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mrsparrasblog · 3 days

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You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader

TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry

pt.2

The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.

Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.

Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.

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Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.

"What’s wrong, Johnny?"

"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."

"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.

"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.

As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.

"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.

"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.

He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."

She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.

Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.

"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."

"Your girlfriend?"

"You won’t tell her a thing."

"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.

"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."

Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."

"Stop."

"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.

"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.

You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.

They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.

"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.

"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.

And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.

"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."

"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.

"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.

"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.

"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.

"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.

"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."

"EY!"

"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.

"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.

"Well, you didn’t, did you?"

"No, love, wait."

"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."

"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.

Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.

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screaminglygay · 5 months

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Warm welcome

pairings: kate bishop x fem!reader, avengers x reader (platonic)

summary: after 3 months of being gone, you finaly came back home, but there is a new addiction to the avengers, will the two of you come along?

warnings: new series so very very slow burn!, some swearing, bad grammar possibly (i hope not hehe), alcohol consumption, bad jokes, reader being little mess, that’s it for this part I think:)

word count: 5.5k

an: new series!! since i got back into being very obsessed with miss bishop, so i decided to start a new series, its gonna be long, cuz my ideas for this went crazy!

an2: and yes, this is an universe where everyone is alive, most of them are 100% happy and it´s just a safe space, come at me as you want, but i just need them to be happy. that´s all, thank you.

an3: yup i am back! so sorry! work, school and sickness is just not it. ill answer all of you soon! thank you for support, i see youuu!

!MDNI!

After long time away from you found family, you finaly came back home. It was supposed to be quick mission in Morocco, but after you found out that this is something bigger than some usual drug trafficking you had to stay. Not just for Fury´s sake, but for your own too.

And that´s how you stayed over 3 months in some old motel, that looked like a typical horror hounted house, alone. But that was a past, you´re currently standing infront of the main entrance of the Avengers Compound, ready to open the door and see everyone.

As you open the door the voice of a F.R.I.D.A.Y., the Stark´s AI. "Welcome home, miss (Y/L/N), should I contact the others that you are home?"

"No, no. I want it to be surprise. And (Y/N) is just fine, like I´ve said before, many times." you smile.

As you traverse the hallways, anticipation builds with every passing moment, knowing that you're drawing closer to that cherished destination—the main living room. The anticipation turns to a gentle excitement, a feeling of returning to a sanctuary that holds a piece of your soul.

And finally, as you reach the threshold of the living room, a soft sigh escapes your lips, and a smile graces your face. The sight of the familiar couch, but most importatnly the sight of your favorite people.

"That´s the question, do you put cereals or milk first?" you hear Pietro´s voice, smiling at the fact that he didn´t change a bit, still the same goof. Three months are not so long, but at the same time everything can be different in three months.

You watch him for a little bit and then you dediced to speak up. "Everyone who puts milk first is total psychopat," you calmly say as all of their faces turns to look at you.

"Oh my god! (Y/N)!" Pietro says and in a second he´s lifting you up and pulling you into a tight squeezing hug.

"Hey Speedy," you chuckle as he´s crushing your body. "Pietro... too much, ouch." He let go of you.

"Sorry, sorry. It´s been like what?" Pietro laughs and puts you down.

"3 motnhs, 17 days," you look at your phone, "4 hours, 18 minutes and few seconds." Pietro laughs at your comment.

"It was a long time, let´s just say that." You can hear another sokovian accent, this time the voice belongs to a woman. Wanda.

She hugs you close, hints of warm vanilla and soft lavender dance around you. It's a scent that feels like homecoming, wrapping you in familiarity and a sense of belonging. You smile into the touch, as you felt that the touch is soothing the ache of missed embraces. You feel the gentle warmth of her hug infusing into your being, fulfilling a longing for touch that has been starved for far too. "Hi." is all you can mumble, while hugging the girl.

"Hi," she mumbles back, no words needed for the two of you, both of you missed eachother like lungs misses the air. To be fair, Wanda was the first person you grew close to, when you´ve joined the Avengers. She was quiet, but so well spoken at the same time. You never had to explain things for her to understand you. And the same went the other way around.

The rest of the Avengers come into the living room and all of their faces lit up, when they saw you. All of them are here. Except for Carol, who is probably somewhere in the space, you haven´t seen her in almost half a year, since she had off world mission even before you went to Morocco.

You shared many hugs with all of them, and you didn´t mind it a little bit. You were so touch starved after being alone, that you hold everyone closer for at least a few seconds and all of them did the same. Suprisingly even Yelena didn´t said anything, like she always did.

You scan the whole room, chcecking if you didn´t missed anyone and you in fact did. But the person is not someone you recognize. There is this tall, dark hair girl, who looks pretty much the same age as you. She looks effortlessly stylish in her well-fitted blue jeans paired with a cozy gray sweater. The jeans accentuate her figure while the relaxed elegance of the sweater gives off a vibe of comfort. The girl looks rather awkward as everyone greets you. Not that she wouldn´t know who you are, she does, she heard a lot of stories about you, almost like she knew who you are, but you don´t know anything at all and that makes her feel awkward.

You look at her and smile, not knowing what to do yourself, so Clint steps in, "(Y/N), this is Kate, our new help, Kate this is (Y/N), our old help." You nod at Clint´s words and extent your hand for her to shake it.

"Pleasure to finaly meet you, (Y/N)." Kate smiles her hand has a firm grip.

"Nice to meet you too, Kate." You smile, maybe too much for a normal meeting. You have to admit she is georgous and her completly blue eyes are making you forget where you are right now.

"(Y/F/N)!" Natasha storms into the living room, her voice a sharp, controlled fury that cuts through the air, making you swallow... hard. "When did you arrived?" Even thoug she was mad for not knowing you came back, she was very relieved that you are okay and alive. As her hands wrap around you, you let out a squek and you froze knowing what comes afterwards. "Are you hurt?"

"I´m fine," you quickly say as the rest of the team watch you closely.

"I didn´t ask you, how are you, I´ve asked you if you´re hurt." Her eyes scans your face where she sees the little cuts you have on your face.

"A little bit." You mumble and Natasha raises her eyebrow. "I might have or might have not fallen out of the third floor, " you mumble again.

"YOU FELL FROM THE THIRD FLOOR?!" Natasha is basically yelling at you right now.

"Kinda," sometimes you were terrified of that woman, and that sometimes is now.

Natasha takes a long deep breath, "(Y/N), how do you kinda fell out of a third floor?"

"I´m gonna check her up." Bruce smiles and stand up, leading you to the hospital wing downstairs.

"Thank you, for saving my life," you whisper to him as you´re leaving the living room.

"Don´t mention it, but you know... she´s worried about you. We all have been." Bruce opens the door for you.

"I know, but I´m really okay, just few bruises."

...

After 20 minutes of checking you up, and hearing your story of falling from the building, Bruce looks shocked. He didn´t said a word yet, only wrote down something in his report.

"This is going to be a very long mission report, just from the medical side," he looks at you, "(Y/N)... you had your lower ribs broken, twice actually. And- I´m suprised you´re not screaming in pain right now. How do you truly feel?" Bruce finally looks at you.

"I feel good, really. I mean it hurts, yes. But I felt worse. It feels like a daily workout with Natasha," you shrug as you joke, but Bruce doesn´t seem amused by your joke, but he still nods.

"You know Natasha can look into any mission report, right?" He looks like he´s more scared than you are.

"I´m aware, yes." You give him a confused look.

"Well good luck..." he pats your shoulder, "just rest for the next days, keep yourself hydrated and don´t share the story how you fell from the third floor, please. She would lose it."

"But it truly wasn´t my fault I-" Bruce looks at you and you stop, "got it." You nod.

...

"Alright, so picture this: I'm in this quiet little motel in Morocco, writing down some information I found out that day. It's just me, the mission, and this cute little stray cat that kept showing up at my door. Every night, like clockwork, she'd appear, almost like she knew I needed a friend. So, one day, I caved and let her in. You know, against all mission protocols and stuff. Bla blah blah... but she became my only friend, so I would not lose my mind completly." You talk about your experiences on the mission.

"And then, the weirdest thing happened. One day, she just disappeared. I was worried, you know? Felt a bit empty without her there. But on my last day, she came back. And guess what? She brought company—tiny, adorable company. She led me to this corner, and there they were, her little kittens. It was like she wanted to say goodbye and show me her new family all at once. It was… unexpected, but kinda touching, you know?" You smile, thinking about the tiny family.

"It was truly cute and adorable, also it was kinda relaxing after seeing all the bad and negativity. Like... animals are truly precious you know." As you´re talking you didn´t notice another person coming into the living room, until that person decides to speak up.

"(Y/L/N)," you turn around and notice it´s Nick Fury himself.

"Fury!" You smile.

He didn´t smile back, he has the same old Nick Fury look, "I want your report soon..."

"Y-yes, sir." You nod your head, hoping he would welcome you a little warmer, but it´s Nick Fury after all.

"And (Y/L/N)?" Fury says while basically walking out of the living room already.

"Yes, sir?"

"It´s good to have you back." He smiles, Fury smiles at you. There go your wish of a warmer welcome. Nickolas freaking Fury smiled at you and welcomed you home, warmly.

You have a pround smile on your face, when Tony speaks up, "I work for him for god knows how long and he never looked at me this way..."

Natasha looks at Tony and smirks, "can you blame him?".

You sink into the couch with a grin, finally getting a chance to unwind in your home-away-from-home. After swapping stories and catching up on compound news, Tony steps in with a suggestion—a special Avengers night. Not his typical flashy party, thankfully. He calls it a "Catching Up Night," just a laid-back dinner and some drinks.

It's not about going all out; it's about the simple pleasure of hanging out with your superhero pals, sharing laughs and updates. Tonight's vibe feels relaxed, a chance to chill and connect without the whole party frenzy.

...

Like always druing these 'non party party' you and Pietro moved to the bar section, as he loves to make people their drink based on their personality and you just like to sit and listen to him ramble.

"Do you want a drink called 'Tiny cold' or 'Closet paradise'?" he smirks, being proud of his jokes, like the usual.

"Really? First of all I´m not that tiny, also I´m not in the closet. What do you want me to do, tattoo a pride flag on my forehead?" You raise your eyebrow.

"If it wasn´t true you wouldn´t get so defensive, darling," he winks.

"I hate you."

"No, you don´t." Pietro towers above everyone you know, his playful teasing is basically a form of big-brotherly teasing.

"I´ll get the closet paradise, please." You roll your eyes.

"Coming right at ya!" Pietro smiles, once again, he won your little fight.

"So, Pietro, spill the beans! Who's this new girl, Kate?"

"Ah, Kate, huh? What do you want to know about her?" Pietro say while making you the drink.

"Everything! No one's given me a straight answer. Or any answer at all. I mean I didn´t ask, but I´m doing that now..." You ramble.

Pietro smirks at your words, "I mean... she´s cool."

"Come on, Pietro, don't be like that! Is she nice? What does she do?" You are obvoisuly frustrated as not even Pietro is giving you any tea.

"Well, she's got moves, that's for sure. Quick on her feet, sharp with her arrows—" He almost finishes up the drink for you.

"Arrows?" You cut him off.

"Yep, a regular Robin Hood type, except with better aim and a cooler outfit." He put ice in the glass.

"Is she nice, though? Friendly?" You want to get to know her.

Pietro nods and serves you the drink. "Yeah, she's cool once you get past the whole 'I'm new here' vibe she's got going."

"What do you mean?" You smile at him for giving you the drink.

"Why don´t we invite her and you find out yourself?" Pietro says, not really waiting for your answer and he is already waving like a crazy person at Kate, who is still standing next to the table by herself.

Kate smiles as she notices, that she doesn´t need to stand there awkwardly alone, and she little less awkwardly skips over to the bar. Small "hi" escaping her mouth.

"Hey there archer, why were you standing there all alone, when you can have fun with us?" Pietro starts the conversation.

"I uh-" Kate starts, but no smart explanation leaves her mouth.

"Pietro..." you look at him.

"What?" He looks at you, not knowing what he did wrong.

"No, he´s right. I´m little socialy awkward." The tall girl responds.

You smile at her, slightly noding your head. "Aren´t we all?" You try to make her feel a little better.

"I´m not." Of course Pietro had to say something.

"Well you´re one of a kind, Speedy." Pietro smirks proudly, while you roll your eyes once again.

"Um... what are you drinking?" Kate nods towards your drink in your hand. It was indeed very pretty colorful drink.

"I am drinking a drink that Pietro made..." You say while looking at the drink in your hand.

"The drink has it´s name, (Y/N)." Pietro smiles innocently.

"Yeah, well... I forgot it." You simple just shrug while Kate looks very confused.

"I´ll get one too, please. It looks tasty." Kate looks at Pietro, who just giggles to himself and starts to prepare Kate one 'Closet paradise' too.

All three of you start to be a little tipsy after some time, since Pietro´ alcohol ratio was 2/3 and the remaining ingredients 1/3, he´s just a begginer behind the bar. You realized that Kate is such an easy person to talk to and she´s not that intoverted as you though the first time you saw her earlier today. She´s the exact opposite to be fair, she´s very talkative. In some topics more than Pietro, which you thought is impossible.

After a little bit you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, when you sit down on the toilet, you can´t hide your stupid little smile anymore. Why are you smiling? You don´t really know. But it´s nice, it´s really nice actualy.

After 10 minutes, you come back to the bar, seeing that Kate is sitting there alone. "Where is our bartender?"

"He was invited to an arm wrestling match and, of course, he went." You can notice, that Kate´s cheeks are a little flushed, due to the few drinks she had.

"Of course." You chuckle as you sit next to Kate on one of the bar stools and your eyes immedietly look at her. "Do you like it here? Being in the team? Superhero stuff?"

Kate´s eyes meet yours, "I do have to say, that I idolized it a bit, but it´s not so bad. Not at all." She smiles at you, "what about you? Was it hard being away from your family?"

You nod, "First two weeks were okay, it went suprisingly fast, to be honest. Another week was really boring and then... it´s just mashed in one big mess of fighting, bleeding, falling and running away." You chuckle, but the smile never reached your eyes and Kate notices that.

Kate knows that she needs to make you feel better, "I uh... you know people here missed you a lot. To be honest when i officially joined I felt like there is something missing in here.."

"Oh please..."

"No, no, really. When I moved in, Clint told me that no one gives better tours than you. He also told me that no one makes better coffee´s, which was a first big indicator, that you have to be a class." Kate let out a chuckle and so did you. You often had many stories to tell, when you were giving tours, even though you are the second youngest Avanger. And the coffee you make? It can bring a smile even to the grumpiest Winter Soldier.

"And from that moment I heard a lot of things about you, (Y/N). It felt like I knew you too, like I missed you too." Kate admits, after that she sips on her drink.

"Wow, that´s really... nice to hear." You smile from ear to ear. "I hope you heard only the good things though." You slightly blush. "But um... thank you, Kate."

"No problem." She smiles back.

"To be fair, I didn´t heard anything about you, but I would like to change that." Smooth.

"That is pretty fair." Kate nods as she finishes her drink and so did you.

"We can go to the roof." Is a sentence you said at the same time and you also laugh at the same time

"Roof it is." You chuckle as you two get up and aim to the roof.

Upon reaching the rooftop with Kate, a gentle but brisk breeze sweeps by, causing a subtle chill to settle around you. The evening's tranquility is undeniable, yet the slight coldness in the air prompts you to huddle a bit closer to yourself, silently wishing for an extra layer to ward off the chill.

"I don´t want to admit it, but Pietro makes really good drinks." Kate starts as you two sat next to eachother.

"He does, he´s the best, really." You mumble as you nod to Kate´s comment.

She looks at you, for a bit scanning your face, then she speaks up again. "Do you and... Pietro you know? Are you two together?"

That question almost makes you sober, "I- what?!" You look at her, "oh god no! No, no, no," you laugh.

"No? Oh sorry, I just... assumed." She lets out a little shaky breath.

"We´re close friends, but that´s all. I actually joined a little bit after them and since all of us were scared and going into the unknown we decided to stick together. Including Wanda." You explain the situation, while Kate nods at your words.

"Oh- I see." Her eyes are still on you.

"I wouldn´t choose Pietro in any scenario..."

"That´s harsh." She chuckles.

"I mean it in the best way possible, he´s... anyone who will date him is lucky and unlucky at the same time. Being his friend means having a strong willpower not to kill him, I can´t even imagine what it would be in a relationship with him."

"That´s fair, I guess." Kate nods.

"Give him few more moths and you´ll understand..." You let out a small giggle.

"So you´re not into cocky people?" Kate is bold, very bold. it shocks you, but at the same time it excites you a lot.

"I- don´t really know. I guess... if you´re nice to me, that´s all I´m asking, really." You shrug, once again making eye contact.

"Wait really? This little? Oh come on, not even type? Just 'Nice'?" Kate can´t believe your words.

"Yup. I´m not picky at this point."

"Oh wow, you´re one of the migty heroes, and all it takes to steal your heart is to be nice?" Kate smiles at you, trying to hold a laugh.

"And a good smile, I´m quite sucker for pretty smiles." You didn´t even register you said it, until Kate repeats it.

"Nice and a good smile, whoa (Y/N), be little humble." She nudges your side with her elbow.

"Very funny, Bishop. Do you know how hard is to find someone, who is actually nice? It´s hard these days." You sigh dramatically.

"Whatever you say." Kate lays down, looking at the stars. You watch her for a few minutes and then you lay down next to her.

It feels like you two know eachother longer than just few hours. The alcohol might be a little helper, but at the end you feel like you two are gonna be close friends.

"I still think that there is way more good people than bad, so you might have a chance..." she mumbles as she watches the night sky.

"You think?"

"I know that. For example here, all of you guys are nice, super nice. And I´m not saying it just because you´re 'The Avengers', but I can tell that no matter what you´re trying to do the best." Kate turns her head and looks at you.

"You know you´re part of this punk family too, right? And also it would be weird and kinda pointless, if some bad guys were in the Avengers." You chuckle as you point out.

"That´s not what I´ve meant and you know it." She rolls her eyes and looks back up.

"How did you even met Clint?" You ask, shifting your position so now you´re laying on your side, facing the archer.

"Um... I saved a dog´s life and he almost hit me with his car." Kate responds like it was nothing.

You laugh, "I have to say that is very original way to get into the team. 'You almost killed me and I won´t sue you, if you let me be an Avenger.' And bonus points for saving a dog´s life."

Kate groans and turns on her side to face you, "it was not like that... I was running away from a weird kinda scary looking guys, which later on I found out they were called 'Track-suit mafia'-" As Kate starts to explain how she actually got on the team and how she is basically the young and female version of Clint, you can´t help but notice how happy she is.

She's delving into these tiny details that might not matter to the story at large, but they mean the world to her, and you can sense it. Her storytelling consumes her so much that she's using her entire body, mostly her hands, to illustrate every bit of it. You find it incredibly endearing, the most adorable thing you've ever witnessed.

"Oh wow, so you´re badass basically." You laugh.

"I- yeah, you could say that too." She laughs as well.

"Well it is a honor and-" you sit back up, while you still look at her. "Thank you for your service, miss Bishop."

Kate smile and notices your subtle shivers in the chilly air, gently nudging you. "Hey, you're shivering. Come on, let's head back inside."

You attempt to brush it off with a weak smile. "Nah, I'm good, just enjoying the view."

She tilts her head, giving you a knowing look. "Sure, you are," Kate teases. "But seriously, you're freezing. Let's go before you turn into an icicle."

Reluctantly, you nod, giving in to the undeniable truth. "Alright, fine."

The door creaked open, welcoming you into the comforting embrace of the heated indoors. With a grateful smile, you thanked Kate for her concern, secretly relieved to escape the biting cold.

"There you are! Where have you been?" A slightly drunk Tony takes your hand, "thanks to me, being so amazing, I´ve got a little suprise for you!"

"I was- what surprise?" You give Stark a confusing look.

"It was not thanks to you, but Fury." As soon as the voice echoes through the room, you instinctively recognize it—Carol, immediately drawing your attention her way.

"Carol?!" You turn around and notice a tall blonde lady standing behind you, with her hair down and a black pants with a black tank top.

"I heard you came home." She said with her typical smirk, while her big strong hands wrapped your body. You simply just nod.

"How long will you stay?" You knew right away, that it won´t be for long.

"Just tonight, I´ll be leaving tomorrow early in the morning." You sigh, it was like this all the time, Carol will come and go, you didn't hold it against her at all. She is the protector of the whole space, not only The Earth. It was hard for her too, you hoped that she will remeber to be Carol for a bit, not only the Captain Marvel. And thanks to Valkyrie, she´s taking care of herself too, but after what happened to Monica, it became worse again.

"So still nothing?" Carol just shakes her head and you frown.

"But we won´t stop looking and we will find her." Carol is trying to be strong, but all of the people in this room knew, that it was just too much, even for a hero like her.

Trying to ease the situation you speak up. "Well then let´s ejnoy this few hours, all of us together." You smile, "I´m glad you´re home too, Car." She nods and smiles back at you.

"Natasha have mentioned, that you had fallen from third floor..." Carol sits down.

"You never finished that story, (Y/N)." The Widow stares at you and your eyes immedietnly search for Bruce, he only shakes his head.

"Oh um... it is not worth telling, nothing special nor interesting." You smile and quickly grab bunch of chips on the table.

Captain Marvel looks at Natasha and nods, "I see," and with a smirk on her face, she sips from her drink. "One would say, that it would be an interesting story to tell." Carol point out.

"Well it´s not." You take some more chips.

The night flowed seamlessly, filled with lively conversations and shared laughter as everyone talked and truly enjoyed themselves. It was one of those evenings where every conversation was engaging, every joke landed perfectly, and the camaraderie among the Avengers felt stronger than ever.

…

As you wait for the elevator to your room, you can´t help but smile. After a long day, today was really good. After you reached your room it didn’t took you long enough to fall asleep.

...

"MY BEST FRIEND CAME HOME AND NO ONE TOLD ME?!" You hear a voice yell at you. Before you can open your eyes, your hit with what felt like pillow.

"Huh?!" You blink a few times to get use to the light in your room.

"WHEN DID YOU CAME? HOW LONG ARE YOU HERE-" Now it was your turn to take the pillow and throw it at the person. As you finaly focus you notice that it´s Spider-boy himself.

"What time is it?" You mumble, still being half asleep.

"6 A.M. BUT WHY DID NO ONE TOLD ME YOU´RE-" And he is hit with another pillow.

"Don´t yell, please," you rub your eyes.

"You´re not happy to see me?" Peter sits next to you on the bed.

"I'm excited to see you, but maybe not with the yelling and at a more reasonable hour than 6 freaking A.M. I'll be much happier." You smile as you open your arms, inviting him into a nice early morning hug.

"Why did no one told me you´re back? I´m always the last one to know things." Peter whines dramatically as he pulls away from the hug.

"Well Tony told me you went with MJ and May on a dinner, so that´s why he didn´t want to ruin it." You shrug, "Anyways how are things with you and MJ?" You raise your eyebrow and he blushes a bit.

"Things are good, really really good, (Y/N). And yesterday dinner with May was really good, we all had fun." You smile at his response.

"I´m really glad." You are happy for you friend, it took him ages to finally confess to her. "Do you.. uh do you know Kate?" You look at him as Peter nods his head, "well... I met her yesterday, and we had a little converstaion on the roof and... she is nice. Really nice. Clint chose a good person" You say with a little blush on your face.

"Oh my god- is she like really really really nice?" He teases.

"Yeah..." You smile, knowing that Peter got your message.

"That is cute. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has a crush. Awww." Peter chuckles.

"Eww stop. I don´t know if it´s a crush, maybe it is... but you- " Peter cuts you off.

"Can´t tell anyone. Got it. Don´t worry. But under one condition..." Peter points up a finger.

"And that will be?"

"You have to talk to her, actually talk to her. Not just you´re super topic about the weather." You always talked to people about weather, when there was nothing else to do and you were dying to save the conversation.

"Easy." You smirk.

Spider-boy raises his eyebrows, "Easy? Let me bet, that you you will forget your own name when she looks at you."

"Oh shut up." You get out of the bed, taking just some oversized hoodie, since you already have a black swetapants and a shirt. "And since you woke me up this early, you´re making me a breakfast." Peter just nods as you two walk into the elevator.

...

When Peter starts to make you some pancakes, Carol walks in.

"There you are! I´m leavin for now, but-" You didn´t let her finish, you just rush to give her a warm long hug.

"I know. Just be careful and don´t forget to take care of yourself." The blonde one smiles.

"Copy that. So... see you later?"

"See you later, Cap." You salute her, which makes her laugh. And with that, Carol went into the skies once more and this time you hope you will see her sooner than in 6 months. The sentence 'see you later' is always better than a goodbye.

As you and Peter swap stories, reliving the adventures and crazy story times. Before he can finish his story about training with Bucky, a dark-haired girl strolled in, catching your attention.

"Morning." She smiles at you and then looks at Peter. Her raspy deep morning voice, messy hair and gray sweatpants with a white tanktop is something no one prepered you for.

"Hi, hello, morning, good- one!" Kate smile just widens and she goes past you to the fridge to get a fresh orange jucie.

Peter leans in closer and mumbles. "You owe me 10 bucks," having the most arrogant smile on his face. You just slap his arm.

"Can I get some pancakes too, please?" Kate watches as Peter flips another one on the plate.

"Of course!" He starts to make a few more, until he looks at his phone, "oh no! I completly forgot. (Y/N) watch the pancakes. I have to go, but you ladides have a good morning!" Peter gives you his spatula and even though Kate just nods and sits down, you know what his plan is.

"Bye Peter." You stare at him, but deep down you´re glad that you can spent some alone time with the archer.

He just sends you a wink and leaves the room.

"Need any help with the toppings?" Kate asks, watching you finish the rest of the pancakes.

"N-no, I've got it. I mean, I can handle it. Thank you, though."

Kate chuckles softly, noticing your nervousness. "You seem a bit flustered. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, just... morning jitters, I guess. I'm not a morning person."

"I see." She smiles.

"Do you have any plans for today?" You look up from the pan.

"Just the usual, a bit of training, maybe some archery with Clint later." Kate asnwers as you put some pancakes infront of her. As Kate tries the pancakes, you feel a sense of relief mixed with a tinge of excitement.

"The pancakes turned out pretty great! Anyway, how about we plan something fun for later? Maybe a movie night?" Kate say while finishing her last piece.

"Sounds perfect! I'd love that, Kate." Oh maybe early mornings are not so bad.

...

Over the next month, the bond between you and Kate flourishes, evolving into a deep and cherished friendship. Training sessions become a shared routine, where sparring sessions turn into moments of encouragement and laughter, each victory and defeat strengthening the relationship between you. Kate's guidance and support during training sessions spark a newfound confidence within you, making each session not just about physical exertion but also about trust and shared goals.

Movie nights become a beloved tradition, the occasional heated debate over the best movie snacks were on daily basis. It's these moments, cozy and intimate, where you find yourself drawn further into the orbit of Kate's infectious personality, her laughter becoming the soundtrack of your nights.

Walking Lucky, Kate's faithful companion, becomes a cherished routine. You find comfort in these quiet moments, admiring Kate's easygoing nature and her love for Lucky, feeling your admiration for her grow stronger with each passing day.

Yet, as your friendship blossoms, so do the feelings within you. What started as little crush has transformed into something deeper, a warmth that lingers whenever you're near Kate, a longing that grows with each shared laugh and meaningful glance. But you bury these feelings deep, treasuring the friendship too much to risk changing its dynamics.

thank you for reading! hopefully you’ll love this new series!!! 💕💖💞

#adele writes #kate bishop x fem!reader #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #marvel fanfiction #marvel #hailee steinfeld #avengers x reader

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yutas-girlfriend · 8 months

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megumi x reader oneshot

you and megumi get into an argument about your safety.

warnings: nothing too nsfw, makeout, yelling

looking him dead in the eyes, without a hint of hesitation, you notice his eyes flare like a fire being fed with gasoline. his jaw clenches and he swiftly grabs your wrist urgently and begins stomping away. a look of confusion and excitement spreads accross your face as the rest of the group begins to chatter once more.

you’ve always known how to press megumis buttons. hes an easy target, practically anything can annoy him to the point of snapping, and you fed off it. you were an excellent fighter both physically and with words, and so was megumi. you fought day in and day out since your return to jujutsu tech, but this was different. this was not a normal friend fight. the only thing you didn’t enjoy arguing about was your safety. he was no saint, definitely a rule breaker, but not in a way that would jeopardize his ability to see you again. you on the other hand, were a rule breaker without many boundaries. you often found yourselves fighting about the situations you got yourself into, and the possible danger.

he dragged you into the nearest classroom and sat down on one of the few desks. it was dark, with only the sunset shining through the windows. you wanted to get this over with, it was getting late now. you begin rubbing your temples, as he exhales sharply.

“i just dont want you to get hurt. you have to understand where im coming from, don’t you?“ he says sharply, looking at your face once more.

“i never said i didn’t understand, but i’m fine. i always am. name one time i’ve been seriously hurt.” the words sting as they come out of your mouth. you already know whats coming next. he huffs, and a small sarcastic chuckle leaves him.

“name one? just one fucking time of the hundreds youve been seriously injured? are you kidding me?” he begins standing and walking towards you, stopping a few inches from your face. “i didnt see you for months because you went on that stupid mission that almost got you killed! ” he says loudly. “what about the time you decided to be a hero and go back for that woman? or the time you jumped in front of me? you are lucky to be alive.” he says pointing at you as he stares daggers into your eyes. you’re no pussy, so you stand staring back at him, not breaking eye contact for a second. he’s breathing heavily, his arms hanging loosely. your pissed, but even when the rage he fuels you with is flowing in your veins, you have to admit hes beautiful. he has a tall, slender but purely muscular frame. his jet black hair is messy but purposely, it sits softly framing his face. his bright eyes gleam in the sun light, as the bright beams bounce around the room, reflecting off the perfectly polished button on his jacket. but by far, one of his best features, were his lips. never dry, always perfectly plump and a soft pink colour, even though he bit them when he was angry, uncomfortable or nervous. you allow yourself a swift momentary glance at his lips. his breathing hitches for a moment. shit. he noticed. he looks at yours. shit. hes still breathing as if hes angry, the rage from before still sitting with you both. you continue breathing heavily and staring at each other, but the anger is slowly fading. it seems to be replaced by something else, something deeper. lust?

in the blink of an eye, he grips your face from above as he steps forwards and kisses you roughly. you grip the sides of his neck as you continue. he moves his hands slowly downward to your hips as you press yourself to his chest. you pull closer and suck his lip gently, clearly igniting something within him. you place your leg upwards towards his hip as he moves his hands to your thighs, lifting you up and onto the counter by the wall. he moves his hands to your hips and pulling you closer to him. you grab his hair in your hand, pulling his face as close as it could possibly be to your own. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull his hips against your own. he kisses you harder, and you let out a small hum at the feeling.

suddenly, he pulls his mouth from yours, a string of saliva between you. he looks drunk, eyes droopy and hair messy. he kisses you one more, but softer, much more tender this time. he holds your face in his hands and you place your own over top. he pulls away once more and rests his forehead against your own. “please be careful,” he mumbles, placing his face in the crook of your neck. your hands find his again, and you turn your head slightly so he can hear. “i’ll try,” you say quietly back.

he lets out a sigh of relief.

#jjk #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #make out #angst #yelling #oneshot #megumi x reader #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro x reader #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #fushi

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judesmoonbeauty · 1 month

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Fairytale Final Assessment 1st Anniversary SE: Jude Jazza's POV Chapter 2 ཐིཋྀ

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere.

Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Hour Glass Banners Credit: @/natimiles ཐིཋྀ

I glared at Kate at a distance where the tips of our noses touched.

(Ha…….Really, not good.)

(Her eyes.)

Despite being pinned down and being shown the overwhelming difference in power, Kate’s eyes never gave up.

She glared at me too straight on, with a glow in them.

(……Ah, something like this happened before.)

She was kidnapped on my birthday, and had collapsed because she didn’t leak any information about me.

When I saw her injured, my core went completely cold.

FLASH BACK TO HIS BD STORY

Jude: As ya said, I'm threatenin’ ya now.

Jude: But ...... I could snap your neck in an instant. Besides, the people I'm dealin’ with won't even hesitate.

Jude: If you're aware that you're being pushed away, I'm sure a smart young lady would know what to do.

Kate: I would have stayed out of it if I could have.......

Jude: But?

Kate: Every time we go on a mission together or escape from a predicament, I realize various things and change.

Kate: I don't mind that kind of change in myself.

FLASH BACK ENDS

I don't remember being kind to her or taking care of her carefully.

There have been times when she looked at death.

She has learned so much that she can no longer be called a “naive young lady.”

Despite this, she is a brazen woman with annoying eyes who maintains her clean side even when she knows of dirty maliciousness.

(I know I like this girl.)

(It’s interesting to see the fighting spirit that comes from her, but…)

(If I don't kick her out now... one day...she’ll die.)

(Then, why don't I draw the line here?)

I put my hand around Kate’s neck and squeeze it tighter than I did that day.

Kate: …..Ts…….ah.

Jude: I told ya before that when your carotid artery is constricted, ya instantly can't breathe.

Jude: Are ya scared? Is it painful?

Jude: If you're going to give up here, I'll make it easy for ya, but what are ya goin’ to do?

Kate: Oh……ugh.

Jude: I can't hear anything. Could ya speak more clearly?

When I applied more force and tried to knock Kate unconscious, Kate’s arm suddenly pushed me away.

Kate: Cough….cough……

Jude: Ha, you’re so powerful.

Kate: Again, please!

Jude: ………

(This girl, really?)

After that, Kate kept coming back to fight again and again.

Perhaps Ellis couldn't bear to see it, and suggested another game,

Even so, I still ate many episodes…..***

Kate: …….

Jude: Ha, ya look exhausted.

Jude: There's no need for me to sign the consent form. Why don't ya give up quietly and pack your things?

Kate: There's still time until today ends.

Kate: I won't give up until you sign it.

Ellis: Kate…..

(She really is a stubborn woman. There's no end to it.)

It's not that I didn't imagine this would happen.

Jude: I don't want to be with ya forever. Let's go settle the matter.

Kate: This is the port where you manage the logistics depot, right Jude?

Jude: As ya know, we rent our warehouses to others with interest.

Jude: There was a man there who was making a living doin’ bad business.

Kate: I'm sure... something like that happened before, right?

Kate: He was using Jude's warehouse for human trafficking...a man with a bowler hat!

Ellis: That's when Kate was with Jude for the first time.

Jude: What a good memory!

Kate: I was attacked and almost killed, so even though I hate it, I will never forget it.

Kate: So, since you brought me here, you're trying to make me do something, right?

Jude: There’s a guy who has done something similar to that man in the bowler hat.

Jude: He’s got some classified documents hidden somewhere in a warehouse up ahead.

Jude: Get me those classified documents and then we'll talk.

Kate: I’ll find the classified documents that’ll benefit you, Jude.

Kate: If I find them, will you sign it?

Jude: That’s what I’m sayin’.

Jude: I’m not patient, I’ll only wait until midnight.

Kate: I understand. Your promise is absolute.

Ellis: Kate, so you want me to follow you?

Kate: Thank you, Ellis. But this is my game, and I'll do my best on my own.

With that said, Kate ran away from the scene.

Ellis: A guy doing bad business in a warehouse who is hiding classified documents. Just like the one I killed yesterday……..

Ellis: Jude, no way!

Jude: No, of course not. There is no such person or classified document anywhere.

Jude: She’s gonna keep looking for something that's not there, and at midnight, I'm gonna call it a night.

Ellis: It's like Cinderella in bad taste.

Jude: The best fairy tale mistake.

Lighting a cigarette, I inhale the smoke deeply into my lungs, and exhale.

(Now she’s washed her hands from Crown with this.)***

(This is a happy ending. It's a lukewarm happy ending that suits her.)

He tossed the shortened cigarette to the ground and stomped it down with his foot.

The on-site supervisor came running towards me, the color of his complexion changed.

Supervisor: Mr. Jude, why are you here? I’ve been trying to contact you!

Jude: What happened?

Supervisor: You remember that guy you sent to the lab for illegal human trafficking here before.

Ellis: Is that.….that's the guy in the bowler hat who Kate was talking about earlier, isn't it?

Supervisor: That man escaped from the lab and attacked a weapons store. He killed the clerk and stole a gun...

Supervisor: As he was escaping he said he was going to kill Jude Jazza!

Jude: ………

Supervisor: The man's goal is revenge against you. Please run away and hide yourself quickly…..

FLASH BACK

Jude: We had a contract that said you couldn't buy or sell humans, right?

Bowler Hat Man: I'm hoping you'll let me off the hook there.

Bowler Hat Man: Well, even poor people can sell at a good price.

Bowler Hat Man: It'll line your pockets and clean up this docklands cesspool that is the Port of London.

Jude: ……….

Bowler Hat Man: You, who love other people's misfortune and money, will let me off the hook, won't you?

Bowler Hat Man: If you agree, your lover will be returned to you unharmed.

FLASHBACK ENDS

(He’s seen Kate’s face.）

Jude:…..Damn, how bad can her luck be?

Supervisor: Oh, hey, Mr. Jude, where are you going?

Ellis: Jude!

Running through the bay, I opened the doors of the warehouses with a fine-tooth comb.

(……Where the hell is she?)

Then I heard a noise in one of the warehouses.

When I opened the door to the warehouse, I found-

[Previous] [Bitter End] [Premium End] [Master List]

***HELP! I could not t/l this line to save my life! It’s a simple sentence (?), but it literally said he was consuming editions. I managed to t/l it into “episodes” after a lot of research. I believe he is implying that because Kate keeps coming back to spar with him, he is comparing each fight to an episode and consuming it as his win and her loss??

*** 足 denotes leg or foot. 洗 denotes cleansed, scoured, wash. So, I decided to nix leg/foot and use hands as an alt since westerners are more familiar with that term.

#ikemen villains #Ikemen villains translations #ikevil #ikevil translations #jude jazza #ikevil jude #ikemen jude #ikemen jude jazza #cybird translations #ikevil spoilers #ikevil jp #ikevil jp spoilers #Jude Jazza POV

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rottenpumpkin13 · 17 days

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How would Sephiroth feel if Cloud was related to him?

Assuming this is an AU scenario where Hojo is Cloud's biological father. He found Claudia "attractive enough to birth a hero," but it never went anywhere because Cloud was a weak, sickly baby.

Sephiroth found out about Cloud's parentage when he came across a file on him in Hojo's archives.

Sephiroth can't leave Cloud alone now. He has a brother.

He's always lurking now when the troopers have their training sessions with Angeal, or looking just a bit too long whenever they happen to be on the same assignment.

He's always watching, letting the curiosity slowly consume him. He wants to know what Cloud's life was like growing up in the mountains, far away from Hojo and Shinra, with a mother who loves him. He's envious, wondering if his own life would've been any different if Hojo rejected him at birth. Cloud wasn't subjected to the same things he was, and Sephiroth is both grateful and bitter.

As envious as he is, he's also enraged. How dare Hojo rob him of his brother? His own family? They were supposed to grow up together, to be by each other's side through everything. They were This isn't fair. And now here Cloud is, working for Shinra too. Yet they're still apart.

So he makes the impulse decision to corner Cloud one morning and show him everything that he found. Imagine his shock when Cloud reveals he knew Professor Hojo was his biological father, but his mother warned him of how he was, making Cloud never want anything to do with him.

Sephiroth asks him if he's aware that Hojo is his biological father.

To say Cloud is shocked is putting it lightly. He's floored, but not because Sephiroth is Hojo's son, but because he's related to Sephiroth.

After a long talk where they both get to know each other better and establish that they're brothers no matter what, Cloud insists that Sephiroth come back to Nibelheim and meet Claudia.

Lucky for them, there's a certain mission to Nibelheim that makes for a perfect opportunity.

While Cloud is usually prone to motion-sickness, be barely feels it on the ride to Nibelheim. He's too busy talking and laughing with Sephiroth to notice the bumps and turns on the road that would usually make his stomach churn.

Zack is happy for both of them—Cloud, for having a brother, and Sephiroth for having any family at all. They've been inseparable since finding out they're related, with Sephiroth going as far as inviting Cloud to stay over at his place and giving Cloud expressed permission to stay in his apartment.

Claudia and Sephiroth meet as soon as they arrive. Sephiroth grows to like her immediately. She's warm, nurturing, and quick to treat Sephiroth with the care he was denied as a child.

He asks Claudia if there's any chance that she knew his mother, Jenova. Claudia mentions how she remembers seeing a woman that matched her description around the village a few times years ago.

Now that Sephiroth knows he wasn't crazy when he found Nibelheim familiar, he needs to know more.

She explains how Hojo and the entirety of Shinra's research team stayed at the old Shinra Mansion right outside the village. She directs him there if he wants to find more information.

Sephiroth neglects sleep that evening in favor of exploring the Shinra mansion in search of clues. Cloud insists on coming with him, but Sephiroth is adamant that he stay and prepare for their mission the next day.

Sephiroth heads for the Shinra mansion, where he finds the library.

In the end, not even Cloud can stop the inevitable. No matter how much he screams and begs and tries to reason with his justifiably enraged brother.

But brotherhood matters little when you're the holy son, the chosen one set to inherit the planet alongside your loving mother.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ffvii crisis core #ff7 crisis core #cloud strife #au

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 11 months

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Why Hobie's chucks?

I had seen a lot of people question how she can fit in those shoes, and some to say that their relationship is actually deeper because of this, however my mind has been going in other directions.

For example, why those?

Let me start with one thing: We have no idea how many things Gwen owns, and what is actually hers.

Considering the fact that at the end of the movie she went to get the polaroid she had with Miles, I think is safe to say that she didn't go back to the apartment to retrieve any of her belongings, meaning the things she had that were hers previously was probably only the things she carried with her, that is her suit, and her ballerina shoes.

I bring this show because we can see that she is using her ballerina shows in the first movie, and aside of the Vision's academy uniform, the only other thing we saw her use in the first movie is her spider suit, which she was transported with.

This makes sense because being at the academy she could probably find a uniform on the school store or similar, shoes perhaps was a bit more complicated.

(She also appears to use them while she was presenting herself, seeing on a flashback. This could be that either she was fresh out of a spider-woman mission and didn't have another shoes; or the animators didn't see the point in designing shoes for a scene that wasn't going to show them for more than 2 seconds.)

However while looking back at the beginning of the movie, Gwen is using chucks, same or similar colour too.

(Animation wise, they are probably the same shoes.)

Okay, this confirms us that she likes chucks, and is part of her style; so she probably took the shoes because she likes that type, right?

Yes, except that here is the thing: Why?

When she battles, she uses the pointe ballet shoes, in fact even if you see her using chuck's earlier in the movie, she is switches to her ballet shoes for the fight with Vulture. Even if we see her using the chucks later in the movie while she is in her spider-suit, that was after she got called out for not doing her duty, so she probably didn't have them handy.

However, even if we know that she went to Earth-1610 to catch the Spot (meaning she should be gearing for battle,) it was only the excuse she used so she could go to this universe without getting in trouble. After all, she opened the portal DIRECTLY to Miles.

Okay, after this point is going to be more speculation/theory than analysis, so feel free to take it with a grain of salt.

Hear me out.

Now, we have NO idea how the Spider Society operates in terms of money, food, etc. We don't have an idea if Gwen is getting paid (how that would even work? It would be money from Earth-928?) we can assume she stays there to sleep at least, even if she still crashes Hobie's universe.

But in terms of her wardrobe or how to get a new one, we have no clue; it could also be that even if she gets paid, she doesn't like to use the clothes that are in Miguel's universe; I wouldn't be shocked that there aren't any.

And we establish that she likes those converse, right? Part of her style, probably something she likes to use to you know, daily live, seen friends, looking good for someone.

Also, what else Hobie said before he asked if those were his chucks?

So, she left a sweater, her toothbrush, and took Hobie's shoes.

Considering she left her toothbrush, it probably means she was there fairly recently; however she also left a sweater and we know she had a cardigan with her when she went to visit Miles.

I think everyone can see where I am going with this, but to put the cherry on top-

Hobie knew that was Miles.

Now, could he had known just because Gwen probably told him about Miles, however he also should know that 1) No way in hell he should be able to travel to another dimensions since he doesn't have a watch, 2) He just saw him, he cannot even go with the description because the suit is different that the one Gwen saw him last time, even if is a small change.

Not to mention that hey, she opened the portal directly to Miles, right? Woudln't that be something they would had notice if she went directly from HQ to him? She probably needed to put some special coordinates because she didn't even know Miles was in his home when she came to see him, just that he was there.

So with all those pieces, what's my theory?

Gwen went to Hobie's universe to get ready, to get some stuff from him (since their styles are probably closer that whatever the heck they have in 2099) and maybe to also to avoid been seen by the organization. And in a rush, she mentioned to Hobie that she would see Miles, and probably not much else since she left so much crap there and the guy didn't even realize she took his shoes.

Again, a lot of this is speculation, but the idea of this girl going to get those shoes to look nice when she met Miles again, JUST to have him be jealous about it-

I had been taking breaks to laugh while writing this post; I love these idiots I swear.

#ghostflower #gwiles #gwen stacy #miles morales #hobie brown #atsv spoilers #across the spiderverse spoilers #atsv #across the spiderverse #ghostflower files

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blingblong55 · 9 months

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Two Ghosts- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

F!Reader, angst, fluff,

We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

A man and a woman. One is nicknamed Ghost the other is a literal ghost, one home, one heart beating for two.

Simon and you were in a serious relationship before your death, it was what made him feel normal and after your death, all he could think about was dying. That is until you started to haunt him, it started in the flat you two shared many moons ago. To be honest he kinda liked having your ghost around, having you move things around and keep him entertained.

"R/N! I mean it, I need my mask, where is it?" he kept looking around the place, You giggled and walked around, moving from place to place. You didn't want him to leave, wanted him home just the two of you. "R/N, please darling I have to go to work," his voice soft. You magically appeared behind him, waving the mask in front of his face. He sighs and takes it, it's not that you bothered him but it's more than he wished he could touch you, to have your warmth around him. "I can still go, right?" You kindly asked and appeared on the sofa. "You know, wherever I go you go, so of course you can come, my love."

No one knew that this is how he has been kept sane since your death and no one would understand that the ghost of his dead girlfriend literally roams the Earth with him. If word got out he talks to you, he would be honourably discharged from the military and he would be forced to go back to his meds. It wasn't every day he believed in such things but after you made contact with him, he likes to keep you around.

Wherever he went, you did too. On a mission? There you went, ran around the field and told him where the enemies were, No one but him could see you, that is what made him think he was going mad. How can he see and hear you but no one else can? Was it time to really just take his meds?

Date nights were different now, if you wanted something romantic but still to fit the whole 'My dead girlfriend and I still talk and I am taking her out' vibe, you'd simply ask him to visit your grave. It was quite cute, you and him, having a picnic in front of the tombstone that carried your name.

Today was the same as usual, he had two weeks off work and he planned to spend them all on you. So, as the usual routine now, you and him go on that date. You were his special little ghost, that was what he always called you, and for such a special someone, he had to plan the perfect date. The location for the most romantic grave date in the history of the world... For his girl...

He was never the one to bring flowers to your grave, not even at the funeral. What he brought, that gloomy day was a skull balaclava because, without you, he is no longer Simon. Like you, he is a ghost but unlike you, he is a living ghost.

We're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

"My love, I'll bring flowers, I've never done this before though, so I might make a mess." He admitted in a mumble.

"But I'll try my best. You're worth the time and effort." he truthfully says.

'I love you, little human." The irony of it all, you and your nicknames for him.

"I love you too, my special little ghost." he smiles a little as he watches you run around the graveyard, trying to find your final resting place. That dress you wore, even dead you looked as beautiful as the day he lost you. He walks to a merchant, "Can I have your best roses?" he asks, already spotting the best.

The merchant handed him the flowers, "Visiting your mum?" It was typical, to see sons around this time of year. After paying he started to walk inside the graveyard. It was weird, having to pay for flowers to put on a grave. Your grave. Was this normal? Now, he had the flowers and he was going to give them to you with pride. Once he saw you kneel in front of your grave, he walked in that direction.

You look up at him, "What are those for?" you question the flowers in his hands. "For your grave." he softly says, Oh that innocent sound in his voice, what a delight.

"I thought it would be nice to bring them for our grave date" He adds.

"Thank you." You smile and watch as he creates the perfect picnic for you both. You touch your tombstone, fingers trailing the message he had made for it.

'A friend, lover and the most beautiful soul. You will forever be missed, my love.'

"Alright, now let's enjoy this time, my love." he smiles and sits down. To be honest, although he enjoys you being around as a ghost, he wished he could have one last hug, just one little kiss and maybe just one last warm bed.

All of a sudden, a memory, flashes through him. The first date he took you on as a ghost. A lake not too far from home. How you swam in the water and left no ripple behind, back then you could only be seen not to leave any mark that you were there as a ghost. He watches from shore before jumping in and swimming to you.

"Gosh, the water is perfect!" you exclaimed.

"I'm glad you're not too bothered by the water, my love." he softly spoke. "I feel alive, Simon." You look at him and swim closer.

How he wished to hold you in his arms that day. "You make me feel like I'm alive," you swam closer.

"I like it, when you feel happy, when you feel alive and I just wish I had you, for just a little longer."

"I'll always be around, you know?"

"Yes, I know, it's just if I could have you back, if it was possible I could get you back, I'd do it." The sadness in his voice was too much for you not to notice. You cup his face, neither of you can feel it, no warmth that radiates.

"I promise, I'd do it in a heartbeat." He sounded like a scared little boy and at the end of the day, that is who he was, scared and alone. You frown as you stare at his beautiful soft eyes. "You don't have be be sad, my love...I hate it when you feel sad." Why can't he just have you? Are the Gods enjoying his suffering? Is this why he can never have something good for just himself?

"R/N, you don't have to be sorry for being dead, it's not your fault."

"I know, it's just...I feel like if I was alive we could do so much more." Is this what the poets wrote when they felt sad? Two souls apart that are meant for the other but the goddamned Gods love to see the pain they have caused. From splashes to swimming competitions, that day was as normal and beautiful as possible.

"Simon?" you brought him back to reality, he smiled as he looked at you, touching the flowers he brought here.

"Yes, my love?"

"You make me feel like I still have a beating heart, something I haven't felt since I died...I love you, Simon." Anytime you said those magical three words, it was like the first time all over again. A confession that happened years ago and those three words still make him excited and emotional.

He was your heart, beating and living for both of you. What a life did he have ahead of himself.

I'm just trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

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queenshelby · 1 year

Text

Forbidden Desire (Part One)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warning: Symptoms of PTSD, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Self-Harm, Prostitution, Violence, Fluff, Mild Smut, Drug & Alcohol Abuse

Warning for later parts: Smut, Incest

Words: 4,894

Summary:

This plays after Grace’s death but before Tommy becomes a politician. Lizzie is pregnant with Tommy’s child, so it is somewhere around season four.

In this fic, Tommy suffers from episodes of PTSD and so does the reader, resulting from trauma and abuse. They will help and save each other without realising that their connection is much stronger than they could have anticipated.

There will be love, fluff and smut as well as a highly taboo relationship.

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

His Pain: Tommy’s POV

“If only you could change” were the words engraved in his thoughts until the cold finally woke him. Not the frigid-temperature kind, but the kind of cold that sends shivers down one’s spine, rattling their bones and it is this kind of cold that is embedded in his very being.

It is a cruel kind of cold, the lonely kind and it has gotten worse over the past two years, ever since his wife was shot and died in his arms. She was a beautiful woman who he had loved with all of his heart and, now that she was gone, his pain had returned.

It felt like the sharp pressing of metal against one’s flesh, burying deeper and deeper and it felt different and yet the same every night.

Night? No, it did not just happen at night now anymore. It happened during the day too. Almost every day and every time that business was not on his mind. Business was what kept him going but, often, it was not enough.

There was not enough to do these days now that Tommy had built his empire and wealth and the wealth of his family. He no longer had a mission or purpose to fulfill and this was exactly what made his episodes and hallucinations so much worse.

Sometimes he imagined the shovels in France scarping away the wall paper inside his bedroom or bombs going off by his side whereas, at other times, he saw her. His late wife, Grace, with a bullet lodged in her chest, bleeding to death as he held on to her.

She even spoke to him these days, blaming him for her death and begging him to join her in the afterlife. But he did not. For Tommy, there was not yet a way out. He had a son to worry about and, just recently, Lizzie informed him that, soon, he would become a father yet again, for the second time around.

Tommy often remembered the times when, once, he had it all. He had both, love and wealth. But now that love was gone, life seemed more meaningless to him and it was the drugs and alcohol which helped him forget his pain and grief and now and then. Occasionally, whores helped him too but sex wasn’t quite enough either without love. It was more like a sport for him now, one he soon grew tired of.

Tommy had not slept dreamlessly, without fear and without waking to fresh pains, in years and this is exactly what happened tonight when the clock struck ten.

Following some booze and a few drops of opium, he went to sleep early, around five o’clock in the afternoon after having arrived back home from America where, as usual, Tommy had business matters to attend to.

He was jetlagged and hungover, killing his intrusive thoughts with whiskey yet again. Coupled with drugs, it usually helped but it never lasted long until agony returned in it’s fullest form, betraying him and his sense of security.

Attempts to slow his now laboured breathing, to still the small tremors of fear racking his aching body, were futile now again and it is then, by means of his shivering, that Tommy noticed the borderline painful press of sharp metal against his tongue.

It was just a feeling of course. There was nothing there and he knew as much, but yet, he could not control it. The feeling itself was restricting his movement and whilst he tried very hard to be quiet in his paralysed state, this time, he could not.

His lips burned and there was an unforgettable biting pain shooting through his face, all the way to the top of the head. All he could think about then was the pain, misery and coldness in his body and he though ‘please make it stop’.

He pleaded then, even speaking the words ‘stop’ but it did not, until, finally Frances had taken notice and came to his aid.

Sweat was running down his body, covering him almost completely and when Frances took his hand, he gasped.

‘Mr Shelby. I think you should see a doctor’ she told him again as he sat up and reached for the half empty glass of whiskey by his side.

‘No Frances. I know what this is. No man can cure it. It is a curse’ he told her and she nodded shyly, not wanting to argue with her superior.

‘Shall I run you a bath sir?’ she asked, knowing that this was often what he would do after one of these episodes.

‘No, I will take a shower and head out for the night. Please ensure that Charlie gets up before eight. He has piano lessons in the morning’ Tommy then said before jumping off the sofa which is where he had fallen asleep earlier that evening.

‘Yes Mr Shelby’ Frances confirmed while looking at the half empty bottle of opium before, finally, intending to give him some privacy. But, before she left, she said something which took Tommy by surprise.

‘Something must change sir. Or, perhaps, you must change. You cannot go on like this. Not with a young child in the house and another on the way’ Frances told him.

‘If only I could change, eh? That is what everyone tells me Frances. But the truth is, I can’t. I can’t fucking change’ Tommy sighed in response.

He knew that had to change his ways as his opium and alcohol intake increased with every day but no one had a cure for this disease and, thus, Tommy kept on going the way he did until, one day, he would meet a woman again and this woman was going to give him purpose once more.

There was a cure and the cure was her. A woman who did not want nor need him to change. But she, too, needed saving from herself.

The Woman: Your POV

‘Why could some people be themselves without consequences?’ was the question you asked yourself every day since you were able to comprehend what your life would be all about. A turmoil of pain, hurt and suffering.

For years you had suffered and for years you believed that it was you who was at fault of your own suffering as you were reminded of the burden you had placed upon your mother since you were born.

‘In to the closet, you bastard child’ was what you had heard your stepfather yell at you every time he came home drunk and, just after he yelled at you, he locked you in to the cabinet so that he could beat up your mother. Sometimes, he did even more than that, forcing himself upon her and you watched from the far, feeling helpless and ashamed.

Was this how women should be treated, you wondered? Was it normal for a man to behave like this? Was it really because of you? Because you were born?

According to your stepfather, he drank because of you. Because you were a burden to him, he had t numb himself simply so that he could deal with your presence. The fact that he had to look after you, the offspring of another man, disgusted him and the worst of it all was that your mother was unable to bare children again following your birth. This, too, was your fault and he reminded you of this every day.

Once, he pulled your hair so hard that it came out of your skin before throwing you into the closet again, which is where you stayed for two days without any food or water.

This is when you finally had enough and told the police about the assaults but, since your stepfather was a well-known business man, they did not believe you. No one did. Not even your teacher or the girls you called friends.

For years, you had unimaginable pain on the inside that would ache worse than a broken bone and this was because of what he did to you when you were a child.

You felt crushed by a torrent of pain as well as loneliness as you were prohibited from socialising with others. But, even if you had socialised with others, you would never have fitted in. Others always judged you for who you were, dressed in old clothes and broken shoes while living in a wealthy London suburb.

You often had no food as your stepfather drank away the money and, eventually, the house. So, you began to steal and, oh boy, you learned that quickly. You had a natural talent for stealing things but that, too, landed you in trouble and when you were eventually found out, your stepfather belted you fairly hard.

In the end, following so much violence, you became violent yourself. You became angry and volatile towards others and you indiscriminately hated and resented everyone, the entire world.

Later though, the anger would turn into sadness and the waterworks would turn on by themselves no matter how hard you fought them, and you would weep in the middle of the night, thinking that no one should see you like this.

Finally, there were times you seemed so numb that you did not feel anything at all and this is when it happened. You inflicted pain upon yourself so that you could feel at least something. You wanted to feel alive and pain was all you knew, which, absurdly, to you was better than feeling nothing at all.

Eventually though, during the last few years before your stepfather went into hiding for reasons unknown to you and your mother moved to the slums, it became just about surviving for you. You knew that you had to claw your way through this time until you could leave the hell hole in which you were living in.

You began to lose sight of who you were and what your purpose was. Purpose, as well as your hopes and dreams, seemed impossible. Finding someone to love was far too risky and dangerous to you. You did not trust anyone and the concept of love was rather foreign to you.

So, you became afraid to believe in anything, including love, and you developed a hunger deep inside of you that would not go away. The hunger to run away. Far far away.

In the end, you chose a place where you knew you would be able to find work easily and this place was called Birmingham. It was the workers and labourers capital of the UK and you took up a lodging in Small Heath much to the dismay of your mother who grew up in this very same area.

‘Birmingham is dangerous’ she told you, causing you to laugh.

‘You made me live with a man who is dangerous mother!’ you reminded her but she defended your stepfather nonetheless.

‘You can stay with me. He is gone now’ she offered, but you shook your head.

‘He is gone and see where you are? In the slums of Camden Town, working in a god damn liquor factory’ you told her, reminding her that, following your stepfather’s departure, the house you were living in got foreclosed and she had to return to work.

‘But what matters is that he is gone, right’ she told you again, not wanting you to go, but you had already made up your mind.

‘That should have mattered to you when I was young and defenceless. He left when I was merely seventeen and had he not disappeared so abruptly already, I would have gone somewhere else myself’ you said with a stern voice before correcting yourself.

‘Actually, no, I would not have gone anywhere until I killed him after he tried to rape me’ you pointed out and, again, your mother defended his actions.

‘He was intoxicated’ she argued but you chuckled.

‘He was, but I wish that I had killed when I had the chance’ you told her.

‘He is blind in one eye because of you’ your mother reminded you.

‘He deserves that’ you spat. ‘Should I not have defended myself?’ you then asked.

‘You are like your father and this worries me. He was a bad man’ your mother lectured and she did this every time you did something wrong.

‘You said that before and, yet, you told me that he died in France, for his fucking country, all while made me live with a man who was a monster’ you told her but she wanted to abandon this discission all together as it soon was time for you to leave.

‘Just promise me that you will stay away from the factories in Small Heath. Don’t work there. Please’ she begged and you nodded before giving her a hug.

‘I have experience in waitressing so that is what I intend to do mum’ you told her without telling her that, in truth, you already had a job lined up, in a brothel south of Small Heath.

This particular establishment was frequented by the rich and wealthy men, even politicians and sergeants on occasion, and you had a plan on how to make more money quickly.

The Brothel: Two Month Later

Thomas Shelby has not frequented this establishment for a while despite owning it but, tonight, following his episode, he required some distraction.

Usually, he would see one of the regular girls, like Laura or Clara but, tonight, he was in the mood for someone else, someone new, and when he walked into his establishment, you immediately caught his attention.

Dressed in a dark green satin dress and silver coloured heels, you stood there, serving some other customers their drinks. Your hair was long and wavy and you wore the perfect amount of make-up, not too much but noticeable.

You looked classy, not cheap. But you also did not look like a whore and the men in this establishment were at your feet. Most of them wanted to sample you but you were not interested in this line of work. You only served drinks and refused to take money for sex.

‘Is she new?’ Tommy asked the manager of his establishment as he came to greet him. He pointed over to you and this, in itself, caught your attention. a

‘Yes sir, but she is not one of our working girls. She works here as a waitress’ the manager said as he showed Tommy to his table which is where he would usually drink a cocktail first before indulging on one of the working girls.

‘Is she inclined to negotiate her terms of employment?’ Tommy then asked, wanting you to service him. There was something about you that intrigued him and he recalled the first time when he laid eyes on his late wife, Grace. It was a similar kind of feeling, but stronger. There was an instant desire and lust which he now had the urge to satisfy.

‘You could ask sir. But, from what I have heard, Mr Artens already offered her a substantial amount of money last night and she declined’ the manager then said before suggesting that he would send you over to him to take his drink order.

***

Seeing the men looking at you and talking with each other, you realised what it was that they were discussing. The same thing had happened several times over the past few weeks and, whilst unlike Mr Artens, you could see yourself sleeping with a man as attractive as the one speaking to the manager right now, taking money for sex was not an option for you.

Not only did you have no experience when it came to sex as, after what had happened to you in the past, you have not been with a man before, but also did payment for sex contradict your morals.

Several customers who you knew about were abusing the working girls and this, soon, became of great concern to you. This was exactly why you despised this line of work and those who enabled it.

‘You caught his attention’ Martha, a fellow waitress eventually said and you already knew who she was talking about.

‘Who is he?’ you asked her, realising that he appeared important.

‘Thomas Shelby. He owns most properties and businesses in town, including this one. You must be careful’ Martha warned you and you immediately became concerned after having spiked the drinks of three men that night.

‘Fuck’ you gasped before hiding the small bottle of sleeping drops in the empty gun holster beneath your dress.

‘Who did you give the drops to?’ Martha panicked and you pointed to a group of policemen in the corner.

‘Them, over there. They are trouble. They have been here before and gave Louisa a bloody nose’ you explained and since the three men were already becoming rather tired, Martha panicked as well.

‘He might notice’ she said but, just as she did, the manager came over and approached you, directing you to take Thomas Shelby’s order.

***

Of course, you complied with the manager’s request and walked over towards the handsome stranger with a smile.

‘Good Evening, Sir’ you greeted him professionally and he smiled, which was a smile that almost knocked you off your feet. He sure was handsome, you thought and, what you did not know at the time was that he was also one of the most feared gangsters in all of Birmingham and surround.

‘What can I get for you?’ you then asked, waiting for him to make you an offer so that you could decline it.

‘That depends’ he said sharply while offering you seat and a cigarette.

‘I am working’ you told him, declining both.

‘You are and, since I own this establishment, I would like you to sit down and talk to me’ he then said abruptly and, after considering your options, you complied with his request and accepted the cigarette.

‘You are new’ he observed and you nodded shyly while he lid the cigarette for you.

‘I am new, yes’ you told him.

‘Where are you from?’ he then asked and, again, you only gave him a short answer.

‘London’ you told him.

‘And what brings a woman like you to a place like Birmingham?’ he then asked smugly before calling another waitress over in order to get a drink.

‘Opportunities’ you told him and he smiled again, this time more sarcastically.

‘Opportunities, eh?’ he chuckled before making an observation.

‘That’s funny’ he said before carrying on. ‘My late wife used to own this very same dress. I paid for it and it was rather expensive, so I thought that, either you are rich and bored or a thief and opportunist. You just confirmed the latter’ he then told you, causing you to gasp in shock. He saw right through you, although you did not know how this was possible.

‘I am not a thief’ you began to stammer and he quickly leaned closer towards you.

‘Don’t worry Love. I do not care if the dress is stolen nor do I care if you are a thief so long as you do not steal from me’ he interrupted you and you swallowed harshly without saying a word.

‘Now, as to your question about what you could get for me…’ he then began to say while the waitress brought over his drink and placed it on to the table, right in front of him. It was whiskey, on the rocks and this, too, did not surprise you.

Eventually then, after taking a sip, he continued the sentence with ‘…that depends entirely on what you are willing to offer’ and you realised where this was going.

‘I am not for sale Mr Shelby’ you thus quickly said to end the conversation right then and there but, again, he smiled smugly.

‘You haven’t even heard my offer yet’ he thus responded bluntly.

‘There is no need to hear it. I do not take money for sex’ you then told him and he quickly backed off, accepting your morals. He knew that, if he wanted you, he needed to work for it and just as he considered his options again, one of the three men you drugged walked over towards you both.

It was obvious to you that he was angry. You had drugged him and stolen from him twice by now and, just as he began to yell abusive words, you jumped up from your seat and tried to run away.

Unbeknownst to you, however, Thomas Shelby had acquaintances in unusual places and, just as you tried to leave the establishment abruptly via the fire exit, you were held back by a much younger man.

He took a hold of you and, just as he did, the man you had just met followed and grabbed your wrist.

‘You are thief after all, eh’ Thomas Shelby said while pushing you against the wall and it was at this point that you panicked.

‘Let go of me’ you said almost hysterically even though he was not really hurting you. He used force, but not enough to even leave a mark. ‘You are hurting me’ you then yelled again, kicked and screamed and, whilst Thomas was unsure about your overwhelming and aggressive reaction and where this might lead, he loosened his grip.

‘You are hurting my business by stealing from my customers’ he then told you and you kicked him, hard, right into the left side of the stomach.

‘Don’t touch me’ you spat, tears running down your face.

‘Calm down woman’ the other man told you while Tommy gasped for breath momentarily while never letting go of you.

‘If I let go of you, will you talk to me?’ he then asked. ‘You won’t run away, eh?’ he even clarified and you nodded, in tears.

‘Yes. Just let go of me. Please. I am begging you’ you breathed as another panic attack was near.

‘Very well then’ Tommy thus said as he dropped his hands, letting go of your wrists.

‘Those men are evil. Do you even know what they do to these girls?’ you then said through laboured breathing before reaching for your gun holster and, just as you did, both men pulled their guns at you.

‘I am not armed. I just…I…I have this…’ you stammered before retrieving the small bottle of sleeping drops you had tucked away and handing it to Thomas Shelby.

‘You drugged my customers?’ he ought to clarify and you nodded reluctantly.

“Like I said, these men are evil. They are much less of a problem if they are not fully conscious” you pointed out and, while Tommy took the bottle from you and guided you back to where you were sitting, the manager argued with the three somewhat sleepy gentlemen.

‘So, you drug them and then you steal from them?’ he clarified once more and you nodded again.

‘I only drug the men who are known to be violent’ you explained.

‘There have not been any reports of violence towards…’ Tommy began to say, but you interrupted him.

‘Because they pay off your managers so that they would keep their mouths shut! Are you that fucking blind?’ you asked while taking his glass of whiskey from his hands and sculling the lot.

Then, for a moment, he was quiet and just listened.

‘The man over there, he belted one of your women and then paid off the mistress who used to work here so that she would keep her mouth shut’ you said and Tommy looked at the man who, in turn, demanded him to take action.

And this was exactly what Tommy did. He took action, by walking over towards him and punching him in the face. His nose broke and a loud scream escaped him.

Tommy then held onto the man, fisting his shirt and whispering something into his ear. It must have been something of significance as the man began to tremble in fear, which is when, finally, Tommy let go off him.

‘If you disrespect any of my employees again, I will do more than just break your fucking nose, eh! Now get the fuck out of my establishment!’ Tommy yelled before briefing the other customers, informing them that abuse towards the women who work in his brothel, was not acceptable.

His demur and attitude surprised you and, when he was done and snapped out of his antic, he sat back down and cleaned off his fist.

‘Now that this issue has been addressed for now, I want to know what really brought you here, to this establishment’ Tommy said and you nodded again before explaining yourself.

‘I needed a job and no one else would take me’ you admitted, seeing that you had next to no credentials.

‘So you came here, eh?’ he asked and, once more, you nodded shyly.

‘Yes, but working here, just as a waitress, does not even cover my bills. I needed more money, so I started stealing from the people who come here’ you admitted and, by this point, his acquaintance had already handed him your employment contract.

‘I see you live in Jacqueline O’Conner’s old lodging. Did you know her?’ Tommy then asked and you confirmed that you did.

‘She is my grandmother, but I never met her. I took on the house after she died. The rent is cheap’ you explained and this made sense to him.

‘Jacqueline O’Conner is your grandmother, eh?’ he asked. ‘She used to work in one of my factories. She was a good woman’ he then told you before asking about your mother.

‘So, your mother is Josephine O’Connor then?’ Tommy asked and you were surprised.

‘How did you know?’ you wondered but the answer was obvious.

‘She was Jacqueline’s only child’ Tommy explained and you realised that this was true.

‘So, you know my mother?’ you queried.

‘I used to. She was a good woman’ Tommy said and this was something which made you chuckle.

‘Yeah. A good woman’ you laughed, seeing how she had failed to protect you from your stepfather, Steward.

‘How would you like to come and work for me and make some more money?’ was the next question Tommy asked, catching you by surprise.

‘You are offering me a job?’ you clarified and he confirmed that this was indeed what he was doing.

‘Yes Y/N O’Connor. I am offering you a job. At my offices. It is legitimate work and I will pay ten shillings per week’ he said, catching even his acquaintance by surprise. This was a lot of money these days, especially for office work.

‘That it is four times as much as I get paid here. Why are you offering me that much money?’ you wondered, being slightly suspicious as well as cautious.

‘Perhaps I just believe in your abilities’ he mused. ‘So, do you accept?’ he wanted to know and you knew that you were lacking options.

‘Yes. I accept’ you confirmed which, again, made Tommy smile.

‘Good’ he said. ‘Tomorrow morning, nine o’clock at this address. Don’t be fucking late’ he told you before handing you his business card. Thomas Shelby, Director of Shelby Company Limited, it read and his offices were located right within one of the large factory buildings in Small Heath.

The Aftermath: Michael’s POV

‘She steals from us and you offer her a job?’ Michael asked after listening in on the conversation.

‘Yeah’ Tommy said bluntly and Michael wanted to know his reasons.

‘Why?’ he thus asked, causing Tommy to smirk.

‘My reasons are two-fold’ Tommy explained, causing Michael to chuckle.

‘You want to fuck her, now that is obvious. That is reason one…But what is the other reason?’ Michael asked with great curiosity.

‘Her mother, Josephine O’Connor, was once married to a man by the name of Steward Callum. He went to school with me and Arthur and Arthur almost killed him with his bare fucking hands because of a bet which, ironically, involved a date with Josephine herself’ Tommy chuckled, remembering the grief caused by Josephine’s actions at the time.

‘Arthur was in love with this woman’s mother?’ Michael ought to clarify.

‘Yes, but Arthur never stood a chance with her. She told him to go to hell when he first asked her out and Steward O’Conner married her a year later, leaving Arthur’s heartbroken’ Tommy told him but this still did not explain Tommy’s need to employ you.

‘And?’ he thus asked. ‘This is no reason to employ her daughter’ he pointed out.

‘Steward Callum owes us a significant amount of money. He has a gambling debt and vanished without repaying it’ Tommy explained.

‘How much money does he owe?’ Michael wondered.

‘Twenty thousand pounds’ Tommy said, almost angrily.

‘Twenty thousand fucking pounds?’ Michael was shocked. ‘What are you going to tell Arthur?’ he then asked but Tommy did not intend to tell him anything.

‘Nothing! This needs to stay between us, for now’ he thus instructed, causing Michael to nod.

‘Now, call Pol and tell her to gather Abrahama’s men. I want two stationed at each of our brothels for the next two weeks. If there is any truth to what our new friend is saying, then we must put a stop to it’ Tommy then ordered.

‘Alright. I will get right to it boss’ Michael mused before wanting to head off with one of the working girls.

‘And Michael…’ Tommy called after him as Clara took hold of Michael’s hand. He had booked her for the next hour and wanted to make the most of it whereas Tommy was no longer in the mood for any such thing.

‘Yes Tommy?’ Michael asked quickly.

‘Y/N O’Connor is off limits for you and everyone else. Make sure you communicate that, eh’ Tommy said, marking his territory.

‘Yes Tommy. She is all yours. Clearly, you enjoy the challenging ones’ Michael mused, seeing that you would be rather difficult to deal with.

‘Well Michael, what would life be without a challenge, eh?’ Tommy responded before deciding to call it a night. If he could not have you, he did not want anyone at all.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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sapphire-weapon · 7 months

Text

Leon, in the intro to RE4make:

"September 30, 1998. It's a day I'll never forget. The cop inside me died that day."

---

Officer 1: So, tell me, Yanqui. Why did you come to this horrible place? As close to nowhere as I've ever seen.

Leon: Let's just say... looking for someone.

Officer 1: That someone must be very important, eh? The Chief gave the orders himself. "Help him," he said.

Leon: I'm sure you boys didn't come all the way out here to roast marshmallows.

Officers 1 & 2: (laugh)

Leon: (annoyed) Maybe you did.

Officer 1: You have a strange sense of humor. I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. Just between us. A lot of people have gone missing around here, and it's been that way for a while, now.

Leon: (still annoyed) Well, then. Should be just another day in the office, right?

Officer 1: Mmm... I mean, last week, there was a search for some missing hikers.

Leon: (sarcastically) I'm sure you'll do your best to help me.

Officer 1: (laughs)

[...]

Leon, much later in the scene: So much for helping me.

---

Leon, later in chapter 1:

(bitterly) "Gotta fix everything myself."

---

Leon tells Ada in RE2make that the reason why he went into law enforcement was to help people like Kendo and his daughter -- vulnerable people, good people, members of the community who are facing the worst moments of their life and need someone to help make it right.

And yet he says in the intro to RE4make that the cop inside him died that day. When we take that in context with what he told Ada about Kendo, what he means is that his desire to help people died that day. The belief that he could help people died that day.

His faith in humanity died that day.

Leon goes into his mission to save Ashley already expecting the two local officers that he's with to be completely fucking useless, and he gets immediately annoyed at the first hint that they are. His "So much for helping me" is said with a sense of "Why am I not surprised?"

He went into RE2make believing that people are generally good and that things will work themselves out.

He goes into RE4make believing that people are generally selfish and will take advantage of him, leaving him to work through any problem that arises on his own.

This is why he's so supremely pissed off at Ada when they meet back up again, and it's also why Ashley is so integral to his character arc. It's also why I've said in the past that Ada is a foil for Ashley in RE4make.

(NOTE: A foil is a character that is set up in the narrative to directly contrast with another one. Where one character is deficient, the foil character is strong, and vice versa. Where Ada is cold, Ashley is warm. Where Ada is physically capable, Ashley is defenseless. Where Ada is secretive, Ashley is honest. Where Ada is calculating, Ashley is impulsive. A foil does not necessarily exist to make one character seem better than the other; a foil exists to showcase two equals using a different approach and receiving different outcomes as a result.)

Ada is the genesis of Leon's cynicism. She's the reason why he expects less than nothing from people anymore -- the reason why he goes into every social interaction waiting to be screwed over. And she reinforces this throughout the narrative by trying to tear him down ("Leave the girl. She's lost no matter what.") or by keeping score ("Happy to help. Now you owe me.") -- which she takes even further in Separate Ways ("Don't worry, Leon. First time's free.").

In the six years since her initial betrayal, Leon has been forged into a weapon by the US government. The kind-hearted boy from RE2make who wanted to save the world now is more comfortable shoving a knife in the throat of an old woman than he is with carrying on small talk with people.

But weapons on their own are neither good nor bad. It's how they're used that determines that. Up until RE4make, Leon has been surrounded by extreme violence and senseless death (that's the point of changing Operation Javier btw), and he doesn't see a way in which his status as a weapon could possibly be used for good.

Until Ashley comes into his life.

If there was ever anyone who had a good reason to take Leon for granted and take advantage of him, it's Ashley -- but not only does she not do that, but she goes out of her way to make herself useful without expectation or strings attached. The only thing she ever asks for in return is a "thank you."

So, every time she gets that "thank you" -- every time she gets a real smile out of him -- she's returning pieces of his humanity to him. She's healing the hurts that Ada and the CIA inflicted on him so many years ago. She's showing him that there's still some good in this world, and it's worth fighting for. She's worth fighting for.

When Leon says: "This time, it has to be different..." he's not talking about his inability to save anyone in Raccoon City. That's a very surface-level interpretation. What he's referring to there is that Raccoon City destroyed his faith in humanity, ruined his image of himself, and poisoned his ability to create meaningful connections with people.

That's what has to be different this time. That's why the full line he says in the intro is: "If I could just forget what happened that night... the pain, even for a second... This time, it can be different. It has to."

RE2make took so much from him, but Ashley spent the entirety of RE4make giving so much of it back. But if she were to die in his arms in chapter 15, that hope and that healing would die with her. Her death would be a reaffirmation that everything that Leon wants or hopes for in this world isn't real, and that reality is nothing more than a series of random tragedies and chaos that results in suffering.

Ashley re-teaches him how to trust in people again, how to work as part of a team again, how to feel good about his own actions again. She teaches him how to hope again.

Ashley is the first person in six years to care about whether Leon gets or feels hurt by her actions. The most important line of dialogue spoken to Leon in the entire game is "Stay back! I might hurt you again..." as Ashley openly sobs over the mere thought of it.

Juxtapose that beside...

During the boat scene, Ada asks Leon in response to whether or not she's changed, after all of the damage she's already inflicted on him: "What do you think? Don't think too hard."

And so, in the ending, Leon answers: "I think we both know that this is where we go our separate ways."

Because, this time, things were different.

Because, this time, his partner was Ashley.

#resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #ashley graham #ada wong #meta analysis #i hope this makes sense it feels very disjointed #i might edit it some later for clarity #but i wanted to get this out

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rose-pearls · 1 year

Text

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend - Part 4

Previous Part - Next Part

It’s a blur, everything is blur since weeks.

She’s used to it by now, the needle entering her body and memories flying away like they were never there. The screams next to her make her want to throw up but she got used to it, trying to count to ten in her head again and again to get through them.

It’s weird because when she opens her eyes there aren’t any screams, the room is different than the one she has been in the past few weeks probably. There is a door on the side, but she feels too tired to go and open it, her mind trying to understand what is happening.

The door opens and she tries not to flinch but it’s not successful as the woman in front of her looks at her with a smile full of pity. She sits down on the chair next to her and try as she might she doesn’t remember this woman.

“You are safe in district 13, there was a rescue mission last night.”, the woman explains, and the girl looks at her with wide eyes.

“Haymitch is going to come in any minute now and we will do the check up after that. There are a lot of people that are happy to see you.”, the woman says with a kind smile, the door opens a second later and a man with dirty blond hair appears, looking at her relieved.

“Hi sweetheart, long time no see.”, he looks at her with a tired smile, that seems slightly emotional, but her head is buzzing again. She knows she should remember who he is, but she isn’t able to recall who he is.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”, she asks, and the man looks at her for a moment surprised before taking a step back and looking at the doctor before looking back towards her.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”, it feels like a slap in the face, he doesn’t know what to feel at that moment and as he looks at Katniss’s mother, he sees the same confusion on her face.

“Honey, that is your mentor, Haymitch.”, he hears her whisper softly to the frightened girl, but she just looks at him like she doesn’t know him at all.

“I-I really don’t know who either of you are, I’m sorry.”, Haymitch feels sick, like he might throw up, at the sight of her trembling hands and her pale skin, she looks like she hasn’t eaten in days.

“Why don’t we do a checkup to see if everything is alright?”, he watches the two of them doing the examination and as the results come in, he sees the defeated glance Katniss’s mother has.

“We will be right back.”, she softly whispers to the girl and leads him outside where the rest of the group is anxiously waiting, except one person is missing.

“Where is Katniss?”, he asks quickly, and the rest looks at each other before Johanna rips off the band aid.

“Peeta went nuts when she got into the room, tried to strangle her and everything. Apparently, he thinks that she is a mut and that she is the villain.”, Haymitch feels the migraine coming and the guilt gripping him.

“What the hell did they do to him.”, he whispers under his breath, but Beetee seems to have heard him.

“We suppose they used tracker jacker venom, they probably used it to transform his memories and make him believe that Katniss is the enemy and not Snow.”, he feels like he is going to throw up, once again but he holds it in.

“How is she doing?”, Finnick asks after a moment, his voice just above a whisper and Haymitch doesn’t know what to tell him. He knows that the boy has suffered far too much, and this could be too much for him.

“We first thought she was alright, underweight because of malnutrition and a few bruises along her body but nothing else was found. The blood result just came in and after seeing her reaction when Haymitch and I came in.”, Haymitch doesn’t feel ready to hear what she has to tell them but still he keeps himself upright and turns towards the doctor.

“She is suffering from memory loss; it seems they have used some product to make her lose her memories. We don’t know to what extent but-”, she can’t finish her sentence as Finnick turns around and starts to mumble under his breath.

“No, no, no, that is not possible.”, Haymitch wants to go to the boy but let’s Johanna take over, taking him by the shoulders and whispering some calming words.

“We want to have everyone go into the room one by one and see if she remembers them, that way we can figure it out. Make a list of people she should meet.”, she leaves them there and Haymitch looks around at the defeated faces surrounding him and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Alright let’s get our shit together and start to help that girl in there. Obviously, all of us are going in there, is there anyone else?”, Johanna says while taking a look around the room, taking charge and Haymitch has never felt more grateful.

“Peeta, but we don’t know how we would do that.”, Beetee answers and Johanna nods quickly at his answer.

“We show her a picture and see if anything comes back! Anyone else?”, they all try to think of someone before Finnick’s voice breaks through.

“Gale, Katniss’s cousin.”, Haymitch nods at the answer even if he feels doubtful at the idea of letting that boy in the same room as her.

“Let’s get this show on the road then, Haymitch you’ve already been in there, so you’re done. I’ll go in right now and we will go down the list.”, the rest of the victor’s nod in agreement before Johanna takes a deep breath, looking at the door with unsure eyes.

“It’s going to be alright.”, he tells her to try and comfort her, but she glares at him before opening the door.

“We both know that’s bullshit.”, she closes the door behind her and the rest of them wait outside.

Two minutes later Johanna comes out of the room looking pale, wide eyes looking at them with fear before she puts on her mask again.

“Well, she doesn’t seem to remember me.”, she tries to say it sarcastically, but it falls flat, making them all look at the ground. Haymitch knows the both of them had been close, Johanna being the first person to treat her as a real human being and not something fragile.

“Next person then.”, he says while Johanna goes to sit down on the ground, looking deep in thought.

The rest of the afternoon is spent going one after the other, each time having the news that she doesn’t remember them until only Finnick stays over.

“Well, she doesn’t seem to remember me.”, Gale says as he comes out, he seems tired and Haymitch guesses they all look tired.

“Guess it’s your turn now Finnick.”, Beetee says softly, and the boy looks at the door with fearful eyes.

“You want me to come with you?”, he hears Johanna ask but Finnick declines her offer before going towards the door and entering the room.

The room is small, just the bed in the middle and whole cases of medication surrounding her. She is looking small, afraid and Finnick has to stop his memory from going back to that day on the beach.

“Hi.”, he whispers softy, and she turns around to look at him, her usually sparkling eyes are lacking their usual joy and Finnick wants to go over and make sure she is alright, but he stops himself.

“Hi.”, she says while looking unsure.

“I’m sorry you have to go through all of this.”, he says while taking the chair next to her bed.

“Guess it’s part of the healing process.”, a timid smile appears and Finnick can’t stop his heart from beating faster at the sight of it.

“It is. Guess I should ask you the question everyone has asked you already.”, he can barely say the words, but she nods quietly at his words.

They stay in silence, he isn’t able to ask her the question, too scared that she won’t remember him.

“I’m sorry.”, he hears her say and he looks up towards her, seeing her eyes looking at him sadly.

“Why?”, he asks after a few seconds, and she looks at him with glassy eyes.

“Because I can’t manage to remind myself who you are.”, the words are like a knife in his heart, and he tries to breathe again but it seems impossible. Tears are coming up and he quickly tries to avoid letting them fall.

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault.”, he whispers, his voice breaking over the words as he speaks.

He stays there for a few seconds before getting up and going towards the door, stopping when he takes the handle.

“Seeing you like this and not being able to help you — it breaks my heart.”, he manages to whisper over his shoulder, and he has just the time to see her wide eyes before he opens the door and closes it behind him.

They are all looking at him with various expression before they see his and they all turn sad.

“She- she doesn’t remember.”, he barely manages to say before he feels a few tears leave his eyes. Johanna is by his side in an instant, supporting him while Katniss’s mother enters the room with two pictures in her hand.

He tries to keep it together, waiting for the doctor to come back but it feels like ages before she comes back with a confused expression on her face.

“I just showed her a picture of Katniss and she doesn’t remember her either.”, the group groans at the news but quickly quiet down as she starts talking again, looking unsure.

“I then showed her a picture of Peeta, and she knew immediately who he was. The only person she remembers is Peeta, but the memories associated with him are of what happened in the capitol.”, Finnick feels like he was going to be sick, the only thing she remembers is that they both got tortured.

Everyone leaves after a while and he assures Johanna that he will be fine, he takes a moment to look at the closed door knowing that she is right there but still further away than before.

After a quick glance he leaves towards his room, not knowing how he was going to survive this without her knowing him.

“it’s going to be alright.”, she whispers softly against his chest, but Finnick still holds her tighter. In just a few hours they will try to escape the Capitol for district thirteen, and he can’t help but feel scared.

“Promise me you’ll do your best to come back to me.”, he knows he can’t ask her that, but he can’t help it. She lifts her head off his chest to look at him with her tired but loving eyes.

“You know I can’t promise that, but I’ll try.”, he knows it’s all he can ask for, he brushes a strand of her hair behind her hair enjoying the soft smile that appears at the act.

“I love you.”, he says softly, and she smiles at him before kissing him lovingly.

“I love you too, Finnick. I’ll always come back to you.”, he smiles as she puts her forehead against his and he enjoys the embrace before they have to brave the outside world again.

He enjoys the feeling of her skin against his hands, the slow breaths coming from her lips and the smell of her perfume. He tries to remember every detail of the moment before he has to let go of her.

And as he lays in bed that night, he tries to remember that moment, telling himself she will come back to him. Even if it has to take years, he will be there waiting for her.

Taglist: @nobody7102, @universal-s1ut

#finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair #hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games

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gaoau · 3 months

Text

lynching the screams of the burnt and the gifted

theory of the two demons warnings — none word count — 3.2k

prev. — next.

the ringing of their phone echoes in the room. on the corner of their bed, [Name] hugs their knees closer to their chest. they wait until the noise vanishes completely, leaving a torturous silence to drill into their ears. then a knock sounds on their front door. then namiyo's voice calls out to them. she says something about a woman, the director. [Name] can barely make out the director's face in their memory.

the only thing they see when they close their eyes is Q's smile, forever unfading, stained with filthy blood pouring from their arms.

it's been way too long. one or two months, [Name] can't tell. everything blurs together. Q's confinement, Dazai's disappearance, their own fall into this abyss of self-pity. from what [Name] remembers—which isn't much at all—Dazai's last mission involved counterfeit money or something of the sort. it doesn't really narrow it down when everything in the Port Mafia involves money. [Name] doesn't remember, nor do they care at this point. the longer Dazai keeps his wretched claws off them, the closer they are to freedom.

they are sorry. the people they swore to help and the time they promised not to waste.

they failed Q. they held Q's hand and they failed them. and although they regret it, they can hardly care about it anymore. it's been draining them through every assassination and through every report and through every step forward in their progress.

namiyo's voice tries again, "i'll be leaving now, [Name]-san. please, remember the mission tonight." without a response from her boss, her footsteps become nothing but a faint whisper as she leaves.

[Name] sighs at the thought of more tedious murders in the name of the Port Mafia. the sheets tangle around their feet and neck when they shift. their bed, their clothes, the air, it all suffocates them. it's all messing with their head. it's all messing with their time. they've lost what little control they had.

Mori Ougai knows the face of suicide all too well. he's seen it a billion times already; before, during, and after the war. soldiers, first-time mothers, victims, criminals, the ill and the healthy. the one burnt brightly in his mind is that of a fourteen-year-old boy, the one he met at a hospital, the one he strapped to a table, the one he took under his wing for his own gain. Mori knows the face of suicide all too well, not because he's seen it manifested in hundreds of different people, but because he met Dazai.

it's been a little over a week since Dazai went missing. Mori hasn't heard from him since he last reported [Name]'s stubborn refusal to engage in conversation. he also hasn't seen [Name] since then. he knows they're not missing or dead; they're still doing their job, after all. but he's slightly concerned [Name] will actually kill themself if left to their own devices any longer. he knows the face of suicide and [Name] is starting to twist into it—whether he can look them in the eye or not.

a knock on his door makes his lips curl into a smirk. "come in." he chuckles to himself as his last resort walks into his office. Chuuya's frown is a pleasant familiar sight of reassurance. he bows to the boss, hands behind his back while greeting him. "hello, Chuuya-kun, i've a favor to ask."

instantly, Chuuya's attitude flips. his regular frown becomes a venomous scowl. "boss, before you say anything," he starts, a natural growl on the edge of his syllables. he knows exactly where this is going and he's tired of Dazai's antics. "if this is about that shitty Dazai going MIA, i re—"

Mori laughs, holding up his palm to cut Chuuya off before he pops a vein over nothing. "it's tied to that, but i won't ask you to look for him. he'll come back once he's done throwing his tantrum." Chuuya clicks his tongue at that. Mori continues, "i know you've met [Name]-kun once. i was surprised; i thought Dazai-kun would keep them from you."

"[Name]?" Chuuya mumbles. the name rings a bell, but he struggles to put a face to it. an old dog and a puppy. "ah, that anti-ability kid." he thinks that term is wrong. he thinks there can't be two anti-ability kids. he thinks it's scary to be in the same bag as Dazai, even as the other half of Soukoku.

"well, there's more to their ability, if you're interested." Mori fumbles with a stack of files on his desk. the papers holding [Name]'s personal information and research history are nearly endless at this point. he chooses the most important ones: their origins and ability. as he hands the documents over, he sighs, "but i'm a little concerned about them."

"how so?" Chuuya prompts. he absent-mindedly starts flipping through the thousands of printed words. if he wanted to memorize all of this, it would take him more than a lifetime. he can hardly believe someone's life has been recorded like this since the moment they were born. laboratories and experiments echo with empathy in his chest. why would a kid like this be entrusted to someone like Dazai? that's just torture.

this reaction was as much as Mori could expect. he watches Chuuya's brows furrow in horror when he scans particular key words. if anyone would know, it's Nakahara Chuuya. while he diligently reads, Mori talks, "you see, they're a valuable subordinate of mine, but the recent situation with Q has seemed to have struck a chord with them. they haven't been talking since then."

"that was almost three months ago."

"they'd taken quite a liking to Q," he shrugs carefreely, "and Dazai-kun was merciless when confining them. he made [Name]-kun bear the brunt of his frustrations and anger towards the situation."

Chuuya fixes his attention back on his boss. "they'd taken a liking to that little demon?" for a moment, his empathy melts away at the memory of the incident. dozens of his men hanging by their necks, blood and gore painting the walls, the maniacal cackles of a walking catastrophe. he doesn't hate to admit he sees eye to eye with Dazai on Q's confinement. they might be a child, but they deserved it.

"if i had to make a guess, i'd say it's projection, but that's another story. they're doing their job and producing results—i'm only worried they might kill themself now that Dazai-kun is gone."

Chuuya's eyes grow wide in realization. "you paired two suicidal brats together?" why would a kid like this be entrusted to someone like Dazai? that's just cruel. it's so, so cruel.

but Mori seems to think otherwise. he smiles. "yes, i asked Dazai-kun to keep them from dying." (Chuuya cannot process what he's hearing.) "but now that he's not here to give them a good beating, i'm starting to think they've reached the end of their rope." (Chuuya cannot understand inhumane humans.)

"what would you like me to do?"

Mori's smile grows into an amused grin. "could you act as Dazai-kun's replacement until he gets back? get them moving a little and make sure they don't slit their own wrists?"

"so i have to pick up that idiot's slack?"

"if you'd be so kind, Chuuya-kun."

laboratories and military facilities. beings created and experimented on solely for the sake of organizations bigger than they can comprehend. Chuuya knows the constant dilemma of existing—a scar on his wrist that makes him flicker back and forth on his humanity. he's not one to think he shouldn't have been born at all. he's not one to throw away his life. he might be Arahabaki's monstrous vessel and [Name] might be a rare specimen, but he knows they're both more human than Dazai will ever be.

(Chuuya understands humane monsters.)

he bows his head, bending on one knee. "of course, boss."

orders are orders. [Name] knows that much. collecting debts, wiping out enemies, catching traitors in the act. however much they might want to die, diligence has been beaten into them and repaired their bones each time. when they get a memo to show up at the training room, they obey, albeit questioning it. Mori officially called off their sessions with Verlaine after they flaked thrice in two days—not that they needed them anymore, after all, they've grown enough.

they wait and wait and wait. the light that used to flicker in the ceiling is now off completely. the cracks on the wall and the debris on the ground are nonexistent, as if no one had ever thrown them around like a ragdoll. they wait and wait and wonder. has Dazai returned? it's only been ten days, maybe nine, maybe eleven. but it's been way too little for him to come back.

of course the first thing he does upon returning is torment his former mentee.

when they hear the lock of the door click open, their shoulders tense up on instinct. Mirror Mirage activates, an orange glow surrounding their body while it prepares for a bullet or a knife or even a grenade. anything at all that could harm them, because that's all they can associate Dazai's hollow smirks with.

but nothing comes.

instead, they hear a confused huh? that echoes through the room.

Chuuya closes the door behind him, a raised brow questioning why [Name] is so on guard at nothing. when they realize it's just him, their ability powers off. "hey," he greets them. he can tell they've changed since the last time he saw them. he receives no response. scratching the back of his head awkwardly, he approaches them and says, "i got a request from the boss," to fill in the silence.

again, [Name] doesn't answer. they stand idly and stare at him. their shoulders relax ever so slightly. they watch.

he sighs, "i'm gonna check your progress before taking you with me, yeah?"

[Name] listens. as the months passed, they had forgotten about Nakahara Chuuya almost completely. they'd forgotten about breathing evenly and the absence of constant hostility. [Name] listens because there's a natural growl in his voice that they'd forgotten about. one they find really cool and welcoming, almost approving. [Name] listens closely and it makes them want to answer.

whether they curl up to protect themself or not, Chuuya is not an enemy.

nearly exasperated, he sighs one more time. it's not a warning nor a threat nor a declaration of war. it's not jarring. "so it's true you ain't talking?" he mutters to the floor.

but then he looks into their eyes again. for a moment, Dazai is back from wherever it is he disappeared off to. it's only briefly, flashing back at him from the depths of an abyss, lonely and scared. but then Chuuya blinks and it's just [Name] standing in front of him, lips sealed shut and anger burning. there's untamable amounts of animosity crying from their unshed tears. tears not theirs to shed because they're free, because the child victim to the circumstances is not them anymore. it's unsettling, Chuuya thinks, how much they look like Dazai.

"that bastard really is one piece of shit mentor, huh…" and although [Name] agrees—or do they? they don't know—Chuuya still receives silence. he finds this tedious. picking up Dazai's slack and dealing with a kid shaped exactly like suicide. orders are orders, he knows. "well, whatever, i'll show him why i'm better. let's see what you got."

with a nod towards [Name], he activates For The Tainted Sorrow. they mimic him, powering up with what little lifespan they have left from their last job. it's quick and simple, like the first time Dazai had them test their abilities on one another. kicking debris up from the floor, flinging stones and bricks and boulders. Chuuya is slightly more wary of being touched, but he's nonetheless impressed at their progress. for the most part, at least. sharp reflexes, smooth counters, swift steps. he acknowledges how skilled they have become.

then why aren't they dodging?

given, Mirror Mirage works as a shield—he saw that first-hand and it was written on the files Mori gave him a few days ago—which is why letting minor hits land is nothing. but they're drawing blood. the ability's durability depends on the amount of lifespan [Name] has stolen from other living beings, so Chuuya understands that with a smaller stock, damage is possible. but they can dodge. why aren't they dodging?

"alright, hold on, hold on," he grumbles and holds his palm up. [Name] halts immediately. a frown soils Chuuya's face as he tries to keep his sanity intact. "what are you doing? if you can dodge, then dodge. don't ignore the hits that are getting to you, even if they're small. i won't take you with me if you're just gonna kill yourself."

[Name] blinks once. then twice. then thrice. it's not like Dazai never talked about tactics—he might not be the mentor [Name] would have wanted, but he's the best one they could have asked for and he's beaten them into shape. or, at least, into a shape awfully similar to his. he's told them to think things through in battle, not to rely on their ability alone, stay one step ahead from their opponent, utilize every second to their advantage. but he's also taught them it's better to go down out in the battlefield; they can die, no one will stop them, but they should at least be useful up to their last breath.

("you can withstand hits pretty well, but one might kill you.")

as [Name] stares in astonishment, Chuuya manages to put two and two together. he's not surprised one suicidal maniac teaches suicidal tendencies to a suicidal brat. he really hates having to pick up that bastard's slack, but he'll start right now by undoing everything Dazai has wrongly forced into his former mentee's brain.

("lucky dog.")

Chuuya clicks his tongue. "really, what a fucking useless asshole," he mumbles curses to himself, but [Name] catches them all. he looks them in the eye again, only to find Dazai isn't there anymore. this is just another kid his age, one he could be friends with, one he could play billiards with. "alright, i want you to come over here and nullify my ability, but without gettin' hit."

this is nearly eye-opening. it would be if their lids hadn't been torn open to a cruel reality by the devil. an unusual lack of hostility, camaraderie even. [Name] didn't know the Port Mafia offered more than just resources and time.

"ready?"

"yeah," they answer, nodding.

soft and gentle, [Name] speaks again. Chuuya's brows bounce in surprise. a lullaby that will make anyone want to stay. the sound of sardonic laughter echoing in the crowd.

he smirks to himself at this development. weightless debris surrounds him as he prepares to attack. [Name] follows.

"let's go!"

[Name] tightens their fingers around the box they're holding. it's been about two years since they last saw this woman. they're more than glad she's still alive, after everything that happened in a blur in one single night. lead-filled rain, screaming children, blood, crumbling walls, blood, blood, death. along with a few of those kids, the orphanage director survived.

they leave the box at her doorstep. for a brief second, they consider knocking on the door and waiting for her to answer. they want to hug her again. they hold back, though, because it's better this way. things are easier when one is dead.

bowing, they whisper, "thank you for taking care of me."

they take in a deep breath and ring the bell. before they have time to hesitate, they hurry down the street and out of sight. they don't wait to see the director walk out. they know the money and pictures inside the box are enough to put their own mind at ease. it's all to thank a mother.

the best way to describe [Name], Chuuya thinks, is that they're a less annoying version of Dazai. he would know—he's been partnering up with that bastard for almost three years at this point. they're equally as efficient and Chuuya honestly enjoys working with them. be it out in the battlefield or discussing business, it's fun. although they look and feel the same, [Name] lacks Dazai's disturbingly malicious intelligence. it's probably why holding a normal conversation with them is much easier.

the only similarity that manages to get under his skin is that [Name] wants to die, too.

they're laughing about one of their former foster siblings, shion, eating wax from a candle. they've been talking more and more as the days go by—Chuuya will hold this over Dazai until the end of time—and they make great company to blow some steam off after a day of hard work. under different circumstances, they could have been really close friends.

he admits he's a little drunk when he scans his eyes up and down [Name] sitting beside him. "y'know," he starts. he probably shouldn't say this— "you look an awful lot like that lousy Dazai," —but he blurts it out anyway.

[Name] freezes at his words. they let go of their drink to peer down at their clothes. white shirt, rolled-up sleeves, black tie. they frown at him. "that's rather offensive, Chuuya-san."

"i don't mean your clothes," he sighs, gulping down the last bits of alcohol in his glass. he sets it down on the counter and taps his neck. "i mean this and…" his voice becomes slightly hesitant. he casts his eyes down to their arms, gesturing vaguely. "those."

Dazai said something similar when they met, [Name] remembers. he dropped his own bandages on them and let them soak in their blood. he told them to cover up the billion scars littering their skin so scornfully, as if he wasn't hiding secrets of his own underneath the cloth wrapped around his neck. [Name] glances down at all their failed attempts at freedom.

a tinkling sound catches their attention. they look up to find Chuuya undoing the buckle of his choker. "here." he smiles at them, offering the choker as a gift.

"but this is yours, Chuuya-san."

"it's…" he fumbles with his words. "it's something of a Port Mafia custom." though it's not, not really. this isn't the way it goes. but Chuuya believes [Name] deserves a better mentor, a better friend.

they bow their head, smiling, saying, "thank you." it sounds light and airy, weightless. someone who does the things they do so they can't be known, so they'll be left alone. someone who laughs anyway to charm and trap. [Name] secures the choker around their neck. it covers their burn scar perfectly.

note — dont you love it when the calm before when it calm storm before the it when the calm before the storm happens chuuyas fun. i read storm bringer. im depressed. ive taken my own conclusions from sb, but for the sake of plot i will work under ambiguous impressions. regardless, ive stopped to think a billion times how chuuya would be a much better mentor for akutagawa than port mafia dazai ever was. honestly, anyone woulda been better (if beast is a testament to anything), but chuuya is still perfect for akutagawa to thrive i have many thoughts about chuuya. how awfully flippant he is about traumatic events, how hes the other half of soukoku, how hes debatably not a human and yet hes the most normal out of anyone in the entire cast of bsd, a cast full of morbidly intelligent superhumans one upping one another constantly. he cares about the port mafia as family, hes incredibly respectful despite how hot headed he is, he cares about his subordinates and his city. (ill never forget when i was watching fifteen for the first time and how he immediately switched to keigo the moment he bent down on one knee to mori. insane. you have no idea how much that means to me) i love chuuya, people need to know id murder people with my hands tied for him.. hes a common person, human or not, and hes very regular compared to everyone else. itll be fun drink water have day

#theory of the two demons #bungou stray dogs #bsd #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #nakahara chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #mori ougai #chuuya x reader

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cheesemittens · 1 year

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Hai! I saw that you were taking fic requests and if it's ok with you I was hoping you could write one for Tangerine? Where reader is working w/ the twins for years now and is oblivious to all of Tangerines advances to her bcuz she doesn't really think he likes her. Come to the event where they're on the bullet train and they're trying to do their mission but everything went to shit. So Tan leaves Lem and Reader to wait while he tries to find Ladybug and there comes a chance where Lemon tells her himself about Tans feelings and advances and how oblivious she was and she becomes in denial

And that hopefully in the end, after she got shot in like the shoulder by saving Tan from almost being shot by Ladybug she sees how Tan reacts and she goes "oh shit Lemon was fr not bullshiting" and at the end they get out the train safely and no one dies and have a very real, and cannon happy ending 💕💕

OMG, YESS!!! Thank you so much for the request! I'm so sorry it took so long- BUT- I had a lot of fun writing this and I really hope I did your suggestion justice😭 Word Count: 1656 Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Violence (nothing that doesn't happen in the movie), Fluff, a bit of angst(?), Reader & Tan being obvious, pet names (love), Totally cannon ending where Tan is alive, happy, and healthy, Reader gets hurt :(, allusions to smut? Over all Lemon being fed up with Tan and you exchanging goo-goo eyes and not acting on it <3. I don't think I followed the events in order so- bear with me heh <3 NO USE OF Y/N!! NOT PROOF READ! MAY CONTAIN TYPOS! Send me a request!

You have been working with the two brothers, Lemon and Tangerine, for a while now. Picking up odd jobs. Whatever pays the most. And even though these two could get on your nerves, you enjoyed your time with them. They never once made you feel different. Never told you, you couldn't do something because it was 'too dangerous for a woman'.

Well, that was true until recently. You see, Tangerine has slowly become more aware of every mission's danger. Sure he knew you could handle yourself. He knew that you wouldn't get hurt. But he didn't want to risk it. So naturally when he took this job for the White Death, he was against you coming.

Yet here you are. Sitting by the window, next to a semi-pissed Tan.

It all started when you insisted to join. Saying how you've sat out the last 2 missions, and you weren't going to miss another. Then, Lemon lost the briefcase. After that, you three find the White Death's son dead. The Cherry on top was they (White Death) knew you lot didn't have the case.

"Alright, I'm gonna go find this prick and teach him a lesson. You two stay here, yeah?" You heard Tan speak up, making you look over at him. "But I wa-" "Ah ah- No buts. You're staying here." He said firmly before getting up and walking off

You sighed as you watched Tangerine walk off. Lemon watched him as well before fixating his gaze on you.

"You know he likes you, right?"

"What..?" Surely you didn't hear that right. Or you must be dreaming. Because you thought there was no way in hell that someone as hot as Tan could ever like you back.

"Did you go deaf or somethin'? I said my brother likes you. It's painfully obvious." Even when he repeated it, you looked at Lemon like he had two heads. "I-I think you're mistaken.. There's no way he likes me.." Lemon just rolled his eyes. "Look, I wouldn't lie to ya' about this. I see the way you look at my brother. You clearly fancy him a lot. And he feels the same. I mean, it's painfully obvious to everyone else. He's told you how many pickup lines since we got on this train? And how many through our whole time together? And don't even get me started on the looks you two give each other when the other is turned!"

"I-.. I thought he was just being friendly.." You mumbled, still in denial. You refused to think someone who seemed so out of your league liked you. "Yeah? Well, he wasn't. He's been trying to rack up the nerve to ask you out like a proper gentleman, but every time he asks, you're off in your own world."

You shook your head firmly, looking out of the window. "Would you stop being such a stubborn priss and just open your eyes? You two fancy each other! Just confess and move on. If I have to sit through another mission filled with romantic and sexual tension I might just quit."

You continued to talk to Lemon, arguing over if Tan likes you back or not before transitioning to a more tame conversation. Though your mind kept wandering back to what he said. You couldn't help but wonder if you were in the wrong about it.

It had been a while since you got separated from Lemon. You were worried, alone, and in all honesty? Scared. You didn't feel safe without being with one of the twins. Preferably Tan over Lem. But you wouldn't mind Lem.

You walked around the eerily empty train before finding an open bathroom, your eyes widening as you saw a bloodied Lemon. Quickly you knelt to his level and checked for a pulse, luckily finding one. You examined him more and saw Tan's necklace around him. Of course he'd jump the gun and think the worst.

You quickly got up, running through the train to find him. You bumped into another girl on your way down. You gave her a skeptical look. "Watch where you're going!" She yelled at you as she continued on.

You couldn't help but scrunch up your nose in disgust. You could barely notice a Thomas the Tank Engine sticker on her back. Diesel. So that's who drugged Lem.

You made a mental note to find her later, no doubt she thought Lem was dead so you didn't have to worry for now. Continuing down the train. Eventually, you saw him, saw your Tan fighting another guy. They didn't see you yet. So you tried to quietly sneak up on the other one. But when you saw him reach for the gun, it was game over.

You ran as fast as you could and pushed Tan out of the way right when the gun fired, not even feeling the pain in your shoulder when it was done with.

It was like time was going in slow motion for Tan. One minute he was fighting this Ladybug guy, then the next everything was going significantly slower, watching you run towards him and push him away. He had to blink a few times before landing on his ass with a groan, looking up at you and watching a bright red liquid start to stain your white shirt.

If his eyes could change colors, they would be bright red, staring at the man with the gun who was behind you, not even giving him a second to get out the words "I'm sorry" before he had him up against the wall.

"First, you come in here while I was about to kill the bloody Diesel, then you try to kill me, not believing me when I said that she's trying to make us all kill each other. And then! The fuckin' cherry on top, you try to kill me. But you shoot my partner instead. You hurt an innocent lady. A fuckin' goddess.."

He was growling at the other man, finally the pain of the bullet settling in. You winced in pain and fell to the floor, grabbing your shoulder to try and stop some of the bleeding.

Tan paused hearing you, looking over and quickly dropping the man to run to your side. "Are you okay love..?" He asked, his expression softened when he looked at you, taking off his shirt to wrap around your shoulder to help stop the bleeding.

You couldn't help but stare as he took it off, your eyes moving from his abs to his eyes as he wrapped up your shoulder. So Lem was telling the truth. Tan really did love you. It was as clear as day to you now. The way he looked at you, how you were the most beautiful person alive. The way he spoke, how he immediately softened when he saw you. Everything he did showed his love for you.

"Hello? I asked if you were okay?" He repeated, waving a hand in front of your face. That seemed to snap you out of your trance, blinking a few times before you looked at him, smiling softly.

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, not caring how much the wound hurt from this. "Th-Thank you, Tan.. I mean it.." You spoke softly, feeling tears well up in your eyes. Partly from the pain, partly because you were just so happy.

Tan was beyond confused, but hugged you back, smiling softly as he took in your sweet scent. "You don't need to thank me, love.. It's the least I can do.." He hummed, wanting this moment to last forever but, you eventually pulled away, looking into his eyes.

"Did.. Did you really mean what you said about me..? A-About me being a... a goddess..?" You asked, your voice shaking a bit. You hoped he'd say yes, hoping that he truly meant it so you could confess.

"Of course I did.. You're beautiful.. Stunning.. Fuck- Words can't des-"

You didn't let him finish, quickly pulling him into a kiss. He was surprised but quickly melted into it, kissing you back as his hands found their way into your hair, entangling with your soft locks.

By this point Ladybug had read the room and left while he still had his life, knowing that as soon as Tan could, he'd kill him.

The two of you never wanted to pull away, kissing for as long as your breaths would allow before having to pull away. "I-.. I really like you Tan.. Liked you for a while now.." You shyly admitted, panting softly as you tried to regain your breath. "I like you too.. So so much.." He hummed, smiling at you lovingly as he cupped your face.

"Fuckin' finally! I was worried I'd actually have to quit." Lemon's voice could be heard from the doorway making the both of you chuckle. "Jesus Lem.. You're alive?" Tan looked over at him, for the first time breaking eye contact with you. "Yeah. Someone drugged the water I drank. Did you not check my pulse?"

Tan looked away shyly, slightly embarrassed he jumped the gun. "To play devil's advocate, you do have a shit ton of blood on you Lem." You hummed, trying to defend Tan. Lemon just rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's just get off the train at the next stop, yeah?

All of you agreed and the train came to a stop not long after. All of you exited and no one was seriously harmed! Well, besides you. After a quick trip to the ER to get the bullet removed, and the wound sewn up, you all retreated back to your separate hotel rooms. Little would Lemon know (that's a like he totally knew), Tan would sneak out of their room to go into yours just to make sure you're okay. But what ended up happening instead was more than fine as well.

#bullet train tangerine #tangerine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #lemon bullet train #lady bug bullet train #bullet train #bullet train lemon #bullet train x reader #bullet train x y/n #tangerine bullet train #fluff #bullet train fluff #fan fiction #arron taylor johnson #arron talor johnson fan fiction

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badbatchposts · 2 months

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Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Chapter 4

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut (not for a few chapters still), Canon-Typical Violence

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3

Chapter 4 summary: The Batch are so bad at being under the radar. They learn more about the mysterious woman; Crosshair doesn't trust her.

“Don’t go to sleep, burk’yc.” Crosshair could see the woman nodding off any time he left her with a few moments of silence. She blinked her eyes open again and refilled her mug with more hot water.

“You’re not exactly the most fascinating conversationalist,” she remarked. She eyed his rifle, which he was methodically cleaning and breaking down, his post-mission ritual. “You’re not a bad shot. I saw the trooper helmets when you were done with them. Guess that’s where you get the name. Bullseye, was it?”

“It’s Crosshair. And I’m better than not bad,” he scoffed testily.

“I suppose that’s why you waited until after I was shot to step in. Or maybe you’re just scared of the Empire.” Her voice was neutral, but she had played her hand too obviously; she was goading him, probing for information just like he was.

He reined himself in and went on the offensive. “I wonder,” he purred, “if your hair’s that color everywhere.”

Crosshair expected steel, fury, maybe a flush coming over her cheeks. Instead, she ran her fingers through her locks disinterestedly, picking out the leaves he had noticed before. Both ears, he observed as her hair was smoothed out of the way, were pierced from top to bottom with a series of small silver rings. “It didn’t used to be. Last few years haven’t been the gentlest for the galaxy, have they?” She nodded at the closely cropped gray hairs that coated his own head, growing back patchily around the burn scar at his temple. “What’s your excuse, grandpa?”

“Genetic enhancement,” he replied cryptically.

“Guess that explains the big guy.” She gestured to Wrecker, who was dead-lifting Gonky at the other end of the ship, before offering her beverage to Crosshair. “It’s supposed to be a communal practice,” she explained in response to his raised eyebrow. He made no motion to take it, eliciting a shrug from her. “That’s alright. I always drink it alone anyway.”

“What? No one likes sharing with you?”

“My life seems like it’s a lot less…communal…than yours.” She glanced vaguely around the ship, which was littered with evidence of their co-habitation. “I suppose mercenaries run in packs.”

“We’re not mercenaries,” Hunter interrupted, rejoining them. He had always taken issue with that term. “We’re clone troopers.”

Crosshair prickled a little. He would never understand why the others had been so difficult to track down during his time with the Empire. Hunter didn’t seem to get the finer points of staying off the radar, since he took the opportunity to expose who they were to the first pretty face they came across.

“Haven’t seen a lot of clone troopers that look like you all.” The woman offered Hunter the mug; sniffing curiously, he took a sip.

“It’s good. Thank you,” he said. Crosshair could tell what Hunter was doing. Where the sniper was rigid, aloof, difficult, the sergeant could be considerate, relatable, diplomatic. He thinks he can break you down this way. But he’ll only get a more amenable version of you, the marksman thought. The woman’s face did appear to soften as his brother continued. “We’re a bit different from the rest of them. But with the Republic gone, none of us are soldiers anymore. Gotta find ways to make ends meet.”

The woman seemed to be opening up. Crosshair didn’t trust a minute of it. “Yeah, I know all about that. It’s hard to get by these days.” She turned to Hunter with a small smile. “I’m Dara.”

“Dara.” He smiled back at her. “Any reason we should be worried that the Empire might come looking for you, Dara?”

She shook her head. “The shuttle really was… well, not exactly a misunderstanding. I just panicked. I’ve been traveling. I was staying in a village on Takodana when the Empire began rounding up all the villagers—I have no idea why. I hid and tried to make a break for my ship, but some troopers spotted me. The shuttle was closest. I managed to take off but it took a hit before I entered hyperspace, and that was just where I ended up when my systems started failing.”

Hunter looked thoughtful. “Well, they probably won’t come after you. But I wouldn’t risk going back to Takodana. You likely won’t be getting your ship back.”

He was already heading back to his bunk when Dara spoke up again. “Thank you. I mean it. All of you.” She shot grateful looks at Tech and Crosshair in particular. “I’m lucky you found me when you did.” She was treated with another smile from Hunter as he left. Tech looked rather pleased with himself.

Crosshair leaned toward her, drinking in her beatific expression as he looked into her eyes. “Liar,” he hissed. Even as her expression remained largely impassive, her eyes glinted and nostrils flared ever-so-slightly, hinting at the snarl she was just barely containing. There, he though, leaning back satisfactorily. The knife’s edge of her self-control. That was a start.

#bad batch #clone force 99 #star wars #the bad batch #clone wars fanfiction #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #clone trooper tech

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magicalbats · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 3: Hate Sex

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 4563

Warnings: Afab!reader, virgin! Diluc, brat taming, dubious consent, themes of sexual repression, a slight hint of misogyny/slut shaming, creampie

A/N: I took detail inspiration for this reader from the electro Cicin Mage, so that's about the gist of what we're wearing here 🤤

⭐

The air in Fontaine carries with it the ever present smell of cloying salt, seaweed, and decaying things. No matter how far away from the beaches one goes, that scent will always follow them and Diluc can’t seem to decide if he hates it or not. He thinks he does. It’s quite different from the air in Mondstadt, where the wind was somehow always fresh and clean, and vaguely scented of apples. Even with the walled off city situated in the center of a giant lake he couldn’t ever recall smelling anything quite like this before, and that nostalgic thought makes him wish for home. But, on the other hand, it wasn’t necessarily a bad smell in the strictest sense either. Just different.

He almost wished he could say the same about you. That you were just different and not necessarily a giant, regrettable pain in his behind that he could — would rather do without. But he is not nearly as willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, nor half as forgiving. He knows he hates you like he knows the back of his own hand. Didn’t even need to stop and think about it. He just knew.

Because even if you weren’t Fatui scum, even if you weren’t Snezhnayan by birth and guilty by association, that still left you holding the title of most frustrating person he’s ever had the unfortunate displeasure of meeting. You were incessantly talkative, headstrong and more than a little crass at times. You liked to gloat and take from his provisions when you thought he wasn’t looking, liked to tease him and then get lippy about it when he snapped back.

Had he not been working towards the greater goal of infiltrating the Fatui undetected so he could eventually reach their inner circle, he would have long since slain you where you stood.

Diluc knows he can’t do that just yet though. Not now, or he’d be risking everything he’d worked and obsessively toiled over to accomplish. It was only you and him out on this remote stretch of Fontaine’s rolling hillsides, after all. The two of you had been tasked with a mission so simple and benign that it would have looked incredibly suspicious if you suddenly went missing out of the blue. All evidence would conclusively point to him and he’d have blown his cover for nothing more than a few short days of peaceful, glorious silence before the Tsaritsa’s hounds were hot on his heels and hungry for blood.

Oh, but wasn’t it just so tempting to think about?

“And do you know what she had the nerve to say next? She tried to say I was the problem! I couldn’t even believe it! I mean, she started it so don’t you think that’s a little messed up to try and turn it back around on me like that?”

Heaving a weary, long suffering sigh through his nose, Diluc tries very hard to ignore you. It’s been hours spent ignoring you though; he’s not even sure how you can still manage to find something to talk about given that you’ve touched on every conceivable topic he can possibly imagine, and he isn’t sure how much longer he can endure it. The trek out into the countryside should have only taken about half a day but it felt more like years had gone by since you’d set off together from the port, as if time itself had slowed to a near standstill.

But if you notice the stiff, deeply bothered way he holds his shoulders, you don’t acknowledge it. You certainly don’t let it dissuade you from prattling on and on, nor do you let his lack of a response stop you either. If he didn’t know any better, he would have almost thought he was traveling with a hyperactive toddler rather than the grown woman walking about two paces behind him.

“Of course I wasn’t going to let that stop me. It’s not like she’s my mother or anything, and we weren’t even that close to begin with. It didn’t bother me one bit, but the drill sergeant still punished both of us for causing a scene. Oh, and another thing,” You huff, the tone of your voice abruptly taking on a sharp, fine tuned point. “Don’t you think it’s rude not to listen when someone is talking to you? I thought that was the first rule of common decency.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think it’s possible to tune you out. Trust me, I’ve tried.” He grits, his leather gloves creaking softly when he clenches his hands into tight fists as his sides. “And I’m afraid you’re hardly in any position to talk about the common decency of others. What a joke.”

You outright guffaw as if he’d offended you, and a petty little part of him sorely hopes he did. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Finally giving in to the urge, Diluc pivots on his heel and spins around so fast his long ponytail goes flying and you nearly walk right into him. He’s aware he’s tempting fate with this, dominant fingers itching badly to reach for the broadsword strapped across his back, but his patience was long past the point of caring. If he didn’t find a way to shut you up soon, he was very likely going to do something he’d later regret.

But even after having him aggressively round on you, not only much bigger but physically stronger too, you still don’t seem to get it. Something in your head must not work right because you just narrow your eyes up at him in petulant challenge. “Am I supposed to be scared of you or something?”

“You probably should be.”

“Hah! Maybe in your dreams!”

Drawing a slow, deep breath, Diluc forces himself to count to ten. It does absolutely nothing to cool the flames licking at his chest, making him feel hot and ready to burst. “I suggest you quit being such a brat and actually pay attention to what’s going on around you. This isn’t going to end well if you persist.”

“Sorry, pretty boy, but I don’t take orders from you.” Stepping forward, you viciously bring your foot down on the toe of his boot and grind your heel in for good measure.

He hisses, less at the pain and more at the fresh surge of anger that swells in him, but you clearly don’t understand the difference. Looking really quite pleased with yourself, you pull back and move to step around him like that would really be the end of it. He almost couldn’t believe the gall you had.

“Now, if you would be so kind as to get your ass in gear, we can — waagh!”

Whipping around, Diluc grabs the back of your hood and jerks you back so hard it takes you right off your feet. He watches you collapse in an inelegant heap on the ground, blinking owlishly at suddenly finding yourself sitting in the grass, but he can’t quite bring himself to feel any sympathy for you. He’d wanted to avoid it coming to this out of respect for the fact you were a woman not even half his size and without even a fraction of his physical strength, but you’d just kept pushing him. You could have stopped. Should have stopped, and now you only had yourself to blame for your current predicament.

“Wha - how dare you! How dare you put your hands on me like that!” You twist to look up at him from your spot at his feet, trembling slightly with what he thinks must be impotent rage. That was well enough but it wouldn’t do you any good now. Not when he was so incensed he could practically feel his fists igniting, growing hotter with the urge to be done with you once and for all.

“When we get back I’ll be telling everyone how you treated me! And filing a report too! We’ll see how big and tough you are then won’t we, hotshot?”

Slowly, Diluc cocks his head to one side. “What makes you think you’ll be making it back from this?”

You go very still, so abruptly it’s as if someone had taken a photo of you and then superimposed it over reality. He watches the uncertainty and fear slowly start to dawn, comprehension clicking somewhere in that empty skull of yours, but it was much too late.

Your hand jerks to grab hold of your catalyst where it’s secured at your hip but he’s quicker. Easily, he slaps it right out of your grasping fingers and he isn’t sure if he finds more satisfaction in watching it skim over the grass some few feet away or the horrified look on your face. You try to rally the power of your Delusion anyway but without a physical conduit to channel it through all you manage to do is summon a few impotent sparks around you, and he puts an end to that quickly enough.

Swooping down, he snags your wrists in his hands and shoves you down on your back. The bodily thump of impact seems to punch the air out of your lungs, making you gasp harshly up at him, but he’s already got you pinned. Trapped, with no way out. Slowly sinking down onto his knees to straddle your thighs, Diluc leans over you so he can put his face in yours and you glare daggers at him, bright eyes alight from within with a wild, powerless heat.

Looking at you up close like this, he thinks you might have been pretty if only you were not so damned incorrigible.

“I advised you to stop.” He intones, low and dangerous. “You didn’t listen.”

“I don’t have to listen to you!” All but hissing and spitting, you violently twist underneath him in an attempt to dislodge him from his perch. It’s no use though. The difference in size is far too great, and he must’ve had at least a hundred pounds in pure muscle mass on you. It was obvious you were at a sore disadvantage here but, still, you try to fight him. Still, you refused to stop.

The little bit of self control he’d been desperately fighting to maintain shatters, and Diluc aggressively shoves you into the ground, hard. You choke on a frantic, incomprehensible animal sound and flail underneath him, kicking your legs out to try and somehow shove him off or twist your way free. Growling, he drops his pelvis against yours, intending to use his weight to pin you down, but the intense heat between your legs freezes him in place. You feel it too; the tight press against your core, the weight of him in his pants digging into you, and you likewise go still as a statue.

For a long, tortuous beat, the two of you just stare at each other, panting hard from the exertion as much as the flood of high strung emotions.

“Was this what you were hoping for all along?” You finally manage to get out with no shortage of effort.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” That’s what he says and yet he doesn’t move. Can’t seem to find the strength or presence of mind to do so.

Diluc had never before found himself between a woman's legs like this and there was something horribly inviting about the soft cradle of your body, the way his narrow hips slot so nicely into place between them. The cushion of your feminine curves is a welcome relief against his own hard, muscle heavy frame, and he feels a sharp stab of shameful embarrassment when his cock begins to stir against his will. Filling out and stiffening, it instinctively reaches out in search of that overwhelming source of heat coming off you.

Your eyes go big and round, flashing at him in disbelief and anger alike. “Get off me.” You hiss.

“Why should I?” He snaps right back, unable to decide which he hated more. The thought of standing his ground, actually seeing this through to the end, or backing off and letting you think you’d somehow won. He should have known better than to be so headstrong and impulsive.

“Bastard … unless you’re actually going to do something with this,” You buck your hips and pointedly roll your body against him, grinding yourself on that heavy bulge. “Then you need to back off. I don’t know who you think you are but - -“

Snarling, Diluc slams his mouth against yours just to shut you up. You let out a muffled squawk of surprise, evidently not having expected him to actually call your bluff, and he takes advantage of that to shove his tongue into your mouth, practically choking you with it. Struggling against him, you try to bite him but he just bites back in retaliation, and the kiss quickly becomes something that’s more teeth than lips. He isn’t quite sure what he’s doing or why he’s doing it, but his body seems to move with a purpose of its own.

Juggling his hold on your wrists to one hand — it was easy to do when his were so much bigger than yours — he keeps them pinned down in the grass while the other reaches up to fumble with the strap across his chest. He manages to yank it loose so that the claymore slides off his back and he quickly shoves it to the side, well out of reach, before you can try anything enterprising. Then that hand is grabbing at your waist, squeezing tight enough to make you whimper against his mouth, before roughly dragging it higher to curve over the swell of one breast. He doesn’t miss the way you flinch at the contact but he also doesn’t overlook how you shudderingly arch into him, presenting your breasts to his seeking hand.

He hadn’t exactly expected that but somehow it comes as a great relief all the same. It was clear to him now that he wasn’t going to back down no matter how much you raised the stakes or flippantly dared him to do it, whether for his own pride or this instinctive urge he felt to put you in your place …and knowing you were perhaps not so unwilling would help him feel better about this. Whatever this was.

Suddenly tearing your mouth from his while he’s distracted with your chest, you turn your head and suck in a ragged, gasping breath of air. “I didn’t take you for the sort … I thought for sure you were going to blush like a fool and change your mind.” You pant, laughter dancing in your voice. “You always act so prim and proper, like you’re so much better than everyone else.”

His annoyance starting to spike again, Diluc reaches up to grab you face in a pinching, ironclad hold and he yanks you back around, forcing you to look up at him. “That’s because I am.”

Your eyes widen slightly but he doesn’t give you the chance to think of something cute to say back. Firmly holding you in place, he claims your mouth again and this time you all but melt into him, aggressively kissing him back as your legs lock around his hips. You meet him tit for tat, matching his energy and giving him exactly what he gives you. For every punishing bite of his teeth, you nip him right back until the bitter taste of blood floods his tongue. For every eager, grinding thrust of his pelvis you roll your body into his and press up hard on the weight in his slacks. You’re evenly matched in this regard, it seemed; and eventually, reluctantly, he releases your wrists.

Hands flying up, you viciously grab at his hair, one set of fingers digging into his scalp while the other latches onto his ponytail and tugs. He snarls into your mouth and, to his surprise, you growl right back. Spurned on, Diluc blindly reaches down to yank at your top, shoving your sleek jacket aside so he can pull at the flimsy material keeping your breasts from him. They spill out in a sudden flood of fleshy, bountiful skin but he barely has enough time to even acknowledge this fact, let alone appreciate it.

For your hands are wildly tearing at his own jacket, his own collar, and he grimaces at the quiet snap of latches and hooks giving out under the force. He can’t help but feel like he’s losing, somehow. Like against all the odds stacked against you, you’ve managed to one up him by meeting him head on like this. He thinks this game of chicken probably ended some time ago and now you were just a woman and a man battling it out for dominance, clashing in the deep rooted, primal way the sexes have always clashed, but he wanted so badly to best you. To put you in your place and remind you which one of you was truly in control here.

It certainly wasn’t you and, growling low in his throat, Diluc pulls back with a decisive motion so he can grab at the lower half of your tight bodysuit. He can’t figure out how to get it off without taking the time to completely undress you though. It’s too complicated, too many snaps and hooks. Completely ignoring your gasping protests, he takes two big handfuls of the form fitting material and tears it open at the crotch. The smell of charred, burning fibers immediately hits his nose and he has to remind himself to keep his Vision under control as you yelp and squawk, loudly complaining about having your outfit not only ripped but singed too.

In any other situation he would have been deeply embarrassed at losing control like that, about letting his self control slip enough to allow flames to lick along his fingertips, but not now. Not when he’s looking down at your cute, pudgy little cunt; so soft and inviting, and glistening faintly in the sunlight. Feeling light headed and dizzy, and like he’s having some kind of out of body experience while someone else dictates his actions, he reaches down to free his straining cock with quick, jerky motions.

Distantly, he’s aware of you hemming and hawing, and he thinks you’re probably trying to (rightfully) tell him off for being such a brute about it. He can’t seem to stop though and, guiding himself in one hand, he quickly lines up with your body and starts to push inside. You go ramrod stiff at the press of his tip sinking into your folds and creases, sliding along sticky wet lips until he catches at your entrance. The heat is immediately overwhelming and indescribable, his mouth falling open to groan but nothing comes out. It’s hard just to breathe when the profound sensation of having his cock gripped by the tight, wet warmth of your body seems to overload all his senses and short circuit his brain all at once. Suddenly all he can focus on is the way you take him, inch by staggering inch, the fit snug but accommodating when your cunt slowly relents under the pressure and grants him entry. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before, the backs of his eyes stinging as he finally finishes pressing his pelvis into yours, seated in you straight down to the base.

The sound of you groaning softly, as if in a hushed, half delirious daze, brings him back to the moment. Forces his reeling consciousness to return, and he looks down at you, spread open for him in the grass. You don’t seem to really even notice or care that your tits are hanging out in the open for anyone who might happen by to see (there hasn’t been another soul for miles now) or that your legs are shamelessly spread wide around his waist without so much as a hint of shame to show for it (not that you could have closed them even if you’d want to) and that strikes a particularly resentful chord within him.

Archons, he really did hate you. He’d thought women were supposed to be prone to subtlety, demure restraint and timid reservation when engaging with a man like this and yet … here you are, arching under him like a whore and impatiently bucking your hips, urging him to move. It was filthy. Disgraceful. Lurid in a way that made him feel dirty by association.

And he’d never been so turned on in all his life.

A deep, rumbling moan vibrates through his chest as he leans over you, pressing his face into the sweat-dampened crook of your neck. He tries to catch his breath, tries to ignore the way your guts eagerly squeeze around his cock as if you were trying to milk the soul right out of him, and he fails miserably on both fronts. Digging his fingers into the soil and grass in an attempt to steady himself, he draws a heavy, shaking breath.

“You’d better not misinterpret this as me liking you.” He grumbles, giving his hips an experimental thrust. All he seems to succeed in doing is rocking against you though, his cock wedged so deep inside your cunt it would have taken a miracle to pull him out.

“Funny. I was just thinking the same thing.” You sigh, dreamy and distant, and not nearly as affected by this as he’d (hoped?) expected you to be.

Realizing he’s going to have to move in earnest if he wants to change that, Diluc shifts against you to better settle on his knees and give himself the leverage he needed. You moan very quietly at the redistribution of his weight, only to choke on an incoherent exclamation when he angles his cock back, luxuriating in the stilted drag, and the following snap of his hips. The force of the thrust nudges you where you’re laying on the ground, and he can tell by the way your expression pinches and darkens that you like it. So he does it again and then again, quickly settling into a rhythm that leaves him panting over top of you, groaning at the mind numbing squeeze of your body.

The quiet sound of skin slapping against skin seems to dominate the air on this lonely little stretch of picturesque mountains and hills, serving as an efficient beat to time his thrusts to. He loses himself in it, lets it swallow him up and drown him in a way he’s never quite allowed himself to get swept up in anything else. So focused on driving his cock into you, he almost misses you reaching up for his ponytail only to snarl low in his chest when you suddenly jerk on it, pulling his attention down. So much for that idea, then.

“Your mind is wandering.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Unlike you,” He manages to grit out. “I have a sense of propriety and I’m trying to imagine doing this somewhere a bit more appropriate.”

The grin that cuts across your face is a little mean, but mostly full of mischief. “I don’t buy that for one second, hotshot. It’s all you can do just to stop yourself from blowing right here and now, isn’t it?”

Diluc’s once (relatively) steady thrusts falter, surprise washing over him and turning his cheeks hot. “Crass woman.” He murmurs, bending close to catch your mouth again — to shut you up, he tells himself. Strictly just to shut up.

Of course it wasn’t because he enjoyed the taste of you on his tongue, nor did he really find having sex with you all that exciting. It was just his body reacting as it was naturally inclined to do and nothing more.

That’s why he slips a hand between his body and yours so he can fondle your breasts with his gloved hand, but he certainly doesn’t like the way your stiff nipples slip and slide against the smooth material. That’s why he doesn’t stop you when, mewling with an increased tinge of urgency, you reach down to rub hasty circles over the apex of your slit, and he most assuredly does not enjoy watching you play with yourself or the way it makes your guts clamp down on him even tighter. It’s why he fucks into you faster, harder, as if his hips have a mind of their own, and they quickly start to stumble over the rhythm he’d fallen into, but he doesn’t find much joy in the way his balls tighten and draw up, so close to the edge he could practically taste it.

It’s just a means to an end, he tries desperately to tell himself, even as he throws his head back and practically roars up at the sky, shooting rope after hot rope deep into your waiting cunt. You let out a tiny little yelp of surprise and then moan so luridly it sends another rush of orgasmic bliss racing down his spine to settle there. For a brief moment he worries he’s going to pass out, the force of his release was just that strong, and the way you tighten your legs around his waist to hold him there, keeping him in place, so you can grind on him and frantically rub your clit doesn’t help him in the slightest. Seething through his teeth at the overstimulation to his spent cock, he watches you shatter and jerk, falling into a fit of spasms that makes your tits jiggle and bounce. The sight alone is almost enough to have him springing up at attention again but he quickly disengages himself from you before that can come to fruition when you finally loosen your hold on him a moment later.

Shifting back to survey the damage, he’s immediately hit with an intense, suffocating sense of regret when he sees the creamy discharge slowly oozing out of your body in a sticky rivulet. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He blurts, the sincere note of apology in his voice surprising even him.

“You probably shouldn’t have.” You agree, still basking in the afterglow of your release and evidently quite content there in the grass. “But what’s done is done. I’ll take care of it later.”

“When?” He demands, his tone hardening enough to make you glance up.

With a wicked smile, you lift one leg into the air and reach down under your thigh to press your fingers into the meat of your pussy, pulling yourself open just to further taunt him. “If you’re so worried about it then why don’t you come clean up this mess you made yourself? It shouldn’t be my responsibility just because you can’t control yourself.”

His face flushing profusely, Diluc quickly finds his feet and sets about putting himself in order with sharp, jerky motions. Strangely though, that blinding anger he’d felt not even twenty minutes ago seems to have dissipated in the lingering haze of his orgasm, and he curses under his breath. Apparently you were going to live to see another day. “You are truly the most filthy, incorrigible woman I have ever seen. I really can’t stand you.”

You snicker as he turns away, lilting voice trailing after him when he moves to retrieve his sword from the ground. “Believe me, the feeling is resoundingly mutual.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #self insert bullshit

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justrainandcoffee · 28 days

Text

The Wandering Jew (Alfie Solomons x fem!OC)

"Welcome to end of the World", Alfie said.

Alfie x Rose Masterlist

Summary: It was like an apocalyptic movie. First it wasn't that bad, or that was people thought, until it was that bad. Rose landed in London with the idea of returning home a week and a half later, but few days after that, the PM decided to close everything. His flight was cancelled and getting a new one was an impossible mission. The world is facing a new era and she's there trapped in an Inn, in a distant city with a complete stranger and his dog.

Warnings: Just topics related to covid-19.

Words: 2K. || I'm rewriting the first chapters I posted last year. I changed several things and I'm happier now. You can find the rest of their modern story here.

Series masterlist.

18th March 2020.

The world was starting to panic because of the new virus created in China. Or maybe it was a sick bat that, like a domino effect, caused thousands of deaths already. China was closed, countries around it, too. Italy was collapsing slowly and the WHO already declared that this new virus, called COVID-19, was a pandemic.

Yet, millions of people continued with their lives as always. Working, going to classes, visiting friends or relatives and others, like Rose, were travelling.

Born in London in 1988, Rose Coldwell was returning to her city after eight years living in New York where she moved with her mother and two brothers. She received an important job offer back then and the money was beneficial for the four of them. Louis, her youngest brother went to high school and Samuel, the second brother, begun to study law in a good college there. Now the youngest was studying architecture and Samuel was part of a law firm in Manhattan.

Rose, on the other hand, ran her own fashion blog and had a small business. Nothing too extraordinary, but something that made her happy. After several years of sending mails and filling out forms to be part of any international fashion event and equal numbers of rejections, she sent a mail to be part of an international convention there in London and she was accepted. 2020, it was going to be an unforgettable year, she thought.

And she was right… but the reasons were going to be quite different.

The plane landed and she felt she was returning home like the prodigal son, or daughter. Not even once since she left the country she returned there and it was a pleasant feeling to be back on her land.

Some people around her in the airport were walking fast avoiding the multitude. Some were wearing masks, some not. A woman wearing one was offering alcohol to sanitize people's hands. An old man sneezed and caused several disgusted faces from people around him.

'Probably he's just allergic,' she thought.

While she was waiting for her baggage, she checked her phone. Her mother called her several times and also one of her brothers. She ignored them for now, once she was in her bedroom, she'd be able to call them.

"I think he needs to close everything."

Rose heard two men talking near her, one already had his suitcase, but the other not.

"Johnson already denied that, Luke. We're safe, he said."

"And you believe him?" the one named Luke, asked. "Give the virus a couple of days and we're doom, Fred."

Rose's heart started to beat fast. The fact that she was on the other side of the ocean away from her family, suddenly terrified her. But she shooed those thoughts from her mind. The UK under a strict lockdown sounded ridiculous.

The Wandering Jew was an Inn that opened its doors in 2017. The most popular in all Candem Town and its surroundings. Rated by its guests with five stars in websites like booking.com and full of positive feedback.

The Wandering Jew had over 60 rooms and five of them were almost a suite. Not like a the ones you would find in the most expensive hotels, but still quite elegant.

But most of all, The Wandering Jew had a man named Alfie Solomons, the owner.

Alfie bought the building, that was about to be demolished, in 2016 and hired people to reconstruct it. From engineers and architects to construction workers. One and a half years later, it was finished it. It costed him several thousands pounds but it was worth and he was happy with it.

His apartment was above the Inn, so he never really left that place, except to walk his dog and closest friend: Cyril. Every late afternoon it was common to see both of them walking out the Inn to go to a park and spend an hour or two there.

During the day, while Alfie was behind the reception counter, Cyril usually was sleeping next to his feet or greeting some guests.

And that was exactly what Cyril did that 18th of March.

The reception was empty in that moment, most of the guests were out visiting some places and few others were sleeping or at least they were in their bedrooms. Cyril had been chewing his favourite tennis ball, when he heard a taxi and he stood up quickly. The dog ran towards the glass door and spied from there. Alfie barely paid attention to him.

Cyril was excited. He didn't know her, but the dog was still happy. He could smell her as soon as she left the taxi and now that he could see her, his tail was wagging faster than before. His excitement caused to Alfie to finally raise his eyes from the newspaper and put attention to Cyril who was now hopping.

Alfie saw Rose for the first time while she was pushing the glass door with her body. In one hand she had her baggage and in the other her phone. She was speaking with someone and was clearly upset. And had every reason to be mad. The one on the other side of the line, was a bastard whose only purpose in his life was to harass her. No matter how many times she blocked him, he always get a new number to call her.

"Go and fuck yourself, dickhead!"

Alfie was amused, without no doubts that was the best entrance ever. And a very pretty one.

He saw her sliding her phone in her pocket and then watching at Cyril who seemed to be more than happy after she petted him gently. Cyril ran towards Alfie and barked at him.

"Did you see her? Did you?" He seemed to say.

"Calm down, boy," Alfie said to the animal and then he looked at her who was already in front of him at the reception counter. "I'm sorry, he's usually quieter."

"Don't worry, he's nice! And I love dogs." Rose smiled at him and he did the same. "I booked for a room online, two weeks ago. Coldwell is my last name," she told him.

After giving him her ID, and while he was checking the information she paid attention to the place. She had already seen several photos online and she liked it but the Inn was really nice. The paintings on the walls were warm and several represented the sea. A plant over the counter called Wandering Jew, like the Inn itself, captured her attention. Her mother used to have that kind of plans when they lived in London. She asked herself if the Inn's name was because of those plants or there was another reason.

"Everything is okay, Ms. Coldwell," he said giving her ID back and also a key "Room 44. Welcome and I hope you enjoy your days here."

"Thanks! I will!"

"Every room has a phone that communicates directly with this one," he said pointing at a black one over the counter, "if you need anything you can call me... us. Call us."

Rose chuckled and nodded "Thanks…"

"Alfred. Alfie."

"Thanks, Alfie."

Two days later, the 20th of March, it was obvious that things were out of control. Hospitals were saturated, the numbers of sick people were increasing, flights become to be a necessity and there weren't enough planes. Countries like Italy, Greece and France were collapsing under the virus. And several of them closed their frontiers. Boris Johnson had already a rope around his neck but he refused to start a quarantine yet.

"No, I'm not admitting new guests," Alfie said to the person who called the Inn "I'm sorry."

His right hand, Ollie, was next to him. Both of them were waiting news from the government but there was nothing except empty words and promises about a bright future.

The convention were Rose had to go was cancelled because the organisers were sick and it was suspended. And in top of that she received an email saying that her original flight to return home was cancelled. The company gave her the money back but they didn't say anything about a reschedule.

She returned to the Inn that afternoon only to see in the TV that was in the reception, that there were riots everywhere. Demanding a lockdown, demanding more medical assistance and some demanded Johnson's and the Queen's heads.

Both men, Rose and an old woman were paying attention to the BBC journalist who was in front of one of the hospitals.

"Welcome to the end of the world," Alfie commented.

He wasn't that wrong.

The night of the 22th of March, it was chaotic. Finally the lockdown was imminent and some people was already leaving the Inn. Ollie, who worked the night shift, was giving them their money back for the days that they couldn't stay. That night Rose didn't sleep. She tried to get a flight and she could hear her mother's voice in her head "you should listen to me."

And yes, Mary Coldwell was right but it was too late now for any regrets. Rose needed to return with her family, the thing was how.

The next morning it was officially confirmed the beginning of the quarantine. Alfie again behind the counter, was attending the remaining guests who were living the Inn. Including those who refused to leave. One particular woman was complaining about the lockdown and she was basically blaming Alfie because of that.

Alfie was trying to remain calmed but this Karen wasn't making things easy.

"You can't expelled me like that. I paid for my bedroom for three weeks and I've been here for only one. I want to stay here for three weeks!"

"But you can't. You can go to 10 Downing Street and talk with the Prime Minister about your holidays, if you want. I'm just a citizen following these new rules, ma'am. Pick up your belongings and get in your car and return home. Stay there until the Quarantine is over."

Rose was sitting on one of the armchairs at the reception. Phone in hand, refreshing the airlines website every two seconds, but not avail. Everything was collapsed and there wasn't any flights. The news showed people sleeping on floors and she knew that was her fate and she was really upset. So hearing that woman was ending with her patience.

"I'm going to sue you, you'll see! And you're going to regret it! This is a complete nonsense! There's no such thing as a virus!! It's the media! And the left and…"

"Shut the fuck up, for once! Fuck!"

Both Alfie and the woman stared at Rose who was frowning. The first one smiled, but the woman seemed offended.

"I didn't pay to be insultated!"

"I'm doing this for free," Rose replied.

Gasping, the woman warned Alfie with a lawyer one last time and left the Inn, according to her, to search a better place to stay. She found none.

The rest of the guests left the Inn without drama and by 4pm only Rose remained there. From all the guests that The Wandering Jew had there at the moment, she was the only one living in United States, the rest were all over Britain. In consequence, the only one having problems was Rose.

"Any luck?" Alfie asked watching her with her phone still in hand.

"No. Not really. My brother is trying to help from his home but he's not having luck either."

"You can stay here for tonight if you want," Alfie said.

"I was planning to go to the airport and stay there."

"Sleeping on the cold tiles in middle of a pandemic? I'm sorry but it sounds risky."

"But…"

"I hanged the sign. For everyone here, the Inn is closed. Don't worry."

"Just for tonight, I promise," she said.

Alfie agreed.

"Just tonight."

How wrong both of them were.

#alfie solomons #alfie x rose #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x ofc #tom hardy #peaky blinders #modern au #the wandering jew

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