#everyone here are jolly children | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cult-of-husbandos · 4 months

Text

karasuda ren [soft!yandere] - All I Want For Christmas Is A Cute Yandere!

synopsis: you're spending another Christmas alone. there's only one thing you want and there's only one person who can make it happen. but, shenanigans occur!

genre: a little crackish, fluff, holiday love

word count: 6.29k

warnings: binge drinking, kidnapping, a little claustrophobia

Ahh, Christmas Eve. The most festive and romantic time of year. The city has never looked so bright and beautiful than when it’s decorated with wreaths and tinsel on every pole and building and fairy lights illuminating a soft glow of the pillowy snowy streets of your city. Not to mention the sights and sounds that sing this otherwise boring, claustrophobic place into jolly merriment. The delicious smells of bakeries and restaurants serving cakes and pies and nauseatingly sugary Christmas cookies. Buskers singing Christmas songs to afford a decent meal. Last minute idiots scrounging the shelves in stores and causing scenes to get that one important present or Christmas is ruined. Families walking with their children with excitement on their faces about what Santa will bring them tonight. Happy couples walking hand in hand and sharing hot cocoa and sweet treats before they get home. Retail workers resisting the urge to shoot themselves when Mariah Carey’s winter album plays for 6667th time that day.

Yes, it seems that everyone was in a rush to get home to be with that special somebody tonight.

EXCEPT FOR YOU!

Day after day. Year after year. Holiday after fucking holiday!

Seriously! It should be against the fucking law to have to work on Christmas Eve. Especially, when the workplace is complete ass and your coworkers take turns using the singular brain cell that seems to float aimlessly around the office. When you were just a fresh newbie, you used to blame your singleness on your work. ‘I don’t have the time right now, I should try when I get used to the environment.’ That was your thought process. But, now you know that it was all complete horseshit! The real reason you can’t make time for anything, let alone a relationship, is because your boss and your coworkers are required by the laws of fate and destiny to cockblock you until you’re that old Karen calling the cops on your neighbors for having too bright lights in their yard. When you first got hired, you promised that you wouldn’t become like the old greedy ladies at your work that glared at the smallest hint of happiness and bitched about it on their ‘Moms Against…’ Facebook groups.

Yet, here you are. Hours before Christmas, shuffling home like a morally depleted penguin hating every single happy and smiling face you came across. Even the forced ones.

As you trudged through the dirt clodded snowy and slippery as hell sidewalk, you couldn’t help but unintentionally glare at every single couple you passed by. Happy smiles adorned their faces as they shared intimate kisses and huddled together for warmth. You tried not to gag or roll your eyes because it wasn’t really their fault. They were just enjoying the festivities and snow. You on the other hand are huddled into yourself trying not to bust your ass in the middle of a public street and quickly get home so you can rip off your shoes that were sopping wet and nearing frostbite from the slushy snow penetrating your shoes.

To be honest, the last place you wanted to be at was your apartment. You sigh to yourself in disappointment knowing what’s waiting for you: Nothing. In particular, no one. As stated before, day after day, year after year, holiday after freaking holiday, all that awaits you is a cold, empty apartment with comfort items and furniture that you either bought off of Amazon or got off the streets. No one would be waiting for you except the inescapable loneliness that you felt every day. Your plans are the same as last year’s, and the year before that, and the year before that, and so on and so forth. You’ll get home, take a lukewarm shower because your plumbing is always busted around this time of year, drink a 1/5th of Holly Jolly Krinkles Peppermint Vodka, and pass out watching the Polar Express on Hulu. Then, wake up Christmas afternoon and try not to throw up the rest of the day. Your ancestors must be so proud staring down at you after generations of their own hardship.

Peeking up from your huddled form you spot your apartment complex up ahead. You sigh again feeling the need for a drink. As you hurriedly jogged up the stairs and rushed to your door, you slowed to a halt as you saw a bottle sitting on your doormat. Titling your head in confusion, you looked around for any clues on who could’ve left this on your door. Cautiously, you picked up the suspicious bottle and felt that it was heavy and filled with liquid. A white and red envelope fell onto the mat and you picked it up as well. The envelope had your name addressed to it, but nothing else. You looked back at the bottle and squinted into the dark to read the label on the front. In the dark you could only make out ‘Feeling Pine Mulled Wine.’ You groaned at the pun. On top of the cork you noticed a green ribbon tied along with a small folded note. Inside the card read, “For you, from Santa Claus~♡”.

“Santa Claus…?” you muttered to yourself. You scoff and think of this as nothing more than corporate shilling and shameless advertisement to get people to spend even more money on this capitalist holiday. Everyone in the building must’ve gotten a bottle and since you got home late you’re the only one left. Shivering harshly as a chilling breeze rushed through you, you quickly shot into your apartment. Like a defeated animal, you ripped off every single piece of wet clothing and left it near your front door for ‘hungover you’ to worry about. Placing the mulled wine on the kitchen counter to worry about later you jogged to the bathroom for your shower. Second to drinking yourself to sleep, you looked forward to your shower the most. Flipping your shower nozzle to the highest setting, you jumped in and hopped around as the blizzard water hit your skin. You shivered as you rubbed soap aggressively on your body waiting for the lukewarm water to set in. After a few minutes, the water didn’t change. You waited a few more minutes and the water was still cold?! All of the frustration and anger bottling up inside you finally popped.

“AAAARRGGHHHH!!!” You screamed with all your might. Your screams bounced around your echo-ey bathroom as your next-door neighbor banged on your wall. You banged the wall back even harder out of frustration. What kind of shitty development is this?! You are a good person! Why is it that whenever something good happens to you someone shits all over you?! Who did you kill in your past life to warrant this sharknado level shitstorm that is your adult life?

“God-fucking-DAMMITT! I hate this shitty building and its shitty pipes and its shitty… shitty shit shit!!” You stomped as you frustratingly shut off the shower. Again, you’re reminded of your paper thin walls as your next door neighbor banged on your wall even harder. Completely fed up with everything, you punched and kicked at your wall with all your might.

“Evan Christopher Daniels, you motherfucker! I swear to God, you bang on this wall one more FUCKING time! I’m calling the landlord and telling him all about your basement cock fighting ring and we BOTH know we aren’t talking about chickens!”

The banging immediately stopped. You huffed and leaned against the cold tile wall. You needed a drink more than ever, but you did feel a little better after yelling. Walking out of the bathroom in your towel, your attention is brought back to the wine bottle and envelope. Staring at the wine bottle and label again in a better light you didn’t see anything wrong with it. Nothing obvious at least. So, with a shrug and popped the cork.

“Better than that shitty minty vodka…” you muttered.

*****

“A-And then… that Chevy-back refrigerator built asshole had the nerve to put his dirty face next to mine and breathe his hot Frito-shit pie breath all over me! Can you believe that?!”

You were venting. You were venting and drunk. You were venting, drunk, and talking to the only thing that brought you solace in this cruel time of joyful merriment: the characters on screen from the movie you were watching.

Wow. How sad.

“‘This is no good, Y/N.’ ‘You should try harder, Y/N.’ ‘How ‘bout spending Christmas stuck to my bed sheets, Y/N.’ How about you get the fuck outta my face, fix your hairline and get veneers you shitty generic ugly bastard-looking McFuck!!”

You sprawled out on the floor, sloppy lamenting over your life and where you could have possibly gone wrong.

“Why is it that whenever I get hit on, it’s either from creeps on the subway or fat geriatrics with greasy foreheads that get off on power harassment?” you ask your screen.

“‘Cause that’s the way things happen on the Polar Express!’”

You clicked your tongue and grumbled, “I wish I was on the Polar Express…” you spared a glance to your empty apartment. “Better than being here alone…” You took another drink from your bottle and set it down beside you. “This is good… I’ll have to drink this shit all-year round.”

As you silently surveyed your surroundings as the movie continued in the background, your eyes were drawn to the unopened letter that came with your wine. With a grunt and a sigh, you reached over to pick up predicting that it’s mostly like a Christmas themed advertisement for the company. However, instead was a Christmas portrait card. You opened the card and read the beautiful cursive that was inside.

“Wish upon the brightest star in the sky and your deepest wish will come true.”

You read the words over and over again. ‘Wish upon a star?’ you thought incredulously. What good would that do? You looked on each side of the card but there wasn’t anything else, not even a signature. The handwriting on the Christmas card didn’t match the note on the cork either. You scoffed after a while and flicked the card back on the floor.

“Deepest wish will come true…” you grumbled softly. “That’s only something a child would believe in.”

“‘Seeing is believing, but, sometimes, the most real things in the world are the things we can't see.’”

Your attention was brought back to your movie and the words that stood out by the conductor. Wait… was the movie playing out of order?

“Seeing is believing, huh?” you muttered to yourself. You looked to your bedroom window. Snow gracefully falling from the night sky down to the bright city lights from under your window. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was just a plane, but there in the cloudy night you spotted a single light that penetrated the clouds. Again the words on the card rang through your mind like church bells, or maybe those were just the bells from the movie.

“Meh, fuck it.” You were already drunk and alone. Might as well do something embarrassing in the comfort of your own home than in a bar full of equally lonely people, right?

You crawled your way towards the window and sat on your knees. You already knew what your deepest wish was. You wished for it every holiday: your birthday, Valentine’s Day, hell, even Arbor Day. But, who should you even be praying to to make the wish come true? Santa Claus? God? Buddha? David Bowie? No, there’s only one person who could make a wish like this come true. Someone who you've never prayed to. Someone who could make your dream a reality.

“Oh, Supreme Lord Master Gege Akutami,” you called out. “I know I’ve never prayed to you before, but you’re a man that can make miracles happen. You’re the only one I know that can make my wish come true. The only thing that I want for Christmas is…” you took a deep breath.

“All I want is a super cute yandere boyfriend!”

You can’t be serious.

“I’ve seen your creations Oh Heavenly One and I know you can make that happen. The gorgeous men and women from your manga are only just as beautiful and holy as the animated versions! But not just an old yandere will do! I want a super cute one! The kind of yandere that feed, spoil, and give their unwavering love and affection to the MC! The kind of yandere that will only keep me to himself so I don’t have to work at my shitty job anymore.”

Oh you are dead serious, aren’t you?

“He has to have a cute smile, gorgeous eyes, and soft kissable lips! And he has to be taller than me, but not too tall! Just the right amount of height where I can give him headpats and forehead kisses and when he lays down on my lap only his feet go over the couch arms, not his legs! Also, I want him to have a nice build, not too skinny and lanky. I’ve seen the kind of men you’ve brought to light so I know you can make it work Oh Great One.”

Oh dear lord…

“And he has to know everything about me! Like super omega obsessed with me, but in a cute way that makes it hard to be mad at him. Oh, and extroverted as hell to counterout my introvertedness! Like the type of person who will go up to the fast food worker and tell them that I wanted no pickles on the burger! Y’know, and also…”

Okay, I’m gonna cut the rest of this drunken otaku rambling for the future therapy you’ll be court mandated to attend.

“Please, Lord Gege… if not you then… I don’t know what else I’m gonna do.” You squeeze your fist tighter and close your eyes shut as a last ditch effort. “Please make my deepest wish come true.”

You slowly opened your eyes to see nothing in the sky anymore. Nothing but dark snowy clouds. You let out a pitiful chuckle as you felt tears brimming your eyes.

“What the hell am I doing…?” you whispered. “I am so fucking pathetic…” Maybe it was just a stupid plane after all. You meekly crawled back to your spot on the floor and layed down a few inches away from your laptop. The movie was still playing and the time read “12:01 A.M.”. It was officially Christmas. And today, just like every Christmas, you were drunk and alone. The sounds of actual church bells rang throughout your room from the outside. You lazily stared at the movie that was nearing its end.

“‘Just remember, the true spirit of Christmas lies in your heart.’”

‘Santa Claus… Christmas… wishing… it’s all a bunch of shit…’

As you felt your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, you soon gave into your tiredness praying that your hangover in the morning wouldn’t be too bad.

*****

Rustle… Rustle… THUD!

You are jolted awake at the sound of a large thudding sound coming from outside your bedroom door. Bleary-eyed, you check the time on your phone. It was 3 A.M.. Thinking it was just your neighbors, you laid back down on the cold hard floor. Until, a few seconds later, you are woken up again this time with a large bang.

Okay, that sounded way too close to be your neighbor. Someone was definitely in your apartment. You carefully snuck over to your bedroom door and pressed your ear against it. You couldn’t hear any voices (which makes sense), all you could hear was the sounds of something rustling.Are you actually getting robbed?! On fucking Christmas?! Oh hell no! Fueled with drunken courage and hazy eyes, you grabbed the empty wine bottle and quietly snuck out of your room. Peeking around the corner, you saw a tall, dark figure looming in your living room. You quickly flipped on the lights and jumped from around the corner raising the bottle above your head, ready to smack a bitch if they tried to run.

“Alright! Who the fuck are–!”

You stopped dead in your tracks and the wine bottle you held tightly in your hands dropped to the floor with a solid thud. The man standing in your living room, staring you dead in your eyes like a deer caught in headlights of a lifted Ford truck, was wearing a vibrant red suit complete with black boots, white gloves, and a red had, had a long, fluffy white beard, a large white bag filled to the brim with wrapped presents, and twinkling blue eyes. You felt your breath catch in your throat. It was unmistakable.

“Santa Claus…?” you groggily called out.

The man’s face turned from caution to jolly in a matter of seconds as he let out his signature laugh.

“Ho ho ho!” he bellowed. “Well, this is odd! Shouldn’t all the little good boys and girls be asleep right now?”

“I… I was asleep… I-I think your bag woke me up when you set it down…”

“Ah! Of course! I was looking for your Christmas tree, but I can’t seem to find one. So, I was wondering where to leave your presents!”

“I don’t have a Christmas tree. I couldn’t afford one this year…” you told him, folding your arms. Wait. Why were you telling him anything?! This has to be a dream. Yes, just a drunk dream. There’s no way you could be talking to some strange man dressed as Santa Claus right now.

“I see… How unfortunate. Life must be so tough for you, Y/N L/N.”

Your eyes widened. “H-How do you know my name?”

Again, “Santa Claus”'s laugh rang throughout your tiny living room.

“Santa knows all the good boys and girls! And you have been extra good this year!” he exclaimed. He bent down and started rummaging through his bag as if he was looking for something.

Your attention snapped to your front door. You were sure that you had locked it. Squinting, you didn’t notice anything strange about it. The deadbolt was still locked. It wasn’t even left open for a clean getaway if this were an actual robbery or even a dream. None of your windows open, they’re more like decoration. It’s brutal in the summer when the building’s AC stops randomly. So how did–

“How did you get in my apartment?”

“Santa Claus” stopped searching through his bag, but didn’t look up at you. He just… stared down into it like he didn’t want to make conversation with you.

“I don’t have a chimney. This low-rated rat hole would never give such a luxury. Plus, none of the windows open. I locked my door with a deadbolt so I would’ve definitely heard you if you had tried breaking in through the front door, not while you were looking around for a Christmas tree so… how did you get in here?”

You could feel the tension rising as silence choked the jolly air around him. After a moment, the man raised his head to look at you. You felt your blood run cold. He was smiling, but his eyes… no longer had that same twinkle in them like before.

“How do you think I got in here?” he asked stiffly. Shivers rolled down your spine and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak a word. The man laughed again, but not his silly jolly laugh. It was more rigid and harsh. “I’m Santa Claus. Even if homes don’t have a chimney… I can still find my way in.”

‘Okay! I’m done with this dream now! I’d like to wake up! Wake up, me! Wake up!’

But, nothing changed. If this were a dream, something anxiety inducing would’ve happened by now. Like Santa Claus melting or turning into an eldritch monster. The air felt like it was suffocating you ever so slowly as your heart started to beat faster and faster.

“You look like you don’t believe me.” You jumped at his voice. He smiled even brighter and pointed the opening of his gift bag towards you. “Why don’t you see for yourself. I have a present here just for you.”

You swallowed hard. “A-A present…? But I–” You could barely stutter out a sentence before he spoke again.

“It’s what you deeply wished for.”

Your eyes widened again. Those choice of words… It couldn’t have been an accident. How would he… unless he…

You found yourself slowly inching towards the gift bag. It felt like an out-of-body experience. Like watching a first-person POV of someone doing something extremely stupid. As you stopped mere inches from the bag, you peered inside to see nothing but an almost seemingly amount of presents that ranged from big to small throughout the bag. Just as you tried to peek down further into the bag, you felt a large gloved hand grab the back of your neck.

“Sorry kid. No witnesses.”

Before you could utter a word or scream in shock, you are unceremoniously shoved into Santa's bulging sack of gifts. As the bag closed tight above you, your panic-filled mind finally kicked in as you screamed and thrashed around the bag. However, the more you screamed and kicked, the more the weight and closeness of the presents started to crush around you. This set in more panic and then more kicking and screaming.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be all over soon.”

‘What?! What does that mean?!’ You continued to scream and clawed at the walls of the bag to try and rip through. With a sudden jerk motion, you were lifted into the air and the bag was thrown over the man’s shoulder causing what seemed like a hurricane of presents to rain down on you. As you tried to kick up towards the opening again, you left out a gasp when your foot hit nothing. The more you kicked the more you stuffed yourself down the ocean of presents currently crushing you from all sides. When you tried to reach out to the side to claw at the bag again, you again found nothing. And again, the more you tried to reach, the more your arms got stuck wedged against the weight and size of the presents. There seemed no end as the presents continued to suffocate you, pressing hard against your stomach, legs, head, and chest.

You felt your vision starting to blacken out and called out once more.

“Please… someone… help me…”

But, your voice was too low and soon, you did not speak again.

*****

Your eyes fluttered open to see nothing but darkness all around you. You let out a grunt as your head pounded harshly only to find out that your mouth had been taped shut.

‘What the fuck?’

You tried to take the tape off your mouth only to find your hands tied together.

‘What the fuck?’

You stretched out from your fetal only for feet to to hit a solid wall. Not only that, your feet were also bound together.

‘What the fuck?!’

You jerked up only for your head to meet a solid wall.

‘Ow! What the FUCK?!’

Your head pounded again and you laid back down trying to remember how you got in this situation. All you can remember is drinking your problems away and watching the Polar Express, and then… wishing on a plane in the sky…? And then Santa Claus showed up?

‘Ugh… fuck me… Did I sleepwalk into an empty plot again?’ You tried with all your might to try and bang on the walls of the box that you were currently in, but with this hangover all you were doing was making yourself tired and nauseous. You sighed with a huff. ‘I swear if I die in here, I’m gonna ghost sue these assholes…’

How long had you even been here? Were you even alive at this point? If you are, how long until the air in here runs out and you suffocate? Ugh… too many thoughts were making your head pound even more. Oh, what a tragic and pitiful end for our tragic and pitiful protagonist–

“Oh, wow! What a huge present!” a voice from outside shouted. You jolted in surprise. Who was that? And did they say present?

“I wonder what Santa got me~?” the voice asked melodically. Santa Claus? Wait, so… that wasn’t a dream?! The sounds of gift wrapping paper answered your question. You didn’t get super drunk and walk into a cemetery and crawl into a coffin like last time. You got super drunk and got stuffed into a giant Christmas present. You want to be disappointed with this development, but honestly you’ve found yourself in much worse situations than this. Like how on three Valentine’s Days ago you unknowingly joined a cannibal love nest cult when buying candy for yourself.

The lid of the box was aggressively thrown creaked open, revealing the most enchanting sight — you were surrounded and bathed in the glow of fairy lights. Blinking away the haze, you found yourself in an unfamiliar room, illuminated by soft, colorful lights and warm furniture. This place was definitely better than your dinky apartment. Your eyes then landed on the strikingly charming individual with the most captivating eyes you’ve ever seen and an endearing yet unsettling aura seeping from him. You felt your heart skip a beat as you locked eyes with the gorgeous hottie staring you down. His cute smile was twice as blinding as the dozen of lights surrounding the two of you.

“Looks like Santa got my letter. Just what I wanted for Christmas~.”

‘Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitsholyshitholyshit–’

“Homy shmpf! Phuu’re hmpf!” You tried to shout.

Blinking a few times, the hottie deliciously chuckled and reached for the tape around your mouth. “Lemme get that for you, sweetheart. Only if you promise not to scream.”

Oh please, like you’d scream in a situation like this.

“There you go–”

“Holy shit! You’re hot!” you shout again. “Whoa… this has to be a dream. There’s no way that I’m sitting in a human sized box in a hottie’s apartment. I gotta buy more of that wine.” you muttered to yourself. You felt a tiny pinch on your cheek and snapped out of your muttering to lock eyes with those gorgeous eyes again.

“Ow… that hurt…”

“Then you’re not dreaming, sweetheart.”

“Woah…” You reeled back into the box. “I’m actually sitting in a hottie’s apartment…”

He chuckled. “House, my love. Not an apartment.”

“House?”

“Yes.”

“Like a house house? Like with a mortgage and shit?”

“The house is fully paid off. My parents paid it off and handed it to me when they retired and moved.”

“For real?!” you gasped and gasped even harder at the sights behind him. “Are those Sanrio plushies?! And a 5-foot Rilakkuma bear?! A PS5, a polaroid camera, an Apple laptop?! What are you, loaded or something?!” you exclaimed in astonishment.

“Well, it’s true that I spared no expense getting this place ready.” he chuckled again. “After all, I spent a lot of time getting all this stuff ready just in time for you.”

“For me?”

“Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t know what my girlfriend liked?”

You paused for a moment, soaking in his words. “Boyfriend…? Girlfriend?”

“That’s right.”

“You and me?”

“Yup.”

“Me and you?”

“Mhm!”

“You’re my boyfriend?”

“Yes, my love. I was getting a little impatient waiting to take you for myself. So, I asked Santa to deliver you to me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears and eyes. You wished upon a stupid star/plane, got kidnapped by Santa Claus, and got unwrapped by a gorgeous man that’s now your boyfriend.

“Where the hell have you been hiding, huh? If I knew a hottie like you was scoping me out all this time I would’ve delivered myself without the gag and restraints.”

The hottie paused for a moment and smiled again. It seems like your reaction to all this wasn’t what he was expecting. “I’ll untie you if you promise you won’t start trying to escape.”

You scoffed and handed him your bound hands. “Oh, please. Yeah, I’m gonna escape and run back to my 250 sq. ft. apartment with no hot water, no heating, and no one waiting for me that even notices I’m gone.”

The hottie laughed softly and began to untie your hands. “And trust me. I wasn’t hiding. I left you gifts every moment I got. However, whenever I saw you, you never had them.” After untying your hands, he gave you a sullen look. “Did you not like them?”

You rubbed your wrists and titled your head in confusion. “Gifts? I never got any gifts.”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. I’ve been leaving you gifts and small tokens for two years.”

“I’m not lying! If I had gotten anything from someone like you, I would’ve been here two years ago.” you defended. “Where did you leave them?”

“On your desk at work, on your doormat, in your mailbox! I placed them everywhere you could see.”

If you weren’t so hungover you’d scream your head off. “Ugh…! Oh my fucking God…” you grumbled angrily, lightly banging your head on the corner of the box. You knew it! Your coworkers were cock-blocking you from finding true love. “All my coworkers are conniving, evil, love-hating bitches! And my boss is a misogynistic, sexual power harasser. They probably threw those presents away when I wasn’t at my desk.”

Your new boyfriend’s eyes grew dark. “What about your apartment?”

“Ugh… those animals would steal chewed up gum after you spit it out. They probably stole it while I was out at work. And my mailbox got broken into 6 months after moving in. All my bills are on autopay.”

As your boyfriend’s face grew darker, his smile remained. “Well, it’s a good thing I told them you quit and got you out of that disgusting “apartment”.”

Your mouth dropped at his words.

“R-Really? So, my job?”

“You don’t need one. I make enough money to support 5 of you. Plus, everything you could ever want is here anyways.”

“My apartment?”

“Considering most of the things in your “apartment” came from the side of the road, just tell me and I’ll buy whatever needs replacing.”

You leaned in close. “And my boss?” you whispered.

He leaned in closer, both your noses touching. “Dead, if you want him to be.”

Holy shit. Let’s go over the list.

He is:

✔ Hot as fuck

✔ Obsessive

✔ Tall

✔ Built

✔ Has a cute smile

✔ Puppy face

✔ Not too overbearing

✔ Dommy

✔ Willing to support your lazy piece of shit lifestyle

✔ Owns a home

JACKPOT!!

“This is the BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!” you shouted, but immediately regretted it when a sharp throbbing pain pierced your head. You clutched your head, tenderly rubbing your temples.

“Woah, are you okay?” he gently asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a hangover…” you smiled wearily.

“I’ll get you some water and Ibuprofen. Wait here. Don’t move, okay?”

Again, you shot him a look that told him that you didn’t have anywhere to go.

“Oh, and uh, thanks… um…”

“Karasuda Ren. But you can only call me Ren, okay Y/N?”

“Okay, Ren.” you smiled. He smiled back at you and headed to the kitchen. You sat in the box looking around at the beautiful home filled with Ren’s things combined with the things you love. If you weren’t on cloud 9 right now, you would plan a vindictive revenge plan on your job. But, now you had nothing to worry about anymore. Your wish came true and he was even cuter than you could’ve possibly imagined.

“Oh!” Ren suddenly called out. “Since you might be hungover, you probably won’t be able to eat this cake I made huh?”

“Homemade cake?! I love– Woah?!” You shot up at just the word cake and fell out of the box and face first into the floor.

“My love! Are you okay?” Ren asked, rushing to you with a glass of water in his hand.

“Yep! I’m okay! I forgot that my feet are also tied up sooo… can you help me?”

Ren laughed and helped you back on your butt and began to untie your feet. After that, he handed you the water and the bottle of Ibuprofen. Swallowing the pills dry and drinking a few gulps of water, you began to feel a little better with some water in your system now.

Just as you were about to get up, you were immediately swept off your feet and carried bridal style across the living room. You let out a tiny yelp as your head made contact with Ren’s warm chest.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Oh. Did you think I wasn’t going to hog you all to myself? You’re my Christmas present and I intend to enjoy this day and many more with you by my side.”

You felt your face burn as you were sure your face was as red as a habanero. Well, this was your Christmas wish too. It’s finally your time to enjoy the lovey-dovey part of this holiday.

Throughout the entire day, you had never felt more love and content. Despite your initial shock, you soon got used to the huge shower of affection your new boyfriend continued to give you. Karasuda Ren, while intense and possessive, showered you with affection and attention unlike anything you had experienced before. He filled you with so much cake and food, you felt like you were gonna pop.

The loneliness that had haunted you dissipated in the wake of this blooming, although unconventional, relationship, was replaced by a new sense of belonging.

As Christmas lights flickered outside, you found yourself entangled in a love both warm and intense. The hours that passed brought a mix of emotions that you could get used to feeling everyday for the rest of your life.

This was it. Your deepest Christmas wish came true. You were finally happy. Only one question was left on your mind.

“Hey, so, how did you start liking me? Have we met before and I just didn’t pay attention or…?”

“No, we’d never even spoken to each other. About 3 years ago on Christmas Eve, I was riding the subway on my way home when I heard a bunch of drunk people get on.” Ren grimaced just remembering the situation. “I wasn’t anywhere near them, but I could smell the alcohol. I was going to change cars when I heard them start to argue with someone, I turned around and I saw you. You looked so tired and angry.”

“Really? I don’t remember that.” you hummed, trying to think back.

“I was going to step in, but you had already clocked one guy in the jaw and dropped the other guy like a sack of flour.”

“Oh yeah! I remember that now!”

“That moment, I fell in love with you at first sight. It took a while to find you again, but after I did I knew in my heart that I could never ever let you go.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet, Ren! Man, I guess first impressions always stick. Kind of embarrassing that your first sighting of me was when I was drunk.”

“...You were drunk?”

“Oh, I was fucking wasted. I always get smashed on Christmas Eve. It’s kind of a tradition. I was drunk off my ass the night Santa took me too.”

“...Y/N.”

“Mhm?”

“You can’t drink in front of other men. If you plan on drinking, let me know and I’ll take care of you. No one can see you drunk and vulnerable except me, okay?”

“Of course, my love! Maybe next year, you can show me where you got that kickass mulled wine from.”

“Mulled wine?”

“Yeah, that one you left on my doorstep. With the note.”

“I didn’t leave anything on your doorstep.”

“...”

“Hmm… maybe I should stop drinking random alcohol that appears next to me…”

“Y/N?!”

Bonus:

As you both were cuddled up on the couch half-asleep, watching a random Christmas movie as the fireplace crackled in the background, you were brought back to a realization. You never thanked the person that made this all possible.

You quickly got up causing Ren to jolted up at your sudden movements and stare at you wide-eyed as you made your way to his window.

“Baby, what’re you doing?” he asked cautiously with a yawn.

“I need to probably thank the person that brought us together today.”

You collapsed your hands together and smiled up at the starry-night sky, immediately catching a glimpse of the brightest twinkling star in the sky.

“Oh, you mean Santa–”

“Oh, thank you Lord Gege, you are truly my savior. If I had known praying to you would’ve gotten me results like this I would’ve prayed sooner. You are truly the ‘God of Handsome Men’.”

“Wait– what?”

“I will continue to support you and buy all of your merchandise…”

“...Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you praying to another man? While your boyfriend is right here?” You could hear the pout in his voice, but his face screamed baby-faced yandere.

You smiled and made your way back to your spot on the sofa. “Well, Lord Gege is more like a God amongst men to me now. But, of course I had to thank him.” You softly poked Ren’s puffed up cheeks. “I prayed to him the night before and he granted my wish. I am now the girlfriend to the cutest man alive!”

Ren blushed your words and decided to let your little prayer slide this time. Looks like you found the cute yandere’s weakness. Whether you decide to tease him in the future only time will tell.

—

a/n: merry christmas, my trash babies~˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i know it's been a while since i've updated, but i couldn't leave the year off without a little slight yandere fic. i was planning on uploading two fics this month, but adhd brain and procrastination are praying on my downfall. so enjoy, a cute fic with a cute soft yandere for the holidays.

happy holidays~!❆⋆꙳•☃︎⋆꙳•✩⋆꙳•❅

649 notes · View notes

prying-pandora666 · 3 months

Text

The Real Reason Azula Smirked When Zuko Was Burned is…

A lot of ink has been spilled over why Azula smirked when Ozai burned and scarred Zuko.

Some argue whether Iroh’s flashback was reliable. Let’s assume for the sake of argument—as uncertain as it is in canon—that it happened exactly as Iroh remembers and describes it.

How could an 11 year old child smirk while her brother is burned and brutalized in front of everyone?

There are many conflicting arguments.

Argument 1 - She’s a monster.

Some say she is a sadist or a psychopath and it’s as simple as that. She just enjoys watching her brother suffer.

But this doesn’t track with what we come to learn about her later, and is outright contradicted by materials that actually give us insight into her POV such as the comics and novelizations, as well as writer interviews.

The novelizations which were written contemporaneously (and thus aren’t a retcon) show us an Azula who cares about Zuko, even though she’s competitive with him and jealous that mom favored him. She thinks Zuko is weak and brings misery upon himself and she is willing to turn on him to protect herself. Yet she still wants to help him get stronger and take his place as Prince. She still wants his love. She takes the risk to lie on his behalf at Ba Sing Se for him. She didn’t suspect Aang had survived until later.

The comics take this further, showing that in Azula’s ideal world, Zuko was never banished or burned at all. He is happy and loves her and isn’t abused or scarred.

Even the head writer who designed both Zuko and Azula’s arcs claimed she loved Zuko more than anyone except their father.

So then what is it?

Argument 2 - It’s A Coping Mechanism

Some point to “Identification with the Aggressor”, a well documented psychological coping mechanism in which victims of trauma—especially children who are especially malleable and vulnerable—will mirror their abuser and conform to their ideals in an attempt to stay in their good graces and be spared. This isn’t always a conscious decision either, it’s often done subconsciously, which only confounds this further.

I’ve written more about this and how it pertains to Azula here.

However, outside the the knowledge that this is common in abused children and Azula’s behaviors meet the criteria, we don’t have any direct confirmation that this is the case.

Argument 3 - She Is Brainwashed

Others point out that every adult in the room is complicit in this act if not outright enjoying it in the cases of Ozai and Zhao.

Azula is a small child that’s been brainwashed from birth to believe this is right. After all, Ozai is their unquestionable despotic leader as well as her only remaining parental figure. Why would she question? How would she even know this is wrong if she’s been taught this is right by everyone surrounding her?

Does she even understand the full impact of what is happening here or does she think this is Zuko getting his comeuppance for being “weak and lazy”, with no concept that he’s actually being scarred for life and is soon to be banished? After all, not even jolly Uncle Iroh is objecting or moving a finger to stop this. He only looks away.

This is supported by the fact that Iroh laughed about burning Ba Sing Se to the ground even as he was killing them. Zuko and Azula both laugh at this joke and Ursa doesn’t chastise them. She only smiles. Clearly this kind of violence is normalized in the Fire Nation.

We also know Azula attended the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, which in the Kyoshi novels we are told is quite violent and that it wasn’t uncommon for adults to encourage students to duel on Agni Kais. Students sometimes died. So there is reason to suspect this is a product of her culture.

Argument 4 - She is Faking It

“Azula always lies” they say. She is shown to be an excellent liar, but more importantly that she represses her vulnerabilities and feelings.

This is shown when Toph tries to sense Azula’s lies only for Azula to completely repress any reactions and prove Toph can’t determine when Azula is being truthful.

youtube

The Beach gives us a more sympathetic example, showing us an Azula who empathizes with her brother and tries to cheer him up when he’s sitting by their old family beach house in depression. She calls him to join them at the shore, and then proceeds to walk all her friends and Zuko through their traumas with surprising gentility.

When it’s her turn however? She dismisses her own trauma with a flippant joke. Masking the moment she starts to feel emotional about it.

It’s even shown when Zuko makes Ty Lee cry by calling her a circus freak. Initially Azula laughs, but when she realizes it’s upset Ty Lee, Azula’s face changes to one of remorse and sadness. However, the moment Ty Lee turns to look at Azula, Azula quickly hides this expression and masks it with a look of indignant petulance.

youtube

Azula does indeed seem to fake negative reactions to hide her vulnerabilities.

Argument 5 - It’s a combination of 2-4

Perhaps there is some truth to all of what we have seen in arguments 2-4. Azula is clearly brainwashed and does identify with her abuser to the point of being inappropriately enmeshed with him and suffering total ego fragmentation when he discards her. She does repress her emotions until she finally unravels. She was also quite young when this show happened and it’s possible she didn’t know just how serious it was all going to be.

But consider this…

Still that isn’t enough for detractors, who claim that even given her environment and the circumstances, it’s still too sadistic and cruel for her to grin here. That she should’ve shown some outward sign of disruption.

If you are or ever were one of these detractors, let me ask you this.

Did you feel any sympathy when Azula fell apart, uncomforted by her newly granted power, arguing against her own conscience in the form of her estranged mother, telling her that her methods are wrong? When Azula replied “what choice do I have?” did you feel any remorse for this child who had been exploited for her skill and groomed into living weapon by her power-hungry father, with no regard for her psychosocial development or emotional wellbeing to the point she cannot even relate to kids her own age normally? Did her desperation to use fear and control to keep others close because she knows no other reliable way, because such skills are taught and she’s only ever learned manipulation and coercing and fear, showing us exactly what Ozai uses to control her just as used violence and estrangement against Zuko, move you?

When she laid broken and sobbing and screaming at the end after Zuko and Katara “put her in her place” as Zuko put it, did you feel any pain in your gut?

Or did you cheer?

Were you glad to for her to get her comeuppance?

Did you feel justice was served and Zuko triumphed that day?

That he was right, he could “take her” by exploiting how “off” she was aka her mental illness and spiral into psychosis?

Because if you did, then you know exactly why a person would smirk while watching someone who needs help get brutalized.

If narrative framing can persuade you to believe that an unloved, mentally ill, abused and exploited child soldier being brought to sobbing, screaming, chained up, broken tears… is the RIGHTEOUS result! Imagine what a lifetime of propaganda from birth and programming from your own father with no one to show you another way would do to you.

Why did Azula smirk while Ozai burned Zuko?

You already know the answer.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #azula #zuko #Youtube

349 notes · View notes

inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 20 days

Text

1968 [Chapter 3: Hermes, God Of Thieves]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 4.5k

Tagging: @arcielee @huramuna @glasscandlegrenades @gemmagirlss1 @humanpurposes @mariahossain @marvelescvpe @darkenchantress @aemondssapphirebussy @haslysl @bearwithegg @beautifulsweetschaos @travelingmypassion @althea-tavalas @chucklefak @serving-targaryen-realness @chaoticallywriting @moonfllowerr @rafeism @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @herfantasyworldd @mangosmootji @sunnysideaeggs

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

They say it’s the most dangerous job in Vietnam. That’s why I wanted to do it.

Chinooks transport men and equipment, Cobras are gunships, Jolly Green Giants are used in search-and-rescue missions. But the Loach—Light Observation Helicopter—is a scout. We have to fly low enough to spot fresh footprints in mud, glints of sunlit metal, blooms of firelight from smoldering cigarettes in the primordial maze of the jungle. And when you go looking for the enemy, sometimes that’s exactly who you find. U.S. Army regulations decree that each Loach must be inspected after 300 hours of flight time, but they rarely make it that long. I’ve been shot down twice already. You roll out of the wreckage, grab your buddies, and book it out of the area before the Vietcong kill you, or worse: drag you back to the Hanoi Hilton so you can die slow.

Currently we’re just north of Pleiku, coasting close enough to the treetops that I could reach out and touch them. I’m in the back seat with my M16, no door between me and the outside world, my hair tied back with a green bandana, the wind hot and sticky. It’s so fucking humid here. Why can’t the communists be trying to take over Malta or Sweden or Monterey Bay, California?

It was the old men who suggested I might be of greatest service to the family by enlisting. I was 25, newly graduated from Columbia Law—a family tradition—and dreading the desk job that awaited me at the Department of Justice. Some people are born to type their lives away in some leather-upholstered office with a view of Pennsylvania Avenue, but not me, and I know this like I know the sun or the stars, ancient truths that can never be changed. And so when Otto and Viserys sat me down—my father had only had one stroke by that point, and was still relatively involved in the day-to-day minutia of putting a Targaryen in the White House—and said Aemond having a brother in Vietnam would make him more relatable, more sympathetic, more noble, not an observer to the carnage of the war but a fellow victim of it…I told them I’d go.

Everyone needs a project. If you don’t have something to distract you from the futility of human existence, it’ll break you in half. I have the Loach. Otto and Viserys, both immigrants ineligible to serve as president of the United States, have their shared ambition of getting their bloodlines in the Oval Office. Aemond has his legacy. My mother has her children, and Criston has my mother. Helaena has her gardens, her bugs, quiet gentle things that she tends with her own thorn-pricked hands. Aegon doesn’t have a project, he never really has, and it’s driven him to the cliff’s edge of insanity. See what I mean?

Anyway, let me tell you something about Vietnam. The Army gives us all the steak, beer, and cigarettes we can handle, but I’d kill for a lemon-lime Mr. Misty—

“Daeron, get down!” the guy to my left screams over the noise of the rotors. His name is Richie Swindell, and he’s from Omaha, Nebraska, and now he’s plummeting out of the helicopter as bullets riddle his chest. I duck low and cover my head as we spiral sideways into the trees, snapping branches, shredding leaves like confetti. I can hear the pilot yelling something, but I can’t tell what. When we hit the earth, the lightweight aluminum skin of the Loach does exactly what it’s supposed to, crumpling to absorb the shock of the collision and reduce trauma to us mortals inside. I scramble out of the rubble on my hands and knees and go to check on the pilot, but it’s too late. He’s already being hauled out by the Vietcong and gets a bullet to the brain. I reach back into the ruins of the Loach to grab my M16, but there are hands around my ankles yanking me out. And now I’m next, and there’s nowhere left to run, and I’m hoping Criston will be there to hold my mother when she gets the Western Union telegram.

One of the soldiers shouts and stops the others, shoving them aside to get a better look at me. With the barrel of his AK-47, supplied by either China or the Russians, he prods at the patch displaying my last name: Targaryen. His compatriots don’t seem impressed. Again, he batters my nametag, speaking to them in Vietnamese.

He knows who I am, I realize. He knows Aemond is running for president.

Now there is a hell of a lot of excitement. The men are talking rapidly amongst themselves, marveling at me, poking and examining me. Then two of them grab me by the arms. I look to the soldier who knows English, at least enough of it to read those nine fated letters. He smiles at me, not like a friend. Like a wolf baring its teeth.

He says: “It is okay, Targaryen boy. We just have some questions for you.”

Guess I’ll be checking into the Hanoi Hilton after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up to Aegon strumming an acoustic guitar and singing Johnny Cash. The guitar must be new. The one he left at Asteria is plain maple wood and covered in stickers; this unfamiliar instrument is a vivid, Caribbean blue and has Gibson written across the headstock.

“I hear the train a-comin’, it’s rolling ‘round the bend

And I ain’t seen the sunshine since I don’t know when

I’m stuck in Folsom Prison, and time keeps draggin’ on…”

“Let me die. I’m ready to go.”

Aegon laughs, setting his new guitar aside.

“Is Ari okay?”

“Yeah, he’s doing great. And I got the stuff you asked for.”

Sure enough, there are three roomy sundresses hanging from the coatrack—you wanted to have options in case you had trouble finding one that fit correctly, though you gave Aegon a general neighborhood for sizes—as well as an array of cosmetics on the nightstand, including a bottle of shimmering champagne-colored nail polish. “I’m really impressed. You barely forgot anything. Though I will look odd with blush but no foundation.”

“Ohhhhh. Fuck.”

“And this isn’t human shampoo. It’s for dogs. That’s why it has a mastiff on the label.”

“I thought it looked like you,” Aegon says, smirking mischievously.

“Well, thanks for trying.”

“And I found this at the gift shop.” He tosses a card at you like a frisbee. You open the envelope to see a cartoon cow on the front, black and white and wearing a huge copper bell and a party hat. Inside is printed: May your graduation be legenDAIRY! Aegon has crossed it out and written instead I thought this was blank…congrats on the new calf! followed by his illegible scribble of a signature.

“A cow,” you say, smiling despite yourself. “Because I’m Io.”

“You’ve got about a million of those pouring in from all over the country. Congratulations cards, get well soon cards, we really hope your husband gets elected so we aren’t consumed by nuclear Armageddon cards. And then Richard Nixon sent a pipe bomb.”

You set Aegon’s card on your nightstand, half-open so it will stay standing upright. Then you drink the apple juice from the tray the nurses left for you. “Aemond’s not here yet?”

“Uh, no, not yet,” Aegon says vaguely, kicking his feet up on the ottoman. He’s been shopping for himself too. He’s wearing a denim jacket over a black The Kinks t-shirt, ripped jeans, moccasins. He uses the remote to turn on the television: The Dating Game. “So, what did you study in college? You went to Manhattanville, right?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You really don’t listen when I talk, do you?”

“I try not to.”

“Yes, I went to Manhattanville. And I studied math.”

“No way. You didn’t major in math.”

“Women can’t do math?” you tease. “That’s sexist.”

“I didn’t say women can’t do math. I’m saying there’s no way your parents sent you to a housewife factory like Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart to get a math degree.”

“They didn’t, which is why my bachelor’s is in math education. So half-math, half-kid stuff. Makes it a little more…domestic.”

“Cool. Teach me math.”

“What, really?”

“Yeah. Really.” He digs around in the pockets of his jeans until he finds a receipt, then locates a pen in the nightstand drawer. He hands both to you and then stands so he can watch over your shoulder as you work. You can smell him: cigarette smoke, rum, the cool grey rain that is falling outside. It drips off his hair, carelessly slicked back from his face.

“What’s something you don’t know how to do?” you ask, expecting to get an answer like exponents or calculating the volume of a pyramid.

“Uh. Long division.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Going all the way back to 4th grade. Alright then.” You begin writing. “So let’s take a large number—this year, 1968—and divide it by…hm…how many kids you have. So five.”

Aegon whistles. “Five kids. Goddamn.”

“Yes, and you probably couldn’t name them, but there are indeed five. Trust me, I’ve counted.”

“Okay, this is the part I don’t get. Five goes into 19 almost four times. But there’s no way to say almost four.”

“There certainly is not. Five goes into 19 three times, so we put a three up top and then subtract 15 from 19. We get four, drop down the six from 1968, and now we’re dividing 46 by five.”

“Nine.”

“Right. Five times nine is 45. So the nine goes up top and we subtract 45 from 46.”

“45 is basically 46. Let’s call it a day. Close enough.”

“No,” you insist. “We get one, then drop down the eight from 1968, which makes 18.”

“And five goes into 18 three times.”

“Where’s the three go?”

“Up top,” Aegon says, observing fixedly.

“And then we subtract…”

“15 from 18, which is three. So the answer is 393.3.”

“Wrong. Loser.”

“What! How am I wrong?!”

“You don’t just put the three after the decimal,” you say. “You drop down a zero—”

“A zero?! Where the fuck did a zero come from?”

“From the fact that 1968 is a whole number, so it’s actually 1968.0.”

“Oh.” Aegon blinks a few times. “Gotcha.”

“Add the zero after the three to get 30—”

“And 30 divided by five is six. So the answer is 393.6.”

“I am so proud. You are officially as smart as an average nine-year-old.”

He takes the receipt from you and studies it. “This was super enlightening.”

“You want to try calculus now?”

He cackles and sinks back into his plush salmon pink armchair, his miniature dominion in your hospital room kingdom. “You like teaching?”

“I love it,” you admit. “I had to do a semester of student teaching the spring before I graduated, and at first I was kind of petrified. But the kids are so hilarious and interesting and full of excitement about everything, and they’re sweet in totally unexpected ways. They’d chatter all through a lesson and make me want to jump out a five-story window, and then bring me some of their Easter candy. That’s when I realized they weren’t trying to torture me. They’re just kids.”

Aegon is meditative. “Yeah, kids are fun.”

“I wasn’t aware you had much interest in them.”

“No, I do.” And something about the way he says it makes you feel bad for taking the shot. He runs his fingers through his hair, perhaps debating how much he wants to share. “You know Viserys made us all do these little missions after college so we could learn about the real world, right?”

“Right.” Daeron spent his on lobster boats up in Maine, Helaena learned horticulture in France, Aemond helped register voters in Mississippi and Alabama. You can’t recall ever hearing about Aegon’s.

“I got sent to Yuma, Arizona to teach on the reservation there. When I stepped off the bus, I thought it was hell on earth. And then when my time was up I didn’t want to leave.”

“What did you teach?” And then you add: “Hopefully not math.”

“No, definitely not math,” he says, smiling but distant, remembering. “English. Books, poems, all that. But my favorite thing to do was take a song and break it down line by line, really get them curious about what the author was thinking. And then of course we’d all sing it together. I’d play guitar, they’d run around jumping on the furniture, it was a good time.”

“But you couldn’t stay.”

“No,” he sighs. “I had to come back here so I could get dragged kicking and screaming through law school and then married off.”

“And elected mayor of Trenton,” you say, trying to make him laugh. It works.

“Oh God, we are not talking about that. Most miserable two years of my life.”

“So far.”

“Yeah. If Aemond wins and makes me the attorney general, that might be worse.”

“Knock knock!” comes a cheerful trill from the doorway, and then Alicent and Mimi rush in. They descend upon your hospital bed, cooing and soothing, squeezing your hands and trying to smooth your untamed hair.

“What did it feel like?” Mimi is morbidly fascinated, swaying a little, eyes bleary with gin. “When they were digging around in there?”

“Well, obviously she was sedated, hon,” Aegon says, a bit impatiently. He and Mimi share a nod in greeting, no warmth, no depth. You wonder what it must be like for someone you spent so much time tangled up with to become a stranger.

“Oh, darling, I barely recognize you!” Alicent says. “You poor thing, you must be in such awful pain. I’ve never seen you like this before. Your face, your hair…”

Aegon gives her a quick, disapproving look and then lights a cigarette of the traditional variety. He puffs on it as he gazes at the window, like he’s counting the raindrops on the glass.

“I’m feeling a lot better now,” you assure Alicent.

Her eyes flick down to your belly, still swollen beneath your blankets. “Will it scar terribly, do you think?”

You shrug; you haven’t thought much about that part yet. “It’s a battle scar. Aemond gets them in the real world, I get them in here. Same war, different arenas.” You peek out into the hallway. “Is Aemond…is he with you…?”

“He wanted to be,” Alicent says, like it’s a consolation. “But, Washington, you know…the primary there is so close. So, so close. He kept saying that he and Humphrey were neck and neck, and they still are, I believe. Every vote counts, and he’s campaigning all over the Puget Sound.”

“He’s still in Washington?” Your voice is flat with disbelief, with disapproval.

“He wishes he could be here with you and the baby,” Alicent insists, stroking your hair. “I’m sure he’ll fly back as soon as he’s able. But he’s thinking of you so, so much. That’s why he let me and Mimi leave this morning.”

“Right,” you reply numbly. And then you remember what you’re supposed to say. “The election is important. It affects everyone, our son included. For the greater good, personal sacrifices are necessary.”

“We saw him,” Alicent tells you, radiant with joy. “Aristos Apollo.”

“So precious,” Mimi says. “But so small! And trapped in that hideous machine! We could only see him through those little round windows.”

Aegon casts her a violent glare. You are alarmed. “He’s not in an incubator?”

“They have him in a…what was it called, Mimi?” Alicent asks. Mimi has nothing useful to contribute. “A hyperbaric chamber, I think. To help him get more oxygen.”

“But he’s fine,” Aegon says firmly, giving his wife and mother a warning. “Didn’t the doctor say it was a precaution?”

“He did, he did,” Alicent promises you. “Yes, just a precaution, that’s what we were told. The doctor has been trying to reach Aemond, apparently, but since he landed in Washington, he’s never in one place for long…”

“We should buy gifts for the baby,” Mimi says excitedly. “Adorable hats and shirts and trousers. Although even the tiniest clothes might be too big for him right now.”

“Yes, gifts! We must shop for gifts. Oh, it’s all been such a whirlwind. We hurried off the plane to come straight here, love,” Alicent tells you. “Can Mimi and I get you something for dinner?”

“Sure, sure.” You are distracted, still thinking of Ari. “Anything is fine. Wherever you end up.”

“Would you like me to bring a priest to pray with you? Saint Nicholas Church is right around the corner.”

You smile. “That’s very kind, but I think I’d prefer some books.”

“Baby clothes, dinner, and books. We can do that. Can’t we, Mimi?”

“We absolutely can,” Mimi agrees with tipsy, girlish enthusiasm.

As an afterthought, Alicent says: “Aegon, have you been here all this time? You must be exhausted. We’re going to book a suite at the Plaza, there will be plenty of room for you too. We can drop you off there on our way to go shopping, if you’d like.”

“I’ll stay,” he says softly, watching the rain again.

Alicent’s brow furrows; her dark doe-like eyes are puzzled. “Alright, dear.” Then she and Mimi disappear into the hall.

“Is he really okay?” you ask Aegon when they’re gone.

“Yes. That’s exactly what the doctor told me, just a precaution. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Aegon,” you say, and don’t continue until he meets your eyes. “Why are you still here?”

He lights a fresh cigarette. “I don’t think you should be alone.”

“I’m not alone anymore. Alicent visits me, Mimi visits me.”

“Yeah, but you feel like you have to put on a show for them. Play the perfect Targaryen wife with all that stoic, dignified, unshakable faith. You hate me, so there isn’t as much pressure.”

“I don’t hate you, Aegon.”

“Yes you do. You always have. You don’t have to be polite about it.”

“Well…I have valid reasons to hate you.”

He smiles, exhaling smoke. “Right.”

“And you hate me too.”

Now he shrugs, avoiding your gaze. “Everybody worships you, everybody thinks I’m a waste of chromosomes, is it really that hard to psychoanalyze?”

“No one worships me. They worship Aemond.”

“But you’re a package deal. Jack and Jackie, Franklin and Eleanor.”

You trace the lines in your palm with a fingertip, not knowing what to say. You’re so close to Aemond, so inseparable, and yet so vastly far. “Will you wheel me downstairs to see Ari after dinner?” It’s best to go at night when there are less staff around to try to stop you.

“Sure. You want a Mr. Misty?”

“Yeah. Lemon-lime.” That’s what he brought you last time, and it wasn’t bad for a cardboard cup of florescent green sugar water.

“Got it,” Aegon says, and leaves you alone.

You look at the phone on your nightstand. You’ve tried to call Aemond to no avail, though you spoke to Criston twice; on both occasions he said Aemond was in the middle of an interview. It’s understandable that you would have difficulty getting ahold of your husband while he’s off campaigning, leaping from town to town like an electric current. There’s nothing unusual about it at all. But Aemond could call you anytime he likes. You haven’t moved; he knows exactly where you are.

You keep staring at the phone. It doesn’t ring.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s night again, and you swim up from morphine-soft dreams into your hospital room, dark except for the flashing color of the television, low volume, NBC news. Aegon is curled up in the chair he’s claimed, snoring and half-covered with a cheap, pale blue hospital blanket. And it’s a strange feeling—a foreign language, a new religion—to realize that you’re relieved to see he’s still here, that there’s a comfort in it, a safety.

Suddenly, Aemond is on the television screen. You sit up in bed as gingerly as you can, leaning in, listening close. He’s rarely looked better: blue suit, prosthetic eye, rested and measured and sharp. He’s giving a speech at the Hotel Sorrento in Seattle, three hours behind the time you’re living in on the East Coast. Flanking him on the stage are Criston, Otto, Helaena, Fosco, the eight charming children. Five-year-old Cosmo keeps waving at the camera.

“Right now, my wife and newborn son are at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City,” Aemond says, beaming, and the audience whistles and cheers. You should smile, but you can’t. He’s not supposed to be there. He’s supposed to be on his way home. “But tonight I’m here with all of you, fighting with everything I’m made of to win the great state of Washington. And I won’t leave until the job is done, because I know the greatest act of devotion that any of us can show our children is to ensure they grow up in a better America than the one we find ourselves in today…”

You look over at Aegon and see that his glassy eyes are open, watching the television just like you are. You don’t know how long he’s been awake. The two of you exchange a glance, and there is a silent, shared recognition of what won’t be said. You can’t criticize your husband. Aegon isn’t going to kick you while you’re down. You are grateful for this. It is a conviction he has only recently acquired.

Aegon pulls his blanket up to his chin and rolls over, turning away from you. You close your eyes and dream of being a child back in Tarpon Springs, mesmerized as you watch Greek sponge divers emerge from the bubbling depths in their suits of rubber armor.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the afternoon of the 13th. The Washington State Democratic Convention is being held tonight, and so win or lose Aemond will be walking into Mount Sinai Hospital tomorrow. He has to, he doesn’t have a choice. He’ll have no excuse to be anywhere else, and journalists will be swarming at the entranceway like bull sharks in the Gulf of Mexico.

It’s raining again. You’re reading one of the books that Alicent brought you, Dr. Spock’s Baby and Child Care. You had been meaning to get a copy before you were consumed by Aemond’s campaign and then his near-assassination, his maiming, his fleeting brush with oblivion. Aegon is cross-legged in the salmon pink armchair and plucking lazily at his guitar, singing so low no one outside the room would be able to hear him. It’s a Rolling Stones song, slow and mournful.

“You don’t know what’s going on

You’ve been away for far too long

You can’t come back and think you are still mine.”

As you flip a page and raindrops patter gently against the window, you find yourself thinking how easy this is, your hair undone and your feet bare, no photos to take or lines to remember, no practiced smiles, no overwrought itineraries, only compassion that is quiet and small and real.

“Well, baby, baby, baby, you’re out of time

I said, baby, baby, baby, you’re out of time…”

Aegon abruptly stops playing, cutting off with a twang. You look up at him. He’s gazing back with eyes that are filling up his face, glistening with horror. You turn to find out what he’s seen. There’s a doctor standing in the doorway, but he’s not alone. There’s a Greek Orthodox priest with him.

“Mrs. Targaryen,” the doctor begins, then glances to the priest. The holy man—black robes, gold chains, clasping a komboskini like the one Aemond keeps in a box on his writing desk at Asteria, stained with his own blood—gives an encouraging nod. “We’ve tried to reach your husband. We’ve called his hotel in Tacoma several times, but the senator must be out campaigning, and…” Again, he looks to the priest. Aegon is setting his guitar on the floor, covering his mouth with his hands.

Ari. Too early, too fragile, too defenseless in a world full of wolves.

Your words come out in a whisper. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“We must remember, child,” the priest tells you, vague patronizing pity. “That the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, but what is lost to us in this life is never truly gone. Those we love wait for us on the other side in paradise—”

“Please leave. I don’t want to talk to a priest. I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

I just gave birth to him. I just started to believe he was mine.

The doctor begins: “Ma’am, I’m so sorry to have to deliver this news—”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone, I want to be alone. So please leave,” you beg, your voice breaking. “I want to be alone. Please leave me alone.”

The doctor looks to Aegon. A man’s permission is sought. “Go,” Aegon manages, raspy and strangled, and the doctor obeys.

“God bless you and your husband, Mrs. Targaryen,” the priest says as he departs with a swift bow. You can’t reply. You’re biting back sobs as the tears begin to slither down your cheeks, scalding and furious, not just grief but the bottomless rage of Nemesis.

Aegon is watching you, not knowing what to do, not knowing what you need.

Aemond would want you to be stoic. Aemond would want you to have faith, forbearance, grace. “It is God’s will.”

“Hey.” Aegon reaches across the space between you, grabs your hand, holds it so tightly your bones ache. Still, you wouldn’t want him to let go. “You’re allowed to be fucked up about this. I am too.”

When your eyes drift to him, they are glaring and heartsick and poisonous. “Where’s Aemond?” Why isn’t he here?

Aegon sighs deeply and picks up the phone with his free hand. He spins the rotary dial with his index finger and then holds the handset to his ear. He waits as it rings. “Pantages Theater, Tacoma, Washington,” he tells the operator. A minute or more crawls by. “I need to speak to Senator Targaryen immediately. Yes, I know there’s a convention underway there, that’s why I’m calling you. Go get him.” More minutes, eternal, terrible beyond description. “What do you mean you can’t find him?!” Aegon snaps. “Okay, give me someone else. Anyone travelling with him. Criston Cole, Fosco Viviani, Otto Hightower, Helaena Targaryen. Hurry up. Let’s go.”

Outside the rain grows heavy and loud; it falls in sheets against the misty windows. In the distance, thunder growls.

“Hi, Criston, it’s me. He needs to come home now. Right now.”

Aegon closes his eyes. Criston must be arguing with him.

“No, you don’t understand,” Aegon says, forcing the words to leave his lips and ride the wires to the West Coast, to where the sun sets, to where the future is dawning. He’s still holding your hand. “Aemond doesn’t have a son anymore.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon targaryen x you

170 notes · View notes

lookwhatitcost · 15 days

Text

How can you love me? Chapter 1: What the fuck is going on?

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x !OFC

Warnings!: mentions of sex, slight drinking, Mentions of self harm, Noah is just a warning himself, let me know if I need to add more!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Noah and Adriana both rockstar's, both caring, both don't really believe in love.

They met as children in a park in Richmond, since Noah helped Adriana with a scrape on her knee that day, they'd been inseparable. Even though they do live together and have known each other for almost 20 years they've never even had the thought of being each others other, being their partner, loving each other unconditionally, except as friends of course. Even though they were each others first everything, first friend, first kiss, first time, first home, they would never admit their love for each other because it would ruin their friendship, and especially not now that Adriana is not looking for love and, Noah is in love with his girlfriend Chelsea, right?

Will they let each other break their glass houses or will they stay eternally quiet?

May 13 2020 (Adriana's POV)

"Noah where the fuck are you!"

I was out of breath from running after him after he shot me like 20 times with a fucking nerf gun! I was getting payback right, now.

I was trying to be as quiet as possible until I reached my room, of course the motherfucker would be here right? I was creeping through my room, I looked under my be-

"HOLY SHIT NOAH PUT ME DOWN!"

He was carrying me and maybe I had no way out.

I knew what his next move was, he was going to throw me on the bed and try to attack me, so I did what I first thought of, I hooked my leg around his waist and I basically threw myself on the ground, but if I was going down he was coming with me. I'm pretty sure everyone heard the loud BOOM downstairs but at least this time I beat Noah to attacking me.

Of course it hurt a little but I'll get over it.

I stood up and fixed my hair and clothes.

"Aughhhh why the fuck would you do that adri?" Noah said in pain

I just giggled while looking at the 6 foot 3 giant on the ground groaning.

"come on I'll help you get up dumbass."

I grabbed his hand and helped him get off the floor, we were laughing until we heard footsteps coming upstairs, me and Noah scrambled to the bed trying to look as calm and normal as possible, with me finding my phone on the floor and picking it up and Noah quickly snatching a blanket off of my bed and pretending he was tired.

"Did you guys finally kill each other this time?" Jolly asked as he walked into my room.

"What do you mean? We weren't doing anything, we're just here chilling" Noah falsely explained. Jolly just rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, me and Noah looked at each other and started laughing until our ribs were tired.

"NOAH YOU'RE PHONE IS RINGING AND ITS GETTING FUCKING IRRITATING" jolly yelled clearly irritated of our bullshit.

"WHO IS IT?"

"THE GIRL YOU LIKE TO FUCK A LOT"

"Oh shit its Chelsea let me go get that" Noah said as he panicked running out of the room to his room, I obviously also left the room but I went to bother jolly instead.

'hey jolly can I ask you something?' 'What do you need now adri' he said with a fake annoyed tone. ' its nothing serious, I was going to ask if you could make dinner tonight because me and Noah were going to be in his room gaming.'

"well actually.." I hear from behind me. 'What happened noah?'

"um look I'm gonna visit Chelsea at her house so I probably won't be here until very later on."

"oh ok yeah that's fine, are you going to be here for dinner or do we eat without you?"

"Nah adri I think he'll be eating something better than what we're having" jolly said in jokingly matter. 'Oh shut the fuck up jolly do I ever make fun of you when you bring girls home?' Noah said clearly rushed and irritated.

"yes actually you do." Jolly said in a matter fact tone.

"No I dont!"

"YES YOU DO last time I brought a girl home you literally said to he-"

"OH MY GOD GUYS, just shut the fuck up and stop acting like 17 year old boys, noah, are you going to be here for dinner or not." I say sternly. 'No I don't think so bu-' ' okay then I'll make dinner for me and the guys and you go visit Chels ok?'

"Um ok..." He stood like I just gave him a lecture. 'Cool, oh and can you give Chelsea the dress that I told her I would gift her please?' I asked as I remembered the promise that I made her.

"Yeah sure but, I could try to get here before dinner so we can all eat togeth-"

"Noah." I cut him off

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and go visit your girlfriend."

"Ok"

Time skip.

I was cooking dinner for me and the guys, listening to music while they were upstairs in their room. I was cooking spaghetti with meatballs and also making a salad on the side. I was doing the usual, chopping up vegetables, using the knife as a mic, which I know is dangerous but its fine.

"WHO THE FUCK IS BLASTING SUGAR BY SLEEP TOKEN RIGHT NOW!?!" I hear and know right away who it is.

Jesse.

"Jesse shut up I wasn't the one screaming the lyrics to Taylor Swift's You belong with me 2 days ago."

"you have no right to say that when you know its quality music." He said as he stood in front of me.

"yeah yeah yeah, I will admit it is amazing music."

"Hey do you need help with anything there?" He said. 'Oh yeah please, um could you help me chop those vegetables while I make the sauce?' I say as I'm pointing to the needed vegetables.

"Okay yeah, oh my god did you see the news?" Jesse said beaming with excitement. 'No what news?'

"Okay so do you remember whe-"

SLAM!

What the fuck who's slamming doors right now?

Me and Jesse stood there wondering who walked through the door like he fucking could do whatever he wants

"Noah"?

he passed through the kitchen and stood right in front of us with his eyes bloodshot and puffy as if he'd been crying for hours.

"If Chelsea calls any of you and asks for me, don't tell her anything. Got it?" Noah said as he walked and reached for the alcohol cabinets.

Now what the fuck is going on?

Noah stormed out of the kitchen with a bottle of tequila to go to what I imagine would be his room. 'WAIT, DID SHE NOT CUM?' Jesse called after Noah probably trying to get him to laugh, 'JESSE! Why the fuck would you say that to him can't you see he's pissed?' Jesse looked at me while trying to hold in his laugh.

I was wondering what had happened if he left so happy that he was going to see her and even though Jesse went a little too far with the comment he was right he was also happy because he was probably going to have sex with his girl. I needed to figure out what happened to noah, I mean I'm pretty sure I could fix this, I was the one who introduced them to each other.

"Jesse can you finish this while I try to see what happened to him?"

"sure thing."

I walked in to Noah's dimly lit room excepting him to tell me to 'FUCK OFF!' Like he always does, but when I spot him on the edge of his bed he just looks at me and takes a swig of the tequila.

"Noah what the fuck was that out there?"

"Nothing, why?" He said in a monotone voice. 'You want some?' He asked as he was putting his arm out to hand me the bottle.

"No, Noah what happened with Chelsea? Did you guys fight? Or was it something else?"

He just sat there with his head down, and I thought he wasn't crying until I saw a tear glisten down his face. I sat on the edge of the bed with him and put my hand on his back, rubbing it in circular motions, just like did THAT night.

Noah took yet another gulp of the drink and sighed.

"She broke up with me."

What?

"Noah what do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean, she broke up with me just like that." He said clearly trying to keep his anger inside. 'oh, Noah I'm so sorry. Do you know why she did that?'. Noah chuckled before he said.

"No, I got to her place and when I said hi to her she asked me if we could talk, when we sat down she just said it, no sugarcoats, she just said, I wanna break up."

Oh. My. God.

"well maybe she was just confused, I mean, you guys have been together for 2 years, that's a lot of commitment and maybe she was just nervous."

"nah, its fine she's just like any other girl who's dated me, they spend time making me fall in love just so then they can throw me away like some type of garbage."

I understand how rough it is for him, I mean the last relationship he got into before Chelsea made him almost commit suicide when they broke up, she was cheating on him with two guys so the night he found out, I saw him in locked in his bathroom gripping a piece of glass in his hand from the mirror, thank god I found him before he did anything, but I understood him especially since I already had tried to do that before, so I guess you could say I was an expert.

"Noah, please don't say that, look lets do this, you stop drinking so the hangover isn't as bad in the morning, I will try and call Chelsea tonight and if she doesn't pick up I'll call her tomorrow, and you can get some rest in the meantime ok?" I said as I gently took the bottle from his hands and stood up.

"I guess, sure." He said still looking depressed.

"Okay, well goodnight Noah I'll tell you if anything happens tomorrow."

I gave him a kiss on the forehead and heard him say a quiet 'thank you'.

When I say I keep my promises, I'm not joking.

I called Chelsea about 50 times on my phone, on Noah's phone, on jolly's phone, and the list goes on and on. I was just trying to figure out what happened even though yesterday her and Noah were smitten over each other, calling each other every five minutes, which at some point did get a little irritating but it was fine. I sorta feel guilty because I introduced them to each other and I was the one who told chels that she should date noah, obviously she had a crush on Noah first, who doesn't? I mean, even I had a small crush on Noah when we were teenagers, but that passed after a while. I could feel the frustration creeping up my body as I tried calling Chelsea for the 52 time in a row. I let out a frustrated sigh, 'what the fuck do I do now?'

"Don't stress about it adri, at this point she's not gonna talk to anyone." Noah says behind me leaning against the bedroom door with only his gray sweats on,

"Noah? What are you doing up? I thought you were asleep."

"nah I couldn't sleep, plus I didn't want to anyway" he waves it off as if I can't see the tired and sadness in his eyes. 'uh huh totally, because you hate sleeping.' I say sarcastically. 'Where are the other guys?'

"ah shut it, the guys are all asleep." he says then looks at my phone in my hand, then grabs my hand gently and holds it up in front of him. 'How many times have you called her?'

"52 times" I whisper embarrassed. 'what? I couldn't hear you.'

"52 times." I say clearer. 'WHAT. You called her 52 times!?!'

"Yeah... Look I'm sorry but I just don't like seeing you like this plus I also have to check up on her, remember she's also my friend." I say trying to justify my devotion. 'Look, I appreciate that but at this point please, just give up.'

I knew what I was about to do, I was going to rant.

"no Noah I know you love her and I at least want you two to talk so you guys can at least see what happe-"

What. The. Fuck. Is. He. Doing.

I felt his soft lips lightly touch mine testing the waters, until he kissed me... He took my face in his hands and he kissed me. The kiss felt soft, he was kissing me as if I were fragile, I kissed him back and put my arms around his torso feeling as if this was a piece of heaven. He pulled back, eyes soft, and lips rosy pink from kissing me.

What the fuck, this man was heartbroken an hour ago why is he kissing me now?

"Noah?" I said confused. 'Yeah?"

"What the hell was that for?" I said thinking he wasn't in his right headspace. 'Nothing. I knew you were gonna rant so I needed to shut you up in a kind way.' He said in a mocking way.

We just stood there in front of eachother, I swear we were having a secret eye contest.

"Well adri um I'm gonna head to bed, ok? Goodnight." He said giving me one last peck on my mouth.

This guy is out of his mind.

He walked out of my room like if nothing happened. until he turned around and quickly came in to my room just to say.

"sweet dreams angel." He said adding a wink at the end.

I was shocked, and asking myself so many questions.

Why would he do that?

Is he drunk?

Was he actually trying to shut me up?

I didn't know what happened. What I did know is that, I ended up with an aching need that night, so lets just say my vibrator was dead by the time I went to sleep.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #heavy metal #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens band #noahsebastian #badomens #noah sebastian x reader

88 notes · View notes

lilsocksiswriting · 3 months

Text

Fandom: Jujitsu Kaisen

Paring: Sukuna X Fem!reader

Summary: Holidays back home are here, Sukuna makes you cum harder.

Warnings: NSFW, No Beta, minors DNI,

Tags: College/modern Au, hurt/comfort, phone sex, orgasm denial, Sukuna likes to be called sir, Sukuna pep talks, mutual masturbation

Word Count: 4.04K

Master list

Chapter Six || Chapter Eight

Y/N: I have landed in the land of layovers! Now it’s time for food!

Sukuna: Overpriced fast food? How exciting.

Y/N: A land of layover delicacy.

Y/N: I landed home.

Sukuna: good, you managed to get home without falling out of the sky.

Sukuna: Morning doll.

Sukuna: Do not look at the image Yuji sends you

The gang(but we aren’t like a gang gang)

Yuji: Y/N! We went to go see the Christmas lights and I got bro to ride the littel kids' train with me!

Yuji sent a pic

Y/N: omg

Nobara: look at him! Ha! He barely fits! How did you manage to get him to go???

Megumi: He looks pissed. He’s going to scare the children.

Yuji: …He did make a few cry.

Megumi: Did he go on the train ride just to make small children cry?

Yuji: I told him it would make Y/N smile.

Sukuna: Morning again

Sukuna: That littel shit ate all the cereal again.

Sukuna: I. fucking. Hate. The supermarket. This time of year is the worst. They’re all like littel bugs scurrying about in a panic, but I really want that cereal.

Sukuna: What are you up to tonight? Any fancy parties?

Sukuna: I swear to god the barista was someone from the club. I flirted with him a bit in case you wanted to take him home one night.

Sukuna: It’s pretty nice out today.

Sukuna: Keep leaving me on read, ok

The moment you got off the plane it was dinner with your mother’s roommate for college. The next morning it was brunch with your grandparents on your father’s side at the country club followed by a late afternoon tea. That evening it was a Christmas party at your mother's law firm.

You did manage to sneak a peak at your phone to see the most adorable picture of Sukuna, squished into a child-sized seat little train ride full of kids and their parents. He had his arms crossed and a deep, pouty frown. What a humbug. God, he was so cute!

You have just enough time to send a quick reply in the group chat before you have put your phone away and pretend as if nothing happened. Your mother finding out that you had a boyfriend was the last thing that you needed right now. And one that did not meet her standards? You don’t even dare fathom the response she would have. Your relationship was already strained from transferring to a university not her choosing. You will be the first L/N not to graduate from the private university of your hometown.

For the rest of the evening, you do the same thing you had been doing since the moment you stepped off the plane, pretend. You pretend to be elated to see your old friends from high school, your old roommate, relatives, and your parents’s coworkers. You pretend to laugh along with their jokes and jabs about you going to a state university now.

All the while feeling more and more alone and desperate for just one genuine thing. A real smile, a real compliment, or real merry anything! But what would be the use of that? Wasn't looking pretty and perfect enough?

When you get home you're pooped but you cannot sleep. You toss and turn in your sheets. You feel weird. You feel so lonely and disconnected from the real world. In the darkness of your childhood bedroom, you wonder if your university was even real.

'that's stupid Y/N of course it's real.'

You remind yourself of all the hard work you put into the last semester and how you deserve a break. But when could you take that? It's so much work not making any waves here back here at home. Making sure that the holiday remains jolly and all that. Had it always been this hard?

You remind yourself that you have friends. You scroll through the group chat reading what everyone is up to. This was a bad idea. They all lived in the same town, and they all were enjoying the break together. They didn't have to pretend like everything was fine and great and like they were not becoming the disappointment of their families.

You make a bigger mistake by clicking on Sukun's messages. He gave you these cute littel updates that slowly stopped which made sense since you had not replied to any of his texts since landing. Not much sense in doing so now since it was later in the time zone he was in.

But, fuck, you missed Sukuna. You missed Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi. You missed how Sukuan's bed smelled. How you could hear Yuji and their grandpa in the mornings. You miss how lived in and warm the house felt. you missed feeling happy.

It was stupid but you called Sukuna. It rings and rings.

rings and rings.

"Oh, so you can't return a simple text but you can call me at three in the goddamn morning?"

you swallow a knot in your throat. God, just hearing his pissed-off, groggy voice made you relax under your comforter.

"I'm sorry, I've barely had time to check my phone," is the excuse you gave to him. You keep your voice quiet, paranoid that your mom can come knocking at any moment.

"Oh, too busy being all rich and distinguish to give your low-life boyfriend a text?" he sneers.

"It's not like that, my mom-"

He does not give you a chance to explain your actions, "Would be appalled that you're dating a guy like me?"

"No- well yes, but it's more than that. She is already mad at me-

"Mad?” his laugh and dark and sends a shiver down your spine. “About what? Did you use the wrong salad fork? Did she find out that you fraternizing with someone so being your wealth? " his voice is now shaper, cutting into your feelings and getting straight to the bone.

No, no, hearing Sukuna's voice was supposed to make you feel happy and remind you that there is an end to this long trip home.

"It's not like that...." you trail off. What was it like to go back home, to feel so hesitant to tell everyone about your boyfriend, and your friends, and how much you are enjoying your degre program??

"Oh, I think it very much is Doll. You see all your rich friends and their rich parents with their nice cars and nice-"

"No!" your voice rises and becomes tighter, "It's not like that at all and you sound like yo-you don't understand at all."

"Than make me," he threatens.

Oh, oh that littel shit was good. It was one of the oldest's tricks in his book. He pesters and angers you until you tell him exactly what it is that is bothering you.

"It's all so fucking fake Sukuna...." the dam breaks and tears well up in your eyes. "It's been one gathering after the other where I felt like I have to act like everything is fine and the whole family doesn't see me as this..this disappointment for not choosing the university they went to. And everyone here is so fake too. I don't that one person has genuinely wished me a merry anything. And you know what I want to gush about you. I wanna tell everyone how you make me swoon and laugh I want to save that cute picture of you in that tiny ass train seat as my lock screen. I want to tell them about my friends and the things we all get up to…. but I can't because.... because...I'm scared of dealing with ramifications. "

you were scared of what your mother might do.

But she would never...

would she...

"Doll?"

"I'm scared of what she might do if she finds out I have friends there....if I have you....a-and I'm afraid she might...." your voice was shakey as things came together. It is still not all there, but the feelings are.

"Doll keep talking to me," you hear Sukuna encourage.

"I-all this time I thought it was so ridiculous that me going to a different college bothered my mother so much. b-but I get it now, that's wh-why I'm hiding all of you... I'm afraid she'll take it away from me."

Sukuna scoffs, "Oh she can try doll. but I'd hunt you down no matter where that wench tries to hide you."

he can't see you shake your head," No...you don't get it.... This is what she does. If I choose something that that's not up to her standards she doesn't just take it away or hide it from me... She'll- she'll make me give it... I-I do want to give you up. Sh-she so manipulative that way I’ve fallen for it so many times.”

"Hey,” god his sift voice was killing you in the best way. You could melt into it. Just become lost in that deep tone forever. You cling to it like a lifeline. You'll continue clinging to it until you can find your way back to him. "Don't get choked up on me.... just breathe with me for a bit."

you try, you really try. God what if your mom passes by? What if she makes out your hushed tone? You can hear the things she would say.

'Baby, why are you crying?'

'No, no, baby, a good boyfriend wouldn't make you cry.'

'Well the fact that you have to hide him tells me you know this is a bad relationship to be in.'

"Su-Sukuna...."

"Yea Doll?"

"C-can you just talk to me? just- don't want to think. I just wanna hear your voice, please?"

"Yeah," and Sukuna goes on the tell you about his day, about the appointments he had at work, and what he's eaten. There we go, you breathing clams. When Sukuan can't hear the sobs and hiccups he starts to ask you questions.

"So you have to tell me how about all the crazy rich people shit that’s been happening."

“Wait hold on! You mean she dated twin A all throughout school, had this man's child, then left him for Twin B! And no one really bats an eye because it's his name in the law firm?"

When Sukuna hears you giggle he can finally relax. He made a note to ask you more about your home situation, mabey torturer some information out of his younger brother. But right now he just doesn't want to hear you like that again with him being so far away.

"So what are you wearing?"

"Oh my god Sukuna really?" you giggle again and it was so fucking cute how you sounded.

"I'm in nothing"

"B-bull," he can hear the flusteredness in your voice.

"Well I am now", he says kicking off his sweats. "So know what you know what I'm wearing..."

"a slik pjay set,” You answer. “Just a shirt and shorts. Nothing really special.”

"Fuuuck," his hands slip down his bare stomach, "That pretty pink one you 've worn to sleepovers ?"

"Yeah- you remember what I wear to sleepovers?"

"Oh, i remember that little set."

you squeeze your thighs together grab your AirPods from your nightstand and pop them in so your hands feel to play with yourself.

"Why?" you ask

On the other end Sukuan smirks. his hand reaches his soft cock that's already getting hard at your timid inquiry.

"Why? Are you really asking me that? you really don't have a clue what you do to me? You’ve got to have soem idea doll. Did you ever think it was odd that I took one look at you in those little shorts and wished all you little shits a good night then headed up to my room?"

A hand finds itself between thighs. your fingers being rubbed yourself over your shorts. "I-I just brushed it off as Sukuan being Sukuna. What did you do up there, while we were all just downstairs?"

"I stroked my fat cock like am now, " he tells you.

"Oh," you moan.

"What are you doing right now doll?"

"I'm touching myself, th-through my shorts," you tell him feeling hot and needy all of a sudden. That's just the effect that Sukuan's deep, shameless voice has on you.

"Over your clothes? That doesn't sound too fun. Be a good girl and put your hand down your shorts, slip your fingers between those pretty lips, and tell me how wet you are."

Getting so caught up in his playful and authoritative voice you obey. Your breath hitches when your cold finger slips under the waistband of your panties. You hear Sukuna hum on the other end.

"Fuck Doll I'm already so hard for you, missed your sweet cunt squeezing around my cock. "

"Su-sukuna..." You push your fingers between your lips and gasp, "Oh-oh my god, i-i'm wet."

You hear a raspy giggle, "I fucking knew that needy pussy missed me."

"So much," you mumble gathering up the slick and rubbing it over your clit. "A-are you still....."

"Mhm, going nice and slow. Taking my sweet time and enjoying all those sounds you making for me."

You giggle," I've barely made any noise. I'm trying to be as quiet as I can."

His voice grows stern, "Don't you fucking dare doll. Don't keep one sound from, I wanna hear it all."

"o-ok"

"Ok sir," he corrects you.

Your pussy throbs at the authority in his voice, "Wh-what?"

"Tonight, you call me sir and follow my orders. If you do that, be my good girl, then you'll get a reward."

"Damn, " is all your mind can muster. your boyfriend was so hot.

"What was that?"

"y-yes sir."

"Good girl," his voice was like melted honey in your ears, "Take off those shorts so you can get to that cute cunt better. "

You kick off your comforter then push your shorts and panties down your hips. They wind up somewhere beside your bed

"it sounds like you enjoying yourself doll."

"I am," you answer and quickly remember to add, " sir."

"You catch in so quick." Sukuna rubs his thumb over the head of his cock.

"Permission to ask a question, sir?" you ask before your mind becomes too muddled that you forget it.

"yes, doll?"

"W-what did you think about? When you were upstairs jerking off?"

Sukuna hums, the noise going straight to your core makes you moan softly.

"Curious thing aren't you? why should I divulge my secret fantasies to you?"

Of course, Sukuna was teasing you. And of course, you getting so caught up in the way he makes you feel so lot and good that you play into this sir kink he has.

Honestly, Sukuna would love to tell you all the lewd fanatics that he had since you first called him an ass to his face.

"B-because they have me in them?"

"mmm, try again~,” he teases.

"Because I wanna know what makes you feel good sir."

He smirks, his hands flicking over his head and smearing pre-cum down his shaft. "Mainly I think about you under me, fucking into you so rough your titis bounce under that silky top. Yes, making ride my thigh until your cryin' and creaming though the shorts making a big wet spot all before a fuck anther orgasm out of ya."

"Oh god," you gasp. Your body responds to his deceptions. “Remind me to wear that more when I get back. Can I go faster sir, please?"

“Of course doll," he tells you but don't register the sly tone. You wanna hear more of his voice and let him make you feel so good that you do not that think that there mighty a catch."Tell me how it feels."

You spread your legs wider, leaning your head back as you described the ecstasy coursing through your body as your fingers work at your clit faster," So good sir, my pussy sounds so wet for you. I miss you so much. My hole’s clenching around nothing sir.”

Sukuna lets out a ragged breath, fisting his cock faster ."That’s a good girl, Don't leave that tight cunt out, fuck yourself on your fingers for me."

"Ye-yes, sir," you were so wet at this point that your index and middle finger slipped right on in.

"Oh god, s-sir I can fit in two so easily."

Now it's Sukuna's turn to throw his head back. "And what about three?"

The noises you make are so cute m, so lewd, and shameless. Just how how lies to have you. You push in another, "Yes"

"And a fourth?"

"Mmm, makes me feel so full sir."

"That's good, that's good. Now fuck yourself like that was my cock filling you."

" y-yes sir, haa~ sir, feel so good, I can feel myself squeeze around them, so tight 'n' hot sir."

"That's it, that's my good girl,” he purrs. Sukuan swallows. He hopes that you can hear the quick fapfapfap of him stroking his cock. God did his body miss you did it crave to feel your touch again. He swears he can cum just knowing that he is not the only one craving sex.

The heel of your palm now scrapes over your clit making you tremble and moan Sukuna's name. you feel an orgasm growing and the world falling away.

"That’s it, that’s my good girl," he praises you making you feel so warm and happy. "Now stop."

"Sir~" You've graon but do as told.

Sukuna gets a rise out of this and laughs at you.,"Not so soft am I now?"

You blink up at the ceiling of your bedroom, fingers sit soaking in your cunt. soft? soft-" Are you serious? you bringing that up now?"

"I told you I wasn't going to forget that."

"Ugh, you are so evil."

His voice talks in that authoritative tone again, "I'm sorry what was that?"

"You are so evil, sir."

He hums. Sukuan grips the base of his cock. It weighs heavily in his hand, matching the weight he feels in his balls. They are filled with cum he wants to spill into your clenching hole and not his hand.

“Poor Y/N, “ he coos,” So hot and needy from her boyfriend's words, but he’s being so mean make you sit there with that needy cunt filled with her fingers.”

The wine that you make makes Sukuna groan, “That’s it doll, cry for me soem more. Beg for it.”

"pleeeease sir," your hole needy cut squeezes around your fingers, "Please let me fuck myself on my fingers for you. need it so bad. Please, sir."

Holy fuck are you a fast learner. In his state, the thought that you could be a succubus who knows just what to say makes his cock hard, and aching crosses his mind. Sukaun lets a low moan rumble through his chest, That’s it doll, more. G-give me more."

You inhale a wobbly breath, straining to keep your fingers still inside yourself. “It's so hard not to move sir. Not to curl my fingers inside me the way that you do. Miss the way you fuck me so much. Miss you so much, sir. I-i don’t think I can make myself cum the way you make me do.”

“You sound so patient right now,” Sukuna mocks you as he starts to stroke his erection again. “Can’t even make herself cum, you have to have me ther to do it for you. It's only been a few days and you already miss this fat cock stuffing you cunt. Fucking you full of my cum until you’re screaming.”

“Sir please,” you beg.

You hear Sukuna’s harsh breath on the other end,” fuck, sound so good when you beg like th-Ah! That Doll. You wanna cum with me?”

“Yesyesyes,” you nod eagerly even though he can’t see you. Your cunt is just as eager squeezing around your fingers.

“Then go on, fuck yourself for me doll, let me hear all those cute noises you make as you cum imaging those fingers are my cock fucking you like your my little sex doll.”

Finally being given permission to pleasure yourself, you began pumping your fingers in and out of you. Ecstasy runs rampant through your system. Your soft cries of pleasure sound so good to Sukuna. He groans pumping his fists faster.

“That's is doll that's is, that's it, fuck you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes, " your fingers curl and manage to find that spot inside you that makes you arch your back,” Please master let me cum, need to cum so bad.”

There is an amused moan from the other end before Sukaun taunts you,” Yea you need to cum that bad? You think you can get there with my voice alone?”

“Yes, please let me cum sir,” You plead feeling the pressure build in your gut, but you're somehow staving off an orgasm until Sukuna says which is madding. “I need so bad. Please, sir.”

Having you pleading like that and knowing he has so much power over you at this moment makes him feel so good. He curses as his hips jerk.

“My desperate little slut being such a good girl waiting for me to give her permission, “he says in a breathless voice.

You whimper this time making his eye roll back, “Yes I’m desperate to cum Sir. Please, please i need this. “

“Then cum,” Sukuna demands bucking his hips into his fist, “Hard.”

Your whole body feels light, your ass floating off the bed. You ruthlessly shove your fingers knuckle deep in your sopping wet pussy. Your palm ruts into your clit as you feel yourself become flooded with pleasure and ecstasy.

On the other end of the phone, Sukuna moans your name as cum covers his closed fist. He feels his cock twitch against his palm as spurt after spurt leaks from the tip and over his fingers.

As you float back down to your bed you barely register any of the lonely feelings of being home again.

“You still with me doll?” the softness of Sukuna’s voice for the other end begins your voice back.

“Yeah,” you give a small uncomfortable noise as you slip your finger out of yourself, “just, wowed like always.”

“How you feelin’?” he asks reaching over to grad some tissue for his nightstand.

“Great, I think I really need that….and to just hear your voice. Thank you for picking up.”

Sukuan throughs the tissue into the trash leaving the two of you in silence before replying, “Even if I’m annoyed with you for designing your ghosting shit… I’ll always pick up Y/N”

“Thank you.”, your voice wobbles a bit,” I’m sorry for haunting you.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes “Come on don't start crying again.”

“I’m sorry it's just a lot harder when I’m home.”

“God stop apologizing you sound so pathetic,” Sukuna scoffed then addressed you in a stern voice,” Listen y/n, stand proud. You are strong. You will continue to smile and endure your family knowing that you will come back here. When you do come back then you can let out all those emotions, to me, in my arms. Understood? “

“Yes sir,” you confirm wiping away your tears,” But can you do one more thing for me? Well, two actually.”

His automatic reply is, “Anything.”

“Can you stay on the line until I fall back asleep? And, can you keep giving me those cute little updates about your day? They kind of make mine.”

“As long as you don't call them cute, then yes.

You pull up your shorts and settle back under the comforter. You get lulled back to sleep by his soft voice and more stories about what everyone has been up to since you left. And just when you are on the edge of falling asleep ask,” Oh, and doll?”

“Hmmm?”

“Happy holidays,” he says and wants to say more, but he thinks neither of you is ready for those words, at least not yet.

You make a happy hum on the other end of the phone and Sukuna only ends the call when he can hear your even breaths and a slight snore here and there.

#sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk college au #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jjk sukuna #privet stacks #jujutsu kaisen

90 notes · View notes

lottiecrabie · 6 months

Note

pfms matty taking reader trick or treating because she was never allowed to celebrate halloween growing up since her parents said it was the devils holiday blah blah

pfms crumb for u all

it’s october 31 and matty waits for her in the most undedicated devil costume. he wears his usual attire; some ripped, black clothes, as well as a pair of dollar tree red horns. black nailpolish and eyeliner is the most effort he’s put in his little get-up, and even that’s not far off from half of his basement shows.

he leans against the side of his van, several houses away. around him, small children and overrun adults roam the streets. there’s a shield of safety to the pumpkins and jolly ‘trick or treat’s; with everyone wearing a mask, they can be whoever they want.

she practically skips to him, licking the smile of her teeth. ‘you’re still not funny,’ she chastises, though the amusement betrays her voice.

‘what?’ matty grins. ‘it’s fitting. i’ve been told i’m the devil incarnate before.’

‘oh, my gosh. i did not say that, you dramaqueen.’

matty draws a hand out, catching hers and drawing her to him. she balances herself with two hands on his shoulders, blinking up at him. here she goes again, practically begging him to kiss her with some flutter of eyelashes.

‘i like the halo,’ he says, flicking it. she scowls, replacing the halo again. ‘you look cute.’

‘thanks.’

his hand drops to her waist, burning at the flimsy fabric. ‘we better not stain this dress. they won’t be able to recognize your costume then, angel.’ she flushes, thinking of that first party— and many more since. you hide in the crook his neck and he roars out a laugh, throat vibrating where her nose burrows. she smiles softly, kissing it. ‘i’ll keep my hands off, but i don’t know if we can trust you…’

‘hey,’ she says, looking up.

‘you’re impossible when you’re drunk.’

‘me?’ she says in faux-affront, as though she didn’t become some sort of superhuman glue any time red wine lingered on her tongue, sticking and sticking to his side.

‘alright, let’s go before george accuses us of ditching setting up to fool around.’

she snorts. ‘what could have possibly given him that idea, right?’ matty smirks, rounding the car. she holds the door handle, watching the little princesses and marios knocking on doors, sugared-up gullets smiling wide. something pinches in her heart. she bites her cheek, then sighs, opening the car door and stepping through.

‘what?’ matty says immediately, always some strange way of reading her. it doesn’t spook her nearly as much as it used to, doesn’t unnerve her from the inside-out.

‘nothing,’ she waves away. ‘it just seems fun.’

he frowns. ‘what does?’

‘being all dressed-up, going door to door, asking for candies.’ she vaguely gestures outside. on the sidewalk, a mother high-fives a tiny witch, rubbing her hair with a laugh.

‘you’ve never trick-or-treated?’

she gives him a deadpan look. ‘you mean the devil’s holiday that encourages gluttony and demonic activities?’ halloween was spent the same every year; hiding in a silent house with the lights off and the blinds shut, as though evil spirits could sense them through the cracks and rob their soul if they dared acknowledge it.

matty’s eyes soften at her. he reaches a hand out, warming her thigh. ‘well, i’m the devil,’ he waves to his silly horns, ‘so we have to celebrate.’

she gives him a humorous look. ‘what? go trick-or-treating at our age?’

he nods solemnly. ‘yes.’

‘what about the party?’

matty waves her away, already getting out of the car. ‘who cares?’

‘well, george.’ still, she’s opening the door, a giddy energy in her limbs. she jumps out as matty retrieves two plastic bags from the back of his dirty van.

‘c’mon,’ he says, already walking towards the first house of the street she runs behind him, laughing.

‘are we really doing this?’ she whispers, like this was a crime.

‘why wouldn’t we?’

he walks the stairs decidedly, uncaring of the looks parents give him. she pinches her thumb awkwardly, though not enough to hurt. she stands on the porch, unsure. she throws him a glance; he rings the doorbell.

a flushed-cheeked woman opens up. her eyes draw up to their height, a surprised oh leaving her mouth. matty stares at her. her eyes widen before she smiles at the woman. ‘trick or treat?’ her grin stretches strangely over her lips, as though it, too, didn’t know if it should be here.

the woman grins. ‘still kids at heart, huh?’

‘that’s right, ma’am,’ matty nods.

in their stretched out bags, she drops three pieces of candies each. this time, her grin brightens her face. ‘thanks!’

‘have a goodnight, kids!’ the woman cheers, then closes the door.

‘i can’t believe we did that,’ she whispers to him, jumping down each stair. matty laughs, shaking his head. he reaches into his bag, pulling out a lollipop, taking off the plastic, and sucking it into his mouth. her eyebrows raise. ‘you’re not gonna wait?’

‘why would i?’

decidedly, she takes a mini pack of gummy bears, ripping it open and biting off the first one’s head. the sugar fills her mouth. she laughs. ‘oh, this is fun.’

‘yeah?’

she smiles at him. ‘yes. thanks.’

he grins, throwing an arm around her shoulder and tugging her to his side. ‘anything for you, angel.’ they walk up the stairs of the next house.

#pfms fluff Rare sight #any lottiecrabie fluff actually #pray for my soul #blurb #crablurb #halloween #ask

111 notes · View notes

livia25leelover · 2 months

Text

A White Christmas in Outworld

Mortal Kombat 11 : Shao Kahn x fem reader

NOTE : Dear fem reader, this is my very first story I write. I hope you'll enjoy the Christmas edition of Shao Kahn x fem reader. I must mention I saw nobody on Tumblr made the Christmas version for him, so I'm giving you the first one ever Xmas of him, girls. Also the fem reader is chubby, semi chubby or curvy, and needs more body positivity ♡ Myself I am chubby. Enjoy it!!

This year...I'm dreaming of a white Christmas in Outworld just like the one from Earthrealm.

Is a usual day in Outworld's kingdom. The citizens were doing the daily work while the children are playing all day long. At the Kahn palace, the servants were always serving with loyality their vigurous monarchs of Outworld. Shao Kahn the Emperor and his lovely wife Empress Y/N. They married recently and since her influence changed Outworld into a good and better realm, she even brought peace between all realms. Y/N is an earthrealmer, a lovely and kind woman to everyone, with a strong and wise mind into her royal duties as the Kahnum of Outworld. She always haves free time for herself. On the other side, unfortunately, Shao Kahn as an Emperor, almost never had time with his empress or even for himself. Actually they were very busy with modernizing Outworld after they came back from the honeymoon because Y/N wanted to feel like home.

Now once the month december entered, last month of the year, inspired the empress with a great idea! Is actually something special for the orphans. In fact, she is a volunteer of Outworld's orphanage. The project she will be working on requires love and time which must be ready before Christmas so she can bring joy and hope into the little hearts of orphans. Y/N realized that Christmas was missing from her kingdom and that's how she demands officially Outworld will celebrate Christmas for the first time in realm's history. The emperor hearing this, something caused his insecurity about it. Outworld never celebrated Christmas but the citizens are eager for centuries to do it.

Around 2 pm, after hours of royal duties, Shao Kahn returns to the royal bedroom. He opens the door and finds his wife Y/N working on her project. Goodness, she's glowing of beauty! Everytime when Shao Kahn sees her gentle face it brights up his heart even in the roughest days. And he goes towards her.

Shao Kahn : My love... *Says with a smile while holding and kissing the knuckles of her soft right hand*

Y/N : Awww Shao, my sweety! *Answers him with a sweet smile and blushing while looking at him* How are you honey? Everything good in our kingdom?

Shao Kahn : Everything is good...just like your heart, my queen.

Y/N : I'm glad to hear that Shao. Quite and peace.

Resuming her work, Shao was wondering what is she working on.

Shao Kahn : So...can you tell me, my queen, what are you working on?

Y/N : Is a surprise for the orphans. I wanna bring happiness and hope to their hearts. Christmas is the holiday of hope. Is the only way to bring everyone together and spend the time like a family.

Her warm words got through the Kahn's heart understanding her wish and the importance of the holiday. But he's concerned.

Shao Kahn : But my queen, do you think is this a good idea?

Y/N : Of course it is to do it for them! *Answers with joy*

Shao Kahn : No my love. I am talking about bringing this holiday into my realm. Actually...our realm my love. Do you think is a good idea to bring Christmas here?

Suddenly, she turns her gaze to her emperor.

Y/N : What do you mean, my king?

Shao Kahn : Is concerning me...Outworld never had such "jolly" holiday as you earthrealmers call it. Sounds amazing but I have a feeling that is not a good idea. I'm not sure why.

The expression you could read in his eyes made his wife worry about him. Y/N knows Shao Kahn used to be a tyrant ruler he got used with most of the changes they did together in their kingdom. With a gentle voice she asks him.

Y/N : Why are you saying that? Can you tell me why do you feel like that? if you know why.

Shao Kahn : Each change you did in Outworld concerned me at first. And uncomfortable in the same time. But...this holiday should not be in Outworld. It doesn't represent it.

Y/N : What?

Shao Kahn : You heared me well my empress.

She was affraid of that...affraid that he will say those words that might hurt her. She tries not to cry and gets up from her chair, hardly forming words while looking at him

Y/N : That's what concerned you about everything I did for our empire? Understand that all I did is to change it into good this realm. I wanna feel like home...and you know how much I miss Earthrealm.

Shao Kahn : I know my queen you do. But all these are too sudden for me. You know how I was before.

At that moment, he realized what he said did hurt his queen.

Y/N : *Makes a few steps towards Shao* Shao...I miss home.

Shao Kahn : I know well you do, Y/N.

Y/N : Please...understand me.

She looks up in his red eyes that got soften seeing her innocent and angelic eyes. He wraps his arms around Y/N into a warm embrace as he looked down to her. Giving a chance to Christmas won't hurt anyone and neither him.

Under that scary draconic helmet, Shao smiles while caressing gently with his right hand the back of her head.

Shao Kahn : Alright my queen. Let's celebrate it. As long you are happy then I am too.

Y/N : Thank you Shao!

The warm hug they shared together finally broke the tension between them.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Later on, the emperor of Outworld and his loyal queen, left the palace together to check the empire and see if the preparations for Christmas. Y/N couldn't be more delighted! To visit and help the citizens of Outworld always makes her happy. In the same time you can see the passion they put into their work, is reflected in the progress they do. Everything works perfect!

Afterwards, at the orphanage Y/N and Shao has finally arrived. Their visit is always welcome. Again the empress's kindness influenced Outworld. Today's task is to talk and listen just to find out what the orphans are wishing for Christmas. Honestly this is Y/N's favorite part.

But the funniest part of her plan is to ask Shao Kahn to disguise in Santa Clause, actually Santa Kahn, to bring the gifts to the orphans. She hopes he will accept this idea because it will a great entertaiment for them. So the wishlist becomes very handy in this case while working together on it. All orphans came and sat down in circle around the emperor and empress. They watched them both with adoration in their hearts. An interesting thing is that the orphans weren't affraid of the Emperor Shao which is good.

"I want a teddy-bear!", "A pony", "Ballerina slippers so I can dance", "A plane or a flying prototype something like that!", "I wish to have a train", "Can Santa bring me a shield and a sword? I wanna become a knight", "I always dreamed to have my own baby doll", "I need a doll house", "CAR! I wish a car! VROOM VROOM!!!", "A biology book to learn more about plants", "I think a board game would be great. I'd be happy to play it with my brothers", "Doctor's box", "I wish Santa could bring me coloring pencils and paint colors", "Marbles", "I wish to have a tea time set", "I want a ball", "Telephone!", "A drum", "Ice skates", "I think...a water gun", "Fairy wings", "A furby friend...cuz I don't have friends", "I always wanted a Barbie doll!", "Does Santa can bring me a robot toy?", "I'd love yo have a dog", "Lego", "KITTY!!". And that's how the wishlist got full.

Before leaving the orphanage, Y/N checked twice the wishlist while humming the song "Santa Claus is coming to town".

Shao Kahn : Are you ready my empress?

Y/N : Just a moment honey. Hmm... everything is on the list.

Shao Kahn : Good. That's all for now.

Y/N : Yep! it is indeed.

As they were going to leave, one of the nuns offered them a basket gift as a token of gratitude from the orphanage They thanked her and went back to the palace.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

In the royal bedroom, Y/N is sitting on the sofa starring at the view from the window while drinking a forest fruits tea served with vanilla cookies as Shao was searching on his phone about Christmas. He got curious about it, he wants to understand why Christmas is so cherished on Earthrealm.

This little break they have now is some quite time with themselves. For sure they didn't had in a long time that much free time together. Just a moment of peace and refuge. Y/N was thinking how to decorate the palace and get a Christmas tree but she wants to do all these with Shao Kahn, not alone. Indeed she does wish for both of them to spend more time together like any married couple but because they are the rulers of Outworld, they are expected to be a positive example for the citizens and that's what she is wishing for.

For a second she snaps out of her thoughts and asks Shao.

Y/N : Would you like to make the decorations in the palace, Shao?

Shao Kahn : Sure! we'll ask the servants to do that.

Y/N : Actually...

Shao Kahn : What is it? *turns the gaze to her*

Y/N : I just want to do it together...me and you.

She said with shyness, blushing and looking down. Shao's answer is not stern, is calm and happy.

Shao Kahn : Oh, that? Sounds even better my love! I'd love to! How could I refuse you? Of course I'll decorate with you.

Y/N : Really?!

Shao Kahn : Yes.

Y/N : I'm so glad to hear that Shao!

With happiness she jumps towards him to give him a warm hug and as an answer Shao Kahn wrapped his arms around his empress with love. In fact, for Shao to seeing her happy means everything to him.

So for the rest of the day, they remained alone in their room to choose the Christmas decorations to buy for the whole palace.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The next day, in the morning, Y/N the Empress left Outworld to travel to Earthrealm through the portal. The Emperor of Outworld, honestly, sometimes forgets his queen is an earthrealmer but all he can do is to keep his calm. Definitely he wanted to come with her on Earthrealm just to keep her safe. Y/N was going to make the shopping with her best friend from the Special Forces, Cassie Cage, always glad to help Y/N anytime when is need.

Shao Kahn remained in Outworld to manage the planifications. Under his supervise the whole process according to the plan, everything must turn out perfect : the menu, the Christmas fair and the invitations for the Christmas ball at the Kahn palace.

For the first time, the Kahn palace will serve the Christmas menu. At this point Shao Kahn is an expert in food when it comes about selecting the most delicious meals for the royal spoils for him and his queen, always bringing satisfaction at finest to their taste.

The Christmas fair will be full of fun and entertaiment to bring all families to spend their time with children. It'll be music, games, lights and anything a fair needs. Citizens are eager about it!

Meanwhile at shopping on Earthrealm, Y/N and Cassie finally had the girls time after a long period since Y/N married with the Kahn and becaome the Kahnum of Outworld. The Christmas spirit is alwyas present in Earthrealm bringing joy to everyone along with the music in each shop and mall everywhere.

Y/N : I'm so happy you joined me at shopping Cassie, thank you!

Cassie Cage : Always glad to help you girl!

Both are enjoying their time.

Cassie Cage : Soooo...did you told him?

Y/N : About what?

Cassie Cage : The stork, sweetie.

Y/N : Ooooh!!! That!! the pregnancy.

Cassie Cage : Haven't you told him yet?

Y/N : Honestly... no, I didn't.

Cassie Cage : When are you gonna tell him?

Y/N : On Christmas. I just want this to be a surprise present for him, mostly a gift for both of us. But...

Cassie Cage : What is it?

Y/N : I need to make time to visit a doctor for an ultrasound exam.

Cassie Cage : I can help you with that! *says happy* You know, you have health insurance from the Special Forces anytime you need it.

For some several seconds of silence, Cassie haves an idea.

Cassie Cage : Hey! Wait a minute! after we finish shopping, how about to take you to the doctor? I'm sure is avaiable today.

Y/N : Sure! That'a a great idea, Cassie!!

Cassie Cage : Thank you! Also, besides that, Shao Kahn only knows you are at shopping. And this is the perfect timing. *smiles playfully at Y/N*

Both are laughting with joy.

Y/N : Oh my god! I need even a dress for the Christmas ball, which you are invited my dear, you can come with your parents only if you want.

Cassie Cage : Thank you Y/N! Can't wait to come at your ball. Also I can help you find the perfect dress.

Y/N and Cassie shares a warm hug of their friendship as they continued the shopping.

Afferwards, Cassie drove in safe to a clinic. Y/N entered inside the clinic to arrive to her appointment. Once she got there, Y/N was soo nervous putting lot of questions into her mind about the pregnancy. But what matters the most is for the baby to be healthy.

After a while, she comes out with a warm and happy smile that you can see even from distance. For Cassie seeing her friend like this, definitely there are good news about it. Y/N said nothing but remained happy holding the pictures from the ultrasound check and for sure she knows what a great gift would be for her husband, Shao Kahn, of how excited he will be.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Meanwhile, in Outworld, Shao is taking a break from the full schedule and waiting for his empress to return home safety. Oh, and how much he wants to hug her in his warm and protective arms, just to keep her to his chest and never let go!

Speaking of her, his wife Y/N finally has returned home, to the palace. Seeing her, he can't help it...Shao Kahn ran towards her and scopped her in his strong arms, offering her a deep kiss to show how much he missed her, his beautiful empress. They looked in eachothers eyes. You could see the sparkle of love in their eyes that is truly proving they treasure it each second. For the servants, this view brings happiness into their hearts as always, knowing how happy their royal rulers are together.

No eye contact was broken as they heared the Special Forces bringing all Christmas decorations and toys inside the palace. Everything that is in need is here.

And as for the lovely monarchs of Outworld, they are so eager to start the decorations, just both.

Shao Kahn : I've been waiting for you, my love.

Y/N : Awww Shao! honeybunny, I knew you were.

Smiles to eachother and starts the decorations. The colors she chosen where white, gold, silver, red, green and purple. Each room from the palace had a color or two. For example, tbe royal bedroom was decorated with purple and silver, the dinning hall with gold, and the ballroom with red and green.

Now after hours spent decorating the whole palace, the greatest and most beautiful part comes, the Christmas tree. Y/N is excited to decorate it with Shao Kahn, a way to enjoy their time along with the Christmas spirit. The Emperor is going to love this. They placed the tree in the living room. It is indeed huge but it fits perfectly with the quite ambiance.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

A few days later passed, in the Christmas eve, around 2:30 pm, one of the servants came fast as it could to Shao Kahn who was found in his study room reading a book.

Servant : Your majesty! We've got problems!

Hearing the word "problems" Shao's silence was broken.

Shao Kahn : *looks at the servant* What happened?!

Servant : You better come. *trembles in fear and panic*

As he saw the servant trembling in fear, Shao Kahn knew what could be. The servant leaded him outside the palace. And there was the chaos. The Christmas fair wasn't going to be held because of the fights between market workers, arguing about minor stuffs. But inside the Kahn palace...it was even worse... The meals for the Christmas ball were a disaster! most of them were burnt and others were raw. Shao could see how dirty was the royal kitchen turned upside down. In the living room, the Christmas tree was found on the ground. The floor was full of broken globes... honestly, seeing the sight of all these, made the Kahn worry. It was the mother of all disasters! Everything was out in control!

Once he went to the bedroom, opening and then closing the door of it, Shao couldn't believe his eyes! He saw Y/N devastated laying on the bed on the side facing the window, crying and sobbing. She couldn't breath properly. Shao Kahn doesn't like to see her in this statement. Immediately he goes to her to comfort her.

Shao Kahn : Y/N, what happened?

Y/N : I…I…

Shao Kahn : My empress, my love, my heart, tell me, what happened?

He asked as he cupped her cheeks gently looking into her eyes full of tears.

Y/N : What can I say? Christmas is ruined!!!

She says while her tears kept falling on her red cheeks. Her statement makes Shao feel utterly sad. He wipes gently her tears with his big and warm hands, sending calm waves through her cheeks.

Shao Kahn : I saw what happened. Is not ruined my love, have faith.

Y/N : But tomorrow is Christmas. We worked so hard to make everything perfect. How are we suppossed to celebrate it? Is a whole mess what I did! I couldn't manage it alone myself.

Shao Kahn : I know you are very sad and devastated my queen. But I'm sure everything will be alright. I know how much this means to you, Y/N. Indeed we worked hard and putted lot of love in this. Only you bring joy and hope in Outworld…your presence sooths each rough edge of this kingdom. You mean everything to the citizens…you mean everything to me, my sweetheart. Everyone believes in you.

His gentle words encouraged Y/N as she tried to calm while Shao looks in her eyes, wipping the tears of sadness. At that moment the emperor lets everything behind that he had to do and decides to remain in the bedroom with his empress for the rest of the day. Hugging and caressing her his queen gently with love.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵.

The next day in the morning, Christmas has came. Y/N found herself alone in the bedroom. She got up to prepare to leave the palace to go at the orphanage but while doing this, she sees a note on the dresser.

"Come at the orphanage, my love. Always remember to have faith. Everything will be good. Your Emperor".

The note was from Shao Kahn. After reading it, makes her smile and blush as the words got through her.

When she left, she noticed the palace was quite. The servants were gone. It didn't matter anymore the disaster that was made yesterday.

She had to stay positive as she traveled with the surprise towards the orphanage, dressed as Mrs Claus. When she got there, the kids were waiting for her in the salon. She sits gracious on the chair close to the Christmas tree. In her soft hands it was a book, not just any book. It was a huge book with ilustrations and interaction, they were tridimensional.

The story is about how she and the Kahn met, how love and destiny bringed them together. A love story that united an earthrealmer and an outworlder that it meant even the begining of peace between both realms, Earthrealm and Outworld, that are today living in balance. For the orphan kids is like a fairytale with a princess who is conquered by a prince. Hearing them to say all these made her burst out a laugh of joy.

The orphans asks where is Santa Claus. The empress answers a bit concerned, unsure.

Y/N : Well...I don't know if he arrived but I think he just...

In that moment she is interrupted by Shao Kahn's appearence, wearing the Santa Claus outfit, behind the Christmas tree while carring the bag full of gifts.

Shao Kahn : HO HO HO!!!! Santa Kahn is in Outworld kids!!!

At that moment the orphans were soo happy to see him. The empress remained surprised to see her husband who made her smile...watching the whole view of him listening each orphan kid to say a poem or sing, rewarding them with the gifts they wished for. Honestly is really impressive how it started this day! It was unexpected to Y/N. At the end of it, all orphans prepared a carol for this ocassion to show their gratitude to Santa Kahn.

Afterwards, Shao and Y/N left together the orphanage, happy.

Shao Kahn : Tell me my queen, how it was? Impressed?

Y/N : Yes I am! It was...WONDERFUL!!!

Shao Kahn : Then my queen is satisfied.

Said the emperor with a large smile looking down to Y/N. By no warning, the Kahn makes the hammer appears in his right hand, swings it carefull in his hand and with speed and precise throws it up in the air. Y/N panics a bit but Shao Kahn caught the hammer that fallen right in his hand.

Y/N : What did you did?!

Shao Kahn : You'll see.

Suddenly something white and small has fallen in front of them but more started to fall. Snowflakes? Snowflakes in Outworld? Yes, it started to snow, first snow in Outworld.

Y/N : Awww Shao! You did this for me?

Shao Kahn : Sure my queen. Only for you to be happy. And even for everyone to feel more the Christmas spirit.

He knew this small detail that without snow Christmas can't be complete. Bringing snow in Outworld is truly surprising and will remain in history this moment.

Y/N : I can't believe it! First snow in Outworld!

Shao said nothing, he just smiles watching her twirl around while more snow falls.

On their way, she saw the market wasn't in chaos anymore. Is actually the Christmas fair! How was that possible to pick and clean up everything in a short time? I guess only Shao knows how.

Back at the Kahn palace, empress Y/N was ataken. The meals weren't burnt or raw anymore, they looked perfect and fresh. And in the living she found the Christmas tree brand new! Each globe from it was totally new, not anymore broken or cracket like yesterday in the Christmas eve. Not a single broken piece. All these surprised the queen.

Y/N : Shao, what happened? Everything seems just soo...clean!

The emperor looks into her eyes with a proud expression on his face.

Shao Kahn : Always have faith, my love. I told you everything will be alright. After all, Christmas can not be ruined.

Y/N : You did all these for me?

He nods. She started to blush and smiles a lot at his answer. It happened exactly as he preached. Everytime Shao sees her blushing, he laughs with joy.

Y/N : I thought everything is over with Christmas...

Shao Kahn : Over? Why say such thing? Nothing is impossible for my lovely and beautiful empress, Y/N.

Y/N : So...its gonna be great, right my emperor?

Shao Kahn : Of course. Especeally the Christmas ball. I can not wait to see you wearing the most breath taking dress from the whole world.

Y/N : Me too Shao.

For a second she remembered about the gift for Shao.

Y/N : Oh! I forgot. You've got something too for Christmas honey.

Shao Kahn : Would you like to tell me what is it?

Y/N : Sure. But let's go in the bedroom to tell you private.

Shao Kahn can't help it but smirks playfully to Y/N. He says nothing. She holds his big hand and walks in their bedroom, once there she closes the door and turn around to face him. Makes steps closer towards him and while she smiles leading him to the dresser which there was a red envelope. Honestly Shao Kahn did not expect for a Christmas gift but still he had a wish. He picks up the red envelope as he watched it and opens it carefull. His eyes widen as he sees what it was inside of it.

Shao Kahn : My empress, what is this?

Y/N : We won't be two anymore.

Shao Kahn : What do you mean?

Y/N : *slowly smiles* I'm pregnant my emperor. With twins.

Shao Kahn : On the Elder Gods! That's such amazing gift my empress! Goodness! Finally we start having our own family.

Y/N : Indeed, Shao Kahn.

Wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her to himself to embrace her looking with soft and sparkle of joy in his eyes.

Shao Kahn : I couldn't ask for more my empress. Is all I wished for. *picks her up in bridal style*

He held Y/N like a feather as he puts her gently on bed. Y/N couldn't stop looking at his soft look while he raised up the skirt of her dress revealing her belly. He caresses her belly soothingly before giving a soft kiss.

Afterwards, he holds her hand caressing her knuckles. And as their faces are coming closer to eachother, they finally share a deep kiss. Truly the greatest Christmas gift ever.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

At night, at the Christmas ball everyone from all realms came. Cassie Cage, Johnny Cage, Sonya Blade along with Special Forces and all warriors from Earthrealm came to celebrate the first Christmas in Outworld. No one expected for a great event in Outworld but today it is.

Shao Kahn and Y/N, the rulers of Outworld made their appearence in white-red clothes, hand to hand, smilling with such joy in their hearts to see everyone enjoying the ball.

Y/N : Everyone! Please listen. First of all I and my emperor, we want to thank you to all realms for coming tonight at the first Christmas ball in Outworld.

*Everyone aplause*

Shao Kahn : Also we want to make a special announcement which will be a reason to celebrate even more this night.

Everyone stayed quite and curious to listen the emperor.

Shao Kahn : My empress is pregnant with twins!

Everyone cheered in joy to hear the announcement. Even the emperor and his loveable queen were happy about it. Leans at her level and shares a warm and long hug, afterwards Shao Kahn takes off the helmet to kiss his wife, Y/N. The way he looked into her eyes its like showing relief to know they become parents. With love the Kahn family will grow.

All invited guests congratulated the two monarchs.

Shao Kahn : Seems the Christmas you wished for did turned perfect in our kingdom, my love. Stubborn you are, but you have ambition with the most ideal visions.

Y/N : Truly perfect, my sweet husband.

Shao Kahn : Now...my Empress

Bows in front of Y/N and holds out a hand to her.

Shao Kahn : May I have this dance?

Y/N : Yes, I'd love to. *smiles a lot and blushes*

Shao Kahn held her soft hand pulling her close to him and grabs by her waist. As the music started, the Emperor of Outworld and his Empress started to dance on the rythm of the Christmas theme as the guests did the same.

In the end, the first Christmas in Outworld turned perfect as everyone enjoyed the rest of the night. Besides all these, Christmas bringed the emperor Shao Kahn and his queen Y/N together again so they can spend more time like before, share and cherish each moment.

#shao kahn x fem reader #shao kahn x reader #shao kahn x self insert #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat 11 #canon x reader #shao kahn x reader mk11

22 notes · View notes

jokeringcutio · 1 year

Text

"Drabble: The Magician" - Reader x ArthurFleck (established/Joker) & Unrequited Reader x TheGrabber

Crossover time: Fandoms: Joker 2019 + Black Phone 2022

Rating: PG13? Warnings: None really, possessive Arthur, Hints at Arthur already being Joker. Jealousy. For : @lussiane333, Hopefully the first of many crossover drabbles. ~~ Masterlist - Request Box - Support me on Ko-Fi ~~ "Drabble: The Magician" It wasn’t crowded, but most of the audience consisted of children. Most, not all. Beside you, Arthur sat, hand twitching nervously. The magician in front of the audience magicked balloons from out of his hat and tore up a newspaper to make it whole again. You were impressed, even if you’d seen most of his tricks before. But this man was good.

You let your eyes drift to Arthur whose jaw was clenched. He wasn’t as pleased. The white-painted face might have something to do with it, a poor imitation of his own makeup mask. Not quite a clown. But there was more to it, you thought. Perhaps he missed performing? After all, he used to be the one to make the children smile.

Your eyes drifted back to the magician. His fingers were nimble, his draws quick. You felt his eyes upon you a few times, and encouragingly smiled at him whenever he looked your way. Blue-grey eyes, bright and light unlike any you’d ever seen. They bore into you and left their mark. You glanced at your side again, but Arthur’s vivid green eyes were upon the man in front of you, observing his every move.

The man asked a child from the front row to assist him with his next trick. She loved it, and so did the crowd. He was quite good with kids, you thought, charming even. His voice was light and high, not his natural, you thought. The man asked a boy up next, and you loved how he engaged the entire audience, making them go ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ and giving a round of applause that made the children he chose as his assistants feel special and proud.

If this had been all, you’d have thought the man to be a pleasant and well-skilled performer. But then something happened that changed it all.

“For my next trick I will need a volunteer,” his eyes roamed the small crowd, then came to rest on you. “How about you, little lady,” he said in his jolly voice. But something about his gaze wasn’t as playful. It was predator-like. “Would you like to help me out?”

You hesitated, feeling how Arthur by your side tensed when the magician chose you. But everyone was looking at you with such great expectations. Refusing would not do, would it? It would only draw more attention to the two of you and you could not risk that. You didn’t want people to notice Arthur and risk it all.

You took a moment too long to decide, and the magician made it even harder for you. “Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for my lovely assistant,” here he paused to look at you again and gestured for you to come hither.

Frozen and uncertain of what to do, you felt Arthur’s elbow in your back, encouraging you to step forth. Hesitatingly, you stood up and approached the magician.

His grin grew when you stepped closer, then he took off his hat and bowed. You noticed how his long hair was greying at the roots. It resembled Arthur’s hair, though less curly and more wispy. Then the hat was on again and the man straightened his spine. “What is your name, love?”

You whispered your name, which he repeated loud enough for everyone in the back to hear. Another arm stretched out, palm upward, and another plea for applause, after which the magician performed his trick with a coloring book – of all things. He guided your hand with the paintbrush in it, saying a magic word as he tried to fill the black-and-white page with color. It didn’t work the first time. But when his hot hand encircled yours, and his warm palm pressed tight against your skin and guided your hand and the brush in it, the book was suddenly filled with colors.

When you glanced at Arthur you saw the shadow over his features. The magician’s hand was still possessively over your own. His body pressed close to yours. Like Arthur’s, you thought. He’s like him.

He bowed deep after he thanked you, a predatory grin on his lips. You recognized it. Of course, you did. And so had Arthur by the look on his face. It was like a thunderstorm had come over him. He sat with his arms folded in front of his chest when you returned to your seat next to him, lips curled downwards like a theatre mask. He was angry. Surely he understood that you had no other choice? That refusing the magician might have risked exposing Arthur, even if he was in his normal clothes.

You didn’t fail to notice how the magician’s eyes kept sliding back to you all through his performance. He was like Arthur, all right. The thought alone sent shivers down your spine. Because you knew how Arthur was. Who he was. And what he had done.

After the performance, the two of you walked home, arms linked. Arthur was still bristling. “I did not like the entertainer,” he said, voice nearly a whine but not quite. He was doing his best to sound unbothered, when clearly, he was angered beyond belief.

“The magician?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“That one.” It was as if a shadow fell over Arthur’s features. His lips pressed into a thin line in displeasure. You had hoped to see a show with him would have lightened his mood. Instead, it had done the opposite.

“You don’t like anyone,” you said, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. He took long strides as if he was eager to get away. You had to try and keep up with him, which you only managed because of your linked arms.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, “but I especially don’t like that man.”

The two of you rounded a corner and you halted, forcing Arthur to come to a stop as well. He looked down at you, clearly confused. His green eyes sought yours.

“You know what?” you said, looking up at him. A small smile slipped on your lips when you whispered. “Neither did I.”

You could see Arthur’s mind racing. Usually, you were his voice of reason, the one who berated him and told him that he was overreacting. To hear you agree with him on something like this was quite new. But you had felt it. When your eyes had locked with those blue-grey ones of the magician, you knew there was something wrong with him. “There’s something about him,” you said. “Something,” you hesitated, then finished with a whisper. “Dark.”

“Dark?” Arthur turned to face you, not noticing how the topic of your conversation was now in front of you. A big black van with Abracadabra on the side was parked next to the sidewalk. You noticed how the green and blue letters shimmered in the sunlight. Behind it stood a very familiar man, a brown paper bag in his arms. You recognized attributes from his magic act. The top hat was on his head and his face was still painted white. But his piercing eyes that had betrayed the darkness inside of him were now hidden behind glasses.

“Good afternoon to you,” he piped, sounding way too jolly. His stage voice again, you thought.

“If it isn’t my lovely assistant.” Your name rolled off his lips like dripping honey, syrupy and sweet. You felt Arthur tense next to you, his whole pose rigid. The magician seemed to nearly drop his bag. The flowers that lay on top fell out of it.

“Oh my, would you look at that!” the man exclaimed. “I am so clumsy! Pardon me.”

But you were in front of him on your knees already, picking up the fallen items and handing the flowers to the magician with a shy smile. “Here you go,” you said, not realizing what you were doing until it was too late.

The magician put his bag in the back of the van and turned to take the flowers from your hands. A smile twisted his lips when his fingers brushed past yours. “Why, thank you, dear. Flowers, for me already? We only just met…”

You froze and practically felt Arthur seething a few paces behind you. But the magician was unperturbed. He leaned forward, stepping closer to you until you felt the heat radiate off his body. A scent drifted to you, cologne and a whiff of manly testosterone.

Then he was leaning back again and the distance between the two of you increased again. He turned to place the flowers in the back of his van. “I was just kidding, sweetheart,” you heard him say. Then he turned to face you again. You wished you could see his eyes behind his glasses, to know the look that was in his gaze now. Was he jesting as he claimed? Or was there more to it like you suspected?

“You seem frightened,” he stated, voice finally losing its high and pleasant lilt. In its stead, a raspy low voice came out. Was this his true voice, you wondered? Or another character in him?

“I am sorry,” he said, looking aside, “I did not mean to scare you.” His smile had faded and you thought he might be honest now. Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest. He was lucky, you thought. So very lucky that Arthur hadn’t brought a gun with him.

He hadn’t, right? Oh shit, had he brought the tiny one that he sometimes hid in his shoes?

You turned around to come face to face with Arthur. He had come closer and now stood behind you. The magician’s gaze must be resting on him too now, because Arthur was an imposing sight to see, standing tall and carrying a grimace of displeasure that could strike fear in anyone.

“I am sorry,” the magician said. You heard how his smile must have turned wry. “I was just telling your daughter how lovely an assistant she was.”

The reaction was instant. You felt how Arthur’s body tensed, then how his arm encircled your waist and he pulled you close. His grasp possessive, strong. This would leave no doubt.

You wondered if the magician’s eyes grew wider behind the glasses, because you swore you saw them raise. Then a frown slipped onto his face. “I see,” he murmured.

“I am sorry, Mister…” Arthur waited for the magician to answer, which he did.

The magician nodded curtly at Arthur while he introduced himself. “Albert,” he said, voice raspy and low still. “Albert Shaw.”

“Well, Mister Shaw, it seems that you are treading on dangerous ground.” A smile grew on Arthur’s face, one much like a shark’s. “You should be more careful with your assumptions in the future. You’ve been,” here Arthur paused to wet his lips, “awfully impolite.”

Those words invoked mental images inside your mind of Arthur at his worst, gun drawn and pointed at a helpless victim’s head, already on the floor on their back. You’d seen it before. Awfully impolite. Society. Triggers that made Arthur’s anger surface. Then Arthur broke you out of your thoughts when he turned to you and whispered near your ear, but loud enough so Albert, the magician, could hear, “It is time to go.” And then more pressing, “now.”

You nodded and placed your hand on Arthur’s forearm, a signal that you would follow him. Arthur’s gaze was a dangerous one, fully aimed at Albert as he took you away, back to the pavement. His arm was firm around you, his breathing heavy. A dangerous glint was in Arthur’s eyes and you knew, you just knew, what was going on inside that brilliantly obscure mind of his.

A plot for revenge. A plan for retribution.

Albert had touched something that was his. Something that Arthur had laid claim on. You.

And now that he had the magician’s name, there was no doubt in your mind that you would see that name appear in one of the newspapers pretty soon. Albert Shaw. Murdered. Visited by none other than the Joker.

Unless your feelings about the magician were right. Unless he was as dangerous as the Joker who had claimed you as his own. ~~ Masterlist - Request Box - Support me on Ko-Fi ~~ ~ Fin ~ AN: I am open to requests. This story was not beta-read, might do that later.

#drabble #joker 2019 drabble #arthur fleck x reader #female reader #reader insert #reader x villain #joker x reader #grabber x reader #the grabber x reader #albert shaw x reader #black phone and Joker crossover #older men with longer hair #the grabber x you #the joker x you #arthur fleck x you #arthur joker x reader

109 notes · View notes

thebunnylord · 4 months

Text

Sir Topham Hatt: everyone, the rolling stock choir of Sodor will now present a lovely Christmas carol.

Diesel: wait, since when did the trucks have a choir?

Toad: and why did no one tell me about it?

The Troublesome trucks: DIESEL THE DEVIOUS WAS NOT A JOLLY HAPPY SOUL!

Diesel: wait,

The troublesome trucks: WITH 0-6-0DE WHEELS AND A SUSPICIOUS LOOKING NOSE AND A VOICE MADE OUT OF OIL

Diesel: what’s wrong with my nose!?

The troublesome trucks: DIESEL THE DEVIOUS, WAS TOLD TO WORK ONE DAY! SO HE SAID !!!%%$!! YOU TO DUCK AND A FEW, BEFORE HE WAS SENT AWAY!

Duck: I kind of like this version

the Troublesome trucks: DOWN TO THE SHUNTING YARD! WITH SOME OIL ON HIS FACE, GROWLING HERE AND THERE AND AROUND THE YARD SAYING “SHUT UP YOU OLD STEAMERS I AM !!!%$#!! REVOLUTIONARY!!”

Edward: um… sir? You really think we should allow them to be swearing in front of the children?

The Troublesome trucks: THERE MUST HAVE BEEN SOME BROKEN TRUCKS ON THAT OLD SIDING TRACK HE FOUND! FOR WHEN HE TRIED TO PULL ‘EM WHEEN HE HEARD THEM HOLLER STOP!!

Thomas: this song is a bop!:

The troublesome trucks: OH DIESEL THE DEVIOUS!! HAD SEND DUCK ON HIS WAY! SO HE TOLD SOME LIES AND FRAMED MISTER DUCK AND SENT HIM ON HIS WAY!

Diesel: okay, it’s growing on me.

The Troublesome trucks: GGGRRRGGRRRYYY!! GRR GRR RGGGGRROOARRR GRR GRR! LOOK AT THAT DIESEL GO! GGGGRRRROOARRDDMM!! GRR GRR! GGRRR GRR GRR! OVER THE TRACKS HE GOES!

Diesel: …

Sir topham Hatt: ….

Duck: …

Edward: :O

Everyone: …

Thomas: :D that was beautiful!!

#ttte #thomas and friends #ttte incorrect quote #ttte diesel #ttte sir topham hatt #ttte the troublsome trucks #ttte duck #ttte thomas #ttte edward

26 notes · View notes

tiannasfanfic · 1 year

Text

The Night Before Christmas

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: After your final shift of the season at Starcourt Mall's Christmas Village, you prepare for your annual holiday celebration of one by stopping at Family Video for a few movies. You only came in for your annual favorites, but end up leaving with something very unexpected.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, they/them pronouns. Super fluffy, inspired by the meet-cute from one of my favorite Christmas movies.

CW: Cranky Santa's; mentions of marijuana use; accidental injuries (clunked on the forehead by a door); generic description of unisex elf outfit.

Word Count: 3,132

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore

If there was one place you could say for certain that you hated, it was the mall.

Though, there was one place you could easily say you hated worse than the mall, and that was mall at Christmas time.

And yet, here you were, on Christmas Eve, not only at the mall, but working as Santa’s right-hand elf.

Despite the fact you didn’t care for the holiday season as a whole, you really looked forward to this gig every December.

The first year you played an elf at the Christmas Village in Starcourt Mall, you were saving for your own place and had picked it up as a second job. However, you ended up finding the work way more enjoyable than most other jobs you’d had. It was the perfect fit for you. You loved performing and entertaining people, especially kids. And what better way to entertain kids than by fully falling into the role of Santa’s merry little elf, fresh off the plane from the North Pole? People always mistook you for a theater kid since you had a flair for the dramatic and were always flamboyant. As it turns out, that’s exactly the right attitude you needed in order to successfully play a Christmas elf.

After you were out of your parents’ house, you enjoyed it enough that you keep coming back every year to don the ill-fitting elf outfit.

Really, that was the only downside. The elf costume was the same for all of Santa’s elves regardless of gender; a green sweater, red knee length puffy pants, gold and white striped leggings, green elf shoes and a green elf hat. The whole thing was bespoken with bells, tinsel, shiny things, and anything else you would expect to see adorning an elf’s clothing.

And it was one size fits all, which meant it fit absolutely no one that wore it.

Ah well. Pros and cons. At least it was warm.

Even though the line shut down precisely at 4pm as it always did on Christmas Eve, it was closer to 5 by the time you got through everyone already standing in it. It had been a super busy day with everyone that waited until the last minute to get their Santa photos done.

Really though, it had been a super busy week in general ever since word got out around town that the Good Santa was back at Starcourt Mall. The parents of Hawkins didn’t know why, but three years ago, after using the same guy in the role for a long time, the mall decided to hire someone else to play Santa. And this made exactly no one happy, neither parent nor elf.

Even in the Santa suit, jolly was not in this man’s vocabulary. In fact, you were pretty sure if anything jolly came within five feet of him, it would immediately wither and die. He was cranky and mean to everyone, customers and fellow employees alike. At least half of the children who saw Santa during those years left crying, and so did most of the elves every night when they went home.

But, this year, the old Santa Claus was back in town.

Now this was a man who truly embodied the role, waving and smiling at people while waiting between visits with the kids, calling out “Merry Christmas“ to them in a boisterous, jolly voice. He looked very much like Santa; his suit like nothing anyone in that small town had ever seen, blending old traditions and new together in a suit that could have been custom made for the man himself.

But, most importantly, everyone loved him. There was rarely a screaming baby photo with this Santa around, he just had a natural, soothing presence for even the most fearful child. You were pretty sure nothing could get within five feet of that man and not leave in a fantastic mood. Even looking at him made a person smile.

While you were also happy to have the old Santa back, it always made you giggle every time you heard someone talking about how amazing he was over every other Santa in Hawkins.

It made you giggle because the Santa everyone loved so much was none other than your uncle, Reefer Rick.

Like you, Uncle Rick had been working the Christmas gig for a long time now, even helping you get hired your first year there, and he thoroughly enjoyed it. The only time he ended up missing out on it was for the three years that he was in jail.

Unlike you though, every December he was genuinely filled with holiday cheer, not just faking it like you were.

No one would have guessed it by looking at the man under normal circumstances since he looked like someone who started his grumpy old man stage early, but Rick was quite possibly one of the nicest men in town. But, considering the population never bothered to get to know the man that half of them bought their drugs from, few people actually knew that.

The truly funny part of it was, Uncle Rick didn’t really try to hide the fact he was Santa. He didn’t disguise his voice, drove the same car, everything. But if anyone ever figured it out, they chose to ignore it. Between the padding he wore under the Santa costume that made him look moderately plump, a beard properly applied to his skin with spirit gum, a dash of makeup, and a cheerful demeanor that would rival the real Santa himself, it was easy for people to pretend they didn’t see what they didn’t want to see.

At the end of the day, so long as everyone was happy, and Uncle Rick was, then you guessed that was all that mattered.

You never bothered to change before leaving the mall since it always gave kids a giggle to see an elf walking around town. Neither did Rick for the same reasons. However, you did change into your normal shoes and put on your jacket before heading out the employee entrance to leave.

As you both walked across the parking lot together, Uncle Rick invited you to a Christmas party he was throwing that evening. Since neither of you spoke much to the rest of the family, your parents included, Rick had invited his chosen family and a few clients that had become close, genuine friends to spend the holiday eve with. But the weeks of holiday customer service work had finally taken their toll on you though, and you were mentally worn out. Uncle Rick more than understood, embraced you in a bear hug, then gave you an early Christmas present; One ounce of Lilac Diesel, your favorite strain.

That would pair very well with the evening of movie rentals and Chinese takeout you had planned.

Traffic was pretty heavy thanks to last minute shoppers, but you managed to reach the video store well before closing.

“Welcome to Family Vid- hey, Y/N!”

Since you preferred to spend most of your evenings at home, you tended to stop by the video store multiple times a week. This had led to a friendship with the evening clerks, Robin and Steve. You knew them fairly well by this point, and you stopped at the counter to talk with them for a while before you went wandering the aisles. It didn’t take you long to pick out what you wanted, choosing the same movies you watched every year around Christmas.

After Robin rang you out, you continued talking to them as you walked back to the door, pausing at the door to finish your conversation, your free hand resting on the handle.

Since you were looking over at your two friends rather than outside, you didn’t see a van pulling into the parking lot, nor did you see the curly haired man in a leather jacket hop out of it. He didn’t see you either as he walked up to the video store, busy double checking to make sure that he’d remembered to rewind the tapes before bringing them back

Right as the man was reaching for the door handle, you pushed the door open to leave.

BAM

Your head whirled around to the door at the sudden impact, eyes widening as you finally saw the man. He staggered backwards a step, a large red welt in the middle of his forehead from the collision with the door. His deep brown eyes crossed as he teetered sideways, then they rolled back into his head, and he hit the ground just a second later.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed in alarm, quickly rushing outside.

Behind you, an alarmed Steve started to head around the counter to go help but was stopped when Robin grabbed his arm.

“Hang back a minute,” Robin told him when he looked at her quizzically. “I have a feeling about this one.”

Outside, you rushed over to the groaning figure sprawled out on the ground, who was now rubbing his forehead with one ring bespoke hand.

“I am so, so sorry!” you said, dropping your movies to the sidewalk next to the man as you bent down over him. “I didn’t see you there!”

Grabbing the man’s arm, you helped him sit up, then got around behind him so you could wrap your arms around his chest to pull him to his feet.

“You probably - owwww,” the man said, wincing as he straightened into a standing position, both of you sliding some on the slushy sidewalk. “You probably shouldn’t move someone that just had a bad blow to the head.”

Once he was steady, you let him go, then began dusting off the back of his denim vest and the sleeves of his jacket.

“Probably not,” you said, fluffing his hair to free any snow it picked up from the sidewalk. “But then you would’ve just gotten wet and cold.”

“That’s actually a-“ he started to say, his words suddenly cutting off as you stepped around him and he saw you for the first time. “…good point.”

As your gaze met his, you found your eyes widening as a tingle spread across the back of your neck and then quickly shot down the length of your spine.

ZING

At various points throughout your life, you had beard about the zing. Usually, it was from people who were often severely unreliable about such matters. Your mother told you all about it when you were little, but your parents did not have a relationship that any sane person would desire. Your friends all told you about it in high school, but the zings they felt never seemed to last.

From your understanding, the zing is what was supposed to happen when you met your true love, or your soul mate, depending on which wording you wanted to use. The whole concept just sounded highly suspect to you.

Until now.

Neither of you spoke as you stood there staring into each other’s eyes. You hadn’t noticed it, but your jaw had gone slack in a mirror image of his.

Inside the video store, both Steve and Robin had come over to the door and were watching you two through the glass.

The man was the first to snap out of whatever trance the two of you found yourselves in, and his mouth snapped shut.

“Uh,” he finally said, as he started rubbing the back of his head. “I must have a concussion. Now I’m seeing elves.”

A sudden fit of giggles escaped from your lips before you could clamp your mouth shut. You could feel your cheeks warming and hoped the man would assume it was from the chilly December air.

“Yes, but not a real one,” you said, smiling. “I work down at the mall in their Christmas Village.”

The look of confusion on the man’s face was replaced by one of understanding and he laughed.

“Now that makes way more sense,” he said, then returned your smile.

The tingling sensation ran down your spine from the back of your neck, the blush on your cheeks inexplicably coming back.

You both cleared your throats and quickly looked away from each other at the exact same moment, dropping your gaze down to the sidewalk. That was when you noticed three video tapes you didn’t recognize scattered among your own dropped selections. You bent down, picking up those up from the sidewalk.

When you stood upright, you met his wide-eyed gaze again as you offered him the tapes.

“I think these are yours,” you said, smiling at him.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, blinking a few times in surprise, then smiled. “You know, I think you had a few yourself, too.”

“Yeah, I-“ you started to say as you bent down to pick up your movies.

However, the man started to bend over at the same time you did, which resulted in the two of you clunking your foreheads together.

“Ow,” you both said in unison.

You started giggling again, not even bothering to stop yourself this time as you rubbed your forehead. The man blinked a few times and shook his head as if to clear it, then grinned sheepishly.

“Alright, you wait here, I’ll go down, okay?” he said.

“Okay,” you said through a new fit of giggles.

He winked at you, then bent over to gather up your movies. You watched him with a smile on your face and a warmth in your heart. There was definitely something charming about this guy.

Once he had your movies in hand, he stood upright to hand them to you. Now that you had yourself more under control, you met his gaze easily.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at him warmly.

“No problem,” he said, returning your smile.

A few more seconds passed in silence as the two of you stared at each other again.

What on earth was happening right now?

“Well, um,” you said, suddenly having trouble speaking as you felt your heart beating in your throat. “I-I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll get out of your hair now. You have a Merry Christmas!”

“Hmm?” the man said, then blinked. “Oh! Yeah! You have a Merry Christmas too!”

You smiled at him one last time and then, despite a sudden pang you felt in your chest, turned away to head for your car.

Behind you, Eddie watched you walk away for a moment before looking down at the movies in his hand. He sighed softly and shoot his head before turning to finally go into Family Video.

However, right as he laid his hand on the handle to pull the door open, he heard the distinctive sound of the lock twisting into place.

He looked up with a confused expression, meeting the stares of Steve and Robin, both of whom had matching expressions of abject horror on their faces.

“Go after them, ya dingus!” Robin shouted.

“Don’t let them get away!” Steve shouted.

Eddie wheeled around and quickly looked for you.

Luckily, you hadn’t gotten very far. You were barely halfway to the only other vehicle in the parking lot aside from Steve’s and his.

A grin lit up Eddie’s face and he opened his mouth, preparing to call out to you, then he suddenly panicked when he realized he didn’t know your name.

“Hey, you!” he hollered instead, then grimaced at how that sounded.

You weren’t bothered by it though, just surprised. Turning back to him with curiosity, your heart began hammering in your chest as your eyes landed on him.

The man stared at you for a moment before speaking.

“Do you like Christmas parties?” he asked, then, unbeknownst to you, pointed off in the direction of Reefer Rick’s house. “If so, I know of one that’s going on right now, if you wanted to go.”

A warm feeling stirred in your chest at his words. But as, tempting as it was, you just didn’t have the spoons for a party.

“Not really,” you said with a soft smile, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed.

Instead of disappointed though, the man seemed relieved.

“Me neither,” he said, laughing softly. “I can’t say I’m really into the Christmas spirit this year.”

Now it was your turn to laugh.

“Yeah, me neither,” you said, smiling.

Then the two of you gazed quietly at each other again, as if neither of you wanted to look away. That same tingling from earlier crept across your neck again. Now you had a little voice in the back of your head screaming at you to talk to him.

“Do you know of Canton’s?” you asked, deciding not to doubt your gut.

“The Chinese place over off MacArthur?” he asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Hell yeah! They have the best egg rolls in Hawkins!”

“They really do,” you agreed, then smiled. “I was going to get some takeout then go home, but I wouldn’t mind sitting down for a while if I had some company. If you’re not doing anything, would you like to join me?”

The man’s face lit up as bright as the giant Christmas tree downtown.

“I’d love to!” he exclaimed, a huge smile on his face.

Now your whole body was tingling, his words lighting you up from the inside out with excitement.

“Great!” you said, a big grin on your own face. “Want to meet me there when you’re done? I can head on over and get us a table.”

“Yeah, yeah!” the man said, nodding rapidly, which made his hair fly around his head. “That sounds good!”

“Great!” you said again, your smile even bigger now.

“Great!” the man repeated, grinning.

You turned back towards the parking lot, a bounce in your step as you made your way over and got in.

Behind you, the door of Family Video flew open, and Eddie was rushed by both Steve and Robin. Robin snatched the movies out of his hands and took them inside to check them in, while Steve began fixing Eddie’s hair and clothes, as if trying to make him more presentable.

When he was done, Steve took a step back and gave his friend a quick once over.

“Eh, good enough,” he said with a shrug.

Before Eddie could protest, Steve grabbed him by the arms and spun him around before giving him a sound shove towards the parking lot.

After you were buckled in and got your car started, you looked out your window just in time to see the man jogging back over to his van. You couldn’t help but giggle as you wondered what had come over you. This was definitely a new feeling, though one you weren’t complaining about.

It wasn’t until you were already halfway to the restaurant when you were hit with a realization.

You had no idea what his name was.

#eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader fluff

135 notes · View notes

theliterarywolf · 8 months

Note

The recent Helluva Boss discourse with Brandon taking a picture at a con with a kid fan made me think about minors in adult media fandoms. It's really annoying how they react to said adult content, both canon and fan content. However, content creators can't prevent them from accessing it as some will sneak past the 18+ sign or their parents allow it. The only thing the creators and the adults in the fandom can do is block them online or ask for an ID irl. Yet I don't know what we can do besides gatekeep them from the online fandom. It does suck to be a fan of adult media like Helluva, Danganronpa, or even South Park but all the discourse is caused by minors who shouldn't be interacting with the online fandom in the first place.

To be fair, a lot of 'permanently-13-years-old' adults are behind a good amount of the current state of discourse too.

But, back to your main point, I will point back to comments I have made in the past:

When I was younger and engaged with 18+ content or, hell, media made from foreign creators/for foreign audiences, I minded my fucking paces because I knew that I either wasn't supposed to be there (for the prior) and was a guest (for the latter).

The unfortunate thing with the current state of the internet, particularly the Western sphere of influence, is that people feel entitled to everything that makes it to the internet. Even if said content isn't made for them or for people like them.

So this, unfortunately, leads into minors trying to brute-force their way into fandoms and communities that aren't meant for them and those same minors trying to police everyone else when they feel uncomfortable or trying to make everyone who was existing in that space out to be a predator. When, in reality, most of those spaces prohibit minors in order to protect minors from being exploited and preyed upon.

And that's just in matters of fandom such as shipping, Discord groups, etc. When it's minors flocking to things like Hellaverse content, Fear and Hunger, South Park, Danganronpa, whathaveyou, the alarm bells of 'you should not be here, you are not mentally mature enough to engage with this content or to recognize predatory behavior online' are blaring out.

But most of these minors treat the warning signals like a phone on vibrate.

So, in that regard, things are jolly well fucked and probably aren't going to even out for a long while. And, since someone reading this will probably say 'Um, she didn't address the 'Brandon Rogers taking a picture with a child fan' element: children should not be watching Hellaverse content. However, at this point, what can we even do?

None of these kids' parents are monitoring what their children engage with online. If they did, I am certain that Skibidi Toilet would not be anywhere near as popular as it is.

35 notes · View notes

tiredflowercrown · 4 months

Text

good for you (does it cross your mind to be slightly sorry?)

More people deserve to be angry, and rightfully so at that. Sooo, here yall go!

A deal had finally been struck. After years of negotiations, they finally had a way to bring every VK off the Isle. Not just VKs as well, they had managed to get non-magical villains off as well. It wasn’t justice. Not yet. But it was reparations.

Now, they just had to deal with the little details. Deals were struck between gangs. Temporary alliances were made. Secrets were kept. Children were hidden. Everything was being prepared to leave. They just needed a way.

The easiest of which was the pirate ships, however that came with the problem of the Jolly Roger. Both Harriet and Uma agreed that VKs shouldn’t be on the boat and most Villains also couldn’t be on it either due to safety concerns, but they needed the room. That wasn’t even addressing the small issue of the Lost Revenge not exactly being the most seaworthy ship. Luckily, the Shattered Hope had agreed to tow the Lost Revenge, at least to the barrier where an Auradon ship could then take over towing until they made port.

“Hey! Watch the rigging!”

The deck was filled with hustle and bustle. Everyone rushed around to prepare the ship, both for the voyage and for the mass of people that would be on board. Good spirits were in abundance, well mostly in abundance.

Uma went to grab a list of supplies from her cabin, knowing Gil’s tendencies of forgetfulness and his need for direct instructions. Quickly grabbing the list from her desk she turns to find two figures in the doorway. Jonas and Desiree. Arms crossed and blocking any exit for escape.

Her cousin's faces were stony. Despite Jonas’s nonchalant lean on the wall and Desiree leaning in the doorway, she knew a fight was coming. Uma had seen the two through a lot, but she had never seen them this serious.

“Uma, so glad we could catch you. I think we need to have a little talk.”

His cheerful tone matched with his glare mean she had fucked up. Big time.

“Oh yes, I agree. Hey Uma, have you ever thought about how six months is kinda a long period of time.”

“Especially over winter. There’s just something about the cold that makes time seem even longer.”

Her blood ran cold. Most of the crew had been content or even excited when she had returned with supplies and news of minor freedoms. No one had dared to bring up the elephant in the room of her disappearance. Until now it seemed.

“It had to be done. The dragon’s weren’t fighting for us, someone had to.” She stated, almost a plea in her voice.

“That doesn’t make up for it. We had survived this long. We would have kept going as always.” Jonas snarled, pushing off the wall and growing closer to her.

“It was November. The first freeze had already happened. Did that mean nothing? Did we mean nothing?”

Desiree’s accusations cut deep. They had been the very same things that haunted Uma when she left. But it was worth it. It had to be worth it

“I had faith in your and Harry’s abilities. You said it yourself, you’ve survived this long.”

“Oh so that makes it okay? You had faith that your cousins, who you had never put in positions of power, and the boys who love you so much that they would stop breathing if you asked them to, would be able to care for an entire crew! Harry shut down when he realized you had left! You think Harriet is an alcoholic, you should’ve seen Harry!” Desiree screamed, growing closer to Uma. Only Jonas’s hand on her arm seemed to calm her.

“You abandoned us. There are no other words for it. You abandoned us in what became the harshest winter the Isle has seen yet. You left. Yes, for noble reasons, but we are- we were your crew. Shouldn’t we have come first? As both crew and as family?” His words took a pleading tone, eyes searching for an ounce of regret in her face.

“I-”

“What’s going on here?” Harry’s voice called out. Appearing outside her door, staring at the two who stood in front of her.

“We were just leaving, weren’t we Desiree?” Jonas said, tightening his grip on his sister and beginning to pull her away.

“Just remember dear cousin. Just because they forgive you doesn’t mean we do. And we all won’t forget what happened. Not anytime soon.” Desiree spit out before leaving, shoving Jonas off her in the process.

Uma took a shaky breath, steading herself. Harry moved forward and looked over her, checking for any marks or harm that they could have laid upon her.

“What did they do? I’ll kill them. How dare they?”

“It’s okay, Harry. It’s nothing I didn’t deserve.” She comforted him.

“No. No one gets to talk to you that way. I’ll-”

“Harry. It. Is. Fine.” She grabbed his hands, running her thumb over his knuckles, “It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

His eyes softened.

“If you say so.”

#disney descendants #uma descendants #Desiree descendants #desiree marinos #jonas descendants #jonas marinos #harry hook #uma x harry

16 notes · View notes

the-house-of-auditore-frye · 1 year

Text

Scrooge x FortuneTeller!reader headcanons

So I was originally going to just put this on my concept list but my friend @redlotus98 encouraged me to give writing a go so here it is! (Sorry, not proof read)

Also while, there is no explicit description of the reader, it is slightly implied POC!reader. By the way, I feel I should mention that I don't know how to read fortunes so please forgive me if you do know, and I've written something wrong!

Oh and it's not good. I can't write. Don't judge.😘

Let's begin!

So, you came to London to make a new life for yourself. Your parents back home were very worried about what you would do but you had a plan: fortune telling! On your mother's side, you had learnt the art of it and were prepared to make it your trade!

When you got to London, you were lucky to become friends with a woman called Hela Huffman. She understood the struggle of being so far away from home and offered to take care of you with her husband, Harry. The couple became very fond of you and helped spread word of your business. And soon, your business took off!

Now one particular man was not impressed with your fortune telling: Ebenezer Scrooge. Scrooge had tried everything he could think of to get rid of you - the beautifully exotic fortune teller whom he couldn't get out of his mind all the time! He even tried calling the police on you but that didn't go very far when you predicted the officer was due for a promotion. The worst part was that you had a reputation of always getting fortunes right so he couldn't call you a fraud. You would have picked a fight with Scrooge if he weren't so handsome...

One day, when you had made a quite a bit of extra money, you had been lucky to see Scrooge walking past so you called out to him "MR SCROOGE, CARE TO TRY YOUR LUCK WITH LADY FORTUNE?!" Scrooge scoffed but before he had the chance to reject you, you had an idea: "TELL YOU WHAT MR SCROOGE! I MADE A BIT OF EXTRA COIN TODAY SO HOW ABOUT A DEAL: I WILL GIVE YOU ONE GOLD SOVEREIGN... if you let me tell your fortune..." The crowd that formed around you started to gasp and say "ooooh"

Never saying no to money, Scrooge begrudgingly agreed. When you asked for his pocket watch as an object to read, Scrooge refuses. However, Beryl - your ever helpful assistant- managed to nick his watch to hand it to you. You held it in your hands with eyes closed and started to list off what you saw "Hmmm... I see three singing children, usually meaning a new beginning of sorts and major change in your perception of life... looks like you will turn over a new leaf..." this caused the surrounding crowd to start laughing and Scrooge to growl even more. "The first child looks like a young girl holding a candle stick, the second is a jolly looking boy in a green coat and the third child... is hiding in the shadows. Let me know how your fortune treats you, Mr Scrooge..." you said to him as you placed the pocketwatch in his hand. Luckily, everyone was so distracted by the bizarre prediction that nobody noticed your hands lingering in Scrooge's... After an awkward pause, Scrooge ran off, not wanting to endure this embarrassment any longer.

But a funny thing happened the next night, Scrooge was visited by three ghosts... And the following morning, as he rejoiced for the life he had, he realised that you were right about his fortune and decided to pay you a visit...

Promptly, he found you and started to cheer "Ah my dear, there you are! I feel like a new man on this glorious morning!" You laughed seeing Ebenezer so happy like that, "haha I am glad you are pleased with your fortune Mr Scrooge!" "My dear, please call me Ebenezer! And while I have you here, I was wondering if you would be willing to give me another fortune?" He handed you a small pouch containing what you suspected to be quite a sum of money...

Curious to see his future, you sat him down in front of you and asked for his pocket watch. Once again, you held it but saw something very different...

"Alright... I see you in an arm chair infront of a fire place... with three young girls, the oldest only four years and one is a bab- OH THEY HAVE DAISIES IN THEIR HAIR! THEY ARE YOUR DAUGHTERS! Congratulations! And that is a mighty fine wedding ring on your finger!" Beryl, who was stood next to Scrooge, nudged him with a wink before you continued:

"How sweet... OH and there is Mrs Scrooge! I can't see her face though... wait she is about to turn around! Ready to find out who your future wife is? It is-" Suddenly you stop. You opened your eyes to see everyone, most notably Ebenezer, staring at you with expectation. "Well, my dear... do you know who she is?" After finally snapping out of your frozen trance, you hurried to collect your things "NO, I DO NOT! MY APOLOGISES EBENEZER - GOODBYE" You ran off, leaving everyone lost.

Nobody saw you the next day and Ebenezer started to get very concerned. Knowing you and Beryl are close, he asks the sweet street urchin if she knew why you reacted so suddenly. Beryl admitted that while she didn't know for sure, she had a guess as to why you freaked out and agreed to bring you to Ebenezer's home.

Not two hours later, you stepped into Ebenezer's living room where he immediately started to apologise: "My dear, I am extremely apologetic if I made you feel uncomfortable with my fort-" but you cut him off "No, it was not you. I just... knowing my feelings are unrequited, I did not know how I could face you!" "What do you mean, my dear? What fee-" "IT WAS ME! IN YOUR FUTURE! I AM YOUR FUTURE WIFE! And I know you do not return my lo-" Ebenezer cut you off with a very gentle and slow kiss. "My dear... I have always cared for you. Perhaps in ways I was not aware of but I do return your feelings of love. You are my stroke of good fortune... now about our future wedding and children..."

#scrooge 2022 x reader #ebenezer scrooge x reader #scrooge x reader #scrooge #ebenezer scrooge #netflix scrooge scrooge #netflix scrooge 2022 #scrooge a christmas carol #Netflix Scrooge x reader

92 notes · View notes

donteattheappleshook · 11 months

Text

Not Broken At All Chapter 15/?

Summary:

A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

CONTENT WARNING! This has the hunt which includes lost boys (kids) being killed and while it's brief, it's a dark scene. There's also some gore afterwards and violence (again against lost boys) referenced off-screen. If you're at all uncomfortable you can DM me and I can let you know which sections to avoid. I had a few people review it and tell me it's "dark but not too dark" but better safe than sorry. And hey, there’s also smut to make up for it.

Thank you thank you thank you thank you always @the-darkdragonfly and @elizabeethan for your help with this feral fic 😘 and thank you @kmomof4 for being a fantastic beta for this chapter! 💕💕

*****

Part 15

She can still feel the burn of his kiss - her kiss - on her lips when the moon hangs high above the Jolly. She’s been watching it, tracking its slow climb across the sky since she came out of the forest to find Will waiting on the shore - Wendy having taken the dinghy and leaving them stranded. Emma was almost relieved that she wasn’t there, that she didn’t have to explain why she was standing there alone, why Killian wasn’t with her. No matter how angry Wendy was at her Captain, she would have noticed. Will, on the other hand, was too fixated on the sea, on the ship rocking rhythmically against the waves to notice. But the way he watched it, as though it were miles away and not metres, betrayed what the longing in his eyes was really for.

She’d suggested they swim, the ship not far and the water most likely clear of vindictive sirens. Mostly she’d just wanted to get that look off of his face, to stop feeling the guilt that accompanied it. They’re risking their lives for you, Swan, all of us are - for you and for your son. He didn’t put up an argument. Will only shrugged dismissively, looking back out to the ship and wading into the sea.

It’s been hours since then, hours of waiting and staring out at the dark water, searching for any movement in the dimly lit night. She can feel the cold breeze seeping through her thin shirt, chilling her skin and sending a tremor through her bones. But she can’t go below deck, can’t leave her spot by the railing. Not until she sees some sign, any sign that she didn’t just send him to his death to protect Henry. Henry, who's still out there, who’s waiting for her to come get him, who may already hear the Lost Boys’ cries.

It’s late, the moon already growing dimmer against the lightening sky. Will had come up some time ago, only sparing her a passing look before finding a spot far enough away that they wouldn’t feel the need to speak. He’d gone straight below deck once they’d climbed out of the water, his small plea of ‘Wen, please’ carrying over to her in the silence. The nights are always so quiet here, the sea soundless against the ship, the wind not stirring in the trees. It’s wrong, and unnatural, this island not a place rooted in reality, the piercing wails of the children in the jungle starker against the silence, echoing over the sea.

Emma casts a glance over at Will, leaning over the railing, looking out at the water rather than the beach, though she imagines he’s not really looking at anything at all, and wonders if he can hear them. He’s never said. Only that Wendy did. And now Killian is out there risking his life to make it up to her, to atone for the daughter he left behind by making sure she doesn’t lose the man who stayed by her side. Because of her. Because she begged Will to go, begged anyone to go and do what she couldn’t.

Daylight begins its slow crawl over the night sky and still there’s no sign of Hook, no sign of Wendy since the forest. She doesn’t hear Will cross the deck until his arms fold over the railing beside hers, his shoulders tense as he leans heavily on them, his question leaving him in a heavy breath.

“He went, didn’t he?”

Emma nods, fingers pressing into the soft wood beneath them. But he’s not looking at her so she lets out a small ‘yeah’ and watches his jaw clench, teeth pressed together as anger and relief war on his face.

“Bastard.”

“How far is the camp?”

Will gives a small shrug. “It moves. But it can be found if you know what to look for.” When she doesn’t answer he finally turns his head, just a fraction and she feels his gaze from the corner of her eye as she goes back to watching the beach. “He’ll be back.”

“How do you know?”

“The man’s bloody impossible to kill. Trust me,” he insists. “I’ve tried.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He sighs when she doesn’t answer. “Pan doesn’t want him dead. He never has. He enjoys torturing him too much.”

“What if he changes his mind?” Especially if he catches him trying to meddle in whatever plan he has for Henry.

“He could,” Will acknowledges. “But he expects Hook to try and stop him. It’s all part of the game.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“Everything is a game to him. Sometimes… I used to wonder if he even knew what was real and what wasn’t. I didn’t. Not until…” The little girl he brought to Wendy. “He’s a child. Everything, this whole island, his hunts and his raids and his conquests, it’s all make believe, one big, never ending game.”

Emma doesn't know which is scarier, the thought that Pan is a monster that murders and maims and torments without remorse, or that his acts of cruelty can be carried out without care, without any true understanding of consequence - for fun. How many times as a child did she play cops and robbers? How many times did she and the other children in homes sword fight with sticks and cardboard tubes, laughing while they ‘killed’ one another. Because it was all just make believe.

Her thoughts are cut off by a slow roar of something in the trees, the dull, faraway sound carrying over the water. Will looks out at the sky, suddenly alert and she follows his gaze, the sun just breaking over the horizon. “It’s starting.”

It’s shouting, she realizes, a low rumble of a battle cry making its way towards the beach. “The hunt?”

“Aye.” The voice comes from behind them, Wendy having finally emerged from her cabin, staring out towards the shore. There’s a moment where she takes in Will standing beside her, frown pulling at her brow before relief softens it. But her gaze snaps back to the beach, eyes wide, brow marred again. “Where’s Killian?” The question is sharp, an order. But neither answer. She knows. Wendy rushes to the rail, looking frantically out over the water as though she could see him through the jungle. “Bastard.”

It takes her a moment to school her features, to regain control of herself, hands still clenched into fists against the edge of the Jolly. But once she does, she slips back into the role of the fierce pirate captain Emma met that first night - the one that ended a deathmatch with a single word. “Ready the crew” she tells Will. “Be sure they’re prepared to take on the wounded. And no one,” she adds, tone commanding and almost frightening, “no one is to leave the ship. Is that understood?” The question is directed at her.

“I-”

“If you go on that beach, you’re signing your death warrant. You’re to stay below deck,” she orders. “Understood?”

“I’m not staying below deck if Henry comes out of that jungle,” Emma argues.

“Killian is taking care of Henry. If Pan sees you you’ll be putting both of them at risk. You’ll stay below deck, Emma,” she repeats. “That’s an order.”

“Let me help. I can -”

Before she can finish, she’s being lifted off her feet, a small nod from Wendy to Will, some unspoken command and suddenly she’s tossed over his shoulder and letting out a cry of protest as she’s carried below deck.

“What the- Put me down!” she snaps, but Will and his stupid, freakish strength holds her steady, the arm across the back of her thighs vice-like.

“I swear to god, you better not lick me again while you’re back there,” he warns.

She gives a hard elbow to his ribs in retaliation, the small grunt he lets out immensely satisfying before she’s being dropped on her ass, the damp room one she doesn’t recognize, and a lock clicks into place. It takes her a second to register where she is.

“You’re throwing me in the fucking brig?” she demands, fingers wrapping around the solid iron bars. “You can’t be serious.”

“You're part of this crew. You don't follow orders, this is what happens,” Wendy tells her before heading back towards the deck. “You’ll be let out when it’s over.”

“Maybe,” Will adds with a mirthful smirk that makes her wish he was close enough to hit again. But the door slams shut between them and she’s left alone with her outrage.

The shouting is getting louder now, the sun climbing quickly - too quickly - into the sky. She can distinguish words now, cries of ‘get them’ breaking through the hollering and the cheering… and the screams. The first one she hears- sudden and sharp and cut off in an instant- sends her heart dropping into her stomach. She hardly has time to let the dread take over before another takes its place, this one worse, drawn out, fading into a whimper, small and heartbreaking and horrible. It’s followed by cries of victory.

Reaching for the bars on the small window of her cell she hoists herself up onto the small bench, just able to look out if she holds her weight up, standing on barely touching tiptoes. She wishes she hadn’t. The beach is a bloodbath, bodies strewn out across the sand, dead, or soon to be. They’re too far for her to recognize any, but they’re all so small, narrow shoulders and lanky limbs. Any one of those bodies could be Henry. Every single one is a child.

Emma nearly falls off the bench, barely managing to land on her feet as she doubles over, emptying her stomach on the floor of her cell. It doesn’t stop, the chaos on the beach echoing in the small room, screams, cheers of triumph, the slice of metal and the batter of arrows falling over one another until they all fade into the endless din of battle.

She can’t bring herself to look again, sitting with her back to the horror, hands over her ears as she tries to drown it all out, stuck and helpless to do anything about it. It’s not Henry. Henry’s not there. She needs to believe that Killian got to him in time, that he stopped him from being a part of it. Those aren’t his cries of pain she’s hearing. That’s not him celebrating. Henry’s not there. She repeats it, again and again, curled on the floor, trying to block out the horror. They were right. She wouldn't have been able to stay below deck- either above or below. She wouldn’t have been able to stay off the beach.

It goes on for ages, growing in volume, the Lost Boys riled up more with every fallen victim. She could almost believe they were playing, were it not for the crying, the pleas for mercy. Then, almost as quickly as it started, the sounds begin to quiet. She hears a flurry of footsteps thundering onto the deck above her head, hears the muffled shout of Wendy ordering her crew to aid the survivors.

The mayhem on the beach finally settles, the slashing of swords and the cries dropping one by one until there’s silence. And then there are only hoots and hollers echoing across the shore - a celebration. Someone is congratulating them. She doesn’t have to guess who it is. She’ll recognize that twisted, childlike voice for the rest of her life.

It’s over. It has to be. Please let it be over. There’s no more clash of swords, no more wails of pain and death and she can almost breathe again until she hears it. A single, sobbing whimper from the shore, a cry of “mama” that burrows itself deep, echoing through her. There’s another. And another. And it’s the worst sound she’s ever heard, worse than the Lost Boys at night - children crying for their mothers.

She’s on her feet before she can think, yanking at the goddamn padlock on her door, clawing at it and shouting with rage when it doesn’t give. She doesn’t have anything to pick it with - no tools, no pins, not even a goddamn pen to break apart. Fucking pirates knowing better than to leave anything within reach that could help her break out.

She pulls the heavy leather boot from her foot, the heel solid and adorned with metal. It’s flimsy and awkward but it’s all she’s got and she reaches, arm scrapped raw by the stripped bars as she tries to get any force behind the blow. Reaching for the padlock, the angle awkward, and hitting it again and again, she curses when she hits it hard enough to knock the boot out of her hand, fingers aching where they still connect with the iron.

But she doesn’t stop, not so long as she can hear the kids crying from the shore. She may not be their mother but she’s a mother and she’s getting to that fucking beach. She yanks off her other boot, trying again, hanging on so tightly this time that her knuckles go white. Emma’s not sure how long she tries, how many times she brings the heel down on the lock, her skin damp with sweat, her shirt bloodied where the bars scratched her.

“Come on you stupid son of a bitch.” She’s tired, her arm aching, fingers bruised, but there’s a fury in her, a rage that builds until it feels like it will burst out of her. And then it does. She smashes the lock again, a spark of light flashing when it makes contact, bright enough that she has to shut her eyes. But when she opens them, the lock is on the ground, broken in two.

The cell swings open easily as she runs for the deck, yanking the door of the brig open only to crash into a figure on the other side. Fingers and metal wrap around her arms as she tries to push past him, shouting obscenities and shoving at him. But he doesn’t move, his grip tightening until she hisses, flinching, skin scratched raw beneath his hand and he lets go.

“Swan.” The name is what snaps her out of her panic. Her name. The one only he calls her - the one he promised not to let her forget. She looks up at him, finally realizing that it’s him, that he’s there and alive. The blue of his eyes, sad and anxious, shines even in the dim light of the room. “It’s over.”

She hears it then, the absence. There’s no more noise, no more screaming, no crying, the awfulness faded to nothing, the only sound the creaking of footsteps above them and her own ragged breathing. Her hands slide over his chest, pulling back enough to look for any sign he’s been hurt, that he didn’t come back in one piece. She searches his face, remembering the way she’d first found him, battered and bleeding, but those wounds are long healed, no new ones in their place and she sighs gratefully.

“Henry?”

“He’s fine. He wasn’t there. He’s safe.”

She nearly gives into the sobs that are trying to spill out of her, too full of anguish and fear and relief to keep them from overflowing. But her hands find the sides of his face, rising on her toes to capture his mouth with hers. She’s cried enough today - cried enough every day since she got to this stupid island, since she lost Henry to it. She doesn’t want to cry anymore. Her tears serve no purpose. They won’t keep Henry safe - but Killian did. Killian kept him safe.

He lets her kiss him, lets her slide her fingers into his hair, lets her seek his tongue with her own and keep him there with a death grip on his collar. But when she presses herself closer to him, seeking more of his heat to warm her frozen skin, more of him to fill the ache growing inside of her, he pulls back. He watches her carefully, searching for something, maybe remnants of the wine or that the events of the last hour haven’t completely destroyed her.

But Emma sees it then, the same exhaustion she feels darkening his eyes, pulling at the lines of his brow. The mask of resilience and unflinching coolness in the face of everything that’s been thrown at them slips, and he lets her see the suffering she knows is reflected back at him. She doesn’t know how long he’s been on the ship, how much of the massacre he had to watch before he came to find her - how many times he’s had to watch it before, just as powerless as she’d been to stop it.

She opens her mouth to say something, to ask him those very questions, but his lips crash down over hers before she can get the words out. The force of it sends her stumbling back and he follows, kiss hard and demanding, the door slamming as he kicks it shut behind him, and he leads them both across the room until her back collides with the bars of the cell, knocking the wind out of her. He swallows the sound she makes, tongue sliding over her lip in apology before pushing its way into her mouth to taste whatever he can reach, whatever he can take.

He kisses her with the same desperation she feels - for all of this to be finished, for the horrible feeling and memory that’s sunk its teeth in to be drowned out. She understands. She doesn’t want to talk either. This day - the last hour alone - all she wants is to forget it. Just for a little while she wants to forget every wretched thing about Neverland and lose herself in the one person who’s helped her survive it.

Emma shoves at the lapels of his coat, pushing it over his shoulders and he lets it fall to the floor with a heavy sound. His lips find her neck as she reaches for his vest, fingers fumbling on the buttons when he works a mark into her collarbone and tugs her hair loose from its messy knot. Far more adept, even with only one hand, her borrowed vest is opened and tossed unceremoniously aside before she’s managed to undo all his fastenings, Killian pulling her shirt over her head almost frantically.

She cries out when his mouth closes over her breast, hot and wet, tongue rolling over the hardened peak while his hand finds the other and he turns her into a panting, whimpering mess just like he’d promised to in the fae woods. When she hisses out a warning ‘Killian’, his lips start a path down the length of her stomach, dropping to his knees, shucking his vest and shirt.

The look he tosses up at her, checking before his hook tugs at the laces of her stupid, inconvenient pants, sends heat burning in her stomach and wetness pooling between her thighs as he yanks the heavy fabric down her hips. Desperate, wrecked, the blue of his eyes nearly eclipsed by the black, heavy-lidded and full of shameless want and dirty promises.

“Fuck.” Her hands find purchase in his hair, stumbling back, hardly stepped out of the leather before his mouth is on her, hooking a leg over his shoulder and pressing her against the bars once more. The rough iron scrapes at the bare skin of her back, but she doesn’t care, not with the way he’s sucking at her clit, tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves and growling into her skin when she bucks into his mouth.

He presses his brace across her hips, holding her still as he eats into her, fucking her with his tongue and nothing about today matters anymore. Nothing feels real apart from his mouth between her thighs, the scrape of his jaw rough against sensitive skin. She whines at the push of his fingers inside of her, pleasure tightening in her stomach, the anticipation building in every muscle, the promise of release and fucking ecstasy just out of reach.

“Please.” The word escapes on a whimper, wanton and desperate, and then he’s moaning against her, teeth scraping sharply against her clit, making her cry out and her hands fist harshly in his hair when he pulls it into his mouth, fingers curling in time with the pulse of his tongue against her, his lips around her, and then she’s shattering.

She barely manages to catch her cry of release between her teeth as her whole body shudders and it escapes as a muffled sob in the dark room. But Killian doesn’t relent, egged on by her coming apart on his tongue, working her frantically, drawing out the aftershocks until they start to build to a new height altogether. She’s about to fall again, so close to the edge, but she pushes at his shoulders.

“Wait.” He only resists for a second, eyes dark with hunger when he looks up at her, but it’s the small hint of desperation, the unbridled abandon emanating from him that makes her remember that he needs this just as much as she does. That he’s been through as much as she has. And it’s not the first time for him. She can’t imagine living through today again and again for centuries. It’s no wonder he found solace wherever he could and with whoever he could in this horrible place. She’s been living a nightmare for a week. He’s been living it for lifetimes.

Emma joins him on her knees, not caring about the dirt and the damp as she pulls him to her, mouth finding his easily. The way their lips move against each other is familiar now, but no less heated as his arms come around her waist, pressing heated skin to heated skin, hand snaking up the length of her back to tangle in her hair, gathering it at the nape of her neck.

She explores the length of his arms with careful fingers, muscles hard under her hands from years at sea and endless fighting. She feels the rise and fall of scars across his skin before dragging her nails down his shoulders, leaving her own mark and feeling the bite of his teeth against her lip. Her fingers move to his chest, sliding through the coarse hair and finding the evidence of years spent in bloodshed. The gasp he lets out when she rakes them over the flat of his stomach to his hips is choked and she ducks her head, lips leaving his to trail the length of his jaw, tongue sliding over the spot below his ear he can’t seem to leave alone.

“Emma…” It’s a plea and a warning and a question all in one as she pulls at his laces. The feel of him straining hard and hot beneath her palm only urges her on as her mouth explores the taut line of his neck, leaving a mark on his collarbone to match the one he gave her.

He hisses out a word that isn’t in English but she’s almost positive is a curse when she slides into his leathers, fingers wrapping around his cock and running her hand over the hard length in rough, purposeful strokes. She touches him the way he’d touched her, urgent and desperate and aware that they’re on stolen time, revelling in every sound and unconscious thrust of his hips she draws from him.

His grip on her hair becomes vice-like, tugging her head back enough that he can taste her neck again, mouth and tongue sloppy between the small growls and sharp breaths he lets out hot against her skin. The drag of cool metal over her nipple makes her falter in her rhythm. He does it again, circling the hardened peak with the sharp tip of his hook and she releases him altogether, desire burning impatient as she pushes him back to sit on his discarded coat.

Killian takes hold of her hips as she climbs into his lap, settling a knee on either side of him before taking his cock in hand again and sinking down over the length of him. His muttered ‘bloody hell’ reverberates through her as he holds still, straining as he gives her a moment to adjust to the size of him, the burn and the fullness that turn to heat and want, and she needs more.

When she rocks her hips over his, they both let out a groan at the drag of his cock- so fucking perfect inside of her. Emma braces her hands on his shoulders so she can move over him, desperate to find that toe-curling pleasure he gave her again.

His fingers dig into the curve of her ass, rolling and guiding them into a rhythm, hips rising to meet her every time she takes him in again, refusing to be a passive participant as she rides him towards their release. His hook and mouth are everywhere, touching and tasting, finding the places that make her tremble, bearing down relentlessly when the curl of his tongue or the scrape of his hook causes her to cry out and soon she’s right on the edge again, lips pressed hard together against the moans of encouragement and of his name that want to fall from them.

His hand releases her, letting her keep their pace, change it how she wants, and his fingers trail over her hip, ghosting over the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh. His thumb slides between them, finding where they’re joined with practiced ease and circling with every roll of her hips until she can’t keep quiet anymore, hands gripping madly at his back, teeth biting into his shoulder as she tries to muffle her cries.

He presses harder, circling faster, murmuring filth and praise into her ear and holy fuck she doesn’t think she’s ever been fucked so properly in her life - every inuendo and brazen conquest on the island entirely justified. There are no thoughts left apart from how badly she needs to come, all senses muted, drowned out by the overwhelming build, the delicious drive of his cock inside of her, thrusting harder, deeper.

His mouth nips at her ear, begging her to let him see her fall apart again, telling her how good she feels, how he wants to feel her shuddering around him, how he wants to come inside her. And then there’s nothing but ecstasy, nothing but fire and release as she comes apart at his hands.

She’s still shaking when he rolls her onto her back, braced on his hooked arm as the other slides under her knee, spreads her wider for him, fucking into her wildly, harder, deeper, chasing his release as fervently as she had hers. The grind of his hips, the scratch of his chest hair against her breasts sets off another wave of lust in her, begins another rapid climb as he takes her, using her however he wants, building on the high of her orgasm before it’s faded and sending her over the edge again.

The sound he lets out when he feels her coming once more, feels the dig of her nails in his back, is almost feral. Her name is a curse and a plea as he pounds into her until he goes rigid under her hands, pulling out and spilling himself hot on her stomach with a moan muffled against the crook of her neck.

There’s nothing but the sound of their breaths, heavy in the stillness of the room, the chaos of the deck far away above them as they lay still tangled in one another for a moment, drawing out the feeling of relief as long as they can, hiding from reality for just a little longer. Here in the dark with the weight of his body still over hers and the gentle hum of her skin, the heaviness of her limbs, it’s easy to pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

It's too soon when she feels him shift, the press of his lips to the hollow of her throat before he lifts his head, reaching for something in one of the many pockets of his coat they’ve sprawled out on. How he knows where anything is in the (she suspects) dozens of secret compartments that may or may not be magically hidden is beyond her, but he pulls out a handkerchief - dark like everything else he wears, but fine like everything else as well.

Tracing it gingerly over her stomach, he begins to clean the mess he made of her, erasing every trace of him from her skin. Emma takes it from him when he’s finished, sitting up to take care of the rest when she feels the brush of his fingers over her shoulder, tracing lines down her back with a furrowed brow and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“What?” she asks, voice raw and rough from exhaustion.

His knuckles ghost feather-light along her back again, her skin burning slightly under his touch. “You’re hurt.”

There’s a bit of guilt in his expression as she turns to try and look over her shoulder, to see what he sees, the marks probably left on her skin from the iron bars. “I’m fine,” Emma promises, but he’s tracing the cuts on her arm now, ones that are definitely not his doing. “Those are technically Will’s fault,” she tells him casually, still pissed at her friend for tossing her in here, and he raises a brow at her blasé shrug. “Just if you were looking for an excuse, is all. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to defend my honour or something.”

The corner of his mouth ticks up in amusement. “I think you’re plenty capable of defending your own honour, love,” he tells her, brushing a stray lock of hair back over her shoulder. She watches him fight a smirk out of the corner of her eye. “There’s a bottle in my coat,” he says then. “If you don’t mind.”

Emma looks down at the heavy leather she’s still sitting on, the Mary Poppins bag of coats, and raises a brow at him. “You’re kidding right?”

Shaking his head with an exasperated sigh - the one she’s come to consider her own - he reaches over her, digging into one of the infinite pockets and she tries not to let him see the way her breath catches, heat burning low and slow everywhere he’s nearly touching her.

She could lean forward, just a fraction, and press her lips to the spot behind his ear, see if he’d say her name again in that shaky, pleading way he had before. If she kissed him now would he press her into the floor again, drag his tongue over her skin and make her fall apart with mouth and hand and cock? Would he let her do the same to him, let her bring him over that edge with her mouth on him, while she rode him?

Get a grip, she scolds herself when he finds what he’s looking for, pulling back to face her. She hopes he can’t read where her thoughts had strayed, can’t see the evidence she’s sure is written all over her, you literally just came three times. It’s just Neverland, just like it had been when she’d kissed him in his cabin and had been ready to let him fuck her on his desk where anyone could walk in (and had). It has to be - because if it’s not and it’s just him, then this could become a problem really quickly.

If Killian does notice though, he doesn’t say anything and her own spiralling thoughts are halted when she sees the bottle in his hand, the water swirling of its own volition, a pattern that has no ties to the world around it.

“Is that water from the spring?” she asks hesitantly as she watches him pour some onto another bit of cloth, one that looks like the same kind of bandage she’d made for him.

“Aye.”

“You’ve just been carrying that stuff around? Might have been helpful when you were stuck in that hospital bed.”

Another exasperated look. “I filled a bottle when we arrived - It doesn’t work in your realm. Thought it might come in handy. And look, it has.” She has to fight a laugh at his snark; he’s been spending too much time with her. “Now are you going to let me help you?” he asks, what was obviously originally a kind gesture now spoken with a familiar sigh that makes her catch her amusement between her teeth even as she nods and turns her back to him.

“How did you find out about this stuff?” she asks when his hook brushes her hair out of the way over her shoulder - mostly to distract herself from the feel of the metal against the nape of her neck, remembering it other places.

His tone is solemn when he answers though, cloth not touching her skin as he hesitates. “When I first came here… my brother was poisoned - dreamshade.” Brother? The water is cool against her back, his touch careful. “Pan showed me the spring.”

“The water saved him?”

The length of his pause makes her wish she hadn’t asked. “For a time.”

“He drank it.” It’s not a question and he doesn’t answer and her heart breaks for him. “And Pan let you leave.” How many people has he lost - how much pain has he suffered at the hands of the cruel people who took them from him? “Why did you come back?”

“Because I was a fool, looking for revenge against the Crocodile. Sometimes I wonder if he knew - if he showed me the dreamshade because he knew I’d return for it one day. He has a way of seeing people, finding the parts they don’t want seen, and using them to get what he wants.” She wants to tell him that he’s wrong, that whoever he thinks Pan saw in him isn’t who he is. But she can’t find the words, all of them sounding like platitudes. He misunderstands her silence. “Henry’s far stronger than I was, love. He won’t give in so easily.”

Killian presses the cloth to her back again, meticulous in his task and she wraps her arms around her knees, pulling them to her chest. “What did you say to him?”

She can feel the tension radiating off of him, matching it immediately. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I couldn’t risk him seeing me and knowing you were here. For all he is, Henry’s still a child, and little boys can’t keep secrets.”

“So what did you do?”

The way he clears his throat is almost indecipherable, his hand going over the same spot by her shoulder again and again, the scratch definitely gone by now. “Pan’s camp is always moving, but he also always sets it near a body of water, usually a stream.”

“Why?”

The cloth slides over her skin slowly, buying time, avoiding looking at her. “For the Lorelei.”

Emma whirls on him. “What?”

“Calm down, love,” he says softly, trying to get her to turn back around. “The sirens are his messengers; they relay his desires and bring him news of any stirrings on the island.”

“Killian. Did you send fucking Ianeira to him?” The mermaid who’s apparently so fond of drowning and eating humans.

“No.” She breathes a sigh of relief, but it’s short lived. “...Ianeira has a daughter.”

“What?!” That’s not any better.

“Swan.” He gives up his task for a moment, finally looking at her. “Do you really believe I’d have sought their help if they posed any threat to Henry? The Lost Boys are off limits to the Lorelei, and they’re on our side, bound by a bargain you made.” Her shoulders relax a little, still not happy about it. “The girl is hardly older than Henry in appearance. I thought she would have a better chance at getting through to him. The Lorelei can be…”

“Fucking terrifying?”

“Aye,” he nods. “She drew him from the camp and passed on our warning - that he can’t trust Pan, no matter what he says, that the hunt tomorrow is real and Pan would try and make him hurt the other boys, that if he did… he would never be able to leave Neverland.”

“Is that true?” Emma tries to keep the tremor out of her voice as she turns away, resting her chin on her knees. She doesn’t want to see his face when he answers. She'd rather be able to believe him if he lies.

“I don’t know,” he admits, drawing the healing water over a mark by her spine. “But we won’t find out, aye?”

She nods, halfheartedly. “And you’re sure he wasn’t there?”

“I watched the camp from the treeline all night and into the morning. Your boy resisted Pan’s manipulations. He’s stubborn, like his mother.” She shoots him a look over her shoulder, eyes narrowed and he smirks. “It’ll serve him well here. I kept watch until it would have been too late for him to join. I told you, love, he was far away from all of it.”

“But you weren’t.”

She feels his sigh hot against her skin. “I took a shortcut back to the ship. I couldn’t risk Pan wondering where I was when they reached the beach…”

Emma nods. “Today was -” She doesn’t have words for it.

“I know.” She feels the backs of his fingers ghost over the nape of her neck, brushing away hair that hasn’t fallen, thumb tracing along her nape. “I wish I could say it gets easier.”

She nods again - she wouldn’t believe him if he did - and tightens her arms around her knees, banishing the memories that try to creep in, wanting to stay here where they don’t exist for a little longer.

“So Ianeira has a kid.” He doesn’t comment on her change of subject, only hums. “She doesn’t really seem the motherly type.” And then thought suddenly strikes her. “Is she…”

Killian laughs. “Mine?” It’s not that ridiculous. He might have accidentally boned all the mermaids in Neverland. He could have dozens of little merbabies swimming around. “No, Swan, sirens don’t reproduce. They’re born of chance and magic, and very rare.”

“What about all your ‘creative’ encounters?”

“Those are… recreational.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Of course they are.” She doesn’t have to see his smirk to know it’s there, hook looping around her arm, tugging it gently free from its death grip around her legs so he can tend to the skin she marked up in her attempt to escape. The water stings slightly, the cuts deeper there, the cloth no longer as cold. “I can’t believe she let you use her daughter,” she admits. “She was so protective of her sisters.”

Killian hums in agreement, “It took some convincing.”

“Did it?” She doesn’t think she’s ever failed so spectacularly at sounding indifferent.

He lets out a soft huff of laughter, lips pressing to the back of her shoulder before he rests his chin on it. “Jealous?”

Emma scoffs. “Yeah, right. You wish.”

He’s quiet for a moment, her teasing not returned and he takes a slow breath in, lifting his head to look at her, the weight of his gaze enough that she twists to meet it. His exhale is warm against the curve of her neck, the sincerity in his eyes stripped bare, holding her captive with their intensity. “Perhaps I do.”

She swallows, heart racing at his confession. Because that’s what it is, a confession of intentions, of feelings she’s not sure she can face - his or her own. He’s watching her, waiting, that openness, the little bit of hope she can see breaking through absolutely terrifying. It’s one thing to find comfort in each other after a tragedy. But this, what he’s so clearly asking, isn’t something she thinks she can give.

Her tongue runs over her lips, mouth suddenly dry, the motion drawing his attention and breaking whatever that was that just passed between them. Her voice is tinged with gravel when she tells him, “I think you’ve got enough jealous creatures on this island for one man to handle.”

Emma sees the barest hint of disappointment he lets slip and makes herself ignore it. “You make me sound like quite the scoundrel,” he smirks, reaching for his discarded shirt and draping it over her shoulders. “I assure you I can only devote myself to one woman at a time.”

She raises a brow at him, pulling the shirt closed around herself, feeling less vulnerable than she had a moment ago and she thinks maybe he’d known. “There were three fairies throwing themselves at you yesterday - four,” she corrects, having forgotten the handsome gold-hued man. She thinks she sees the slightest hint of a blush on his cheeks beneath the cocky shrug.

“That was Solstice. It doesn’t count.”

Emma rolls her eyes, pointing out for the second time, “How convenient.”

A thud from upstairs draws her attention, followed by a shout of pain, and she hears Will cursing. Stay bloody still, damnit. When she looks over at Killian, he’s watching the ceiling too, whatever lightness he may have held onto for a moment now gone.

“We should get up there,” she says, not looking forward to whatever devastation awaits them on deck. There’s no lesser horror. Either many survived and there’ll be dozens of wounded and traumatised children awaiting them, forced to join a life of being hunted by Pan forever, or there won’t be - and the beach will be littered with bodies.

“Aye,” he agrees, standing and finding his pants, tugging the leather over his hips as she does the same. She’s lacing them up when she notices his attention.

“What?”

“You’ve got my shirt.” She looks down at the soft black fabric he’d wrapped her in, then at the bloodied white shirt in his hand. “Not that you don’t look quite fetching in it, love, but unless you want Wendy and Scarlet to know -”

Emma snatches her shirt from him, shooting him a half-hearted glare. “Turn around.” The look he gives her tells her what she already knows, that she’s being absolutely ridiculous, but he just gives her an amused little smirk before doing as she asked. It’s not that she thinks Will and Wendy don’t already know, or that she’s oblivious to the fact that he’s already seen everything, but preparing to walk into a tragedy after they’ve been hiding down here, selfishly pretending it wasn’t happening, sends guilt churning in her stomach.

When she’s dressed, hat tugged low over her head to try and hide her face from the new boys, she lets him turn back around, tossing him his shirt and waiting until he pulls the heavy leather coat back over his shoulders. “Ready?”

No. She nods.

The scene is worse than she imagined. She’d been prepared for the blood, for the pain and the chaos as the crew do their best to tend to whatever injuries they can. There’s buckets of bloodied spring water, discarded bandages stained red, former Lost Boys shouting and struggling against the holds the pirates have on them as they try and heal them. They’re still the enemy, she realizes. They may have just been nearly murdered by their comrades but until this morning, the Jolly was enemy territory, and now they’re being held captive.

What she hadn’t been prepared for were the ones who weren’t injured, who weren’t fighting, the ones sitting along the side of the ship, knees curled tight to their chests and hands over their ears as they stare at nothing with eyes that aren’t seeing.

Killian moves quickly, hurrying over to where Will is trying to hold down a boy who looks about twelve while Wendy attempts to reset his leg, broken with an arrow pierced through the bone. He takes the boy’s shoulder and arm so Will can do the same, both pressing down on his torso until he can’t move - Emma looks away but she hears the crunch of bone and the scream nonetheless.

“Hand me some bandages.” It’s not until Wendy shouts her name that she realizes she’s talking to her, the boy still fighting, though he’s growing weaker now. She scrambles to grab some from one of the buckets, bringing them to her. The captain begins wrapping the injury with soaked bandages, the arrow that had pierced him used as a brace, and the kid’s eyes fade in and out of focus, finally shutting as he passes out.

“A little help!” one of the pirates calls, struggling under the weight of a boy only a few years younger than himself. A stain of dark red blood is blooming on his stomach, soaking through his leather vest and Emma doesn’t freeze this time, running over and looping the kid’s other arm over her shoulders. They set him down against the mainsail, Emma watching as the pirate, barely more than a teenager, pulls open the boy’s shirt.

“What happened?”

“Looks like a rapier,” he answers, inspecting the gash, blood flowing freely from it. “Gimme a hand,” he tells her and grabs the kid’s shoulder so they can turn him over. “Dammit. It’s gone right through him.” Emma doesn’t know much about medicine but she does know that without treatment, a stomach wound is basically a death sentence.

“Can you do anything?”

“Nothing good,” he sighs under his breath. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a bottle like the one Killian carried and uncorking it. “Listen, mate, I can make this better okay?” The boy glares at him, face pale and clammy, distrusting. “If you drink this, you’ll live. If you don't, you're gonna die.” Emma’s thrown by his bluntness, by how calm he is despite being so young and she wonders how many hunts he’s already lived through. The boy continues to glare, looking away from him, rejecting the offer. “But if you do - hey,” he snaps, grabbing the kid’s chin and making him face him. “You’ll never get to leave, okay? You’ll be stuck here. Forever. And it fucking sucks here once you’re out. But you’ll be alive. And you’ll be one of us.”

“Can’t you just give it to him?�� Emma demands, a second away from snatching the bottle and forcing it down the dying teenager’s throat.

The pirate shakes his head. “Captain’s rules.” She wonders which captain.

The boy still looks resistant, like he’d rather die than become a pirate than switch sides, regardless of what Pan’s just done to him. But then he starts to cough, a fit that takes over, the rough sound gurgling and wet as blood begins to drip from his lips and he turns panicked eyes on the pirate. The older boy nods, handing him the vial, but not letting go yet, waiting until the kid meets his gaze. “Never,” he reminds him. “You’ll never go home, okay?”

Emma watches him nod, bring the water to his bloodied mouth and drink, wincing and coughing as he tries to swallow, finally managing to get some down. They wait, a few long, drawn out moments, before the pirate looks at his wound again and Emma watches in amazement as it begins to close, blood flowing backwards along his torso in streams, pulled back into the tear in his skin.

The older boy pats his shoulder. “Try and get some rest. That’ll still hurt like a bitch for a while.” And then he’s gone, moved on to the next injured Lost Boy, and the next.

When everything is over, wounds bandaged, survivors counted, bodies laid carefully on the deck, a strange sort of silence settles over the ship. It’s not the silence of Neverland, that unending, eerie quiet, but the silence of dozens choosing not to speak, unable to speak in the wake of bloodshed. A crew member is cleaning the deck, the oldest here by far in his mid twenties, gaze somehow both unbothered and far away as he mops up the blood that ripples with the whim of the spring water spilled on the wood. Will is over by the side of the ship, talking to some of the boys who won’t speak, who don’t look at anything, voice falling low and gentle on deaf ears.

Wendy and Killian are with the dead, placing coins over their eyes and wrapping their bodies in sails. She can count five, five who made it to safety only to die on the bow of the Jolly. Emma stares out at the beach. There were far more than five out there. A few hours ago there were at least a dozen Lost Boys left out under the hot son. Both are gone now.

Sometime, in what’s been both the shortest and longest day of her life - the sun setting before it had managed to reach its highest point in the sky - Pan and his crew must have come by to collect their dead. Or perhaps something else took care of them, she’d seen shadows on the beach as darkness settled. Though what or who those shadows belonged to she couldn’t tell.

Killian had explained, as she’d helped to place a boy gently on a stretch of canvas and sew the fabric around him, that night always came quickly after a hunt. “There’s always a celebration for the victors.” Wendy had said the word with so much disgust it made Emma’s stomach turn. “They feast and fly and dance around the fire, bragging about their conquests.”

“Did you ever-” she started, but stopped when the woman’s face darkened, regret and anger. “I’m sorry.”

“They’re children,” is all Wendy gave in answer, casting a look towards Will, still trying to reach a boy, shaking and huddled by the helm. “So were we.”

Sleep doesn’t come easy, the sound of footsteps above her making her jerk awake - boys who’d refused to take a bunk below deck, still not willing to accept their new fate, their new role on this island. Voices set her heart racing, forgetting every time that the hunt is over. The crying tonight is louder than it’s been since she arrived, and the sounds of celebration carry over on the water.

She wants to go up there, wants to help them in a way she couldn’t this morning. But she saw the way they looked at her on deck, anger and hatred and fear. She’d be no comfort to them, not as a pirate. She could as herself, as a mother like ones they keep calling out for even now. Little boys can’t keep secrets. Emma’s shared her secret enough on this island. She can’t risk it without knowing they’re allies.

Knowing that doesn’t make it any less horrible, doesn’t make the guilt any lighter or stop each wail from piercing through her chest. And it doesn’t bring sleep either. She hears the door to the room beside her open quietly and shut with a click, hears the muffled voices, one hissed anger and the other gentle compassion, back and forth until they both go silent, finding comfort amidst the chaos.

It makes her want to cry, to let her own tears join those she only hears because she’s always been alone, because she’s always been abandoned - time and again. That may be the worse part, the small, selfish part of her that couldn’t help but understand their sorrow. She’s never lived through anything like they just have, but she knows that betrayal, the heartbreak of having trusted someone so completely, only to be cast aside. Alone again. Always alone.

“Emma?” He’s not asleep when she sneaks into his cabin, pads across the small space to his bed. He’s half sat up, hand reaching instinctively for his sword at the first creak of the door opening, but his brace and hook are on the small table beside him, blunted arm and chest bare, sheets pooled in his lap. “What’s wrong?”

She tries to answer, all of her explanations feeling weak, and her words get caught on a shaky inhale. She doesn’t want to talk about it, so instead she closes the rest of the distance between them, climbing carefully into the bed beside him and sliding beneath the covers. He tenses for a moment when she curls herself against his side, head resting tentatively on his shoulder, but then he softens, letting out a breath and sinking back against the pillows.

His arm hovers, hesitating before wrapping around her. She brings her own hand to his chest, focusing on the feel of the dark hair beneath her fingers rather than the way her hands still shake, listening to the rise and fall of his breaths rather than the sobs upstairs she can’t escape, and the steady beat of his heart as she tries to forget all the ones that won’t beat again.

His lips press to her crown, not quite a kiss as he speaks against her hair. “Sleep, love. Neverland can’t find you here.”

******

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from my tag list!

@kmomof4 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @jennjenn615 @dramioneswan @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @batana54 @lfh1226-linda @csalltheway @xsajx @xarandomdreamx @onceratheart18 @ownedbycaptainswan @teamhook @pirateprincessofpizza @lostintheskyfaraway @zaharadessert @thejollyroger-writer @ultraluckycatnd @justanother-unluckysoul @spartanguard @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @wefoundloveunderthelight @sailtoafarawayland @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @superchocovian @snowbellewells @xellewoods @sals86 @karlyfr13s @ouatpost @skairipakomtrikru @lonelyspectator12 @anmylica @alexa-fangirl-forever @inspiredbystardust @marcella2727 @paradiselady19 @koryandr @killiansprincss @goforlaunchcee

#captain swan #cs fanfic #cs neverland au #cs neverland smut #cs smut #cs angst #cw violence #cw death #season 1 au #sort of

31 notes · View notes