#Fifth Tag Just For Safety's Sake

[hotteoki]

until i found you (l.y.b.)

pairing: lee yongbok/felix x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

warnings: /

notes: let’s pretend for the sake of this fic that gold watch felix doesn’t exist… 😃

💋

©️ hotteoki | do not repost

felix was your first love, your only love. when you first started dating, you both knew already that eventually, it was inevitable that you would break up. it was impossible for first relationships to ever last forever. despite that, you continued on the relationship, only praying that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance of it being permanent.

the relationship shockingly went on longer than all your classmates and parents predicted, 3 years of being with your soulmate, or so you were convinced. needless to say, you experienced your first ever heartbreak when felix broke the news to you about moving back to korea to jumpstart his idol life.

you were grateful that he, at least, was clearly upset about leaving you. that way you could remember your first relationship as mutually loving, that it wasn't one-sided.

you remembered sending him off at the airport, holding back tears, and keeping up your composure. seeing his shimmering eyes welling up had made you want to cry as well, but you had forced yourself to swallow the growing lump in your throat. that day had been well over 5 years ago, yet you still remembered it like it was yesterday.

of course, you had attempted long-distance with him, but school for you and training for him was too overwhelming, and eventually you lost contact, wondering whether pressing that call button of the other's number would change anything.

it hurt even more to see him all over the internet now. you were beyond proud of him, of course, he had always dreamt of being a singer, but it hurt knowing that felix had probably forgotten all about you. surely, by now, he would have gotten into tons more relationships, right? far more than you, anyway. it's not like you haven't gone on dates, it was just that none of them could ever compare the true love you felt for felix.

so when you travelled to korea during the winter holidays with your friends, you secretly prayed to somehow, if the stars had finally managed to align, you would cross paths with felix again. "maybe you'll bump into him on the street or something!" it was meant to be a joke, but deep down, you honestly did want that to happen.

after spending the entire day walking around the busy streets of seoul, you were exhausted. laying on one of the grand beds and waiting for the bathroom to be free, you noticed you were still feeling a bit hungry. jumping up and to the door, you announced to your friends of your leaving the hotel. yuna, the only one who wasn’t currently in the toilet doing her nightly routine, had offered to tag along, worried for your safety. "it's fine, it's right next to the hotel, they'll be hotel security watching."

she was unconvinced, but you had already ran off. (do not ever let your friends go out the dark alone, this is purely for the plot of the fic, i promise you will not meet a handsome korean man in the middle of the night. stay safe ladies <3) truthfully? you hoped you could somehow catch felix in the convenience store. you knew the chances were impossibly low, but you weren't going to leave korea with your head filled with 'what ifs?'

rummaging through the shelves, you weren't even sure what you wanted to buy. you had collected a few snacks for your friends, but you had cravings for almost everything in the cursed store, and you didn't have enough money to pay, even if you had ditched the others' food.

after putting down the cup noodles for the fifth time, you sighed deeply, knowing picking it up and down wouldn't make money magically appear in your pocket. just as you were about to walk away, a taller figure leaned over you, taking the exact cup noodle package you had been fiddling with for the past few minutes.

your first instinct was to push the person away. looking up to meet the stranger's eyes, still slightly stunned from the sudden intruding, your fear was quickly replaced with genuine surprise. “felix,” you winced at the harshness of your tone; you meant it as more of a greeting. “hey again.” you were convinced his voice was hand crafted by angels themselves.

without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in a warm hug. you hadn’t even realised you had returned it instinctively until he pulled away, causing your arms to fall to your side. “what are you doing here in korea? i thought you’d be back home?” home. you couldn’t resist the widening smile on your face. felix still considered australia his home.

“i came here as a getaway with my friends. work has been crazy overwhelming,” you rubbed your neck, fidgeting under his gaze. you couldn’t bear to meet his eyes; there was no way he still had feelings for you, you probably mistook the kindness in his eyes as adoration. or even love.

felix sighed, taking your items from your hold and placing them in his basket, beginning to walk down the aisle, “tell me about it. we’ve been preparing for our new song and i think the stress is getting to all of us. it’s actually why i came down here, to get away from the pressure, you know?” you trailed beside him, playing with your fingers subconsciously. not once did you consider how stressful an idol’s job could be, you had kind of expected it to be more carefree than a regular job, considering they didn’t exactly have a 9-5 schedule.

“how’s the idol life going? loving your fans?” you forced a smile, pushing the big question you so badly wanted to ask him down your throat. “yeah, of course. stays are the best, i wish i could meet them all and just, you know, say thank you. i wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without them.” you stopped in your step, “you know that’s not true, you’ve always been talented in music.”

felix laughed, blushing from the compliment, “thank you. but enough about me, how’s your life going?” you continued down the aisle in thought, him following along. you weren’t so sure telling your ex boyfriend whom you still had feelings for that you dumped so many guys because of him was such a good idea. you chose to settle for the safer route, “well, i got my dream job, and it’s going pretty well, which, thank the lord.”

he nodded in understanding, “yeah, i remember you saying how scared you were about getting a job you hated and having to live with that.” you had been so busy talking you hadn’t even realised felix had paid for your items as well. “oh, no, it’s okay, i’ll pay you back, wait,” you panicked, reaching for your wallet. “no, no, it’s fine, i insist,” he placed a hand on your wrist, guiding the both of you out the convenience store, “it’s honestly okay.”

he held out the smaller plastic bag to you, “there’s yours.” you received it, and couldn’t help noticing the significantly larger bag he clutched in his other hand. felix smiled sheepishly, “i promise i’m not crazy. it’s for the others.” “ah.” there was a silence before he smiled again, “do you want to come back to the building with me and meet the other guys?” panic began to rise in your chest again. although you knew felix when you were both 17, he could very well have completely changed now. you were also convinced going to an unknown building at 12 at midnight was a one way ticket to danger.

felix, seemingly sensing your unease, added, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to! please don’t feel obliged to.” you contemplated. on one hand, you finally reunited with felix, the person whom you’ve loved for years, hoping every day you could see him again; but on the other hand, not only would your friends be worried sick, but you were aware of the risks of going back with a not-so stranger at night.

finally deciding on a plan, you offered, “meet here tomorrow at 12 in the afternoon?” oh, the gleam in felix’s eyes made you want to succumb into his very being so bad. “i’ll see you then.”

“you’re kidding.” you were gathered around on one of the beds with your friends, telling them about your encounter with felix. “you proved me wrong so quickly,” millie tsked, throwing herself back onto the pillows. “i still can’t believe it. genuinely, what are the chances?” yuna crossed her arms, staring in wonder. “that’s not the point now, though, is it?” leah settled everyone down with that statement. she crossed her arms, turning to you, “the point is that you’re meeting up with an ex boyfriend, the only one who you’ve ever truly been in love with,” she paused, sighing at your disappointed look,

"i don’t mean that it’s a bad thing, darling, i know you love him, but we have to approach this realistically, right? the relationship ended because felix had to move back. even if you were to date him again, eventually we’re going back to australia,” leah tried reasoning gently, placing a hand on your knee. you remained silent. she was right. “that being said, you can still meet him, but it would be really dangerous for your feelings…” tara chimed in, trailing off. “i honestly think staying here with us is the safest path, but if you’re willing to take a risk,” leah shrugged. for felix? you’d take any and all risks for him.

of course you didn’t tell him of your dilemma. how could you? seeing the little hops in his every step brightened your day immediately. the girls had been reasonably disheartened that you couldn’t join them for their shopping, but you knew they had tried not to let it show by waiting with you at to the store until felix arrived.

“have you had lunch yet?” felix prodded, not wanting you to go about the day without the energy you needed. nodding, you allowed him to lead you down the road, towards the infamous jyp building. you had silently wished he would hold your hand like he always used to, but you also knew that any bit of hope should be crushed right then and there. this wasn’t the felix you dated years ago, this is another felix. an unfamiliar one, who has a new online persona, and even though he smells exactly like he used to, has the same smile, still as caring as before, this wasn’t your felix.

one step into the building and you already wanted to run away. this was a horrible idea. the sweet tone of felix greeting the staff practically turned you into a puddle, and you knew right then and there that you needed to leave immediately before an inevitable messy situation comes up.

just as you were about to protest about going back to your friends, you were interrupted by hyunjin and jeongin. you had recognised them plenty of times from social media. feeling obliged to stay now, you smiled awkwardly at their warm welcomings.

introducing yourself as well, you hadn't failed to notice their smiles falter at the mention of your name. you unwillingly began jumping to conclusions. did felix talk badly about you? did you do something just now to offend them? was it your outfit? did they know who you were?

you did fail to catch, however, was how felix's entire face flushed with red at the un-subtleness of his friends. they knew exactly just how in love with you he still was, he had never moved on, how could he? you were the love of his life, the one made just for him. no other girl he went on time-wasting dates with could ever compare to you.

felix was only slightly glad they pulled you away to their dance practice room to meet the other members, he needed time to recollect his thoughts, wait for his burning cheeks to cool down and return his speeding heartbeat to normal.

it was way too long before felix could pull you away for some alone time again. realistically, it was probably around 10 minutes or so, and it would've been longer had chan not caught felix's sulking eyes over his friends hogging the girl he had longed to reunite with for years. chan knew the reason why felix's relationships never lasted and why he was picky about going on dates.

felix's nervous mood throughout your lunch together in the now empty practice room was contagious, you now felt paranoid too. "are you okay?" you tried to ask casually, placing the leftover rubbish of your lunch down beside you. his eyes flew to meet yours, his jittery behaviour was unlike him. "yeah, no, i'm fine, i just..." he breathed in, swallowing with difficulty, "i haven't seen you in a long time." oh.

"it's..." he sighed, running a hand through his hair, leaning back against the mirrored wall, resting his other hand on his knees. "this year's been tough for me. i was in a really dark space and i wasn't sure what to do, you know? i would always think back to how you would be the one i'd run to whenever i needed someone to talk to, and how i could trust you with anything," he paused, looking for any indications of discomfort on your expression. your smile allowed him to visibly relax, his shoulders dropping.

"i have to admit that," he hesitated, before continuing reluctantly, "i was convinced that i would never fall in love again." another pause. "unless it's you i fall into," felix's voice grew quieter and quieter, as if he was uncertain whether he should go on or not. leaning over slightly and reaching for his hand, you squeezed it once, giving him reassurance. you were honestly surprised you weren't full on crying with joy. he still loved you.

felix seemed more sure of himself, but his words still failed him as they came out shakily, "i was... lost. i was lost within the darkness. nothing helped. i tried putting my emotions into singing, but i still felt that burning pain inside." your heart ached at his words. you felt guilty for doubting his feelings for you, all this time you thought he had long moved on.

"but then i found you." you finally saw it. your eyes connected with his and it was unmistakable. the love in his eyes was true. he stood up, and for a second you thought he was about to run away, but he tugged on your interlocked hands, indicating for you to follow.

now that you were standing parallel to him, felix held out something in his hand. how long had he been holding that for? he probably fished it out of his pocket while standing up. you took the item in your hands, before realising it was the necklace you gifted him the day he left. he kept it.

it was a simple, silver necklace with your initial and his chained together. you stared up at him, unsure of what exactly he wanted you to do with it. "i never wore it because of how much it reminded me of you, and it hurt to be reminded every day of how it's possible that i would never see you again."

you remained silent. you knew that once you clasped the chain around his neck, you're done for. you'd never be able to let him go. you were conflicted. this was your dream come true, reconciling with your first and only love; but on the other hand, you had your whole life in australia, everything you'd ever worked for was there.

but felix was here. he's right here, right in front of you.

wrapping your arms around him, you connected the clips of the necklace. your arms remained there, and you pressed your cheek against his chest, breathing in his scent. felix enveloped your figure in his hold, his head resting atop yours.

although your voice came out slightly muffled, what you said next brought the biggest grin on his face. "i'll never let you go again like i did before." you had a hell of a story to tell your friends.

#lee felix #felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #yongbok x reader #stray kids felix #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jeongin x reader #minho x reader #bang chan x you #christopher bang #i.n on top #jisung x reader

[crimeronan]

this is the last anon [the one abt the rp thats similar to princess luz au] here are some Fun similarities i noticed: third guy says their sane but is actually insane BUT by comparison to those two they look Fine. royal is deeply deeply worried for the guards safety, especially bc their parents want them dead. royal and guard sleep in the same bed and later third guy joins them. royal and guard have some deeply fucked up relationship that no one can put to words. guard hides a LOT of the shit they go through for royals sake. "i am her dog. woof." guard dog metaphor means so much to me.. guard is distressingly obedient to the royal. like the royal would never abuse that, so its Fine, but for fucks sake you two.. royal and guard have a panic attack if the other is not in the room with them. i demand a shorter leash energy the adults in the castle who are Deeply Concerned about the mess that is royal and guard and are parental figures. royal kills their parents. for context: three separate guys take up "third guy" role throughout the rp. first 1 guy then later 2 other guys come along and first guy gets lumped in as part of the "insane co-dependent dynamic" by comparison. fifth guy [as ill dub him] and guard just fucking Hate Each Other in the weirdest way possible. fifth guy also has a "cant ever imagine loving anyone that much" moment.

KICKING MY FEEEEEEET THIS RP SOUNDS LIKE A BLAST AND ALSO YOU GET IT. and also i'm flattered and thrilled and giggly about you spending enough time in my AU tag to draw all these parallels in the first place

i love mess i love dysfunction i love codependency i love conflict i love secrets i love murder. WOOF

#replies #princess luz AU #toh #kicks my feet and rolls around in it

[criticalhittune]

Okay I don’t, uh

I’m not maintagging this one because I Know it is testy but I swear, friends

that if Caleb’s furious-interrogation cheek kiss which was like. honestly kind of creepy, like, even as a gesture of reminding-your-asshole-friend-to-be-less-of-an-asshole trying to kiss someone who has no way of refusing is creepy, to Drow Torturer Boi gets more traction in the fandom than Nott’s whole-entire-ass heartfelt confession of love before she changed (maybe) irrevocably

I fucking swear to god y'all

I Fucking Swear To God

#cr spoilers //// #spoilers /// #third tag /// #Fourth tag //// #Fifth Tag Just For Safety's Sake /// #Critical Role

[shin-city]

Damage Control [Katsuki Bakugo x Reader]

pairing: prohero!bakugo x sidekick!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

word count: 3.7K

tags: sexual content, oral sex (female & male receiving), praise kink, semi-public sex

a/n: well that’s one way to overcome your fear of elevators

~

“Fifty-thousand dollars in damages!” you reiterated to the fiery man in front of you, who made no effort to mask his indifference towards what you were saying to him. He didn’t even bother looking at you until you’d thrown the invoice from the city on his desk, offering you a stale, blank stare. That look usually served as your warning that you were on thin ice, but you were too agitated to heed it.

“Are you even listening to me right now, Bakugo?”

The blonde rolled his eyes before setting his brows into that signature frown. “It’d be damn hard not to with all the yelling you’re doing.”

You let out a sardonic laugh, not believing that him of all people had a problem with yelling. Working with him for so long was the reason you even yelled so much in the first place. “Well, don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Bakugo grunted lowly, glaring as you chastised him. He hated when you reprimanded him like this. He hadn’t put in all of that hard work over the years to become a pro hero, just to have to answer to others for his actions. Especially you- his sidekick. While he didn’t treat you as his lesser just because of your title (not as much as he used to, anyways), he still expected you to treat and speak to him respectfully.

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry?” he scoffed. “Just send the invoice to All Might; he’ll take care of it. He always does.”

“We can’t just keep expecting him to cover the costs of you being irresponsible. And even if we could, it isn’t just about the money. It doesn’t look good. What if you get in trouble with the Hero Public Safety Commission? What if your hero ranking goes down, or worse- you get demoted entire-”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched as he slammed a fist on his desk to shut you up, your body jumping and your eyes widening consequently. He didn’t mean to startle you so much, but he did relish in the submissive way you looked at him as a result.

“Do I pay you to bitch at me about how I look to the public?” he challenged.

You blinked at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about.

“Pay me? You don’t pay me anything! I’m your sidekick, not your publicist.”

“Exactly,” he retorted. “So why don’t you quit acting like one, and leave it to the people who are supposed to handle it- like a good little sidekick.”

This particular comment had you fuming, and he could tell as you stood there with your arms crossed and a frown on your flushing face.

Cute, he thought, before dismissing the rumination.

“My quirk is explosion,” Bakugo continued. “Shit is going to get blown up. If you don’t like it, then maybe you should’ve applied to work under a different hero. There are plenty of sidekicks who would kill for the opportunity to be where you are right now.”

He was only bluffing. He’d never say it to you, or even himself, but Bakugo wouldn’t want you working with another hero; nor would he want to work with another sidekick. His hero office had plenty, and yet he chose you. He always chose you. Though, clearly you weren’t confident in his loyalty to you, because his words had tugged at your heartstrings more than he intended.

It wasn’t like you only cared about how he looked to the public. You cared about him in general, which was why you were so hard on him about things like this, but clearly he didn’t realize that.

“M-maybe I should’ve!” you snapped, desperately hoping that he hadn’t seen the glint of moisture in your eyes. “I would’ve taken Izuku up on his offer if I’d known you’d be so difficult to work with!”

Bakugo blinked at you, his head tilting to one side as he registered what you’d said. Midoriya had asked you to be his sidekick after graduating from UA, and several more times after that. You’d never mentioned this to Bakugo before, and you were smart not to. Anything that had to do with your green-haired friend triggered Bakugo to some extent; which was why saying that was the perfect ammunition to retaliate his comment- even if you didn’t realize it.

“What the hell do you mean you would’ve ‘taken Izuku up on his offer’!” he called after you, but you were already turning on your heels, storming out of his office and toward the elevator. You hated taking the elevator, and on any other day you would’ve taken the stairs; but at that moment you needed to get as far away from Katsuki Bakugo as fast as you could. You weren’t sure you’d be able to live with yourself if he saw you cry.

Over the pattering of your rushed footsteps, you hadn’t even heard him exit his office in pursuit of you. All you were focused on was getting out of there, and you were grateful that the elevator was already there on the fifth floor when you pushed the button to summon it. You wiped a stray tear from your eye as you stepped in, pressing the ‘1’ button, followed by the button used to close the doors; but they only managed to close halfway before a hand appeared between them, halting the process.

Before you knew it, an irate Bakugo was stalking into the elevator. He glowered at you as the doors shut behind him, though his expression eased when he noticed the tears that threatened to spill onto your cheeks.

“H-hey...why the hell are you crying?!” Bakugo stared at you incredulously, not believing the sight in front of him. He’d never seen you cry before.

You wiped furiously at your eyes, turning your back toward him as you did so. You made no effort to respond to him, especially once the elevator finally started moving. He frowned as you ignored him, glancing at the elevator’s digital display of what floor you were on. He watched anxiously as the numbers passed.

4...

3...

2...

 He couldn’t let you get to the first floor. He worried that if you left in this state, you might not come back. Or worse: you’d go running to Deku. He couldn’t have that.

Bakugo clenched his hand into a tight fist and before he could stop himself he was punching through the control panel of the elevator, ripping out some of the wires as he retracted his fist. The elevator immediately screeched to a halt, stopping just between the second and first floors. He turned to face you, who was now looking at him with sheer panic etched on your features. You were scared enough of elevators already, and this was like a nightmare come true.

“Have you lost your damn mind?!” you yelled as the ominous sparking of the control panel died down.

“Have you? What’s with all...this? Over an invoice?” he matched your tone, gesturing wildly at your distressed state.

You exhaled an exasperated sigh, shaking your head at him. “You don’t get it, do you? It isn’t just about the invoice.”

Bakugo took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down for your sake. He knew he could be difficult to talk to at times and he didn’t want to say anything that might scare you off. Though, it wasn’t like you could go anywhere anyways. “I don’t. Tell me so that I can fix it.”

You gave him a quizzical look, perplexed at the sudden decline in the volume of his voice. It almost made you want to give in and tell him what was on your mind but in fear of inciting another argument, you decided against it. Besides, you were now focused on the illusory feeling of the elevator walls closing in on you. You stood in the corner farthest from Bakugo, trying to increase the distance between you two. He noticed this and began to slowly creep toward you.

“Y/N.”

His firm tone coupled with his intense gaze had butterflies erupting in your stomach; of course now of all times.

“It doesn’t matter,” you uttered. “Could you please just get us out of here?”

“Is it what I said about you working with another hero?” he asked, completely ignoring your request but hitting the nail right on the head.

You didn’t answer him, instead crossing your arms and staring at the floor. Your body language was more than enough to confirm that he was correct, though, and he took one more step to close the gap between you. His close proximity had your head reeling as his scent enveloped you; it was almost comforting. You were so caught up in it that you hadn’t even noticed his hand cautiously reaching toward your face until he was already gripping your chin, tilting your head to look at him.

“Answer me.”

You let out a shaky breath as your eyes met his. Bakugo had never touched or looked at you like this before. Yes, he was frowning as usual; but it was out of concern instead of anger. The expression softened once you nodded, answering what he already knew. Still, his fingers never left your face.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he grumbled. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Do I?” you retorted, cursing yourself as your voice broke. “You think I don’t already know how expendable I am? How easy it’d be for you to replace me? You don’t have to throw it in my face.”

“I wasn’t trying to-”

“I’m sorry for always nagging. I’m sorry for caring. But if you don’t, someone has to, Bakugo,” you vented. “If we’re even close enough for me to call you that. Sometimes I feel like I should just address you as Ground Zero like everyone el-”

Bakugo’s grip on your chin tightened before he pressed his lips to yours, his other hand moving to the wall to support his weight as he leaned into you. You were far too stunned to kiss him back, but that was to be expected. The man in question had never even shook your hand before, let alone kissed you. He broke the kiss shortly thereafter, pressing his forehead against yours as his breath fanned over your lips.

“Don’t. Don’t ever stop calling me by my name,” he articulated, pulling away a little to gaze into your eyes and make sure you understood how serious he was. “You hear me? I’ll always be Bakugo to you. I don’t give a fuck what everyone else calls me. You’re not everyone else. I...just wanna hear you say my name.”

Your eyes began to tear up again, but this time out of relief. This was all you ever wanted from him: to act like he cared. To show you that he cared, and that you were more than just a sidekick to him.

You bit your quivering lip, nodding as you looked up at him. You meant to keep eye contact, but your gaze dropped to his lips. You desperately wanted him to kiss you again, and you weren’t doing the best job at hiding it.

Bakugo chuckled and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. He wanted to do much more, but not before making sure that he’d made things right with you. “I’m...sorry, okay?”

As simple as it was, his apology meant the world to you; especially since he wasn’t exactly known to be someone who ever apologized. It was actually quite humorous.

“You’re sorry?” you quizzed, stifling a laugh.

“Shut up, dumbass,” he retorted playfully before pressing his lips to yours again.

If someone told you just a few minutes before now that you’d be kissing Kastuki Bakugo, you’d have thought they were severely deluded. But you couldn’t deny how right it felt.

He caressed your cheek and lowered his other hand to your waist, clutching it softly. He was so delicate with you, touching you as though you’d break if he didn’t restrain himself. It was such a strange contrast to how he usually was, but you didn’t mind one bit.

“Bakugo,” you whimpered into his lips as you clutched his shirt, prompting him to slip his tongue into your mouth as a response.

He groaned lowly into the kiss as your tongues danced. You slipped your fingers underneath the material of his tank top, raking them along his soft abs and relishing in the warmth of his skin. He decided to match your pace, dropping his hands to your ass and squeezing it with much less caution than he’d touched you before.

His lips left yours, pecking them once more before attaching them to your neck. Your small moans were music to his ears as his tongue laved at your throat.

“I want you-” he groaned into your skin. “-need you.”

He hooked his fingers into the loops of your jeans, pulling your hips into his. And after feeling what pressed up against your thigh, it became very evident just how much he needed you.

“I’m yours, Bakugo. Please.” You sighed as he rolled his hips against you: so tantalizingly slow.

He kissed his way back up your neck, across your jaw and to your lips, kissing you once before gripping the hem of your top. He dragged the material up, your arms automatically raising to aid him in removing the garment. He was grateful that you’d forgone wearing your costume that day, knowing it’d be a pain in the ass to remove; though he’d worn his, save for the mask, gloves and grenades.

His rough hands slid up your torso and cupped your breasts through the material of your bra briefly before reaching around to unclasp it. He threw it to the ground before reaching for you again, calloused fingers tweaking your hardening nipples.

You grew exponentially wetter when he enclosed his lips around one, his fingers tugging at the other, and then alternating. He did this back and forth until you were a whining mess.

“Katsuki,” you mewled, subconsciously grinding your hips into his. “Please touch me.”

“Aren’t I?” he murmured into your chest, and you could feel his smirk. Though, he didn’t torture you for long, dropping his hand to the waist of your jeans and undoing them. He lowered himself onto his knees as he dragged them down your legs before throwing them atop the pile of discarded clothes. Your panties were torn off before joining the pile.

You squirmed as Bakugo’s eyes raked your naked body; his mind memorizing every inch in case this was the last time you’d ever let him see you like this (though he was confident it wouldn’t be). He traced his fingers up the length of your leg before gripping your thigh and lifting it to hook your leg over his shoulder.

“So pretty,” he breathed as he looked up at you, eyes lowering to meet your dripping core. “Even down here.”

Your mouth fell open as he flattened his tongue against your core, groaning as he tasted you. You whimpered as he licked you slowly, stopping to kiss your folds every so often before increasing his pace, devouring you like his life depended on it. You entangled your fingers in his hair, alternating between pulling at his roots and rubbing circles into his scalp.

He’d grunt every time you tugged particularly hard, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel heavenly against your clit.

“Bakugo~” you moaned out once he sucked harshly, sensing that you were already almost there. “Ngh- feels so good. So close...”

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my mouth, princess?” He pushed his tongue into your cunt, burying his face between your thighs as he pressed his thumb against your clit and rubbed circles into the swollen bud.

“Oh my god, yes,” you squeaked, fingernails scratching at his scalp as you neared you’re release. “Coming!”

Bakugo growled into your pussy as you came, the vibrations from his mouth intensifying the sensation tenfold. He watched in awe and adoration while you writhed above him, licking you clean. Once you came down, he rose to his feet, kissing you to allow you to taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

He pulled away to hastily undo his harnesses, pulling off his shirt in the process. You eyed him hungrily as he stripped. Your mouth practically watered at the sight in front of you. You waited until he reached for the button of his pants, catching his wrist in yours to stop him before sinking to your knees. He panted as you groped him over the fabric, rolling his erection into your palm.

“Off,” he groaned, his hand coming down to rest atop your head. “Take them off.”

You obliged, popping open the button and dragging his pants down to around his thighs. You looked up at him as you pressed your tongue against his shaft over his boxers, causing him tug at your roots.

“D-don’t tease me, dumbass.”

You bit your lip as you hooked your fingers into the band, pulling his underwear down slowly. Your heart rate quickened as you revealed his length, inch by inch as you pulled them down his thighs. He was big; so girthy, and the precum that leaked out of the tip only made him look that much more appetizing.

He hissed as you took him in your hand, pumping his length slowly before licking the head of his cock. You lapped up his arousal before taking him in your mouth and sucking as your tongue swirled around the tip. You quickly grew eager for more, taking him fully into your mouth until you were sputtering around him.

“Shit,” he swore, petting your head. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

Bakugo’s words encouraged you and you began to bob your head up and down his cock, humming around it. He gathered your hair into his fist, pulling it as you deepthroated him.

“Ngh, so good. So fucking good,” he moaned, thrusting into your mouth.

As good as it felt, if there was one place Bakugo wanted to cum more than your mouth: it was inside you. Therefore, as he felt himself nearing his release, he reluctantly pulled out of your mouth, groaning at the sight of the saliva that connected your lips to his cock.

“I need to fuck you now,” he informed you as he pulled you up by your shoulders. “Turn around. Hands on the wall.”

You did as he said, turning to press your hands and face against the wall of the elevator. You chewed your lip in anticipation as you heard him stroke his wet cock behind you before pressing the tip against your folds.

“Katsuki,” you moaned, pushing back against him in a desperate attempt to feel him inside of you. “Please.”

“Please what, princess? What do you want?”

Whimpering as he ground the head of his cock into your clit, you responded. “I want you to- ahh~, fuck me. Please Bakugo.”

You must’ve appeased him, both of his hands coming up to grip your ass and he slowly pushed into you. His name fell from your lips in a long, drawn out moan as he filled you. He stilled once he was entirely in, relishing in the feeling of your warm cunt contracting around him. He could probably cum from that alone.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he commented, pulling out halfway before pushing into you again. He did this over and over until you’d stretched enough to his liking, beginning a steady rhythm as he thrust into you. The elevator filled with the sound of his skin slapping against yours, drowning out your moans. His fingers dug into your hips as he increased his pace, slamming into you as he fucked you.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck yeah,” he moaned out, and you had to grab hold of the elevator railing to steady yourself as he pounded you. “Look at you taking my cock so fucking well. You’re such a good girl.”

Your heart fluttered at his praise, crying out his name as he angled his cock to brush against your g-spot with every thrust. He thrust into you like that just a few times before pulling out of you.

You were about to protest but he spun you around to face him, guiding your arms around his neck and picking you up by the backs of your thighs. He pushed your back against the wall to support you in the new position.

“Wanna see your pretty face when you cum,” he mumbled through clenched teeth, slipping back inside you.

“B-Bakugo,” you whined, finding it difficult to speak with how he was slamming into you. “So close.”

He reached a hand down between you two, rubbing furiously at your clit. “Cum for me, princess. Cum around my cock. Fuck.”

You threw your head back in sheer pleasure as your stomach tightened, digging your nails into his back as you reached your climax. You clenched around him, your pussy getting impossibly tighter as you came around his cock.

Bakugo’s thrusts grew sloppier but quicker, exerting the last of his energy as he finished inside you. Thick ropes of his warm cum painted your insides, filling you up along with his cock. He groaned out your name as he let out the last of it, burying his head in your shoulder as he caught his breath.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments before he pulled out of you and let you down slowly. His cum leaked uncomfortably down your thigh, and suddenly he regretted ruining your panties, wishing he had them to help keep his cum inside of you.

You were caught by surprise when Bakugo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he embraced you.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized to you once again. “I need you, and...I don’t wanna do this hero shit if I can’t do it with you.”

 “Me neither,” you assured him, softly kissing his shoulder.

*

“Bakugo?”

“Yeah?”

“How are we getting out of here?” you inquired, remembering that you and him had been the only people in the office on that Sunday night.

“Shit.”

~

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha bakugou #bakugou #bakugo #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha fluff #mha angst #bnha fluff #bnha angst #fluff #angst #smut #pro hero ground zero #pro hero bakugou #pro hero bakugo

[927roses-and-stuff]

Miracles in Gotham: Chapter 3: Unwelcome Discoveries (Part 1)

Hey, guys! This fic is inspired by @ozmav mav’s Maribat AU. Shoutout to @mystery-5-5  for brainstorming ideas with me for this fic. 

Midterms have got me acting up. Despite the quarantine, I literally wasn’t motivated to write until the moment I could use writing to procrastinate. Absolutely brilliant logic. Truly. Thank you guys so much for the wait and I hope you enjoy this chapter.  

If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham or ask to be added to the tag list.

P.S. For the sake of continuity, I’m going to ignore the Heroes United thing because that episode was basically a fanfic of the fanfic and as much as I loved the animation and the new characters...I’ve seen better plots and explanations for a lot of the similar problems in the Maribat fandom. Also Sparrow is probably a reference to Batman, anyways. Also, canon has just gone out the window...I guess...whoops. 

P.P.S. Swearing tw, death tw. 

Please remember this is rated M for a reason. Also, it is my headcanon that not everyone who dies during the akuma attacks come back. Of course, it’s not mentioned in a children’s show, but I’ve always seen the Miraculous Cure as a cure for physical, non-living objects as they’re easier to fix, and lives take a lot more effort and energy from the user to revive. And since Marinette is a child, there’s not going to be a lot of energy to spare.

Tag list: @northernbluetongue @spicybelladonna @my-name-is-michell @legendaryneckjudgestudent @lokiifriggasonn @zerotosiki

First Previous Next Fanfic

To the members of the Justice League…

I am writing to you as Chat Noir, superhero of Paris and holder of the Black Cat Miraculous of Destruction, and partner to Ladybug, the official Guardian and the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous of Creation. I come to you with a plea similar to ones that we have sent you a year ago. The magical terrorist, Hawkmoth, is still at large here in Paris, France. If you are not aware of who he is, Hawkmoth is a domestic terrorist in Paris who relies on the power of the Butterfly Miraculous to create a physical and amplified manifestation of a person’s negative emotions, using the victim as a host, using magical butterflies as his form of transmission. These are called akumas. The akuma allows Hakwmoth to essentially get inside the mind of  his victims and manipulate and amplify their emotions.  We have been fortunate enough to have a failsafe in Ladybug, who can repair any physical damages, and even bring back lives, from these attacks. However, both Ladybug and I have reached our wits’ ends with no lead to Hawkmoth’s true identity. The people of Paris are suffering both from emotional trauma and the physical trauma of being subjugated, manipulated, experiencing bouts of amnesia, and even resurrecting multiple times. Hawkmoth has even taken to exclusively targeting a middle-school class at College Francois-Dupont.

Ladybug and I are aware of the risks superhero presence may bring since we will not survive a fight if any more experienced superheroes such as yourselves are akumatized. However, I feel that we have no other choice. Our Master has recently been put out of commission and the rest of our comrades have had their identities compromised. Ladybug is now the Guardian of the rest of the Miraculous. And although she will not approve of my plea, even your  advice or insight will be of use to us.

Please consider our plight and contact us as soon as you can.

Chat Noir 

Bruce Wayne was not a perfect man, he will admit. However, he did pride himself on his sense of logic and adaptability to most situations, as long as they stayed within the mortal realms of believability that is. Magic, however, or anything pertaining to the supernatural was out of his forte; in fact, he often liked to pretend it did not exist despite having acquaintances and enemies whose entire lives revolved around it. There was a reason he did not tolerate the  prolonged presence of meta-humans in Gotham, after all. 

He re-read through the email once, twice, again and again, desperately wishing that it had not been his shift to look through the messages that the Justice League received on a daily basis. Why couldn’t it have been Superman or Wonder Woman? Or better yet, Dr. Fate or Zatanna, never mind the fact that the latter was technically retired. Any of them would’ve made sense of this gibberish that was laid out in front of him. 

Initially, he thought it had been a coded message. It made perfect sense, in his opinion. The only concrete fact he could dissect out of this nonsense was the presence of a domestic terrorist and how they were targeting some middle school students for whatever reason. His mind recalled  the recent conversation he had with André Bourgeois yesterday. Even he had mentioned a domestic terrorist going after his daughter’s class, which was why he reached out to Bruce, since Bruce would be the most fitted to protect them with his resources, despite Gotham being the crime capital of the world. He nodded to himself; the facts were consistent then. There was a terrorist and middle school students were the targets. 

On one of the other screen monitors, he had pulled up records of College Francois Dupont School for a background check using a VPN to connect to French service networks. Both the email from this Chat Noir (Selina would get a kick out of that) and André failed to mention the terrorist’s intentions with these kids. However, looking through the different classes, there had been a special note besides Mme. Bustier’s class that stated:

“High vulnerability to akumas.”

This was where Bruce was once again stumped. Of course, he really couldn’t deny the existence of magic, but accepting that meant accepting that the terrorist used magical butterflies as his form of attack. Bruce wasn’t a qualified psychologist or any sort of specialist, but surely magical butterflies could not give you emotional trauma, mind-control, or even as Chat Noir had implied, a means to murder. 

Bruce scanned through Mme. Bustier’s class to look for anything that might be different from other classes. If he recalled correctly, this was the same class that André’s kid was in. He took note of the name, Chloé Bourgeois, and other notable names such as Adrien Agreste (who’s father was a fashion mogul and a model in his own right), Lila Rossi (a diplomat’s daughter), Max Kanté (a genius, and he noted to himself to see if that held true when the class was under his supervision), Marinette Dupain-Cheng (the class president and the designer of a recent rock album according to Jason who had obsessed over the cover for a few weeks before Alfred confiscated it), and Alya Césaire (an aspiring journalist who ran a blog called the Ladyblog). 

Okay, he rationalized. While not all of these kids were significant, some, like the Mayor’s own daughter, would be prime targets for a terrorist, so that made some sort of sense in Bruce’s mind. 

He sighed again, wishing that he had a cup of coffee or an energy drink with him at the moment. Unfortunately, Tim’s recent addiction meant no one could have it. Bruce scoffed underneath his breath. Alfred had really weird rules when it came to show “family support.” Tim was a grown man who should suffer his own consequences. Alas, no one argues with Alfred lest they risked his wrath. 

Bruce hovered over the link under Mlle. Césaire’s file, the Ladyblog. Perhaps it would give him some answers. 

As a bright ladybug designed website popped up, Bruce realized he might have been so wrong. 

He scrolled through the website thoroughly from the latest posts to the earliest. He noticed a concerning trend where the later blog posts centered more around one of Césaire’s classmates, Lila Rossi, and shaky videos of a red and black spotted figurem and a black cat figure fleeing the scene, or fighting some sort of abomination that Bruce did not even attempt to understand. In one video it was the two heroes against a flock of pigeons, or a gigantic baby, or whatever else. Bruce had half a mind to dismiss the entire blog as based on falsities, however one of the videos caught his eye. 

It was a video titled: “Syren: Paris Going Underwater!!” 

That was concerning, considering a flooded Paris would’ve featured on international news, not just on an amateur blog by a middle schooler. Fortunately for him, the video quality was clearer, allowing him to watch as the camera recorded the scene of that day. 

Bruce jolted awake and snapped to attention when he realized it was being filmed on a rooftop, and that the water levels were still rising as the video progressed. From what the camera captured, there were only a handful of people on each rooftop; not even making up a fifth of the Parisian population in total. 

What the fuck?

Then, as the video concluded, gigantic swarms of red and white bugs (ladybugs?) filled the camera’s frame and when it disappeared, everything was back to what he presumed was normal. The video then faded to black, posting statistics that chilled Bruce to the fucking bone. 

“Death count: 1.528 million Parisians

Resurrection count: 1.51 million Parisians

Injured count: 10 000 Parisians

Permanent death count: 18 000 Parisians

In honour of the Parisians who were not revived and were injured during the attack, the Ladyblog, offers our condolences, and will help in any way we can online and offline.  The akuma victim, as always, will remain anonymous for safety purposes.  Links to help organizations and donation funds to the peoples and families affected will be posted below. Additional links will be posted for available online mental health services.”

And, if Chat Noir was to be believed, some people had died multiple times. 

After making sure the video was not doctored in any way (though that would be cruel to assume about a kid’s blog), Bruce sent Chat Noir’s email (along with the earlier videos from both heroes and an email from Marinette Dupain-Cheng that he had found) and all of the links he had amassed to his own computer in the Bat Cave before closing all the tabs on the monitors. Swerving around, he stormed to the Batmobile, eyebrows furrowed in solemnity. 

Magic or not, whatever terrorist was plaguing Paris had a pretty damn high casualty count, and the only people that were stopping him were this Ladybug and Chat Noir people, who did not seem to be properly equipped (the Ladybug heroine was using a yoyo, for fuck’s sake) to deal with someone of this power. Not to mention, Bruce winced, their mentor  was “out of commission” whatever that meant, with their peers being compromised, so they probably had no outside help.

And it seems, Bruce’s features darkened into a scowl, his dear friend André Bourgeois had a lot of explaining to do. Police department has it handled, his ass. 

In the meantime, he was going to make damn sure the class under his care would have a relaxing reprieve even if he had to lock up every villain in Arkham Asylum himself. 

________________________________________________________________

Dear Diary, 

The talk with Chat was a bust. I know he thinks I don’t trust him, but I wish he knew how much I’m trying to, but it’s not as simple as he makes it out to be...right?  And of course I trust him with my life, but as the Guardian, I can’t just make impulsive decisions like going to other superheroes, especially when there’s no guarantee they would help us, or can even be trusted in the first place! And I can’t just reveal our identities to each other either. It would put Chat and the rest of the Miraculous at risk. And I really don’t want a repeat of Chat Blanc…

That future will never happen on my watch. I forbid it. 

Speaking of other superheroes, I think there might be someone though, who could help us, even a little bit. 

Marianne. 

She wasn’t a Guardian, but she was a Ladybug user for a while and was really close to Master Fu. She must know something. She’s in London so she might not be available but...

I’ll check up on her today after class! If she has any helpful advice, I’ll be sure to share it with Chat too. 

Gotta go!

Bisoux, 

Marinette

Scrambling to get ready, Marinette fumbled with her pigtails and shoulder bag simultaneously, trying to make sure that her pigtails were just right. Tikki zoomed around, helping her get ready by shoving stray pens and pencils into her pockets. When they were done, Marinette rushed downstairs, swiping one of the freshly-made quiche along the way. Just before she exited the store, she turned back to give her Maman and Papa a smooch. Hastily, she then left the bakery, the bakery’s bell ringing behind her as she sprinted to school. 

It was a mystery for most people, but despite living less than five minutes away from the school, Marinette was always late. Marinette liked to blame her Ladybug duties when Tikki asked, but she knew better. She had the habit of being late since before she knew the Miraculous existed. 

To be fair though, Marinette usually slept in because she was exhausted from schoolwork, designing,

and Ladybug duties. Was it her fault that Hawkmoth liked making 3 AM akumas? Was it her fault that coffee- for all the espresso and sugar she dumped into it, and despite all those hipster blogs saying otherwise- did nothing to help her stay awake? Of course not. If anything she was a victim here; a victim of late night akumas and faulty biology. 

Fortunately for her (and her quiche), she was actually earlier today than usual. She could see students milling around the courtyard behind the school. Some sat with their friend groups while others huddled to catch up on the homework from the night before. 

Unfortunately, one of those groups was Lila and her friends. Lila sat on one of the picnic tables, talking about whatever grand adventure she supposedly went on or whichever famous celebrity she supposedly saved from a rare type of cancer or something while her friends sat around her, captivated with every word. Marinette rolled her eyes. It was too early for this. 

She steered away from them towards the other side of the yard, where she could see Alya and Nino cuddling while finishing their homework. She glanced back at Lila, who waved at the couple before going back to whatever story she was regaling to her loving audience. It was probably because Alya and Nino hadn’t seen Lila greet them in the first place, but Marinette couldn’t help feeling a bit happy that they didn’t return her greeting. 

“Morning, guys!” She greeted as she approached their table, sitting on the other side. 

Alya looked up first. “Hey! You woke up early today,” she teased, giving her shoulder a friendly nudge.

“Heh, guess it’s my lucky day today,” she said. As she sat down, she began eating the quiche she had swiped earlier. “Well, almost, anyway.”

Alya rolled her eyes and smirked. “You live in front of the school. It’s your own damn fault at this point.” 

Nino, who had been pouring over a worksheet that was due today, finally looked up. Upon seeing Marinette, he smiled. “Hey, dude. You’re actually early!” 

At Marinette’s exasperated groan, both Alya and Nino fell into giggles, Marinette shortly following along. 

“Keep that up, and I’m not gonna let you guys eat at my place for lunch,” she teased, wagging a finger at them. 

Alya wagged her own finger, engaging in a finger sword fight. “As if your mom would ever let us starve!” 

Marinette laughed, as she wrapped her finger around Alya’s and lightly slammed it onto the table, declaring her victory. 

“Okay, okay, you got me.” Marinette went back to eating her quiche, devouring it before it got too cold. For once, she was in a pretty good mood. 

“Hey, Alya, Nino,”

And of course, she just had  to jinx it. 

Marinette didn’t even try to join in the conversation to acknowledge Lila’s presence. If Lila wanted to talk to her, she needed to stop lying about everything; and with her supposed “lying disease,” that wasn’t happening anytime soon. She only wished Adrien was here so someone could sympathize with her. 

“Oh, hey Lila,” Alya greeted, having gained her hand back and waved. “Ignore Nino here. He forgot about Mendeleiv’s worksheet due today.” 

“Oh, I see.” Lila said. “Well, you know, Nino. If you ever need help with science, one of my cousins actually won a Noble Peace Prize for his contributions in molecular chemistry.” 

Nino, to his credit, only muttered an “uh huh” before turning the worksheet over and frantically scribbling all over it. Marinette briefly wondered if Nino understood what he was writing down- or if he cared. 

Alya perked up. “Wow, that’s amazing Lila! What did your cousin do?”

Lila smiled bashfully, and looked away, waving her hand. “Oh, you know, it was the discovery of some man-made element.” Marinette had to give Lila credit- she knew how to fake her blushes really well. “I’m nowhere near as smart as my cousin, you know? All the scientific words get me so confused!” 

Marinette buried her head in her arms. Did she need to be here for this? She could just slip away? Glancing at Lila, who caught her eyes, she decided against it. Like hell she was letting Lila take away her time with her  friends. 

Alya laughed good-naturedly. “Oh, I understand completely. English is so much more of my forté, you know?” 

“Yeah I totally get what you mean.” Lila stopped laughing as her gaze landed on Marinette. Only she seemed to notice the glare she gave her.  “Oh, hi, Marinette. Glad to see you’re early today.” 

“Yeah,” she deadpanned. “Hi.” With a fake smile, she robotically waved at her. 

“Well, anyways I got to go. See you later Alya.”  Lila said, waving her fingers before finally walking away. Marinette exhaled. Thank kwami. She may have been less obnoxious today but that was probably because of Alya’s presence. 

Speaking of, the said girl turned towards her. “You could be nicer towards her.” 

“She almost got me expelled.” Marinette had had this conversation with Alya many times before. At this point, her responses came like clockwork. She contemplated telling Alya’s threat back in Lila’s first day, but she really wasn’t ready for the backlash if Alya accused her  of lying. 

“Well,” Alya stuttered. “It was because she has an illness that makes her lie uncontrollably.” 

Marinette was pretty sure there was no such illness but at this point, Lila had somehow convinced everyone it was an actual illness. That, or no one wanted to point out the obvious lie, including administration. Which would be pretty negligent of the school admin so she hoped not. 

“Alya, if it was just an illness that makes her tell lies, pray tell, who put the test answers in my bag and the necklace in my locker?” she asked. 

“Maybe, well,” Alya tried coming up with an answer but failed, thereby changing the subjects. “Look, both of you are my friends, and I don’t want to get in between the two of you.” 

Marinette sighed. “Yeah, yeah.” She picked up the discarded quiche container and her bag. “I gotta go to class and see if Mme. Bustier needs help.” 

Alya frowned. “Marinette, wait.” 

“It’s okay, really.” Marinette assured her, before walking away. When she was climbing up the steps to the entrance, she sighed heavily. She didn’t really understand Alya’s logic sometimes. If she knew about Lila’s supposed lying disease, why did she put Lila’s trash on the Ladyblog? If Alya knew Lila’s lies had led to Marinette’s initial expulsion, why still defend her? Marinette shook the thoughts away, not wanting to get into that impeding headache. Lila Rossi was never worth her time. 

When she reached the entrance, Lila was leaning against the doors, her arms crossed. Her olive green eyes were glaring right at her. 

“Dupain-Cheng.” 

“Rossi.” 

Lila strutted up to her, getting uncomfortably close to her face. “I told you what would happen if you didn’t play along.” 

Marinette stared back, unimpressed. She really had more pressing issues than this weird power play Lila wanted to play. Leaning back and stepping to the side, she said, “I already told you I’m not scared of you, Lila.” 

Marinette didn’t spare her another glance. In some ways, she pitied Lila. What kind of life did you have that you were so desperate for attention you lied about everything, and tried to get rid of anyone else who called you out? 

She really hoped Alya would soon see sense. Adrien had once told her to take the high road, and honestly? Sometimes, it felt good to not let Lila’s lies get under her skin. 

Then again, when did Lila ever go down so simply? 

#miraclesingotham #maribat #its so long itll be two parts #rip #tw:death #tw: swearing #it was rated m for a reason guys #daminette #not there yet tho #mlb season 3 spoilers #maribat fanfic #mlb x dc #ml x dc

[giingers]

About Time (part two)

Request: Angsty protective Tommy imagine!!              

Note: I hope you like part two everyone! I guess this is where the protective angst comes in. This is a loooong one so strap in! 

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Warnings: violence, blood, lots of cursing

If anyone wants to be added to the tag list let me know! 

Tag list: @crazyonesarethebest

@peachyblinderss

Part One                                         

The Garrison was louder tonight than it usually was, the pub packed with obnoxious and foul mouthed civilians that all seemed to have one great and equal purpose. To irritate Tommy Shelby. Well, according to his now very irritated mind that was. 

His knuckles were bone white as he thrummed one hand on the table in the private room, the other hand bringing his fifth cigarette to his mouth. He took a long and grateful drag, letting that ashy taste consume his lungs before he blew out the white puff of pollution, letting it swirl above his head like a physical embodiment of his thoughts. Since he’d stepped foot in the pub at exactly eight o’clock he had not been able to settle himself comfortably. 

His roaming eyes that were ever watchful, kept peering at the door each time it was opened. But each time so far he had not laid eyes on the person he wanted to see the most. It was now nearing a quarter past nine, according to the pocket watch that hung from Arthur’s breast, and still you had not made an appearance. All sorts of reasons for your absence from the Garrison were running through Tommy’s head. 

What if somehow the man you’d been out with had brought you back to his place? What if you were now lying in his arms, being touched and caressed the way Tommy had always dreamed of loving you? What if, in some mad whimsical moment of female hysteria you had run away with this man? Jesus Christ, Tommy thought, he was turning into a quivering mess. 

“Will you stop that Tommy, eh? You’re doing me skull in” Arthur’s brash voice wavered to where Tommy was slumped against the leather seat and his eyes of violent blue met his brothers. 

“Yeah, you’ve been fucking tapping on that table for ages now. What’s gotten into you?” John asked with a smirk from where he sat beside Arthur, both brothers secretly gloating at their brother’s anguished state.

Back at the house, Pol had declared that Tommy must have realised he was in love after the revelation that y/n was heading out with another man. John had watched Tommy for an hour now, and had watched him slip in and out of awareness for any sort of conversation, instead choosing to madly glance at the door or tap his knuckles off the table. It was comical to watch since usually Tommy was the sort of bloke that was always frigid and seemingly uncaring, but now it seemed as if he was losing his sanity. 

If John were being honest with himself though, the thought of Tommy being in love with you was not a far fetched one. He had often seen how the two of you looked at each other or how soft his brother became around you, displaying a gentle way with his words he didn’t have with anyone else. 

“Nothing’s gotten into me. I’m fine” Tommy answered, running a hand over his face. 

“Nothing got to do with a certain young lady?” Arthur grinned widely, his eyebrows raising almost comically.

Tommy Shelby actually had the audacity to blush.

“Fuck off. Don’t be ridiculous” Tommy scoffed, realising his cigarette was gone. His hand shook a little when he brought a new one to his mouth and he watched confusedly as John nudged Arthur, his eyes mischievously tracing a figure in the near distance. 

“Really? Well we’ll see about that because she just walked in” 

Tommy stiffened where he sat, all nervousness floating from his body and being replaced by a hardy sort of awareness. This had been what he was waiting for all evening, and now the spying was about to begin. 

“Don’t fucking look, John! John, act natural for fuck sake” Tommy pointed his cigarette at him, a warning flashing across his stone cold features “we’re here for a drink. Nothing more, alright?” 

“Act natural, he says?” Arthur scoffed over the rim of his whiskey glass “as if we’re not here peeping on some poor innocent lass” 

Him and John erupted into a fit of snickers which made Tommy realise just how ridiculous this whole situation was. He was actually being quite pathetic if he was honest with himself, but he knew he wouldn’t have been able to rest knowing you were out with another man. At least this way he could keep an eye on things. Make sure you were safe. Yeah that was the reason, he told himself, your safety and not his own jealousy. 

He ignored the two buffoons who were now becoming inebriated from the amber liquid that sat in the half empty bottle, and peered out of the little window in the private room. 

His stomach dropped when he saw you, now sitting in the furthest booth from where he himself sat, and as he raked his eyes over your face he felt his heart constrict. You were heavenly in pin curls that cascaded down your face and in Ada’s skirt of red velvet and a chiffon blouse, a string of ivory pearls around your neck. Your lips were shiny and your cheeks a rose pink that gave you a dewy look, and your eyes that were framed in lines of smoky black were gazing at the man in front of you. You wouldn’t look out of place on a movie poster, Tommy thought. 

You were however, oblivious to the fact that Tommy was watching you with a fondness he always reserved for you alone, but then again he was certain you’d been oblivious to it your whole life. Ever since he’d realised that girls were pretty and kissable, he had made up his mind that he wanted you. He’d been young then but his infatuation had only grown from there, and now he had become entirely devoted to you even if you didn’t know it. 

He’d easily die for you if he had to, yet here you sat before him with another man. 

He’d annoyed you earlier with his overbearing interrogation, and a rather large part of him wanted to go and apologise to you. But he stayed rooted to where he was and watched you for another while. But when you beamed at your date widely he decided he’d seen enough and closed the window shut. If you were happy, he thought, then he’d have to let you be happy. No matter how much it hurt. 

_____________

The night air was welcome as you walked down the cobbled streets, getting further from the stench of ale that had permeated from The Garrison and closer to the promise of home. William had offered to walk you back and you had accepted after a little reluctance. But he’d been perfectly courteous all evening so you didn’t seem to really believe that him escorting you to your door would be a problem. 

The evening had went well and conversation had flowed, but there had been no spark at all and more times than one you’d wanted to be looking into another pair of eyes. Tommy had never been far from your mind at all during the evening, and his words from earlier had replayed and replayed in your head. 

Did he really only think of you as a little sister? Was friends all you’d ever be? Yes, the cynic that lived in your mind firmly told you. You never know unless you try, the optimist spurred you on. 

Your focus now went to your stumbling date who had been a little on the drunk side when you’d left The Garrison. A brick wall became his new companion as he leaned on it with both hands, heavy breaths leaving his lips as he tried to regain himself. You made your way over to him, one hand resting on his back as you peered at his face. 

“Are you alright, Will?” you asked him as your eyes peered into his rather glassy ones. He just looked at you without saying a word, and for a moment you thought he was about to throw up when he leaned forward, but before you knew it his lips were on yours. 

His skin was clammy and his breath smelled of ale and cigars, and the hands that came to push you against the wall were rough and hard. You wriggled away from him, the kiss not at all pleasant and tried to brush it off with a nervous smile. 

“I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink, William” you said breathlessly, your hands against the brick behind you to steady yourself. You tried to slither your way out of his grip but he only grabbed your arms tighter, yet again slamming his lips against yours. 

You tried to kick out at him but his hands were like vices and no matter how hard you struggled you just couldn’t break free. Your heart began to pound loudly in your chest when a rough hand grabbed the hem of your skirt, yanking it up as far as he could get it and grabbing at a thigh. You bit into his lip then as hard as you could and the taste of blood in your mouth almost made your head spin. You began to scream then as loud as you could, hoping someone would come to your aid. He withdrew from you then but his hand continued its assault under your skirt while the other came and slapped itself over your mouth. You tried to push him away but he was too heavy to budge. 

“You fucking little bitch!” he slurred, the smell of his hot breath fanning over your face and you squealed when his fingers came between your legs roughly. You could feel the hot tears pouring out of your eyes then and you tried to scream again even though his hand was clamped firmly over your mouth. 

The pearls around your neck were scattered along the cobbles like the last remnants of hope that you had as William began to recklessly tear at your clothes. Buttons flew off your chiffon blouse and you cried harder at the thought of being so openly exposed to him in your brassiere. You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or whether he was so violently possessed all the time. He had been a friend of Freddie Thorne, and only came through Birmingham once every while for work. You guessed his fleeting visits of different cities often resulted in this behaviour. 

“Please, someone help me!” you screamed when his hand left your mouth to come to his belt “Tommy! Tommy!” 

“Scream for your fucking tinker” he spat “I’m going to take you here and now, and no fucking Shelby scum is gonna get in the way” 

It was almost like the world’s supply of irony had manifested so viciously in that moment because all of a sudden William’s weight was removed from you and when your eyes narrowed in the dim lighting of the night you made out three shapes that were now making it their business to pulverise your attacker. 

“Tommy?” you blurted out in a voice that shook with panic, but he didn’t seem to hear you. He was like a predator in that moment, all lean and dangerous with eyes that burned with the most agonising fury. Arthur and John were now throwing punches that sounded deafeningly brutal as they collided with William’s body. How and when they had come upon your struggle was lost on you, but you had never been more grateful for anything in your life. 

Groans of pain filled the air and you watched on in horror as Tommy swiftly removed his hat, a glint of silver flittering through the air and then those groans turned to screams. Blood was gushing everywhere and it dripped onto the cobbled stones as William took a swing at Tommy that the Shelby expertly dodged. A crack reverberated off the ground as Tommy pushed your assailant to the wet pavement, and like a panther who was about to devour his prey, he jumped onto William and began to make work on his face. Punch after punch was delivered and despite the fact that this man had nearly tried to rape you, you felt an overwhelming sickness at the sounds of his bones crunching beneath Tommy’s knuckles. 

John was over to you in a flash, his arms wrapping around your body and trying his hardest to turn you the other way. You could feel Arthur’s eyes on your horrified face but he just stood and let Tommy carry out his violence. 

“Look away, y/n” John was saying in your ear “don’t look at it”

“Tommy stop” you said desperately as you struggled weakly in John’s arms “you’ll kill him!” 

For the first time since coming upon you being nearly taken by a man, he looked at you and your eyes were wide with horror as they met his. He stopped his pummelling with a closed fist raised in mid air, and he let those ravenous eyes of his settle on the face of the man who had been attacking you. He was bloody and cut and bruised, with eyes that were beginning to cloud over and Tommy sat atop him like an animal who attacks in the wild. His heart was hammering out of his chest and he could feel the adrenaline course through his blood stream. He wanted to finish this man off, to make him unrecognisable, to teach him a lesson that the only reward for messing with a Shelby is death. 

But you looked so weak and frail in John’s arms and your eyes were pleading with him to stop. So he did. He rose on shaking legs to stand up and walk towards you and when he was close to you he watched as you flung yourself at him, your hands balling the front of his tweed jacket. 

“Finish him off” Tommy said venomously, his eyes boring into John’s “make sure he understands what happens when someone touches my girl. I’ll take her home” 

You didn’t have time, nor were you in the right mental capacity to question the title of my girl that had just been bestowed on you. All of a sudden you felt Tommy’s large overcoat being placed around your shoulders to cover what little modesty you had left (your crème blouse torn open and hanging from your shoulders) and then you were being guided away from the scene. 

“Don’t look” Tommy said in a voice that was dangerously calm for a man that had just committed the most violent act you’d ever witnessed. 

“What will they do to him?” your own voice was shaking and your eyes darted to Tommy’s face, but no answer was given. The only response he gave you was wrapping an arm around your waist and hurrying you along. 

__________________

Back in your house Tommy worked on lighting a fire and boiling a copper kettle over the flames for tea while you headed upstairs to clean up and remove the clothes you now felt trapped in. The bath was scalding when you slipped into it, and by the time you were finished scrubbing your violated skin you were red and raw. You had stopped shaking at least, but every time you closed your eyes you pictured what could have happened if Tommy hadn’t of been there. 

You’d learned from him that the three brothers had been at The Garrison, a fact that had been unknown to you while you’d been there, and at around ten they’d decided to leave. They’d been halfway from home when they’d heard your screams. You knew the rest of the story, and you didn’t press for any more information on what the scene had looked like from Tommy’s point of view. You’d spent your time in the bath crying and worrying about what was going to happen to your saviours now that they all had William’s blood on their hands. 

When you eventually remerged downstairs you were puffy eyed and shivering despite the fact you were wrapped up in a dressing gown. Tommy was standing by the fire, his bruised and bloodied knuckles gripping a glass of whiskey. Another glass sat on the mantelpiece. 

He turned around when he heard your footsteps and you made your way towards him slowly. He watched you now with a carefulness he’d never displayed before, and when he took the glass of whiskey from the mantelpiece to give you he watched you as if in any moment you were going to break down. 

The whiskey was hot and ripe as you swallowed it in one gulp and for a moment it gave you that burning heat you felt you needed. But the warmth was gone in a second and you were back to feeling frozen. 

“You’re bleeding, Tommy” were the first words you spoke, and you set your glass back down to inspect his face. Your hands were cold, but Tommy sighed at the feeling of relief it brought to his bruised face. He’d pulverised William for sure, but the slimy prick had gotten a few swings in himself. A small cut from one of William’s rings now bled crimson over his brow bone, and he watched as your face crumpled with worry. 

“It’s alright. I’m alright” he told you, placing a hand over your smaller one and leaving it there in a gentle hold. Suddenly the air in the room got denser and it was hard to breathe, but you stayed rooted to the spot with your hand on Tommy’s face and your eyes becoming lost in his. His beautiful face contorted in a look of anguish then, his dark brows furrowing and for a moment he looked at you like this before you realised you had begun to cry. 

“You’re crying” he almost whispered, a softness coming over him that you never knew he was capable of. His hands came to hold your face then, rough and calloused skin caressing your soft and tear stained cheeks. 

“You’re hurt because of me” you blubbered helplessly, your eyes filling with tears “you’ll all probably go to prison because of me!” 

“Don’t you dare worry about us, we can take care of ourselves” Tommy hushed you, running his thumbs under your eyes to brush away the falling tears. 

“I didn’t want any of you to get in trouble for me. What will happen if the coppers come looking for you?” you were beginning to panic now at the vision you had of the three Shelby brothers being incarcerated for murder. Because of you. 

“Fuck the coppers. Fuck them all, you hear me?” he held your face and let those beautiful eyes of his bore into yours “I would murder every fucking man in Birmingham for you, do you understand? I’d dig their graves myself and throw each and every fucker who looked at you wrong into one. What I done tonight……I’d do it again and again and again if it meant you’d be safe” 

“But….” you couldn’t come up with any words in answer, but Tommy shushed you with a soft noise as he tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear. He looked at you for a second, and it seemed that his eyes got lighter in that moment and his body heaved with a heavy sigh as he looked at you.

It was in that instant that he was so overcome with declaration that he couldn’t stop the next words that left his mouth, and once spoken they hung within the room like electricity. 

“I love you” 

Frozen and speechless you stood there, your eyes still being locked on Tommy’s and his rough and warm hands remained on your face. You just stared at him dumbly, watching how the amber flames of the open fire flickered onto his ivory skin and how his plump lips parted slightly to let raggedy breaths escape. Time didn’t seem to exist in this universe. You could have been standing there gazing at each other for ten minutes or ten hours. It was hard to tell when no one was speaking or moving. 

You’d wanted him to say those words since you were twelve years old, and now that he’d said them your mind was working overtime trying to convince you it was a figment of your imagination. 

“No, you don’t” you shook your head, wriggling to turn away from him “you’re in shock or something” 

You could feel him stand behind you, you could hear his rapid breaths mixing with the noise of the crackling fire. But you were certain that the loudest noise in the room was your thumping heartbeat. 

“Yes, I do” he answered you softly, placing his two hands on your shoulders and turning you around to look at him yet again “I’ve loved you since I was a boy, and I love you still. That’s why I’d kill a man for touching you. It’s why I’d burn this whole fucking city to the ground. It’s why I’ve always been so protective of you, because I’ve always loved you” 

“Always?” you whispered to him, your trembling hands coming to rest on his chest. He captured your shaking ones in his warm and rough hands, and you sighed contently as he pressed a kiss to the back of them. 

“Always” Tommy answered with an honesty that alarmed you, but then a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like doubt lit up his eyes “do you love me too?” 

“Oh, Tommy” you almost cried “I love you so much. So much” 

Your answer was the only prompt he needed to place his lips on yours, and as soon as he did you felt that you were going to wake up from this dream at any second. But after minutes of blissfully kissing, with his hands in your hair and your arms around his neck, reality didn’t seem to want to interrupt. You could still feel his lips and tongue mingling with yours, and you knew that no matter how hard your cynical mind was trying to convince you none of this was real it really was happening. 

Nothing else mattered in that moment. Your ordeal with William was almost vanishing from your mind- the soft way Tommy’s fingers threaded through your hair replacing the memory. The worry of the Shelby boys being put behind bars for your sake disappeared with every brush of his lips on yours. He held you like that and kissed you and whispered I love you against your lips for what felt like an eternity. 

Nothing else mattered. Just Tommy. Nothing else. You loved him, and he loved you and everything else in the world was secondary to that. You remained in his arms for hours that night, being loved and held, all the while being completely oblivious to the fact that deep in the shadows of Birmingham, high on a hill, a fresh grave was being dug. 

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic

[lancetuckershairgel]

Summary: Chris and Lucy are reunited.

Words: 1,977

Warnings: Stealing, language, emotions, slight mention of former drug use

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Tag List: @book-dragon-13 @jobean12-blog @marvelgirl7 @southernbell91 @buckysforeverprincess @anxiousamandapanda @buckysteveloki-me @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety

AN: Cant do a read more. Also it was brought to my attention that several people didnt get notifications for Chaoter Four that was posted early last week so if you get the notification on this one let me know.

Chris climbed into his truck with a groan, his back stiff and head mildly aching. He rested his head back against the headrest of his seat and closed his eyes, no longer having to rush anywhere. The day had been long and he thanked God that it was Friday. Chris had taught three safety courses to the different fifth grade classes and had two meetings with disgruntled parents about a bullying situation and then he went straight to the college after work. School greeted him with an essay presentation, which he hated, and two exams that he really should have prepared better for. 

Chris rubbed his weary eyes and ran his hand over his beard before finally sitting straight and turning on the ignition. The red Ford came to life with a grumble and he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. Normally he would have gone straight home after class, especially with how tired he was, but not only was it a Friday night it was also a three day weekend and he was looking forward to an extended weekend and day off.  

"You can't take care of others if you others take care of yourself." Chris' psychology professor would say at the end of every lecture.

"You need a break Chris, you always put too much on yourself." Erin often told him during one of their phone conversations or occasional meet ups at the bar. 

"Yolo." 

Chris never quite understood that one but the teens at the middle school seemed to use it as a personal mantra. After driving for a few miles he took a right and pulled into a gas station lot and parked. Reed's Gas Mart had been around for a long time. One of the oldest businesses in town, owned by a simple old man, had been around since 1958. The place had quite the reputation built around it. From the late fifties to the early eighties it was a place all the kids came to for an after school milkshake and a handful of candy and to listen to Jerry tale his stories. Unfortunately times changed and things became less simple. Teenagers still frequented the store but not for the shakes.  Early in Chris' career as a police officer he'd made a few drug busts in the parking lot but well before that he himself had done a few things he wasn't proud of out back behind the dumpsters. Old man Jerry had caught Chris and a few buddies of his with a crack pipe once and chased them off with a broom, giving Chris a few good whacks across the back of the head all the while hollering about telling his mother. All had been forgiven though and Jerry was a good man, hard worker, and he wasn't going to let a few punk kids ruin his business. Chris gave a slight smile at the memories and entered the store, the ding of the bell overhead indicating that he had arrived. 

"Hey Jerry." Chris greeted the hunched over, white haired man 

"Hey Chris." 

Jerry's reply was short and he didn't look up at the off duty officer. His eyes were focused across the room, narrowed toward the candy aisle. 

"I got one. Just stuffed a chocolate bar in the back of 'er pants."

Chris rolled his eyes. Jerry used to love having kids come into his store, he'd even given Chris and his siblings free ice cream cones on the really hot summer cones when they were younger, but over time as Jerry aged and more and more people used his store as their personal sinning grounds the less excited the man became to see a youngster enter his store. He was always suspicious of anyone under the age of twenty five, convinced they were all up to no good. 

"I'll keep an eye out." Chris chuckled lightly as he walked over to a rack of snacks. 

Chris grabbed a bag of beef jerky and peered across the shelves at the suspected thief. To his dismay he indeed witnessed a crime. What was even more disheart was the fact that he recognized the beg being used to stuff merchandise inside. Blue, faded, torn. Rainbow pin and sharpie "artwork". Even with her hood pulled tight over her head, a classic move to avoid facial recognition on the security tapes, Chris knew that it was Lucy. He watched for a few seconds as she grabbed another item and quickly shoved it into her bag. 

"Come on kid, what are you doing?" Chris thought to himself

Lucy made her way to the back of the store, near the personal care items and Chris ducked down and watched through the large circular mirror on the wall as she stuffed another box into her backpack. He sighed and made his way to the counter. 

"You're right." Chris ssigh to Jerry with a sigh

"Goddamn kids." Jerry muttered under his breath

"Let me handle it, alright?" 

"Fine but I want her out of here and if I catch her anywhere near my store I'll give her the whooping she deserves, you hear me Christopher?" Jerry wagged his crooked finger in Chris' face

"You'll do no such thing old man." Chris rolled his eyes "Put that thing away and go back to  watching the game. I'll take care of this."

Lucy's head was down low as she quickly grabbed the items she had came for. Headphones were plugged into her ears and heavy metal played loudly to calm her nerves. her heart pounded in her chest as she rounded the corner to make her exit and she froze in her tracks. 

"Shit." She muttered when she saw Chris standing at the counter staring at her with disappointment, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"Hey Luce." Chris finally said after a prolonged stare down 

Chris could easily read body language thanks to his training in the academy. He knew how to spot suspicious behavior or signs of an abuse victim and he learned to read people by how their left eye twitched or how they shifted from foot to foot. Lucy may have looked defiant, shoulders back and head high, eyes glaring death rays in a dare to interfere with her mission but Chris could see behind that. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bookbag until her knuckles were white. Her bottom lip quivered slightly. Her pupils were wide and pleading. Lucy was scared. 

"Whatcha got there?" Chris took a step forward and relaxed his arms as he gestured toward her bag

"None of your business." Lucy snarled as she stared down Chris

"Come on, hand it over." Chris sighed. He Judy wanted to go home, get a nice buzz off a few beers, watch Game of Thrones, and go to bed. 

Lucy mentally walked herself through her options. Would she be able to get out the back door before Chris caught her? What if he called backup and her name ended up on a wanted list and cops showed up at the school? 

"I'm fucked." Lucy said to herself and decided to comply. Maybe Chris would go easy on her. 

Slowly she handed over the incriminating bag and Chris took it. He eyed Lucy disapprovingly  as he looked inside and her face blushed furiously with humiliation and anger as piece after piece of the stolen merchandise was pulled out and placed on the counter. A box of tampons, a box of bandaids, a few cans of soup, a roll of half used toilet paper, and a bottle of equally used hand soap lined the counter. Chris furrowed his brow as studied the items. 

"And the candy bar Missy." Jerry gruffed out with a glare

Chris glanced at Lucy and she hesitated. The chocolate was the one thing she was really hoping to get out with. Chris held out his hand impatiently and Lucy reached behind her back and pulled the Hershey bar out of her pocket. She slammed it into Chris' palm with such force that the pieces broke apart. With a sigh Chris put it on the counter with the other items. 

"What do you have to say for yourself girl? Stealing from a hardworking old man, none of you have any respect for your elders anymore! Need a good ass whoopin is what you need. Even stole from the bathroom." Jerry ranted and Lucy visibly cringed

"That's enough, Mr Reed." Chris interrupted 

"I want her dealt with Christopher. Arrest her."

Lucy tensed and Chris held up his hand 

"Just wait a minute Jerry. Look at what she's got here. This looks like necessary stuff, doesn't it? Luce? Is everything okay at home?"

"That's not your business." Lucy held back the tears, letting anger overcome the sadness 

"Is your dad not buying things you need?" 

"Stay out of it!" Lucy hissed through her teeth, shaking

"I can't help if you don't talk to me, kiddo." Chris tried "Lucy I ca-"

"You're not in charge anymore. You don't work for my school because you left." Lucy spit the word out like it left a bad taste in her mouth and she stepped closer to Chris "You're not even on duty, you can't do shit. What are you even wearing?" 

Chris looked down at his red plaid button up shirt and frowned. 

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing" Chris asked, slightly offended 

 The realization that Lucy had never seen him without of his uniform came too late. Lucy had snatched the Hershey bar and bolted, the door slamming shut behind her. 

"Lucy!" Chris shouted but there was no use. The girl was gone. Chris groaned and buried his face in his hands as he leaned against the counter. 

"She left the property. I'm calling the police." Jerry stated as he picked up the landline phone

"For christ sake old man it's a candy bar. Puts you back what? A buck twenty five?" Chris took the phone and put it back on the receiver and slammed a couple dollars on the counter "In fact…"

He walked back to the cooler to grab his sought after beer then grabbed a proper back of bathroom tissue and a bottle of soap. 

"How much for all of it?"

Jerry shook his head but began to ring up the groceries. 

"You keep coddling these kids, Christopher, and none of them will learn their lesson. It'll be $48.62. "

"No wonder people steal from you." Chris jokes as he ran his credit card through the machine. He knew Jerry couldn't control the inflation and prices of goods these days. The old man swatted at him but did crack a toothless grin. 

Chris bid farewell to Jerry and took the bags out to his truck. He placed them in the front seat and drove off, keeping an eye out for Lucy the whole way home. He had no idea where she lived and with it being a holiday weekend it'd be Tuesday before he could get Erin to get her address out of the file. 

"Hang in there kid." Chris muttered as he parked the truck in his driveway. 

Lucy ran until her lungs burned. Tears streamed down her face and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing. She shouldn't have to steal to provide for her family. She cursed herself for not telling Chris what was going on but she couldn't. He wouldn't help her, he'd just call the social services and they'd ruin everything. She caught her breath and wiped her eyes angrily before standing up and brushing the dirt off her jeans, cursing herself again for getting them dirty knowing it'd be a few days before she could wash them. She clutched the broken candy bar and made her way back home not ready to face the fact that she was going to turn up empty handed. 

#destroyer!chris #sebastian stan #fan fiction #fanfic #safe haven

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

The Fallen, 13/17

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 13/17.

Pairings: Nine x Rose.

A/N: Tagging @thebookster on her demand.

“We've all fallen, but at the same time we're not broken. There is the hint that we are going to get up again.” - Amy Lee.

CHAPTER 13:

Maxence was standing in his underwear in the bathroom. He held his arms out, inside up, and waited. His brother was examining every inch of his skin – hands, fingers, arms, elbows, legs, toes – and checking his face – his eyes, inside his nostrils, inside his mouth. Th end of this exam consisted in him peeing in a plastic recipient Tegan was carefully sealing and dropping at the lab he was working with as a doctor. Every day, it was the same routine. A mandatory routine for him. He had gone through four detoxifications in two years so now, his family was taking all the necessary measures for him not to dive back a fifth time. It could be lethal to him. His liver and his brain had been badly damaged by years of drugs and alcohol intakes. He had been clean for six months now and the withdrawal and need for a new dose that could numb his pain for a little longer, but he was resisting, for the sake of his family. He was doing much better, every day, one day at a time. The first weeks after his last rehab journey he had lived at his mother’s under the close watch of his mother and brother. At night, he was tied to his bed, someone was sleeping on a camp bed beside his bed, the door was locked. They were taking turns to watch over him and get some rest. They were taking turns to take care of him when he was sick. On days, he was working as his mother’s assistant in the elementary school she was a teacher in. He was preparing the classroom on morning and cleaning it at the end of the day, after all kids were gone. He sometimes helped preparing the lessons and activities for the next day. It helped me to adopt a new routine and to be surrounded by ‘normal’ people again. He was reinserted in society as if he had never been gone. It was easy to forget he was ever gone. But not for Joanne, not for Tegan and certainly not for him. This routine had given him a proper pace of life and had enabled him to focus on a better lifestyle. This withdrawal never really left him but it was easier to be oblivious of it when you had something to keep yourself busy. He was offered a part time contract when he resumed his psychology studies. He was unsure of what he would do once he would get his certification. At least, he would have certifications. It was better than what he had six months ago. He had just come home from a late class and was starving. The medical exam used to irritate him so much before. Now, he was used to it. He showed when Tegan was done and dinner was ready when he came out of the bathroom with a large T-shirt and sweatpants on. They cleaned the kitchen together, Tegan helped him with his lessons and they went to sleep. They both were working the next day. This flat was new to the both of them. They had moved in last month. Since Maxence was stable, he was allowed to live by himself in his own flat but the decision was heavy and they were all worried that the solitude could drive him back to the dark side so Tegan had left his ridiculously small studio and they had taken this three rooms flat and were sharing the rent. Maxence had the larger room, though he never understood what was the point of this decision. Tegan should have had the bigger room in his opinion. His job required him to have a proper desk to work on and if the smaller bedroom could fit the desk and the bed, it didn’t leave much room for moving around, but Maxence hadn’t insisted, hadn’t fought. He took what he was given and worked with it. His mother and brother only wanted him to be fine again. They knew better than him. Tegan would never forget the day he had come to his mother’s and found his brother unconscious on the ground with vomit close by. He was doing an overdose and if he hadn’t been found in time – which was a question of minutes in this case – he would have died. His lips were blue, he wasn’t breathing, he wasn’t responsive. Tegan had had to push aside the fact that it was his brother dying under his hands and remember how to do his work properly. If he hadn’t intervened that day, Maxence would be dead. The man had no memory of this but Tegan would never forget. It would forever haunt his mind. He had been the one insisting on Maxence going to rehab when Joanne wanted to heal him at home. After a failed attempt, she had decided that rehab would be better for him. Even if it took four tries to have him cured. They were glad to have the old Maxence back. Gone were the non-sense about a bad wolf, a flying blue box and a mysterious imaginary woman called Rose he was continuously writing to. Joanne had kept all the letters, they were neatly gathered in a wooden box she was hiding in her room, away from Maxence’s curious hands and eyes. Being sober had made him forget it all about all these bullshits he was spewing when he was high and drunk. If they were asking him one single question, he would look sincerely confused as if it had been entirely deleted from his mind with the reasons of why he was drinking and drugging himself in the first place. He had had brain scans but no damaged had been detected. Nothing to explain his sudden memory loss of the last two years of his life. Without his struggle to remain clean and sober, he would have pondered the question. He was keeping on with his life, one step at a time, oblivious to the two years gap in his memory. Some people would go mad from not remembering such a long period of their life. They would try at all costs to get it back if it was possible. Not Maxence. He had disappeared for two years, had no memory of it and wasn’t looking for getting these memories back. Last time he had tried such a thing, it had ended up with drugs and alcohol and he refused to dive back for the sake of his family, and for his own sake. His health was fragile since he had messed up so much with his body and another deviation could actually kill him. After going through so much pain and ordeals, after fighting to get better, it would be a shame to abandon the battle. Especially when things were finally going well for him. He woke up once that night to the sound of discreet footsteps in the flat. He opened his eyes wide and pricked up his ears, his heart racing. His instincts kicked in and forced him silently out of bed with the first thing he could find by hand: his Gibson Les Paul that had seen better days. It was a wonder he hadn’t sold it when he was in need of money for drugs. Instead, he was selling himself. It only worked for a time. He was so glad to be out of these vicious circles he had fallen into. It wasn’t easy every day but life in itself was never an easy game to start with. You had to be prepared to face the good times as well as the bad times. Sometimes there were more bad times than good times. You had to take the blows until it got better and if it didn’t get better soon enough, you just gotta be strong. He had to be strong. He pushed the door open without a noise and sneaked out of his bedroom. His eyes got used to the darkness and scanned the surroundings. He was expecting to see some kind of burglars nosing around to find anything valuable, was ready to surprise them and knock them out before calling the police. He was almost excited by the adrenaline rushing through his mind and body at the idea of danger and justice. He was disappointed though to find out it was only Tegan who was getting ready to leave the flat and checking his bag. He nearly had a heart attack when Maxence switched on the lights ready to knock him out with his guitar. “Are you out of your mind?” The young doctor was keeping his voice low to avoid waking up the neighbours. It was a quiet district and a quiet neighbourhood. He wouldn’t be the one to break the rule. Neither was Maxence who put the guitar down on the table and placed a hand over his heart as if to soothe its maddening rate. “You’ve scared me, damn it! Thought there was a thief or somethin’.” “Yeah, sorry. Night emergency. I shouldn’t be long. Was gotta leave a note.” His Scottish accent that came from years of orphanage with a Scottish social worker – or even from his biological parents, whoever they might be – was stronger due to the fear Maxence had caused him. When he was facing intense emotions, Tegan was almost impossible to understand for anyone who hadn’t grown up with him. “’Kay. You called mom?” “Nope. You’re on your own about this. Big test for you.” Tegan tapped his shoulders, Maxence was dumbfounded. He was never left alone. Not once in the last six months had he been alone at home or at work. Annoying, but for his safety. It was the very first time he would be alone since he was out of his fourth detox. Quite scary and really big test. Once Tegan was gone, Maxence drunk a big glass of water and went back to bed with his phone. It took him a moment to fall back asleep. The concept of being alone in the flat was new and pretty frightening to him who was constantly fighting demons threatening to overwhelm him again. He woke up a second time that night. He had expected his second waking to be at the sound of his brother coming back home. Yet, despite the time that had passed between the last time he checked his alarm clock and now, Tegan wasn’t home. It was pain that woke him up. He felt a deep, jagged, burning pain in the fleshy part of his right forearm. It ceased for a second, then the pain hit again like a knife driven deep in his flesh and moving around to inflict as much pain as possible and create just as many manages. He switched the light on with a cry of pain and glanced at his arm. His eyes grew wide with horror and shock when he saw the blood covered his sheets and skin. Immediately he pressed a hand on the wounded arm and rushed to the bathroom. He rinsed the blood as the invisible knife was continuing his business until suddenly the pain was gone and three letters showed up in the middle of the blood: ‘RUN’. For a long moment, he stared confusedly at the three letters deeply carved in his skin as blood was still flowing out from the cuts. His mind was racing, his heart was pounding hard, his hands were shaking, he was breathless. He blinked, rubbed his eyes but the three letters were still there, still painful and bloody. ‘RUN’. He used to love running when he was younger but his bad habits had gotten the best of it and he had stopped doing sports. He should get back to it soon. It was important for him to keep in shape now that he had a healthier life. ‘RUN’. Why this word? Was it a reminder of a past he had forgotten? He could hear himself saying those words to someone. It was in a basement. Perhaps a dream. It looked too weird to be a real-life situation. ‘RUN’. How had those words appeared on his skin so suddenly? He was certain not to have done that to himself in his sleep. The letters just came out of nowhere. He gripped the edge of the sink when dizziness from the loss of blood hit. His left hand had a stronger grip than his right one. It was lacking of strength. The cuts were deep and needed to be taken care of. He would pass out if he couldn’t get a hold of a doctor. Thankfully, he had some knowledge in medicine thanks to Tegan and to his own studies. He cleaned the blood from his arm the best he could and wrapped it tight in a towel. Then, he ran to his bedroom and grabbed his phone. He called his mother first but she wasn’t answering. She was still asleep. He tried Tegan who was obviously not home but didn’t get any luckier. He was left to deal with this non-sense on his own. Great. First night alone and he had to go through something like this. What would his mother say? What would Tegan say? If he was telling them the truth, they would think he was crazy or high again and would never trust him ever again. Words just didn’t appear all of a sudden on someone’s skin. It wasn’t possible. If he was lying to them, if he said that he did that to himself, they would be sad and worried about his mental health. He didn’t have a therapist. They had thought it would be a bad idea considering his mad words. They would have had him locked away in the loony bin. The thought of it was terrifying him for some mysterious reason. He managed to gather his ID papers, his keys and phone in a bumbag he put on his shoulder. He left the flat quickly, locked the door, thought that if Tegan was coming home to find no one and bloody sheets he would freak out. He went down the first flight of stairs, tripped on the last step and ran into the wall nearly knocking himself out. How was he supposed to reach the closest hospital if he couldn’t even get out of his place without tripping?

To be continued...

The Fallen © | 2019 | Tous droits réservés.

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#doctor who #ninth doctor #rose tyler #doctor x rose #dw fic #the fallen

[oh1captain9my4captain2]

Chasing Time

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: Major Endgame spoilers

Words: 2,100 (I am so SO sorry! I went a little overboard with this chapter😬)

With time constantly ticking by, the reader decides it’s finally time to start a family. With or without a man. So she recruits one of the Avengers for assistance. But how exactly will that pan out for them? (Part 12 of my series - Chasing Time)

With Christopher finally under control you were able to have a little peace of mind. Having a baby in Stark Tower with Steve, and Natasha was the greatest experience in the world. Although you and Nat had your differences, you had still managed to coincide with one another for the sake of not going completely mad. Shortly after discovering Christopher’s powers, though, you’d all made the move to the compound. Tony had left after making the super suit for his godchild with the announcement that Pepper was expecting; assuring you that if anything went wrong you should give him a call. Your kids were going to be almost nine months apart, but, even so, it took five years for them to finally meet.

“Christopher! Your lunch is ready!” You shouted down the hall to your five year old son. He’d been in the living room playing with his toy action figures which was a change from what he usually did; messing with his powers. Most of them had dissipated with time, but one of them in particular had stuck around for good. His metallic ability was the first one to go, along with the telekinesis shortly after; which you couldn’t say you were mad about. The one that stayed; being able to light things on fire.

Steve had grown to calling him the “human torch” at three years old, and the nickname stuck. They would practice the safety of super powers outside on the front lawn; which generally ended in more than one thing catching on fire while Steve attempted to put it out with the fire extinguishers that were always on hand. It was considered a good day when only a few things managed to get singed, and, while he’d never been as buff as his father, he still wasn’t the smallest boy in his class. One thing that never changed in the slightest was his striking resemblance to Steve, and you questioned when someone might begin to notice, but no one ever did.

“Mom, someone’s at the front gate. He’s yelling something about ants,” your son said, confused.

“Well, where’s Steve?” You asked, wondering why he hadn’t opened the gate, or at least check to see who it was.

“Nat told me he was at another meeting,” Christopher explained, setting his Captain America action figure on the bar as he took a few bites of his dinosaur chicken nuggets.

Steve had been attending more and more meetings lately. While he’d managed to help a few of the people move on, there were still several that remained stuck in the past; just like him. What you didn’t know was that he still talked about you there, and how he had been fighting this battle for over five years of whether he should move on from Peggy, or keep her presence alive through him. Steve talked about your son, and how close they had become; not to mention the feelings he got when he saw the two of you together. Whether you were playing, talking, or relaxing on the couch with Christopher, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he might want something more.

Every time, the instructor always asked him the same question, sounding like a broken record. “What does your heart tell you?” That was the problem, even after all this time, it still wouldn’t give him a direct answer.

“What is that sound?” You heard Steve remark, coming into the kitchen and swiping a chicken nugget from off his son’s plate.

“Thought you were at another meeting?” You questioned, giving him the side eye for taking Christopher’s food.

“We finished early,” he corrected, listening even closer. “Am I hearing things, or does it sound like someone is yelling?”

“Must be your hearing, I read that it’s the first thing to go with age,” you joked, playfully, and he rolled his eyes.

“I told mommy some strange man has been yelling outside about ants,” Christopher shrugged, throwing his Captain America doll into the air as he pretended it could fly.

Steve’s expression shifted to curiosity before heading to the living room for Friday to pull up the front cameras for the house. On his way out of the kitchen, though, he turned around and pointed at his son. “Captain America doesn’t fly,” he corrected, smirking as he continued on his way.

“Friday, open the camera for the front gait,” Steve ordered, looking directly at a disheveled Scott Lang who was leaping up and down and shouting nonsense.

Natasha sat up from her seat behind him in shock. “What the hell?” She fumbled for the controls, zooming in on his face to confirm it was him.

“This is an old message, right?” Steve thought, trying to brush it off as some kind of coincidence, but what he hadn’t expected was for Natasha to shake her head no.

Immediately they opened the gate and let him in, freaking out when they learned how he had made it back. “Do you think we could get the others back the same way?” Steve considered as the excitement in the room began to build.

Scott went on about time travel, and later it was suggested that you all get the gang back together. What they had forgotten to remember was that Tony Stark was a father now, and so was Steve. Reversing the affects completely would still mean losing people you cared about. Which is why there would be no reversing it all; just bringing them all back to the present.

That’s exactly how you all ended up at Tony Stark’s cabin in the woods. You had to admit that the lake was beautiful, but the seclusion itself did not scream Stark Tower. No, it seemed as though starting a family had really caused him to change his ways.

To be honest, you hadn’t tagged along in the hopes of getting the opportunity to time travel. What you really wanted was to be able to see Tony again. Life had gotten in the way of you two, and, even though you were best friends, there still was never enough time for you and him to get together. He said he’d always be a phone call away, but you always told yourself that a phone goes two ways, and, if he didn’t want to talk to you, you would still be okay.

“Hey, tin-man, long time no see,” you snapped, smirking at him as you ran over to give Tony Stark a hug.

“What’s going on, guys?” He laughed, squeezing you tightly as he looked over at Natasha, Scott, Steve, and Christopher.

“We may have found a way to bring everyone back,” Steve informed him, using his authoritative tone. You had to admit, it’d been a long time since you’d heard him use his Captain America voice, but it was still just as hot as you’d remembered years ago.

“Sorry guys, I can’t. Anything else, anything, but not that,” Tony politely declined. Even after Scott’s in depth explanation, and how positively sure he was that it would work, Tony still refused to budge.

We left feeling less enthusiastic, but we had managed to convince Thor, Rocket, Banner, Nebula, Rhodey, and Clint to rejoin our team. Which brought us back to the compound where we were preparing our first jump.

Scott was the first to go back on his own which hadn’t ended as planned. First; we didn’t think we’d get him back, then he was a teenager, and an old man, and, finally, a baby. Until we‘d mastered it on the fifth try, and got the original Scott back.

After our first trial run with him we let Clint go back to guarantee our success. Which came back as our first official good leap, putting us in the clear to all go back together.

Not before Tony decided to make his grand appearance, though. I was expected to follow strict orders from Tony, and Steve. They wanted me to remain unseen since my past self wouldn’t have been with them after they’d captured Loki. I was basically just going to be there in the off chance that they needed me.

Christopher would be joining us in the jump, and, although his powers were dodgy at best, he still could come in handy. “Are you ready?” You had asked him as you took his hand. He shook his head excitedly, and gave Steve a smile before you all went back to the year 2012.

With the dispersal of everyone throughout the town, you and Christopher made your way to the lobby of Stark Tower. Tony said that it shouldn’t take him long and he would be down with the tesseract. As you waited there with your son, though, you began to question whether or not he was ever actually going to show. That was until he finally came down, and he still managed to let the tesseract fall into Loki’s hands so that he could get away.

“Well, that went better than I thought it would,” you admitted, sarcastically, as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Give me a break, I was trying my best. Where were you?” Tony remarked, giving you a side eye.

“Taking care of my son, and watching you, butterfingers,” you retaliated, annoyed.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to go with plan ‘B’,” Tony thought allowed as we met up with Steve and Scott.

“Tell me you got it?” Steve growled in his husky voice, already giving Tony a dirty look.

“Not exactly,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have a plan, though!”

Tony’s plan was for us to go back to the 1970’s, and you were anything but okay with that. You knew there was a chance that Steve would see Peggy, and you didn’t know if you could handle that kind of rejection taking place right in front of you. It was one thing to imagine it in your head, but seeing it with your own eyes would be the very thing that would break your heart.

Of course that meant Tony insisting you go with them; partially because he wanted you as back up, and because he wanted you there for Steve. You hesitated, but agreed, and Scott assured you that he’d take care of Christopher while you were gone.

Steve seemed to know his way around the 70’s, and when you followed him down an elevator and into a dark room you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Peggy was standing on the other side of the glass in the middle of a conversation with someone else. Your eyes drifted to Steve who was watching her intensely, but you couldn’t make out the expression on his face. Was he considering the idea of running in there?

You were pulled from your thoughts by Steve who was gesturing for you to follow him out, so that you could get back to Tony. The entire time you couldn’t shake the idea, though, that something had changed. He seemed to hold himself differently, and his dark, stern, voice made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“You may be the star spangled man with a plan, but are you sure you know where you’re going?” You scoffed, following him down enough hallways that you were starting to get dizzy.

“Be quiet,” he ordered, making it down a long stretch before pushing open a door as the sunlight poured across your face.

“You know, you may be in charge of everyone else, but I don’t have to listen to you.” The words cut like knives as they slipped off your tongue, and you immediately regretted having said it.

“Then why exactly are you here? I’m trying to help you, and if people hear you talking like that then you’re gonna blow our cover.” His retaliation hadn’t been angry, but informing, which made you realize that he hadn’t been saying it to be rude. No, he was doing it to get the job done, and get out of here. What was it that ran through his head when he saw Peggy after all these years? Why was he so ready to go back to the present?

It was too late, Tony was back, and you were all standing together to prepare for the leap back to the future. You would just have to give it a little extra thought some other time because, right now, looking up at him, it didn’t feel like you were standing next to Captain America. It felt like you were with the person you’d fall in love with oh so long ago; Steve Rogers.

——————————————

@carebaredanvers @torntaltos @homecomlng @bluediamondsevie @vesta-ro @iron-sass

@marcelaverzani @mrspeacem1nusone

@myles-production @stevieboyharrington

@mariemrose @ncrediblelove

@captain-seriously-don-t @xchrisxevansx @marvelouspottering @stat89posts

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@humandasaster @sgtevanstan @americasarse @theroyalbrownbarbie

#captain america #chris evans #steve rogers #avengers #avengers age of ultron #avengers infinity war #avengers endgame #avengers endgame spoilers #endgame #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #captian america fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #captain america the first avenger #captain america winter soldier #captain america civil war #gif not mine

[strangerivy]

Double Life Strangers - Seven

Summary: The company heads into the mountain pass to be caught up in a Giant’s battle, the seek refuge in a cave only to be woken up in the middle of the night. Warnings: Swearing Pairings: Fíli Durin X Original Character (Lillian)  Genre: 18+ | Fluff | Angst Word Count: 3021 Author’s Note:  If you would like to be tagged in future parts let me know! 

|| One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight (Coming Soon) | Masterlist ||

Fíli shook me awake what only felt like a few hours later. I groaned pulling the blanket over my face fighting what I knew would be a losing battle. Fíli gently pulled the blanket down just far enough to see my eyes. I looked up at him with the best puppy eyes I could muster in such a tired state and he chuckled quietly just loud enough for us to hear. He pulled the blanket down just a little further to see my full puffed out lip in frown forcing a smile on his face which brightened my own. We laughed quietly sharing the small happy moment, cherishing it because we knew they would be few and far until we got to Erebor.

He offered his hand I took it getting myself up. I yawned stretching out. I was getting tired of sleep on the ground, made me regret leaving Rivendale for just a moment. Only a moment. Fíli rolled up the sleeping mats and blankets and I took mine getting them strapped to my pack. It was just before dawn and I could see the small pink line on the horizon.

“Let’s head out!” Thorin shouted at the group and we started off, it was a rather quiet walk. I tried to take in much of the scenery around me letting Fíli guide me through the trail. I stumbled over another rock which was probably the fifth time since we started, and it was a little after mid-day now. 

“You know Lillian, if you watched the path and not the view that probably wouldn’t happen,” Kíli joked with a grin, I stuck my tongue out at him turning back to face the front. I felt a drop of water hit my nose making my nose scrunch up, I looked up at the sky to see the rain clouds forming.

“We are close to the mountain pass, be on your guard.” Thorin shouted back at the group and looked back making eye contact with me “And watch your step, Miss Baggins,” I felt my cheeks heat up and I looked down trying to hide my embarrassment. Fíli gave a gentle squeeze of my hand I looked up at him with a shy smile.

“When we get to the pass, be sure to not let go of my hand.” He said I nodded my head giving his hand a squeeze. When we entered the mountain pass, I quickly understood why he said that. 

The path was nothing, but a thin ledge carved in the mountainside and one slip could mean a fall to your death. The rain was pouring down on us now making the rocks slick and it took a lot of focus to keep my footing. I held on to Fíli’s hand tightly not daring to let go. The thunder roared above us and that’s when I heard a yell. I looked ahead to see Bilbo nearly fall off the edge but Dwalin was there to pull him back quickly. I covered my mouth holding back the scream. Fíli looked back to check on me.

“He’s alright, they’ve got him,” He reassured loud enough for me to hear him over the rain and thunder. I nodded mustering up a smile.

“We must find shelter!” Thorin yells as we moved as quickly and cautiously as we could forward.

“Look out!” Dwalin yelled I looked up at where he was looking to see a giant boulder head towards us. I turned, clinging to the wall, placing my arms above my head to protect me from the falling rocks.

“This is no thunderstorm, it’s a thunder battle, look!” Balin pointed out into the distance and what I saw is something I could not believe. A giant made from the mountain emerged grabbing a chunk out of the mountain it was on, tossing it across the canyon at another one behind us. Suddenly, the mountain beneath us also began to move.

“Take cover,” Thorin yelled, my breathing started to pick up as the panic and fear rushed through me. The mountain started to split next to Fíli forcing Kíli away from us and half of the party. I made eye contact with my brother, fear in both our expressions. I broke the gaze looking back over at Kíli.

“Kíli, take my hand!” Fíli yelled over at his brother but it was to late the gap was to large for him to make the jump. We watch helpless as we were separated from Kíli and my brother. I was quick to notice that we were standing on the knees of a stone giant that was now taking part in the battle. I clung to the wall and Fíli for dear life as we stood helpless as the giant moved. I screamed with every quick jolt trying my hardest to keep from slipping. 

We passed the other half the group who was able to reach a cliff and jump off the giant. Another hit came from a giant and the one we were on, started to fall forward.

“Get ready to jump,” Fíli said pulling my hand up, I looked up at him not believe what he was saying.

“Are you mad!” I screamed and before I knew it, he was pulling me off the collapsing giant and onto another landing, he quickly rolled on top of me to protect me from the falling rocks from the Giant's impact. I could hear yelling as Fíli lifted himself off me.

“Where’s Bilbo?” I heard Bofur ask panic evident in his voice. I shot up quickly pulling my self up off the ground searching the bodies for my brother. I looked and screamed as I saw him dangling from the cliffside.

“Bilbo!” I screamed again as I watched his grip slip, but he was able to grab onto another rock. Ori and Bofur reached down trying to get him to grasp on. Thorin quickly jumped down grabbing him from slipping again hold himself up with one hand on the cliffside. His grasp slipped but Dwalin was able to quickly grab ahold of Thorin lifting him back up to safety.

Once Bilbo was back on solid ground, I quickly pushed my way over to him bring him into a hug.

“Don’t you dare, do that to me again,” I muttered my voice cracking from the tears streaming down my face.

“Believe me, I don’t plan on it.” He said out of breath, still in shock.

“I thought we lost our burglar,” Dwalin said, I let go of Bilbo but stayed close next to him.

“He’s been lost ever since he left home. He never should have come. He has no place amongst us.” My body began to heat up from the anger that was forming but Bilbo gripped onto my wrist before I could start yelling shaking his head. I kept my mouth shut for Bilbo’s sake even though I wanted to scream at Thorin for being so thoughtless.

We found a cave for the night and Fíli got our bed ready close to Bilbo’s at my request.

“Lily, I’m fine. You really don’t need to hover.” Bilbo sighed as I laid down in my bed facing him where he had made his.

“Yes, I do. You are my brother and I almost lost you today.” I pulled the covers up around me closing my eyes, “Deal with it.” I muttered before drifting off to sleep but not before hearing a rather large sigh from Bilbo.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I was woken up by Thorin shouting and before I could really grasp what was going on the floor beneath us disappeared and we slid down into the mountain landing with a thud on a wooden platform pilling on top of one another. I looked ahead to see a swarm of Goblins coming towards.

“Fíli!” I called out to him reaching behind me for his hand but just as I was able to reach, I was pulled forward pushed through a sea of Goblins. They pushed us through the boardwalks, and I search around the sea of heads and spotted Kíli just behind me.

“Kíli!” I yelled, he quickly turned his head to look at me and shoved his way forward placing an arm around my shoulder protecting me as best he could from the grasp of the Goblins as they shoved us forward. “Where are they taking us?” I asked looking up at him

“They’re taking us to there king,” He said shoving off a goblin only making the thing push back harder.

“Where is Fíli?” I asked not spotting him in the crowd

“He’s back there, don’t you worry.” He gave me a reassuring smile; we came to a sudden halt in a more open cavern in the mountain and was better lit than the one we fell in. A giant Goblin sat on a poorly constructed wooden throne in front of us. It seemed to be made of whatever wood they could find.

The Goblins began searching us for weapons, mostly anything that was in plain sight that would seem to be a threat. They took my bow and arrows and before he could find my knives Fíli appeared behind me shoving them off.

“Keep your grimy hands off her.” He growled at the goblin making it flinch backward.

“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?” The Goblin King asked making his way off his throne and closer to our group. The goblins searching us moved to the outer room allowing their king to get a better look at us. “Spies? Thieves? Assassins?” 

“Dwarves, your malevolence.” One of the goblins answered. Fíli grabbed onto my hand rubbing his thumb across my knuckles to calm my nerves. 

“Dwarves!” The king shouted in disbelief

“We found them on the front porch.” The smaller goblin responded again. I wanted to look around to see if I could spot Bilbo, but I didn’t want to catch the king’s attention.

“Well don’t just stand there. Search them!” The Goblin King commanded; commotion broke out again as the goblins began to search us once again. Fíli kept me back away from them as best he could, allow my knives to remain hidden. When they were able to find nothing more, they stopped turning towards there king for further instruction.

“What are you doing in these parts?” the Goblin King asked looking at each of us, but no one spoke up. His eyes dwelled a little longer as he spotted me in the crowd. “Speak.” The king demanded again but once again none us spoke up. A smirk appeared on the Goblin King’s face. “Very well. If they will not talk, we’ll make them squawk! Bring up the mangler!” He shouted at his subjects. My eyes widen with panic not liking the sound of that contraption in the slightest. The Goblin king’s eyes once again met mine. “Start with the woman.” Fíli quickly pushed me behind him using his body as a shield. 

“Wait!” Thorin’s voice came from the back and he moved his way to the front. The Goblin king looked surprised at Thorin.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. King under the mountain.” The Goblin king jokingly bowed to Thorin. “Oh! But I’m forgetting. You don’t have a mountain and you’re not a king. Which makes you nobody, really.” The goblins chuckled quietly at their king, but I could feel the anger radiating off the dwarves at the insults. The Goblin King leaned in closer.

“I know someone who would pat a pretty price for your head. Just a head. Nothing attached. Perhaps you know of who I speak.” The Goblin King stood up as straight as he could, “An old enemy of yours. A pale Orc, astride a white Warg.”

“Azog the Defiler was destroyed.” Thorin said not believe the king “He was slain in battle long ago!”

“So, you think his defiling days are done, do you?” The Goblin King chuckled menacingly moving towards a small goblin attached to some sort of pulley system. “Send word to the pale Orc. Tell him, I have found his prize.”

The goblins began bringing up the torture devices that the Goblin King had requested, and their king was dancing around singing an awful tune.

“Bones will be shattered; necks will be rung!

You’ll be beaten and battered,

From racks, you’ll be hung!

You will die down here

And never be found.

Down in the deep of Goblin-town.”

A sudden scream from one of the goblins came from the crown and I was able to see him throw Thorin’s sword down, fear written on its face. The Goblin King backed away crawling onto his throne in fear of the sword. Point a shaky hand at the sword.

“I know that sword! It is the Goblin-cleaver!” The goblins suddenly became violent, I grabbed two of my throwing knives holding onto them with my knuckles slicing what goblins came close to me. “The biter! The blade that sliced 1000 necks.” Fíli grabbed ahold of my shoulder pulling me back behind him again forcing me to back up slowly to the rest of the group.

“Kill them! Slash them! Kill them all!” The king shouted making the goblins become even more violent. One lunged overhead and I used Fíli to jump up to slice its neck with my knives, it’s body falling to the ground lifeless. “Cut off his head!” The Goblin King demanded. Fíli, Kíli and I watched helplessly stuck in the middle of the crowd as Thorin was pushed to the ground a Goblin pulled out a knife ready to cut his throat.

A sudden flash of white light and a strong gust of wind pushed us all down to the ground including the Goblin king. I looked up to spot Gandalf emerging from the darkness. 

“Take up arms.” He shouted as the dwarves regained there footing. I crawled my way back over to my bow and arrows grabbing ahold of them moving my way towards Gandalf, Fíli close behind me with his sword now in his grasp again and several of his daggers back in their sheaths. “Fight!” Gandalf yelled and the dwarves began fighting back send some of the goblins off the edge of the platform. I drew my arrows and fired them as quickly as I could trying to get what I could of our group. Thorin swung at the Goblin king sending him stumbling back off the platform.

“Follow me!” Gandalf ordered as we head out from where he appeared through the boardwalks. “Run!” Gandalf shouted as we began running killing whatever Goblin got in our way. I stayed close to Fíli watching our back as he pushed our way forward. 

“This is absolutely,” I shoved off a goblin stabbing it in the neck “not what I signed up for!” I shouted Fíli laughed and grabbed my hand as we ran forward as the way became clearer. We started across a bridge when the Goblin king burst through cutting us off. We became surrounded quickly after that.

“You thought you could escape me!” The Goblin king swung his club at Gandalf, but he was quick to dodge the attacks. “What are you going to do now, Wizard?” Gandalf lunged forward swinging his sword across the Goblin Kings belly slicing it open. The king fell to his knees and Gandalf finished him off with a slice to the throat. 

The Goblin King fell to the ground dead but the bridge we were standing on started to collapse beneath us and we started to fall into the cavern, the broken bridge becoming a makeshift sled. I screamed holding on to Fíli. We finally hit the ground and Kíli landed on top of me and I landed on top of Fíli I groaned at the weight of Kíli’s body on my stomach and something poking me in the back.

“Is that a dagger Fíli because if it’s not, this is hardly the time.” I chuckled and I could feel Kíli’s body shake with laughter too. 

"As much as I love have you pressed up against me, I would much rather see your face," I started wiggling my way out from Kíli, I looked up and my eyes went wide as the joy slowly faded away. I punched Kíli’s shoulder pointing past him to above us. A swarm of Goblins was climbing its way down towards us.

“Gandalf!” We both screamed quickly pushing the rubble off us, Kíli helping me to my feet and I turned grabbing onto Fíli’s hand pulling him up.

“There’s too many. We can’t fight them.” Dwalin said holding up Nori

“There’s only one thing that will save us, daylight!” Gandalf said and we began running as soon as we grabbed everyone from the pill. We quickly moved our way through a cave, and I could see light up ahead, a wave a relief rushed over me at the sight of the outside world. I needed out of the godforsaken mountain.

We quickly ran out of the cave and into the mountain woods moving our way away from the cave. We finally stopped and I collapsed to the ground catching my breath leaning up against a tree. I looked around and my eyes went wide as I could spot Bilbo.

“Where’s Bilbo?” I asked standing up looking around “Where is my brother!” I shouted tears started to break through leaving streaks on my dirty cheeks. Fíli pulled me back as I began to sob thinking the worst.

“Where is our Hobbit?” Gandalf shouted at the group of dwarves expecting and answer.

“Curse the halfling! Now he’s lost?” Dwalin shouted looking around

“I thought he was with Dori,” Gloin said pointing over at Dori. My breathing started to become uneven. Fíli guided me down to the ground rubbing my back trying to calm me.

“It’s alright, I’m sure he is fine.” He whispered as the others continued to argue. I didn’t care whose fault it was. I just wanted my brother.

#fili x oc #fíli durin x oc #Fili durin X OC #fili x reader #fili durin x reader #fíli x oc #fíli durin x reader #fili durin #fili #Fíli Durin #fíli durin fanfiction #Fíli #fili durin fanfiction #the hobbit #the unexpected journey #Thorin Oakenshield #thorin #bilbo baggins #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fandom

[cnrothtrek]

The Misrepresentation of Mental Disability in Star Trek: Discovery

Season two of Star Trek: Discovery has teased us for half a season with Spock having vague mental health issues and Starfleet being a big dick about his experience. In episode 8, “If Memory Serves,” we finally get an explanation for Spock’s strange behavior and see what happened when he escaped the psychiatric hospital. It is... infuriating.

The set up was bad enough, with its dangerous mentally ill person and he can’t really be mentally ill because he’s a nice person, with the gross violations of Spock’s rights and Amanda’s dreadful comment about how “‘emotional disturbance’ is code for ‘psychosis.’” It’s honestly a clusterfuck of misused terminology and harmful tropes. With episode 8 we’ve added the mental illness fake-out and when modern medicine fails try magic (telepathy), as well as another iteration of the INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS myth that psychiatric hospitals are scary places that might lock you up against your will and threaten your safety.

I can’t help but think back to the season one arc of the the only major character who had a psychiatric diagnosis last season... who also turned out to be a mental illness fake-out and was insta-cured by sci-fi magic. Looking back at this parallel, we see that the dreadful bait-and-switch representation of mental illness in season two was also used in season one, indicating that Star Trek: Discovery is not quite as progressive and inclusive as it purports itself to be.

So let’s talk about Tyler’s PTSD.

The misrepresentation of Tyler’s symptoms

According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, fifth edition (DSM-5), in order to receive a diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder a person must experience a traumatic event that meets specific criteria (such as a life-threatening event or witnessing violence). Then, for AT LEAST A MONTH after the event, someone must experience symptoms from ALL FOUR of the following categories:

Intrusion (e.g. flashbacks or nightmares)

Avoidance (staying away from things that remind the person of the event, avoiding thoughts or feelings related to event)

Arousal and reactivity (hyper aware of surroundings, exaggerated startle response, explosive unprovoked outbursts of anger, feeling on edge, sleep disturbance)

Mood and cognition (e.g. beliefs that the trauma was one’s own fault or that they’ll never be safe again, memory disruption, loss of interest in activities or ability to feel pleasure).

Although it’s clear Tyler and Voq experienced multiple traumatic events, and we see Tyler having intrusive flashbacks and nightmares—although they were mostly used as a plot device to conveniently convey backstory and foreshadow a major plot twist—we didn’t see clear examples of all four symptom groupings. Moreover, the timeline for his symptoms isn’t clear, but if we start the clock at his escape from the prison ship, I have doubts that it was a month. (Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.)

Now, I realize that no one directly gave Tyler the diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It was Admiral Cornwell who recognized his symptoms as trauma-based and said she had experience treating PTSD from her former medical practice, and she used her training to help talk Tyler through his reaction to seeing L’Rell. Still, viewers were expected to buy into this explanation so that the reveal of Tyler as Voq would be a surprise.

In short, they indicated that Tyler had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but they didn’t seem to do much research into what the symptoms or criteria for that disorder are. They misused terminology and exploited Tyler’s suffering for the sake of the plot. Then, they used a bait-and-switch tactic to reveal that he didn’t actually have a real-world psychiatric disorder after all, but just some fantastical sleeper agent side effects. They sold viewers on an inaccurate but compassionate representation of mental illness, then ripped that representation away from us and laughed about it all the way to the bank.

The problematic way Starfleet (and the show) handles officers with mental disorders

Tyler is suffering in season one. Clearly, he wants help, but he’s afraid that if he talks to a doctor he’ll be relieved of duty. He confides somewhat in Michael, but swears to her that he’ll get help if it becomes too much for him to handle. We later follow him on a mission to retrieve a data core with a worker bee, where seeing Klingon bodies triggers a flashback and he almost blows the mission. We, the audience, are supposed to take this as a sign that something is very wrong with Tyler and he isn’t fit for duty.

But here’s the thing: The way this story is told is discriminatory and harmful. If Starfleet were as compassionate and utopian as we’re supposed to believe, then they wouldn’t take away the thing that helps Tyler cope and stay active. Working is good for him; taking him off duty—particularly on a ship that for some stupid reason doesn’t have even one mental health professional on staff—would mean... what? What would he do to fill his time? When someone is suffering from trauma symptoms, too much spare time can be counterproductive. It can in fact be very triggering, opening up mental space for the trauma symptoms to fill. It would likely also add to Tyler’s sense of being an outsider on Discovery. His comrades are all working, but he is not.

Tyler doesn’t need to be relieved of duty. What he needs is for his commanding officer to accommodate his disability.

Out of universe, this is important because PTSD is very stigmatized in the US military, and many people fear losing security clearances or even being discharged because of such a diagnosis. The truth is that the stigma of diagnosis is much more dangerous than the diagnosis itself. Avoiding help can lead to worsening of symptoms and unexplained behaviors (such as snapping at a at a superior or avoiding certain triggering situations) that could have been excused and perhaps accommodated by having a diagnosis on record. Tyler’s situation has real world implications, and the way the show undercuts him over and over is downright harmful to real people living with this condition.

Let’s look at his mission to retrieve the data core. Now, there was really no good in-universe reason for him to be on that worker bee. He was a security officer, not a technician. Why send him instead of, say, Owosekun? The answer is that the plot demanded it. The mission was an excuse for Tyler to have another flashback, and the viewers were supposed to believe that he was messed up and unfit for duty.

But let’s say he was the ideal person for that mission. If Tyler had been receiving treatment, his doctor could write up a list of special needs he has and some accommodations Lorca could make to help him. Lorca would be legally required to fulfill those accommodations as best he could. It is not Tyler’s responsibility to bear all the weight and consequences of his disability; as the ones with more power and privilege, it is Starfleet’s job to accommodate him. So, maybe one of those accommodations could be that he doesn’t go on missions alone. If something triggers him, another officer is there to provide support.

How hard would that be to do? Answer: it’s not. Not at all. Accommodations are usually not hard to provide, but refusing to make accommodations is ableist. Unfortunately, Starfleet—the beacon of hope and progressiveness in science fiction—is unwilling to make accommodations for Ash Tyler and other personnel suffering from PTSD. They’d rather pull them from duty and put them out of sight so they won’t inconvenience anyone.

Instead of giving viewers an example of how the crew came together to support Tyler as a person suffering from trauma-based symptoms, the writers chose to put the burden of Tyler’s suffering squarely on his shoulders. With this choice, they heavily implied that people with PTSD are not capable of contributing to Starfleet and must be set aside until they’re “better.” THIS IS HARMFUL REPRESENTATION.

As someone who has personally experienced multiple mental disabilities, two of which are chronic and a third of which is trauma-based, it makes me wonder... would I have a place in Starfleet? Based on what I’ve seen in Star Trek: Discovery, my answer is no. I am not welcome to contribute to their so-called utopia.

Not at all.

If you want to support positive representations of mental disability in Star Trek, please tell them. Share this blog post on Twitter and tag their official accounts, or just tweet them your own thoughts about how their portrayals of psychiatric symptoms and healthcare are hurtful to you or your loved ones. If enough fans give them constructive feedback about this issue, they’ll listen. Thank you. Good health and stay safe.

#star trek discovery #dsc spoilers #mental illness #mental health stigma #representation matters #mental health #mental health in media #ash tyler #voq #spock

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Shot in the Dark

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

I haven’t focused on Schneep in this AU for a while, so that’s what gonna happen next. There’s also a side of Chase, just not the Chase we know. Anti seems to be picking them off one at a time...and I think it goes without saying that there’s angst

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read the past stories: Stitched Together | The Start of the Nightmare | The Silent Night | Speak No Evil | The Static Speaks Their Names

“Hey doc. Just checking in. Everything good? Uh, your shift ends at midnight, right? Me and JJ will come pick you up. And Schneep, since I know you’re thinking something along the lines of ‘that’s stupid I can do what I want,’ this is not negotiable. You’re not walking home alone through the dark city at night. Emphasis on alone. I-I don’t...want a repeat of last time, or...Chase. So we’re getting you. Safety in numbers. Cool, see you then. Bye.” With a beep, the voicemail ended.

Schneep didn’t trust it. Not one bit. Anti had already proven himself able to influence technology, who’s to say this wasn’t a trick of his? Still, the question was, if this wasn’t a trick and Jack really had sent that voicemail, could he afford to ignore it? JJ and Chase had been alone when they were attacked. He’d been alone, that night in December. It wasn’t safe. But if the voicemail was fake, then it wasn’t safe either. Schneep continued to struggle with this dilemma all the way through his shift, even as he set bones and preformed heart surgery.

The clock ticked to twelve o’clock, and he checked out, still having not made a decision. He changed out of his scrubs and headed toward the exit. Quite honestly, he didn’t like walking down the hospital halls anymore, especially when they were fairly empty. He went out of his way to check that there were indeed other people in the building, to check that it actually was real.

By the time he got to the hospital entrance, he still wasn’t sure what to do. He stopped next to the reception desk. Shelly, the receptionist, glanced at him. “You ‘kay there, doc?” she asked cheerfully. “You look kinda confuzzled.”

Schneep shook his head. “My friend said he was going to come walk me home.”

“Oh, and you don’t see him, huh? Isn’t he the one that’s your clone or somethin’? ‘Cause someone like that came in and asked about you earlier.”

“Really?” Schneep asked.

“Uh-huh. I told him you were in the O.R., and he said he’d wait outside. Even after I told him it would be fine to wait here, it is the waiting room after all.” Shelly laughed. “But he was very insistent. It is a warm night, so I let him.”

“And...there was only one of him?” Jack said in the voicemail that JJ was going to come too. Had something happened?

“Yeah.”

“Can you...give a bit more of a description?”

“Oh, sure.” Shelly pursed her lips, remembering. “He didn’t look too good, really. Kinda sick. He was wearing a grey shirt and a grey scarf and he kept his hands tucked deep in his pockets. And he had a cap pulled down over his eyes.”

Schneep paled. That wasn’t Jack or JJ, that was...but it had been nearly three months since what happened back in May, why’d he show up now? True, sometimes the three of them would receive taunts from Anti about him, but Schneep got the feeling this was something more serious than mere mockery. “You—you said he was waiting outside?”

Shelly nodded. “Are you sure you’re okay, doc? You look...”

“I am fine,” Schneep insisted. “I-I am leaving now. Good night, Shelly.” He didn’t wait to hear her return his good night, just walked straight toward to hospital entrance and pushed outside.

The outside wasn’t exactly dark, per say. The hospital had lamps set up. But currently one was out and a few were dimming, and the hospital was short-staffed enough that replacing the bulbs was not high on the list of custodial priorities. There were patches of shadow all over the roundabout and the nearby parking lot. At first glance, nobody was outside. But then Schneep turned his head to the left and saw him. A familiar silhouette leaning against the wall, right in one of the dark patches. He turned his head toward the doctor with a sudden jerky movement.

Schneep inhaled sharply. “Chase?” he whispered.

There was no answer. For a moment, Chase just stood there. Then without warning, he pushed away from the wall and ran in the other direction.

“Wait!” Schneep knew that Chase wouldn’t respond, but he couldn’t stop himself from calling out. He started to follow him before stopping abruptly. This couldn’t be a good idea. But...it was Chase, for god’s sake. If there was a chance, he had to try. Though, just in case, he had to tell the others where he was going. He knew the phone wasn’t safe, but he texted Jack a quick summary:anyway I saw Chase outside the hospital. He ran away and I know it is not best thing to do but I need to do this. After a moment’s hesitation, he added, Jack, you know you are one of my best friends? I just want you to know. Tell JJ too. Thank you. Then he pocketed the phone and ran after Chase.

It soon became clear that Chase wasn’t trying to run away, he was trying to lead him somewhere. Whenever Schneep got too far behind, Chase would stop and wait for him to close the distance before taking off again. Schneep tried to look around and memorize his surroundings, where they were in the city. But it wasn’t too long before he didn’t recognize anything. Where could they be going?

They reached an office building that looked like it had been abandoned for years. The windows were boarded up, and the stone facade was cracked in places. Schneep watched as Chase walked up to the door, pulled it open, and went inside. After a short pause, Schneep went inside as well.

The door swung shut behind him. Schneep immediately spun back around and pushed on it, but it wasn’t locked. It opened fine. That was odd. He could leave if he wanted...

He stood there for a moment before letting the door swing shut again. Then, slowly, he turned around again.

The medium-sized room was devoid of furniture. There were bare lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling. The walls were ripped open, exposing pipes and a lot of electrical wires and equipment. On the far side of the room was a pair of elevator doors, and an empty door frame revealing a stairwell going up. Chase was standing in between the elevator and the stairs, hands in pockets, a scarf around his neck. Schneep couldn’t stop himself from noticing how pale and thin he was. His cap was tilted up, and the static film was visible even across the room.

“Chase?” Schneep asked hesitantly. No answer. “Chase, can you—can you hear me?”

“Ýe̸s̨.”

Schneep shuddered, hearing the white noise breaking his voice. “Why are we here? Did you...did you want to see me?”

“The͠y̸ w̵ant͏ed t͠o̵ s̡eè y͝ou̵.͡”

“But what about you, Chase?” Schneep said softly. “What do you want?”

“I want͡ to ̸he̛l̡p the͝m." Chase pulled at the scarf around his neck and let it drop to the floor. “S͠ee̷?”

The sight of the green stitches made Schneep’s heart wrench. “That is not—Chase, that is not proof of good intentions. We just want you to come home, why can you not do that?”

“B̛eca̧ùşȩ ̡I̛'m aļready ͢t̴hȩre͡.” The elevator doors opened. Without looking away from Schneep, Chase backed up and stepped inside.

“No—!” Schneep sprinted forward, but the elevator doors closed before he was even halfway across the room. Still, he would not be deterred. He ran through the empty doorway and into the stairwell. Looking up, the stairs extended in a rickety spiral. He didn’t know where Chase was going. He didn’t even have a guess. So he’d be forced to check each floor systematically. Fine. He’d do it.

First floor from the bottom. Nothing. More bare lightbulbs and exposed wiring. A few cables dangling from the ceiling. There was only one room, as the door into the next had been boarded up. Second floor from the bottom, same result. But on the third floor, things changed. The lightbulbs were red now. A few TVs were stacked in the corners of the room, showing static. There was no boarded-up door, because there wasn’t a door at all.

Schneep was just about to leave when there was a break in the hiss of the static from the TV screens. A laugh. “Do you èn͏̸͏j̴o̶̴ý͟ going in ç͟͠i̸͟rc̕le̶̕s͏̢̡?̴̨” There was no doubt about who was asking that question.

“Shut the fuck up,” Schneep growled. He went back out into the stairwell and slammed the door behind him.

The fourth floor was just like the third, but with the addition of more TVs. “Why so h̢́͞o̧s͡t̛i̸͞lȩ, doctor?”

“You know exactly why!” When he returned to the stairwell again, the lights had gone red.

Fifth floor. There were wires on the floor and the TVs were mounted on the walls. “You’re blaming m̨̨è̷͟ for what happened t̵o̡̢ ̛͝y̨o̶̡̕u̕r̷͢ ̨f̵̧riend̛̛́s̕? Those two ş̸e̴̢͠a̷͢l̷ed ̡̧͢t͟͝h̕ei̡ŗ̴ ͢o̴̧͞ẁ̵͠n̶͞ ̸̛fa͠t̛͞e͟s̴.͞ I had nothing to do with it.”

“It’s not just about Jackie and Marvin and you know it!” Schneep realized he was just encouraging him. He resolved to not answer him any more, and concentrate on finding Chase.

As the stairwell rose higher and higher, it began to break down. Even more exposed wiring, holes in the drywall, even a few missing steps. Every floor got increasingly worse, the rooms getting smaller, but packed with more screens and wires. And something even more concerning: green string looped around the cables, strangely shimmering. Every time Schneep opened a door, Anti had a message for him.

Sixth floor. “You’re upset about t́́h̸e̡ ͠o̶͡th̵͡er̛͠ş͡, then? I assure you, I never meant Jack any harm. Not p͏̡̛è̷͝ŕ̴m̵̶͡an͞e̕nt̴̡́l̵̨̛y͞.”

Seventh floor. “Or are you thinking of t̢he͟͞ ͠f͏͏a͟͞k̷̛e͏ m̷̢a̵g̢͡i͏cia̷n͏̕'͠s̴ silence? If he wasn’t casting spells, he didn’t r̶̸̕e̢͟͢al̵̢̀lỳ̴̕ ̨ne̸̴e̢͞d̷̢ to speak, did he?”

Eighth floor. “But I’m a fool for forgetting our f́a̸͞v̵͡oŕ̡i͡t̶̶͡e̢͝ ̵̕bo͞y̛̛. He made his c̕͞h̨́͢o̡͟įc̨e͞͡. He did it t̛́o̢͢ ̶͡h͏̶͝ím̵s͢el̕͟f͏͠͞. I simply gave him the right i̢͞͝n̛͞cen͟͏̸t͝͠iv̴͠ȩ.”

Ninth floor. “Oh, doctor. It’s no f̡̢͞u̶̸n if you don’t respond. Have you given up so  e͟͞ą̧si̢̨l̴̶̨y͠? No, you just won’t give me the sa̢t̀͠is͡f̧a̡c͠t̵͝i̷̵͢on̵. But how do you know this isn’t exactly w̶hąt̸ ̧Ì́ ̶̛w̨ant̷ed̵? You, with nothing to do but have all the times you  f́ai̴ļ͡e̷͞d̷͡ yò̡u̵̢̧r̷͏͡ ̸f̴̷r̴ie̸͟n̶ḑs͠͝ rattle about your brain.”

The stairs ended at the tenth floor. The highest he could go. If Chase wasn’t on this floor, Schneep didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t feel like going back down, searching, while those words hissed in his ear. Taking a deep breath, Schneep opened the door to this floor.

It opened into a room, just like all the other floors below. But unlike the others, this room had a door, and it was ajar. Giving a quick glance to all the screens in this room, Schneep half-ran over to the door and pushed through it. There was a long hallway beyond, in equally bad repair as the rooms and the stairwell. Green string was intertwined with sparking wires. The red lightbulbs overhead were few and far between, leaving long stretches of darkness between them. There was one door all the way at the end of the hall, one on the left side, and one on the right. There were more TV monitors, sitting on the floor and mocking him with their white noise. He was really starting to get sick of that static.

The door to the left was the closest, so he decided to start there. It led to a small room, completely empty except for more screens and a set of elevator doors, which Schneep immediately walked over to. As he passed the screens, they whispered to him...worthless...useless...you almost lost Jack on Halloween...you couldn’t remove Jameson’s stitches...you lost Chase to this demon...why can’t you do anything right?...why do you always fail them?...

The elevator was empty, and there was nowhere to hide in the room. Well, that was one option down. Now to check the room on the right.

This one had less monitors, but more green string draped across every square inch of the place. And there was a table in the middle. Square, wooden. Nothing out of the ordinary. Schneep considered backing away, but when he thought about it, there could be clues on the table. Clues as to what this glitch is, and how to get rid of him. So he crept toward it.

There were six objects on the table. Five of them were dolls. Cloth dolls, with yarn for hair and fabric for simple clothes. But Schneep could tell who they were modeled after. The dolls were them. But...broken. A doll in a black hoodie had the cloth of its throat cut, with stuffing spilling out. Another in a vest and with a mustache had green stitches across the small black line that represented its mouth. One with a snapback cap had strings sewn into its wrists and neck. And one wearing a white coat had its little button eyes missing.

Schneep picked that one up, examining it further. The eyes weren’t just missing, they were ripped off, with remnants of string where the buttons would’ve been sewn. He shivered, and put it back on the table. There was still one more doll. This one was...different. It looked like someone had taken apart two other dolls, then stitched them together in a twisted way. The limbs were loosely connected to the torso, which was bleeding stuffing. The little head had a tear right down the middle of its face. And the doll was wearing a cape, a hood, and two masks: blue and white.

“Mein Gott,” Schneep muttered. He was tempted to pick up the broken doll, but it looked like it could fall apart at any moment. And maybe that would have consequences for the two who the doll represented. Because there was no doubt about who that was. What was Anti doing to Jackie and Marvin? He almost didn’t want to think about it. Schneep forced himself to look away from the dolls and toward the last item on the table.

He recognized it. Chase’s gun. How it got here, he didn’t know. But it was loaded. Schneep hesitated, then picked it up. It was heavier than he expected. He had no idea how to use it, other than the general “point and shoot” method, and maybe it wouldn’t even work on Anti, but it made him feel safer.

The last room was at the end of the hall. Schneep had to be honest with himself; he was afraid to check it. But he had to. If Chase was there, if he could...Schneep steeled himself and started walking forward. Every step brought new static from the TV monitors, hiding words inside...You could have talked them out of this...you could have tried harder...you could have spent more time with them...none of this would have happened if you weren’t such a failure...if you weren’t so hopeless...you could have stopped this but you didn’t...

The room at the end of the hall was empty. There were no lights overhead, no strings anywhere. The room was so large and dark that Schneep couldn’t even see the walls. Piles of old TVs were scattered around, their endless static giving off a white glow. “Chase?” Schneep called. His voice echoed.

Of course there wouldn’t be an answer. Schneep clutched Chase’s gun tighter, and started his search. The TV piles weren’t ordered, just stacked at random. But he could remember where he’d been, couldn’t he? Or maybe he could find one of the walls, and walk around the edge of the room. He had to do something.

What was there to do?...did he really think he could do anything good?...he was a failure, an idiot...he couldn’t save his friends...he would do better to just give up...

“Stop!” Schneep shouted. He firmly planted his feet on the ground, not walking anymore. “I know it is you doing that! I know it! And you are doing no good, so stop!”

It was silent except for the static. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shadow of a figure run past in the white glow of the screen. He spun toward it, instinctively raising Chase’s gun, but he lost it. Laughter echoed through the room. “If you’re so ç͢͝onc̶͝e̶rne͟͟d͞ about my whispers, that means they’re doing their  jo̸b͟͢͞, and they’re doing it w͟͟ę͡l̡͡l.”

“I—I am not concerned!” Schneep’s eyes darted about. “It is just very annoying, having to listen to them for this long.”

“L̀i̕͟a͞r,̸́” Anti hissed. “You’re in d̴e̢ńi̵al͟, Henrik. Denial of t̶h͏̢̧e͠ ́t̸ŕ̢ut̶̛h̸̛.”

Another shadowy figure darted past, almost too fast for Schneep to catch. “You do not call me that!” Schneep yelled. “That is for my friends to call me, not—not monsters!”

“How do you know they’re not o̴n̴e̢̕̕ ͡án̢̨d̕ ̨͏th͞͠e ś͢͟a̶͏m̧e?” Anti asked.

“Shut up! Shut up!” He spun around, watching the figure rush past him yet again. “I will not have such fucking slander to my friends!”

Anti laughed. “Are they your friends if you’ve tą̧k͝é͢n more from them than g̡iv̸e͢n̷ to them in turn? Are they your f̶̢rí̵̡e͟n͢d̛͡s if you’ve never helped them o̕͞n̡c̸͠͝e in the moment it matters? Are they y͡͠ơú͠r̶̨͠ ̴f͞͏r̡i͢͝en̡d̸s̶ if you d̀i̸̵d͟ǹ͏͢'̴t̨ ̵͞s̕a̶v̧e̶͢ ̷̨͡t̨͟ḩ̕e͢m?”

“You know nothing about this.” Schneep glared into the darkness. He’d find him, he would.

“Avoiding the qù͠è͠͡s̵̶tio͟͞n I see! Are you t̵ò̶͞o̸ af̸̨ra͡i͟d̸̛̛  to answer? T́͠o͟͠o͞͡ ̶̢́á͏f͏̷̵r̸̀ai͏͢d̴̢, because you know the answer... i̡͞s̸ n̴̨̛ơ̵?”

“You know nothing!” Schneep repeated, screaming. The figure ran past him, and again, and again, while Anti laughed.

“W͏̕͏e̡͟aķ̵̴!̵” he shouted. “W͢o̷̵̸r͞ţ͢h͏l̵̢e̵̵s̨s!̷ Fa̷i̛͏l̶҉ure̛͞!̨͢ You͡'҉ve ne̸ve̵r̛ h̶elpe͝d an̢yǫnȩ aņd̕ y̧ou̧ ̵ n͏̜͎̹e̹̕v̵͖̼̳e̯r̰̥͡ ̡̰̼͓̟͔ẁ̯̙̼ͅi̜̘̲̞̪͇̤l̗͇̟̯l̪̭̮!”

“Get away from me!” Schneep screamed.

Something moved in the corner of his eye. Quickly, Schneep spun around, raised Chase’s gun, and fired. The kickback made him stumble, and he instinctively closed his eyes as the loud bang from the gun drowned out everything else in the room, leaving a ringing in his ears.

Even the static seemed reduced. Schneep opened his eyes and looked at a body sprawled on the ground. Had he done it? Schneep edged forward, staring down at the body.

It started slowly, then built up. A mad laughter, crackling with white noise. “Y͏̶҉̭̟͉̳̪͖o̻͡u̷̢̯̜͔͖͓̦̕ ̩̦̝͕͖̻͞m̨̖͕͔̖̳̕į̝̘͝ͅs̘͖̙̗̰͞ṣ͍é̡҉̗̯͎̰d͓͖͔͢!̱͍̞͍̥͉ͅ”

The light from the TV screens intensified, allowing for better sight. Schneep gasped. “Chase!” he shouted. “No no no no no!”

He threw the gun to the side, then scrambled forward, kneeling by Chase’s side. The bullet had hit him in the chest, and he was losing a lot of blood. Schneep tried to remember what could have been hit...what he could have...

“Chase please answer me!” Schneep shook his friend’s shoulders. There was no reaction, but now Schneep’s training was kicking in. He pressed two fingers to Chase’s wrist, checking for a pulse beneath the stitching. He found nothing. He repeated the process with Chase’s neck, but still nothing. “Chase no you can’t be—!”

Chase’s eyes were still clouded with static, still dull and lifeless. Schneep could feel tears running down his face. “Please, I did not mean—I did not mean—I am sorry, I did not—! Chase, please!”

Schneep felt a hand on his shoulder, but he barely registered it through the panic and the shocked grief. “It doesn’t matter w̕h͠a̵t͠ ̴͠y̡͡où͝ ̴͟m̸̨e̵͞an̸̨͡t̵̵,” a voice said. “What matters is w̴h̕a͠t ̡̨y̸o̡͡u ̴d̵̕id. And what did you do, He̷n̵̷͢ŕì̴̛k̸?”

Someone was pulling him away from Chase. He tried to stay with him, he had to, he had to let him know he was sorry, but he was being pulled away. He fought against it, clawing at the ground, legs flailing, but it was not use. He was being taken away, Chase was being taken away, he was sorry, it was his fault, he never does anything right, he was sorry Chase, Chase please wake up, please be fine, please—

A hand grabbed his head and pushed it back, pushed it until the back of his head hit something hard. A warm, prickling sensation started to fill his mind, pulling him down...down...down...and the last thing he saw before the static blocked his vision was Chase’s body...his fault...

Anti watched as the static from the TV crossed through the screen, latching onto the doctor’s head. Schneep slowly stopped struggling, and his eyes filled up with white noise. Not like Chase’s had, where it was a film that you could still see the eyes through. No, they were completely blocked out by static, which then spilled down his cheeks in trails of tears. In the white noise given off by the television, you could hear a voice, crying and shrieking. “ ̵́ ̡ ͢͢ ̸̨ ͞ ̸͟ ̛͞ ̧͝ ̸̴ ̴̷̕ ̵ ̸͟ ͟  ̴ ̷̢̀ ̷͢͡ ́ ̧ ̶̸̡ ̶ ̨ ͢ ̛̕ ̶͞ ̵ ͞ ͏ ̶̡ ͟͝ ̷ ͟ ͡ ͏͠ ̡̧ ͏̴̵ ̸.”

Anti smiled. Perfect. “You can ̵g͏̧et ̴̶͡ųp̀ now,” he said.

The body stirred. Chase sat up, acting perfectly fine despite the bullet lodged in his chest. Anti eyed the bleeding wound. Maybe he should fix that soon. Wouldn’t want his dear friend to bleed to death. But he could handle it a bit longer. “Didn’t I t̢e̕͢l̸̛l y̛o͡u͏̷ the bullet wouldn’t h̢́u̵͝r͏̀t you?” Anti asked, smirking. “And I was r̵̶͢i̴̡̧gh͢͠t̴̨. This is why you t̀r͏͡u͟s̡̨t̶̸̴ ̢m̨̧e͠͏.”

Chase nodded. “Y̡e͢s͢.͞ ̡Ì d͏ơn'̧t̡ kn̨ow why I̕ ̴dòubted y̕o͢u. I'm͝ ̡so͢r͡r̕y.”

“You’ve realized your m̛iş́͡tak̛̕e, so I’ll á̢c͞c̡̕͡e̷p̶t̵͡ ͢͠yo͟͞ù̢r ̧a̢͝p̨o͝lo̢g̷̛y̛͞.͟” Anti stood up, then reached down and pulled Chase up as well. He held him tight by the wrist, enjoying the texture of stitches on skin. “Now...we have to drop it off, d̢on͟'̷t̛͡ w̡͡e̵͢͝?͝”

Chase looked down at the empty body. “Y̵e͠s͝.̵” Then a look of confusion managed to make its way onto his expression. “B͏ut..̀.̵w̡hy̶ di̴dn̡'̀t ̢w̶e͏ ju͞s̡t.͏.̀.͡”

“Why isn’t he l̸̴͞i̡k̀e̷͡ ̡yo͏̢͝u̸?” Anti leaned closer to Chase, keeping one hand around his wrist and wrapping the other around his neck. Chase showed no reaction. “It͏̶'ş͞ ̵s̷i̕͠mp̨ļ͞e̶,̶̡͟ Chase. He wouldn’t ļe̵̸t̶ ̸̴m̡e̵. You heard how a̸͞͡ng̢̀r̷̕͝y̵̨ he was. He would have rather b̵̨r̷̡o̵k̶̨e̢̕ń than seen the light. So, we had to ǵe͞t͢͞ ̵r͡į̵d ̶̸o̶f̀͟ ̵͠hi͞m̡͞, understand?”

I͠ u͡nde͠rst̡a̢nd,” Chase repeated. “W͢hat̛ ḩaṕpène̴d͞?”

Anti walked toward Schneep’s body, kneeling beside it once more. “Don’t worry, he’s still a̢l͠i̶ve. You can check for a heartbeat if you want. I’ve just separated his  ş̶̴ou̶̷l͠ from his b̵͠͠o̸̧̨d̷̢̀y̶̢. For all intents and purposes, this is a coma.” 

Anti paused, letting the static fill the air. And with it, the voice trapped inside:  “ ̵́ ̡ ͢͢ ̸̨ ͞ ̸͟ ̛͞ ̧͝ ̸̴? ̴̷̕ ̵ ̸͟ ͟  ̴ ̷̢̀ ̷͢͡ ́ ̧ ̶̸̡ ̶ ̨ ͢ ̛̕ ̶͞ ̵ ͞ ͏ ̶̡! ͟͝ ̷ ͟ ͡ ͏͠ ̡̧ ͏̴̵ ̸!”

He smiled. “S͠ẁ̶ee̷t̶̨͢ d̛̕re̛a̵͡m̢͢s͠͝͏, ́He̛͝ń͝͡r͏i̴̸k̶̢͠,” he whispered, though he knew they would be anything but.

“Look, it’s probably fine, he just...” Jack trailed off. “Okay, no, you’re right, it’s bad.”

JJ nodded firmly, adjusting his mask. It was a recent acquisition, one of those fashionable surgical masks you can order online. This one was blue with a black mustache on it. Jack had gotten it for him, so he could go out without having to show off the stitching.

Jack reread the text Schneep had sent him once again. “Maybe I would’ve done the same thing,” he muttered. “I don’t know. But I think he should’ve at least waited for my reply. When did he get so...impulsive?”

They’d looked everywhere for him. Or at least, everywhere around the hospital. He couldn’t have gotten far. Now, it was four a.m., and they hadn’t seen any sign of Schneep at all. JJ insisted they head back to Jack’s apartment, presumably to get some sleep and continue in the morning. It was hard to tell, as Jack and JJ were still only beginning to learn sign language so most of the time they had to resort to vague gestures.

When they finally got back to Jack’s apartment, it was eerily quiet. Jack noticed. “My neighbors in this apartment usually have their TV on all the time,” he explained to JJ. “No break. I once woke up at five and still heard it. Why stop now?”

JJ didn’t even try to say anything, just grabbed Jack’s forearm nervously.

“And here we are, home sweet home.” Jack stopped in front of his apartment door and fished out the keys. It unlocked with a click. The two of them entered the apartment, shut the door behind them, and then Jack reached over and flipped on the lights.

Schneep was sitting in one of the chairs.

Jack jumped. JJ ducked behind him. “Dude, it’s fine, Schneep is just...back.”

JJ shook his head vigorously. He clearly thought something was up.

“Okay, fine, look, we’ll...talk to him.” Jack cautiously approached. He was having flashbacks to May, and what happened with Chase. But he had to know. “Schneep? Doc?” Jack reached out and touched his shoulder. There was no response, so Jack walked around to get a look at his face...and gasped upon seeing the empty eyes of static and tears.

“What the fuck?” Jack said gently. “JJ? You want to look at this?” JJ, pressed firmly against the wall, shook his head. “I think it’s fine. It’s, like, a different thing. His eyes are...and I don’t see any stitches...” JJ took a couple tentative steps, and when nothing happened he walked right over, though he kept his distance.

“He’s breathing, but he’s not...there...” Jack waved his hand in front of Schneep’s eyes. He shook his shoulders. He punched him lightly in the chest. Nothing. Jack swallowed. “I don’t know if this is worse.”

JJ sat on the sofa, then reached over and grabbed a pen and pad of paper from a nearby end table. He scribbled down, Do you think we should wait? To see if something happens?

“Yeah...yeah, good idea.” Jack sat down next to him.

An hour passed. More. The sun began to rise. Nothing. JJ seemed keen to watch for a while longer, or perhaps he was just too scared to take his eyes away. Jack was...tired. Not just physically from staying up all night, but...mentally. Was being okay just, not a thing that could happen anymore? Was there any way to stop this all? Anti wouldn’t stop by himself. Not until everyone was hurt, everyone was suffering.

And Jack made a decision. His friends wouldn’t be victims anymore. They wouldn’t be in pain anymore. He refused to let it happen. He refused to let Anti win.

He’d do anything for them.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #dr schneeplestein #chase brody #antisepticeye #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #brigid writes fanfiction #stitched anti #stitchedstories

[hwarangbangbang]

youngjae » monopoly

i got the idea of doing this from reading a bed sharing AU i found on Tumblr, you can find it here. i take no credit for these prompts or gifs, however i do take credit for writing these stories.

mark | jaebum | jinyoung | jackson | youngjae | bambam | yugyeom title - monopoly prompt - “you’re staying over, take my bed, i’ll sleep on the couch, yes i am yes i am yes i am yes i am no you’re not yes i am FINE WE’LL BOTH TAKE THE BED, happy!?!” pairing - choi youngjae/fem!reader tags -  boardgames, cuddles, this is a real soft au guys, for a real soft guy, snuggling, running fingers through hair, DID I MENTION SOFT? word count - 1206 words author’s note - IM BACK BITCHES WHATS GOOD HOPE YOU’VE BEEN WELL

“No! I got to pass GO, give my my 200 dollars!“

“But you already own more than three quarters of the board (Y/N)!“

“Sucks to be you then, gimme my money!“

This was how the majority of your night had been going with your best friend, Youngjae, who you were spending some free time with since his tour had ended and he had a break before his next comeback. This would be the fifth board game you’d conquered him in, and the poor bun was starting to get agitated with losing so much.

You and Youngjae had been friends for at least three years, having met when you entered the company as a makeup artist, and you two just grew closer as the years passed. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him, but you couldn’t ever tell him that. That could be putting your career and your state of mind on the line. You’d rather be just like all the other fans, and admire from afar. 

Which was why you were doing just as any other normal friend would do. Kick his ass at his apartment in Monopoly.

Youngjae groaned, throwing down the game piece to the board as he begrudgingly passed you 200 dollars of monopoly money, and you cackled as you added it to your growing pile of multicolored game currency. 

“Don’t pout, Jae, it’s not that big a deal.” You told him, beginning to organize the monopoly money by the amount and color as you put it away. “It’s getting late, I should make my way home if I’m going to get enough sleep before work tomorrow. JYP wants all the stylists in an hour earlier for a meeting.” You told him with a roll of your eyes.

It was like the Gods saw this opportunity to be a big pain in your ass, and you could hear the pitter patter of rain on the rooftop. You furrowed your brows, getting up and walking over to the window, opening the blinds to see it was in fact raining. And you didn’t have a vehicle.

“Ugh... you’ve got to be kidding me!” You groaned in annoyance, rubbing your temples and Youngjae came to stand beside you, observing the droplets falling from the sky and sliding down his window.

Youngjae rubbed your bare arms, the exterior skin cold from the A/C and he chuckled. “(Y/N), you can stay over tonight. You can’t go out in that bad of a storm.” 

This was. A new piece of territory that you didn’t know how to react to.

What if someone found out that you’d stayed over? Like his manager? Or your stylist unnies? They’d never let you live it down. JYP would more than likely fire you for getting involved with an idol. Youngjae was extremely off limits, you knew this well, especially dating. You could be friends, but so much speculation could come from people finding out you’d had a slumber party with the Sunshine Otter of GOT7.

“I don’t know Jae...” You mumbled, moving away from his all too desirable touch as you began to pace the floor, thinking things over. 

“Well with how heavy it’s pouring outside, it doesn’t look like you have much of a choice but to stay.“ Youngjae pointed out, gesturing to the now heavier rain.

He did have a point.

You didn’t have much of a choice now.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded, running a hand through your hair as you went to go sit back down. This time on the couch. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, it was actually a lot better than your couch was. Long enough for you to lay down all the way comfortably on. It was a little thin, but you would be able to manage. 

Youngjae looked at you confused, furrowing his brows in a way that made your throat go dry with worry. “What?“

“What are you doing?“ He asked, crossing his arms with a tilt of his head.

Is it bad you found that hot?

But is it really?

“I’m sitting down? Getting ready to lay down for bed?“ You responded as you laid back on the somewhat comfy dark brown leather couch.

“No no no no no!“ You were taken by the arm and moved back up to your feet and you looked at Youngjae like he had ten heads. What had gotten into him?

“(Y/N). You’re staying over, take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

You were taken aback. “You most certainly will not, Choi Youngjae!”

“Yes I am.”

“No you are not!” 

“Yes i am!” 

“You’re not sleeping on the couch in your own home when you have a perfectly good working bed for you!”

“Yes!” 

“I’m sleeping on the couch!”

“No you’re not, (Y/N).”   

“Yes i am.” 

“FINE WE’LL BOTH TAKE THE BED, happy!?”

Well.... that wasn’t exactly a response you were expecting. You felt your cheeks heat up as you excused yourself to the bathroom to calm down. You splashed some cold water on your face to calm yourself down and you looked at yourself in the mirror.

What had gotten into him? Why was he so insistent? You’d slept on the couch at the dorms... why was this any different?

After maybe about five minutes of collecting yourself, you opened the door and trudged down the hallway to Youngjae’s bedroom. It was just for one night, you could control your feelings and your urges for one night. 

Or so you’d thought. 

Youngjae was already sitting on his bed, his lower half under the covers as he sat, playing on his phone, his toned arms showing off with him having changed into a loose tank top. As you walked into the bedroom, his eyes lifted from his phone to your face, and he grinned sheepishly, patting the bed beside him.

You took a deep breath, you could do this. 

You walked over and settled into bed, laying as far away from Youngjae as possible. He took notice of this, and rested his head on his hand as he looked over at you.

“Aish, for God’s sake, (Y/N), I’m not going to bite you.“

That was all that was said before he had curled an arm around your waist, pulling you away from the safety of the edge of the bed and into his warm and inviting embrace. You and Youngjae had hugged before... but this was different. It felt different.

You felt after a moment, his fingers carding through your hair, lightly scraping your scalp and it was the most relaxing feeling in the world. Just as you began to drift off to sleep, Youngjae’s voice kept you just on the brim.

“(Y/N)?“ You answered with a muffled grunt, to which Youngjae snorted softly.

“I know about the crush. The one you have on me.“

If it weren’t for Youngjae’s grip on your torso, anchoring you to him, you would’ve gotten up and bolted home in the rain -- now wide awake. He could sense your tenseness and smirked.

“And you don’t feel the same...?“ You asked, preparing for the rejection.

“If I didn’t feel the same, (Y/N),” he began, “I wouldn’t have let you beat me five times in Monopoly.“

general masterlist

#choi youngjae #got7 youngjae #got7 choi youngjae #got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 bed au's #got7 reactions #got7 au's #got7 drabbles

[zalrb]

Chaos {Pt. 10 BK Regency Fic}

Hi all! I know it’s been a while but I’ve finally managed to update this series, as the title suggests, this is when everything explodes, implodes, and chaos ensues. So hopefully, it isn’t too predictable and you enjoy it! I do not do historical accuracy, in fact absolutely nothing is historically correct so people keep that in mind when you inbox me questions, haha.

The first part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/151942784000/the-gambit-bk-regency-pt-1

The second part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/152178534030/the-moon-bk-regency-fic-pt-2

The third part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/152739097855/winded-bk-regency-fic-pt-3

The fourth part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/153795180910/tonight-bk-regency-fic-pt-4

The fifth part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/154224617970/ensnared-bk-regency-fic-pt-5

The sixth part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/154476548055/mad-bk-regency-fic-pt-6

The seventh part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/156132665615/paranoia-bk-regency-fic-pt-7

The eighth part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/157247433010/possession-bk-regency-fic-pt-8

The ninth part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/157618803690/cursed-pt-9-bk-regency-fic

People to tag: @misslilmel @kissmebluesexyvioletsme @humbu-bumbu @youareatypo @bonkai-diaries @darkbonkai @malachaibennett @bonkaimonluv @bonkai-is-life  @bonkais-aurora-borealis @tasha-sews @jordanjanellejoy @l0nd0ninnit @tvtaughtmehowtofeel @bonkaicoven @mysticfalls-originals @sunnydrive92 @seeydaaa @writeturnlove @offlinebonkai @ecksnohhs @lisaluvslife

It was past midnight and yet Malachai lay awake in bed; it seemed like he’d laid awake in this bed for a thousand nights, but sleep was an impossibility. He would not be able to rest, not with her in bed next to him.  Bonnie slept on her side, her hand beneath her swollen belly. Her body was curved into a sensuous S that Malachai yearned to press his front against with such a ripe intensity that everything in his body throbbed and screamed.

But he couldn’t touch her.

He hadn’t touched her since she announced her pregnancy. She forbade it, for the baby’s sake. Malachai cursed such a limitation, it killed him as much as it enraged him to be deprived of the feel of her, but he understood why she did it. Sex could be dangerous for the child, they both knew that, but once he and Bonnie touched, their common sense evaded the both of them, nothing else mattered in the world, nothing else existed, except for that touch, except for them and what would happen between them and the body-breaking pleasure that overcame them when they came together. It was all they could think about it. So he’d respected her ban, and yet couldn’t help but deeply resent her for it. Before, when she’d refused to take him to her bed until they married, what agitated Malachai was the anticipation, the fantasy, the idea of them together. But now that he knew what it felt like, now that he’d been swallowed whole by her, the deprivation was unbearable and took a physical toll unlike before; he was parched and ablaze, constantly uncomfortable, his own skin felt like a prison.

Every time he saw Bonnie, his desire for her steamrolled his body and more times than he could count, the urge had caused him to leap to his feet and walk purposefully toward her only for his intellect to make an appearance at the last minute so that he stopped short of grabbing her by the wrist and guiding her to the nearest private place, and bowed to her instead, intoning, “My Queen.”

When he looked up at her upon rising from his bow, he could see in her eye that she knew exactly what he’d been close to doing, he could see in the movements of her lips that she was desperate for him to do it, that she’d had her own ideas of what to do in that nearest private place and she was as inflamed as he was, and that realization made him harden to the point of dizziness that he’d flee whatever room they were in to rectify the issue to the best of his ability.

Sleeping next to her was torture and yet sleeping alone was not an option. He wouldn’t be blessed with rest in either situation but at least with her next to him he wouldn’t be frenzied with worry for the safety of his son or crazed with paranoia that she entertained male suitors in her chambers. It had been a suspicion that taunted him lately, a suspicion that arose and overcame him each time he thought he saw, no, each time he did see, a male suitor glance at her. In a way, he couldn’t blame them, the Queen Bonnie was undeniable, a force that pulled every eye toward her, a splendour unlike the simple beauty of her sister. She was arresting. She’d consumed him utterly from the moment he laid eyes on her and so he knew all too well, the lengths men would go to for her — he understood that there may be one suitor out of the many who would dare to challenge Him, even kill Him, Him, their King, their Lord, for her. The possibility had driven Malachai to arrest various courtiers, men who’s gaze lingered on Bonnie a little too long, men who didn’t bow immediately upon her entrance into a room. He’d considered banishing all men from court but was talked down.

Bonnie moved in her sleep, her behind grazing Malachai’s groin and the friction nearly made him lose himself in an instant. He blasphemed. How he wanted to slip behind her and allow himself the release he’d been denied for half a year. Just once. But he knew. It was never just once. It was never enough. He not only wanted to bury himself in her, he wanted to consume her, possess her utterly, the way she possessed him, it was always like that whenever they made love and for that reason, he always wanted more of her, more of her to take into himself. It was dangerous.

For the child. For the child.

               Malachai unfastened his bottoms and began the futile effort of rubbing out his desire.

                                                ______________

Bonnie heard it. His fast, shallow breath as he tended to himself, felt the movement of the sheet as his hand jerked and her gut tightened with an ache she could only slightly suppress by pressing her thighs together. It aroused her, knowing that even in this condition, he wanted her beyond reason and she’d silently prayed, no begged, that he’d touch her, press himself against her, so this burning that had engulfed her would finally extinguish. But she was glad he didn’t. If he did, what inflamed her would only die down for an instant and then erupt tenfold, voracious and gluttonous, and demanding for more. When they’d been newly married, they hadn’t left their bed chamber for a fortnight, if he touched her now, she didn’t know when the kingdom would see either of them again.  

               She pressed her palm against her belly. Her son was kicking. It was because her heart was beating so fast. She smiled slightly. He made it all worth it. Everything she did.

               I remember when I was with Mary. The way her little feet

Caroline.

Bonnie gritted her teeth as she looked up to the window. Nothing was there. Nothing was really there. She knew that. And yet she saw her. Caroline, pale as ever, standing in a white gown, her face turned down at Bonnie in wintry disdain.

Have you seen her? Mary. Have you looked in on her? Do you have any human decency?

Bonnie closed her eyes. Ever since Caroline passed away, she’d seen her everywhere. In the corridors, in her bedchambers, when she was with His Majesty. She heard Caroline too, her voice reverberated throughout her head, hissing doubts and misgivings that wormed through Bonnie’s skull and slithered toward her heart so that she was mad with insecurity.

You are not the real Queen. You will never be the real Queen. You will never be His Majesty’s true love.

On more than one occasion Bonnie had screamed out loud, for the voices to stop, to be left alone. It was highly fortunate that each time she’d been alone. Or with Damon.

But Bonnie knew it was all a lie. She was the sole owner of His Majesty’s heart, the sole object of his affection, of his desire. He’d imprisoned and killed for her — all necessary. These victims were deserving of their punishment. Treacherous and slanderous and spiteful — all subjects who wished to turn Malachai against her, that was what enraged Bonnie the most, that they were so keen on poisoning what she and him had.

He will discover who you are. The lying. The scheming… He will denounce you … like he did me…

“Be silent,” Bonnie whispered. “Be silent…”

She knew Caroline had had no claim on him. Never did. And so her ghost had settled for Bonnie.    

                                                  _______________

Bonnie strode through the corridor, her ladies in waiting walking behind her. The female courtiers curtsied as she passed but the men bowed as low as they could and they wouldn’t stand up straight until she left the hall all together. They feared for their freedom, for their lives in case the King deemed a stare too lecherous, a tone too knowing. No man wanted to be the example, their corpse to be the proof that the Queen belonged to no one but herself and her husband. Of course, Bonnie could feel their awareness of her, their interest. Her dress was a gown of crimson satin dotted with gold fabric, even with her swollen belly, the bodice complemented her frame and tempted every gaze toward her even though no man dared look.

            All of them know…

            Bonnie kept her face impassive but picked up her pace so the ladies behind her nearly jogged to keep in tow.

            They all know you had me poisoned. They all know you’re a fraud.

            Caroline was walking alongside her, leaning over to whisper into Bonnie’s ears, her words crowding Bonnie’s head.

            Bonnie started to scream inwardly. Leave. Me. Alone.

            They will expose you. Expose you for who you truly are.

            Bonnie continued to quicken her pace, trying to outwalk the ghost next to her.

            Begone, spirit!

            And he will abandon you once they do.

            “BEGONE!” Bonnie screamed and then clutched her head, sinking onto the floor. There was a rustle of movement and scandalized gasps as her ladies rushed to her.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty are you all right?”             “Should we call the physician?”

“Your Majesty, where does it hurt?”

“Out of my way, you foolish girls! Out of my way!”

Damon pushed his way through the group of ladies and descended on Bonnie, grabbing her by the shoulders and standing her up. He took Bonnie by the arm, ignoring the scandalized expressions of some of the courtiers and the bewildered looks of others. He led Bonnie into an empty room, slamming the door behind him. She walked into the middle of the room and sank into a chair by a round table.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he said sharply. “Has something happened to the baby?”

            “No,” said Bonnie, putting a reflexive hand on her belly. “It’s her.”

            “Her?”

            “Caroline.”

            Damon swore. “For the love of God, she’s dead, Bonnie!”

            “And now she haunts me! I wanted her gone from this world to make things easier but now her spirit has clung to me.”

           Bonnie put her hands on the armrest so she could lift herself up to her feet. She began pacing in circles, shaking her head, rubbing her temples.

“She will not let me rest, she will not give me any peace. What if she tries to harm my son?”

            Damon furrowed his eyebrows, staring incredulously at her. “Pull yourself together!”

           “What if he takes other women to bed?” she said suddenly. “What if he has forgotten what is when he and I are together, it’s been so long since we’ve indulged in each other.”

           “That’s absurd, the King is quite literally madly in love with you,” spat Damon. “How many people must he kill for you to get ahold of yourself?”

            “She told me,” said Bonnie, looking at Damon with frenzied eyes. “She told me he’d find out who I truly am and he’d abandon me!”

            “You’re blabbering nonsense!”

            “He can’t,” said Bonnie as if she hadn’t heard Damon. “He can’t abandon me, not after what I’ve become because of him.”

            “Yes!” Damon yelled.

           Bonnie looked at him sharply.

“What you’ve become,” he continued. “What happened to the woman you were before, the woman of poise and conviction, the calculating woman with a formidable air?”

            “You destroyed her!” Bonnie yelled. “You and Papa, you put me in the King’s way and now---”

            “And now you’re consumed by him! Utterly!”

            “YES,” said Bonnie.

Damon picked up a vase and threw it across the room. Bonnie glared at him.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR SENSES?” she screamed.

Damon hissed furiously. “You were not supposed to fall in love with him! That was not the plan!”

“Plans change!”

“Is that what this is? A new plan? If so, dear cousin, please enlighten me in what you acting like a blubbering idiot is meant to accomplish!”

Bonnie pushed Damon so that he staggered backward. “What more do you want from me? I got rid of Caroline, I got Lockwood imprisoned, I became Queen and I am now with child! You dare to find fault with me because I have the audacity to be susceptible to love like any other human of this world?”  

 “You were supposed to be better than any other human of this world! You were supposed to use him! You were supposed to stay removed!”

            “This isn’t something that I can control! Do you think I enjoy how much the King overwhelms me? Do you think I enjoy the anxiety I suffer when he’s away from me for too long, do you think I enjoy the burning? The never-ending, constant burning for him? I AM GOING MAD.”

            “And I’m going mad watching you!” said Damon. “I can’t stand it! The way you two are delirious with one another, wrapped up in each other, even with a gaze, it’s enough to turn the stomach! Curse Lorenzo for wishing this upon you. Curse you for falling victim to Him!”

            Bonnie stared at Damon, alarmed and furious. “That’s what this is about,” she said. “You aren’t upset that I fell in love, you’re upset that the King is the object of my affection.”

           Damon furled his upper lip but said nothing in response.

“I never loved you,” she said harshly.

            “No, you despised me,” said Damon. “But you felt more toward me than any other man who crossed your path. Lorenzo only inspired vague amusement in you. Your other suitors inspired nothing but I, I inspired something in you and now---” He shook his head, gritting his teeth. “I hate you. I hate that you did this to me!”

            “How you feel is not my concern.”

            “Neither is how you feel,” snapped Damon. “So shut up about Caroline. You made a choice and now you must deal with the consequences and you must deal with them calmly, you must deal with your jealousies and your neediness and your paranoia calmly or else---” He walked up to her and placed his hand on her belly. “--- Your frenzies are going to harm the baby and if you lose this child, I swear to you, not only will your Precious Malachai surely abandon you but so will Elena, so will your father. So will I.” 

            There was a sudden bang and Bonnie and Damon turned sharply toward the door. When they saw Malachai standing outside of it, Damon removed his hand and made a low bow.

                                          ____________________

At first Malachai thought he was blinded by red. He was told Damon had taken Bonnie to a private room --- that alone had made him ball his hands into fists yearning to hit and pummel and crush. When he’d reached the room and saw the door was closed, his entire body seemed to vibrate with rage. But when he entered the room … when he entered the room and saw Damon’s hand upon Bonnie’s belly, that rage had become murderous, Malachai wanted to set everything around him on fire.  

           “Your Majesty,” said Damon.

           Malachai’s eyes narrowed. He knew Damon didn’t think he could hear that hatred, that disgust, that bitterness in his tone, the resentment that Malachai had taken Bonnie away from him.

“Out,” said Malachai quietly. “I would like a word with my Queen.”

“Majesty.” Damon scurried out of the room, his body hunched over, and closed the door as he left.

Bonnie stared at Malacahi, her chest heaving, her head swimming. She was tittering on the edge, on the verge of descending into a vortex of complete chaos and the way Malachai looked at her, that fury, that possessiveness --- an argument would be enough to push her off.

            He glanced at the shattered glass on the floor. “He threw this?”

“He was upset.”

“Why?” said Malachai. “What would make him that upset? What right does he have to be this upset by you that he would do this?”

“He was simply distraught that I’d fainted,” said Bonnie.

“So he took you here?” said Malachai. “Behind closed doors?”

“Just what are you implying?”

“I have long told you that your cousin is too familiar with you!”

“We are family!”

“Family does not look at each other the way he looks at you! The way he watches you. He tracks you.”

“He’s overprotective.”

“HE IS OUT OF LINE,” said Malachai. “As are you!”

            Bonnie snapped her head toward him. “What on earth are you talking about?”

            “I haven’t been able to touch you, properly touch you, in two hundred and twelve days! I feel every second of that deprivation, Bonnie, I’m in constant agitation, I am deranged with want for you and you let him, you let him ---” 

           “It’s nothing!” Bonnie yelled. “It meant nothing!”

           “You think it means nothing that a lowly lord was able to enjoy something the King has been prohibited to enjoy despite it being my right?”

           “That is not what I meant!”

           “It’s what you said!”

           Bonnie glared at him. She felt it, felt the slip, felt the fall into chaos. “Why are you so keen to catch me in a lie?” she said. “Are you looking for an excuse, a way to abandon me?”

           “I am the King, I do not need to find an excuse to abandon you!”

           She screamed and upended the table, the thud reverberating in the room.

           Malachai roared.  “BONNIE, THE BABY.”

           “You just admitted that you will abandon me! I will not let you do it!”

           Caroline’s voice. He was never truly yours…

           “If I were to abandon you, I would have done it before we wed!”

You were simply game to him …            “Who is she?” said Bonnie.

           Malachai gesticulated wildly. “Who? WHO IS WHO?”

           “The lady in waiting you are pursuing this time!” she yelled.

           You cannot truly believe he would abstain for you again…

“That is your pleasure, is it not?” she yelled. “To cavort with the ladies in your wife’s service? A fetish of yours perhaps? WHO IS IT?”

           “Bonnie ---”

           “Is it Margaret? Hmm? I’ve seen the way you look at her---”

           “Bonnie---”

“Those lecherous eyes, those---”            “I WISH!” Malachai yelled. “I wish I could bury myself in her, enjoy myself with her, with any woman who isn’t you, I wish I could expel my desire and forget you, forget my passion for you for even a moment, BUT I CAN’T. IT MUST BE YOU. ALWAYS. I am cursed with you! And then to see you, to see you with him, see him touch you, touch the belly carrying my son? I swear I could kill you!”

           Bonnie slapped him so his head whipped to the side. The sting on her palm enlivened her body. The vortex had led her past hysteria, past rage to a desire that seized every part of her, she wanted to damn him even more, refresh that curse, bind him to her, swallow him whole. Malachai seized her by the arms, his eyes wide with a furious passion, his skin flushed red, his jaw tightened. He wanted her something terrible, she could see it, feel it, but she remembered their bargain, their child.

This was why they couldn’t touch.

“We can’t,” said Bonnie. “We can’t.”

Malachai shook his head and thrust his lips onto her, knotting his fingers in her hair, his mouth possessive, her response furious and wanting, her heart pounding, her lips raw, her skin hot. Abruptly, she pushed him away.

“Something is wrong!” she said, sinking onto the floor, holding her belly. “Something is wrong!”

           Malachai rushed to the door and wrenched it open. “Call the physician!”

           “Majesty,” said a servant.

           “If he does not arrive within the next three minutes, if something should happen to the Queen while she waits for him, both you and his life shall be forfeit, you understand?”

           “Majesty.” The servant bowed and then ran down the hall.

                                       ___________________

The screaming lasted for hours. Malachai could hear it even from his chambers. Ear-splitting, gut-wrenching screams that twisted his heart and drew tears from his eyes. The sun had been up when Bonnie was taken to her bed to give birth and now it was well past late night. Malachai had refused all food, all company, he only brooded in the horror of Bonnie’s screams.

           There was a hesitant knock on the door. “Your Majesty…”

           “Enter,” he whispered.

           After a beat, the physician shuffled into the room, his head bowed.

           “What is it?” said Malachai. “I still hear her screaming.” His voice turned sharp. “Who is with my wife?”

           “Three of my colleagues,” said the physician quickly.

           “What news do you have for me?” said Malachai wearily.

           “Your Majesty, we have reached a critical point.”

           “What does that mean?”

           The physician pressed his lips together. “I’m afraid, you must decide between the life of your child or the life of the Queen.”

           Malachai’s eyes flashed and abruptly, he stood up and struck the physician. “WHY WOULD YOU SAY SUCH NONSENSE?”

           “Apologies, your Majesty,” said the physician, bowing. “I am afraid, the positioning of the child is ---”

           “ENOUGH,” said Malachai. He sunk back into the chair. “Enough.”

                                          _________________

The sudden burst of sunlight made Bonnie open her eyes and groan. She was sore all over, weak and confused.

           “Baby,” she muttered. “Where’s my child?”

           “Dead,” said a cold voice.

           Bonnie raised her head slightly. Damon was standing at the foot of her bed and Alaric was sitting in an armchair next to her. Elena had been the one to draw open the curtains.

           “D-dead,” Bonnie repeated. “Are you certain?”

           “Yes,” said Alaric.

           Tears sprung to Bonnie’s eyes, she started to hyperventilate, her vision was blurry. Dead. Her baby was dead.

           “No,” she said. “No, no, no, no…”

           “Yes, I’m afraid your daughter was sacrificed for your life,” said Damon harshly.

           Bonnie let out a wail and Elena rushed over to the bed, holding her in her arms. “I am so sorry, Bonnie,” she said.

           Bonnie held onto Elena’s arm, sobbing, screaming. “She was innocent, she was innocent in all of this, I … how could she be… she, I … oh my God, how could she be dead?”

           “Because the King decreed it!” said Alaric. He slammed his hand down on the armrest. “It is a good thing too, that child was monstrous, full of deformities. How could you let this happen?”

           “I DIDN’T LET ANYTHING HAPPEN!” said Bonnie.

           “Not only did you fail to bring a child to term, had the King chosen to save the life of the child instead of you, he would’ve been stuck with a deformed girl he probably would’ve had the servants drown! Where would our family be then? You can’t do a single thing right!”

           “Papa, that’s a bit harsh,” said Elena. “Bonnie has just had---”

           “You stay out of this,” said Damon. “This doesn’t concern you.”

           “She’s my sister! And she is in pain. Allow her to mourn the loss of her child!”

           “It is only a girl,” said Damon.

“Is a mother not allowed to mourn the passing of her child, girl or boy?”

“Not this mother! She is not a peasant,” said Damon.

“She is still a mother!”

Damon’s eyes flashed. “You should leave us, Elena.”

“No,” she said defiantly.

Damon raised his eyebrows and then turned to Alaric. “Uncle, I confess I did not plan on telling you this because I was going to deal with the situation in due time and we have other, more important matters to contend with…”

           “What could you possibly have to say at a time like this?”    

           “Your youngest daughter has been cavorting with a knight,” said Damon.

           Elena’s eyes widened.            

“Sir Stefan. I have it on good authority that he has taken her maidenhead.”

           Elena disentangled from Bonnie and stood up from the bed, Bonnie curling into a ball, gripping the sheets as she cried.

           “DAMON.”

           Alaric slammed his hand down for a second time. “Have you lost your senses? A knight? The sister of the Queen should not debase herself with a KNIGHT.”

           “Papa, I love him, I---”

“OH I DO NOT CARE.” He stood up. “WORTHLESS BOTH OF YOU. You were stupid enough to give that man your maidenhead! I should disown you! I am cutting off your allowance!” he spat.

           “Papa, I ---”

           “Get out of my sight! Get out!”

           Elena glared at Damon, teary-eyed.

           “This is what happens when you don’t obey one of my orders,” he muttered.

           She squeezed her eyes shut and ran out of the room.

           Bonnie kept crying.

           “Stop raving,” snapped Alaric.

           “She killed her, she killed her…”

           “Oh not this!” said Damon.

           Alaric furrowed his eyebrows. “Who killed…”

           “Caroline,” cried Bonnie.

           Alaric turned to Damon who rolled his eyes.

           “Is she serious?”

           “She’s grief-stricken,” said Damon.

           “Bonnie, pull yourself together,” said Alaric. “You are still young. You have time to conceive another child with His Majesty.”

           She raised her head from the sheets, her face tear-stained, her eyes wild. “Where is His Majesty?”

           “He hasn’t left his chambers since the ordeal,” said Damon.

           “How long ago was that?” said Bonnie.

           “Four days,” said Alaric. “He gave the physicians the order to save you and then shut himself in his chambers, not before issuing a decree to execute the head physician who failed in delivering the child.”

           “I must go to him!”

           “He does not need to see you like this,” said Alaric. “He chose to save your life which means that he is indeed in love with you but if he sees you like this he would declare you insane and we have too much at stake for that to happen.”

           “I will be driven insane if I don’t see my husband. I can’t stay in this room any longer!” She threw her covers off of her but Damon stepped forward and pressed her back onto the bed.

           “You are too weak to move still,” he said. “In any case, the King is aware that you are now conscious.”

           Bonnie looked at him and his eyes glinted vindictively. “He does not wish to see you.”

                                           __________________

Malachai hadn’t left his chambers in four days. He hadn’t drawn the curtains, lit the candles, allowed himself to be shaved.

He’d heard Bonnie was awake but could not bring himself to see her. He was embroiled in fury. A daughter. A deformed baby girl. That was what his wife had been carrying in her belly. He seethed at the thought. A daughter. Unhealthy. That … that … that was no child of his. He was the King. He was ordained by God. His issue were destined to be strong, to be sons. Abruptly, his mind flashed back to Damon’s hand on Bonnie’s belly, to Lorenzo’s longing gazes. He yelled, throwing a glass of wine against the wall and then stood up.

“READY THE HORSE.”

                                   ___________________

Tyler had sores all over, his skin was cracked and dirt-grubbed, his body confined by chains. He looked barely alive, standing, bloody, in his cell when Malachai visited him.

“Majesty,” said Tyler. His voice was hoarse and nearly inaudible; he’d had no occasion to speak often. “I would bow but I’m in a bit of a bind,” he said.

Malachai laughed and a ghost of a smile flickered on Tyler’s lips.

The guards had provided Malachai a chair and he sat down, eyeing Tyler’s discomfort. “Do you resent me, Tyler? For having you live in such a state?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“The Queen wanted you executed,” said Malachai. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” He paused. “Bonnie is the Queen.”

“I have heard,” said Tyler, nodding stiffly. “I wanted to send my congratulations but alas…” He looked down at his chained body.

“How does our marriage make you feel, really?” said Malachai.

“Happy.” Tyler cleared his throat and then spat out some blood. “I had never seen your Majesty so besotted with a woman, it was like … your love for her possessed you.”

“I have never in my life felt anything like it,” said Malachai. “Did you ever think I would abstain from pleasure for a woman?”

           Tyler shook his head. “Your appetite was far greater than mine and I couldn’t even abstain for a day. That was how I knew you loved her.”

           Malachai sat silently for a minute and then spoke. “Back then, when we would pursue our game … did a woman ever lie to you about her virginity?”

           Tyler raised his eyebrows. “Quite often. It’s almost a custom at court.”  

Malachai nodded. “Bonnie said I was her first, that only her husband would take her maidenhead but when I finally took her to my bed, she was …” His eyes darkened. “She couldn’t give me a son.”

Tyler stood silently.

“Not only that but the child, it was … I would never conceive such a child…”

Neither man said anything for a long period of time until Tyler finally broke the silence. “When Your Majesty asked me to research the Queen, I had discovered …” He cleared his throat for a second time. “I had discovered that Elena was considered the more beautiful sister, it is true, but Bonnie … she was a woman who attracted obsessions.”

Malachai clenched his jaw.

“She was quite the free spirit in Italy, allowing men to visit her bedchambers even without an escort.”

His breathing grew more agitated.

“Perhaps Her Majesty is unaccustomed to the propriety of England? Perhaps, she practices such a freedom of morals even here?”

Malachai was blinded by red once more. The mere thought of Bonnie indulging herself with other men, servicing other men, even before she’d met him possessed him with an intense jealousy only outmatched by his desire for her. It was a jealousy that compelled him to yell, compelled him to move, that made his hands tremor, his feet shake, he would break apart buildings with this jealousy. When his sight refocused, Tyler was on the floor, his head caved in, blood seeping onto the straw used as a bed.  Next to Malachai was the chair he’d been sitting on, broken in half.

He sighed and then opened the door where four guards stood watch. They peered into the cell to see Tyler’s corpse.

“Dispose of the body,” said Malachai. “I will state a private execution was commissioned.”

“Majesty.”

“When I get back to the palace, I am issuing two execution orders and a decree to examine any and all men seen to have acquainted themselves with the Queen. Tell your men to make the arrests.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

                                               _____________

“Your Majesty, please!”

“Let me through!”

“Your Majesty---”

“Careful! If we harm her, he will kill us all.”

“Allow me through then!”

“Your Majesty, the King has ordered---”

Bonnie pushed open the double doors to Malachai’s office with a force she never knew she had, the force of being unable to see him for nearly a month. The guards rushed in after her but then took a step back when she let started to yell. In the middle of the room there was a woman with her grown around her waist, Malachai sitting at the window behind his desk, watching her.

Bonnie’s gut dropped, her insides writhed in anger, she pressed her hand against her chest, everything in her body screaming. “What is this?”  

Malachai stood up. “Bonnie---”

“No, no, no WHAT IS THIS.”

           Bonnie started to walk toward the woman, her hand outstretched; the woman shuffled backwards, frightened. Malachai rushed toward Bonnie, holding her in his arms before she could get any closer.

           “No, don’t touch me!” Bonnie struggled. The vortex had claimed her completely. “I HATE YOU.”

           “Stop it!” he held her tighter.

           “LET ME GO.”

“Guards! Escort the Lady Margaret out.”

           There was a shuffle of commotion that Bonnie didn’t pay attention to but when she heard the door close, she let out a wail, putting her hands on Malachai’s face, raking her fingernails on his cheeks. He yelped in pain but held her tighter.

“My cousin has just been murdered and you’re here doing this?”

He glared at her, finally letting her go. “Damon was executed at my pleasure, not murdered!” His expression was contorted with rage. “Is that what you ran here for, to see if you could plead for him before it was too late?”  

“And if I hadn’t come, what would you have done with her?” said Bonnie. “What did you do with her?”

“Nothing!” he yelled. “Nothing happened, nothing could happen, I couldn’t do anything but I wish I could’ve! I wish I could’ve wanted her the way I want you, I wish I could’ve taken her all over this room! I wish could’ve humiliated you, hurt you, the way you’ve hurt me!”

Bonnie screamed. “I’ve done nothing but love you!”

“Do not lie to me! You came running in here, pleading for his life!”

“He’s my cousin!”

“Your cousin or your lover? That child was not mine!”

Bonnie put her hands to her head. “THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS. I have been trying to tell you this for weeks! I have taken no other man, especially not him! Our daughter---”

“She was not our daughter! The way he touched your belly---”

“Malachai, LISTEN TO ME.”  

“Why? Why should I believe you?” Malchai’s eyes flashed. “Everything out of your mouth is a lie!”            “No, it’s---”

He whirled on her. “Were you or were you not a virgin when we met?”

Bonnie opened her mouth and then closed it but didn’t say anything. Malachai’s face crumpled and then he grabbed at his hair.  

“I knew it! I KNEW IT!” He rammed his fist into a wall over and over until his knuckles were bloodied.

“STOP IT,” said Bonnie.

“You should be executed with him, with him and Lorenzo and all of the other men you’ve taken to your bed, I should have you hanged!”

“Stop saying there’ve been other men, when could there have been other men? I have not wanted---”

“Stop STOP LYING TO ME. Your family manoeuvered me, you have made a fool out of me, pretending to love me and still, still I can’t rid myself you!”

“DON’T YOU DARE SO I DON’T LOVE YOU,” said Bonnie. “You have no idea what I have done because I love you!”

“Because you love your position of Queen!”            “No title is worth the torment I have put myself through for you, no title is worth my sanity, I have endured all of this because I love you! I have damned my soul for you!”

“LIES, ALL OF IT.”

“I killed Caroline!” Bonnie yelled.

Malachai looked at her, shock widening his eyes. “You what?”

“I had her poisoned,” said Bonnie. “I was so afraid that they would make you go back to her, that you would have to leave me for her so I had her killed and she’s been haunting me every since! Every single day! She’s here in this room right now! I’ve endured her for you! And then I find you here with that wench Margaret---”

“NOTHING HAPPENED WITH MARGARET.”

“Why should I believe you when you can’t even believe me?” said Bonnie. “You wish you could’ve taken Margaret all over this room? If I am to be accused of adultery I wish I would’ve fucked half the men you’ve accused me of being with!”

“Stop it,” said Malachai.

“Damon’s exploits were never quiet ones,” she said. “I heard them in our house. I will admit the moans made me curious.”

“I SAID STOP.”

Malachai seized her by her shoulders and slammed her against the wall. “Stop it! Stop!”

But Bonnie couldn’t stop. The words poured out of her, vicious and mean-spirited, the image of him and Margaret alone in this room still stung her, his refusal to see her after their child had been born was a constant pain in her chest. She loved him to the detriment of her own sanity and he questioned her loyalty to him. He needed to suffer for it.

“Maybe he should’ve been my first!”

Malachai blinked, red returning to his vision. “Who was it?” he said. He shook her. “Who has had you? It was Lorenzo wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Bonnie harshly. “More than once. I reached euphoria the first time.”

Images flashed in his mind tinted in red; writhing bodies, husky moans, Bonnie’s expression as she reached her climax. His spit was bitter, his stomach was roiling. Sick. He was going to be sick with anger.

Sudden pain bit at his hands. He blinked again and realized Bonnie’s nails were clawing at his wrists, his hands were clasped around her throat. He let go swiftly, Bonnie sinking onto the floor and gasping for breath, and he back away from her, his hands trembling.

“Choking me won’t change anything,” she gasped.

Malachai gritted his teeth, pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I told you to stop!”

“I never said such a thing to Lorenzo,” said Bonnie. “I begged him to have me, I was insatiable for him.”

The images didn’t stop. They grew clearer with each blink. He backed away from her, his hands to head. Sounds cluttered his mind. Her sighing. Lorenzo’s groaning, each noise brought an image: gyrating hips, hands clenching sheets, lip-biting. His body was agitated with the vividness, he stumbled as he walked away.  

“SHUT UP. SHUT UP NOW, BONNIE.”

“But if Damon were to have me … I confess to fantasizing about it, even with you still ins

Malachai pictured that now; groans coming from behind closed door, Bonnie enamoured by the noise, pleasing herself to it, thinking about it each time they were entwined, biting her lip to keep from saying another man’s name. Everything started to go hazy, his sight was blurred, he felt the need to escape the room, escape his head, escape her taunts.

Lorenzo, she moaned. Damon, she sighed.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD.”

Malachai started to run, as if he were trying to outrun his thoughts, but tripped over the carpet and fell backwards, his head slamming against the side of the desk, his body landing with a sickening crunch. Bonnie screamed.

“MALACHAI.”

She rushed forward and kneeled next to him, slapping her hand to her mouth when she saw the angle of his neck. “GET UP, WAKE UP, I WAS LYING. IT WAS A LIE. ALL OF IT. GET UP NOW.”

She shook him, her hands pawing at his doublet. “NO, NO, NO. WHY! WHY DID I --- WHY DID YOU --- YOU IDIOT YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE BELIEVED ME!”

Her screams tore through her, shredding her throat, robbing her of air, she couldn’t stop herself, calm herself down, all she could was scream.

The doors burst open. There were loud gasps and exclamations, screams of surprise.

“WHAT HAPPENED?”

“IS THE KING DEAD?”

“YOUR MAJESTY, WHAT HAPPENED?”

Bonnie started hyperventilating. “I killed him,” she said. “I killed him. I killed him. I killed him.” She couldn’t stop herself. “I killed him.”

“Did she say she killed the king?”

“She did! She killed the king!”

“I killed him. I – I ---”  

           “Bonnie Bennett,” said a voice. “You are currently under arrest for---”

           “No,” she whispered. “No.”

           She looked around the room, the guards crowding her, the spears in her face, everything was dizzying, she was spinning, she was descending further and further.

           “You bastard whore! You have confessed to killing the King! Arrest her!”

           She started screaming, throwing herself onto Malachai’s body, holding onto him. “NO. LEAVE ME HERE, LEAVE ME HERE WITH HIM. DO NOT MAKE US PART.”

           “Leave his body in peace!”

           She clung to his arm. “NO, NO, I WILL NOT GO!”

           Hands grabbed at Bonnie, roughly pulling at her arms, her hair, her legs, but she wouldn’t let go of Malachai’s body, she wouldn’t part from him, not again. An order to break her arm or sever her hand was uttered and all the spears descended upon her at once. In the confusion, a blade had pierced her in the chest, connecting with her heart, she gasped and ---

Bonnie bolted up right, panting and gasping, her hand pressed against her chest. She was sweaty and confused, disoriented. She looked around, this didn’t look like a palace, it didn’t look like the 16th Century, it looked like … it looked like home. Her home.

           Her heart was racing.

That couldn’t have been a dream. She was there. She felt it. Lived it.  It was like the time … Bonnie’s eyes narrowed. It was like the time she’d experienced being back at the car wash, when she met Kai in the woods.

Taking a deep breath, she looked to her right. Just like last time, Kai was sitting at the coffee table, his hands clasped beneath his chin, watching her.

“I didn’t listen to you,” he said. “I followed you back to your house.”

           Bonnie gritted her teeth and reached for the closest thing to her --- a remote --- and threw it at him. He ducked and the remote broke apart on the wall behind him.

           “I think you broke it,” he said. “There was a Friends marathon on tonight too.”

           “What the hell was that?” said Bonnie. She was still clutching at her chest. “Was that another one of your alternate universes?”

           “No,” said Kai seriously. “No, that was your past life.”

           Bonnie gesticulated wildly. “You have got to be kidding me!”

           “I learned the spell from a psychic, the same one who showed me,” said Kai. “I thought if I killed him I could absorb his powers but it didn’t really work out that way.”

           “I don’t---”

           “Don’t say you don’t believe me,” said Kai, looking at her. “We went through this when I brought you back to that day at the car wash, this isn’t the kind of thing I would lie about, Bonnie, it defeats the purpose. Anyway, you felt it, there is no way I could make an illusion that visceral, even I’m not that good and I’m pretty fucking amazing.”

           Bonnie shook her head. “I think I might be sick.”

           “How many times,” said Kai, staring at her. “How many ways will you make me prove that there’s no escaping this. We’re inevitable”

           “You can’t possibly think that showing me the amount of destruction we caused in our past lives is going to make me accept this --- this ---” Bonnie clenched her hair. “God, there isn’t a bad enough word to describe what we are.”

           “What we have is powerful.”

           “What we have is poisonous!” Bonnie stood up. “No matter what freaking century we’re in, we ruin everything around us!” She started to pace. “We tore apart an entire kingdom! How many lives did we destroy? Caroline, I, I can’t believe I--- Oh my God!” She put her hands to her mouth and started to cry. She looked at Kai.

           “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for showing me that because I didn’t know how I was ever going to walk away from you and it killed me, it killed me thinking I would never be free of this but what you showed me…”

           Bonnie shook her head. “We’re already going down that path. What we did to Jeremy, how I alienated Elena … this has been destroying the life I’ve made for myself but I will not let it destroy them.”

           Kai’s eyes widened slightly in panic. “What are you saying?” he said.

           Bonnie didn’t anything and walked into the kitchen. There was still glass on the floor, she hadn’t gotten around to cleaning up.

           “BONNIE, WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?”

           He followed her into the kitchen.

           “I’m saying this is over!” she said, looking for a bottle of alcohol. Kai had broken the bottle of bourbon.

           “You don’t mean it,” said Kai.

           She turned around to face him. “I do,” she said. “This is sick. We are sick, we’re like a cancer! Because what happened back then,” Bonnie bit her lip. “What I felt back then…” she heaved. “That could happen now, I know it can. And I hate it! I hate that even now you can bring me to that wretched place that you brought me to then! The way this makes me desperate and violent, I…” She found a bottle of vodka and took a swig. “I will not let myself destroy others for you! That is where I cross the line. We are done. This is done. I am done.”

           “No,” said Kai. “No, you would miss it. You always say you’re done and then whether it’s two days or six weeks, you’re back, fiending for me, fiending for this, I’ve seen you when you try to walk away from us, you go insane.”

           “I do,” said Bonnie. “I do and I’ll have to live with that, live with how much I want you, want this, live with what kind of person that makes me, but I will do it, Kai, I will live with it.”

           Kai could hear the finality in her voice and was seized with a fear he never felt before. “No,” he said. “No, I won’t let you go.”

           “I’m not asking you to let me go, I’m LEAVING.”

           “And I will follow you,” said Kai. “I won’t let you leave! I won’t let you walk away from me! I told you, this is inescapable,

           Bonnie stared at him. “You’re right,” she said. “You will.”

           Abruptly, she bashed the vodka bottle against the counter and with the shard remaining in her hand, stabbed herself in the neck.

           In an instant, Malachai bit his wrist and sped over to her, pressing his wound to her lips so she could drink his blood. Bonnie coughed and spluttered but she had to accept it.

           He removed his hand. “YOU THINK I WASN’T READY FOR THAT?”

           Bonnie stared at him, heaving. “I’ll just keep trying,” she muttered.

           Kai looked at her, nodding. “You’re right,” he said.

           And he snapped her neck.

#bonkai #bonnie bennett #kai parker #the vampire diaries #bonkai fanfiction #bonnie x kai #kai x bonnie #tvd #grahamwood #kat graham #chris wood #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction #fanfiction #regency fanfiction #regency #anti-tvd #anti julie plec #zalrb #zalrb fanfiction #anti caroline dries #kevin williamson

[junker-town]

Our latest NFL 2020 mock draft is here

Laviska Shenault, CeeDee Lamb, and Jerry Jeudy are three of the top 2020 wide receiver prospects.

Pass catchers, like CeeDee Lamb and Jerry Jeudy, will be in abundance in the first round this year.

If declarations continue to go as planned, there is no better position at the top of the 2020 NFL Draft than wide receiver. That’s even after Alabama’s DeVonta Smith and Oklahoma State’s Tylan Wallace announced they were returning to school for another season.

In this week’s mock draft, seven wide receivers go in the first round. That would be the most since seven were taken in Round 1 in 2004. That year saw three wide receivers drafted in the top 10, starting with wide receiver Larry Fitzgerald going third to the Arizona Cardinals.

Although the first round this year should feature a load of pass catchers, we might not see them going quite as high as they did in 2004. Still, we could see big runs at wide receiver, starting with Jerry Jeudy and Henry Ruggs III of Alabama.

Here’s how the wide receivers could fall in the first round, and where they could go:

1. Cincinnati Bengals: Joe Burrow, QB, LSU

In their history, the Bengals have taken five quarterbacks in the first round. Other than Carson Palmer in 2003, they’ve all been disastrous. Will Burrow be Palmer, or will he be a bust like Akili Smith in 1999 and David Klingler in 1992? The Bengals don’t have an option other than to find out.

2. Washington: Chase Young, DE, Ohio State

With Ron Rivera and Jack Del Rio, Washington could run an interesting 4-3/3-4 hybrid that will rely on Young and Montez Sweat being versatile rushing the passer. That should give the team quite the dangerous duo to help mask some of its flaws in the secondary.

3. Detroit Lions: Jeff Okudah, CB, Ohio State

One of the biggest things to monitor with the Lions this offseason is the future of cornerback Darius Slay. He has one year left on his contract, but voiced his displeasure when the team shipped Quandre Diggs to the Seahawks. If Slay is out, Ohio State’s Jeff Okudah will be in play with the third pick.

4. New York Giants: Tristan Wirfs, OT, Iowa

With it being so early in the draft process, there is no consensus on who is the top offensive tackle prospect. Some like Andrew Thomas of Georgia or Jedrick Wills of Alabama, while others prefer Wirfs. For the Giants, right tackle Mike Remmers is a free agent. If he departs, New York could bolster that side of the line with Wirfs and have a dominant side with guard Will Hernandez.

5. Miami Dolphins: Tua Tagovailoa, QB, Alabama

Miami caught a break on Monday with Tagovailoa announcing that he will enter the draft. That gives the quarterback-needy Dolphins an option with the fifth pick. The key, of course, will be getting comfortable with Tagovailoa’s extensive injury history.

6. Los Angeles Chargers: Andrew Thomas, OT, Georgia

The Chargers go into the offseason in a standoff with longtime quarterback Philip Rivers. Do they let the free agent walk after a 20-interception season? Does Rivers even want to return? For the sake of this mock draft, let’s say Rivers is back with the Chargers. If he is, they could finally add talent on the offensive line with a player like Thomas.

7. Carolina Panthers: Derrick Brown, DT, Auburn

Kawann Short went on injured reserve in October, and one of Carolina’s biggest strengths became a weakness. When he comes back, the Panthers could pair him with a dominant player like Brown in the draft.

8. Arizona Cardinals: Jedrick Wills, OT, Alabama

The Wills-to-Arizona pick again this week might be boring, but it’s impossible to ignore the Cardinals badly needing offensive line help. Wills is in the first tier of offensive tackles in this class, and then it’s a drop-off to players like Austin Jackson of USC, Josh Jones of Houston and Isaiah Wilson of Georgia.

9. Jacksonville Jaguars: Isaiah Simmons, LB, Clemson

Although it would be fun to give the Jaguars a wide receiver, the team’s need in the front seven is apparent. Simmons can man the middle of Jacksonville’s defense to help the run game, but he has the athleticism to roam the entire field.

10. Cleveland Browns: Grant Delpit, S, LSU

The Browns could be in trouble if Thomas, Wills, and Wirfs are all gone when they pick. But if that’s the case, they could still add a difference maker in Delpit to the back of the defense. The LSU standout is comfortable playing single-high safety, but has the physical prowess to come down against the run.

11. New York Jets: Jerry Jeudy, WR, Alabama

The Jets need to get some weapons for Sam Darnold, especially given that wide receiver Robby Anderson is a free agent. Jeudy is the draft’s best receiver, even if he isn’t the biggest or the fastest.

12. Las Vegas Raiders: Henry Ruggs III, WR, Alabama

There’s just something that makes sense about the Raiders taking a speedy receiver like Ruggs. Now it’s just a matter of having the right quarterback to get him the ball.

13. Indianapolis Colts: Austin Jackson, OT, USC

It seems like the Colts finally figured out their offensive line, just in time for left tackle Anthony Castonzo to enter free agency as he ponders retirement. Oof. If he’s not back, the Colts could maintain a good line with an athletic blocker like Jackson.

14. Tampa Bay Buccaneers: Justin Herbert, QB, Oregon

The Buccaneers have an interesting quarterback situation this offseason. Jameis Winston is fresh off a 30-interception season, and will still carry a hefty price tag as a free agent. Head coach Bruce Arians hasn’t minced words about Winston, and could seek a young passer like Herbert. Don’t forget, Arians is something of a quarterback whisperer, having helped build up players like Peyton Manning, Andrew Luck and Ben Roethlisberger. Herbert has tools, but needs the right coaching. He can get it from Arians.

15. Denver Broncos: A.J. Epenesa, DE, Iowa

Denver is another team in which it will be worth monitoring what happens to the roster. If defensive lineman Derek Wolfe departs, the Broncos could find a ready-made replacement in Epenesa.

16. Atlanta Falcons: Javon Kinlaw, DL, South Carolina

If the Falcons miss on Epenesa, they could fall back on Kinlaw, a versatile defensive lineman with skills to rush the passer from the inside.

17. Dallas Cowboys: Curtis Weaver, DE, Boise State

Robert Quinn could fetch a big contract in free agency after a strong season for Dallas. If he signs elsewhere, the Cowboys could find another good end from Boise State like they did with DeMarcus Lawrence.

18. Miami Dolphins (via Pittsburgh Steelers): Isaiah Wilson, OT, Georgia

What better way to protect a new franchise quarterback than with a 6’7, 340-pound behemoth of a right tackle? Wilson, who went pro after just his redshirt sophomore season at Georgia, engulfs defenders and leaves a clean pocket.

19. Las Vegas Raiders (via Chicago Bears): Trevon Diggs, CB, Alabama

The Raiders have a keeper in rookie cornerback Trayvon Mullen but could add a quality prospect opposite him in Diggs. That would give the Raiders a pair of big corners who can stick with receivers.

20. Jacksonville Jaguars: (via Los Angeles Rams): Laviska Shenault, WR, Colorado

Maybe the Jaguars will go with Gardner Minshew as their quarterback of the future. Maybe they won’t. What they need regardless is weapons on offense. DJ Chark is a good receiver, but Chris Conley and Dede Westbrook are solid role players.

21. Philadelphia Eagles: CeeDee Lamb, WR, Oklahoma

Throughout much of this season, it was obvious the Eagles need talent at wide receiver. Lamb has No. 1 potential and averaged an incredible 21.4 yards per reception this season.

22. Buffalo Bills: Tee Higgins, WR, Clemson

While Cole Beasley and John Brown are a good system fit for Buffalo, it was clear in the postseason this year why the offense needs a star receiver. Fortunately, this is the draft to get one. At 6’3 and just over 200 pounds, Higgins has good size at the position and knows how to use it. No longer will Josh Allen have to throw deep passes to fullbacks in playoff games.

23. New England Patriots: K.J. Hamler, WR, Penn State

As expected, Hamler entered the draft and could fly up the board faster than he flies up the field. Although the Patriots took N’Keal Harry in the 2019 draft and traded a second-round pick for Mohamed Sanu, a quick receiver like Hamler would be a big upgrade over Phillip Dorsett.

24. New Orleans Saints: Jalen Reagor, WR, TCU

That’s right, another wide receiver! While it might be improbable to see five in a row get picked in the first round, it might not be a shock if seven get taken in top 32. Reagor and his deep speed would be a nice foil for the ultra dependable Michael Thomas.

25. Tennessee Titans: Yetur Gross-Matos, DE/OLB, Penn State

The Titans will be fortunate if a player like Gross-Matos drops down to their pick in the first round. Pass rusher is the team’s biggest need — that is, if Derrick Henry doesn’t bolt after the season.

26. Minnesota Vikings: Kristian Fulton, CB, LSU

Drafting for need is always a gamble, but when you’re a playoff team like the Vikings, it can make sense. Fulton, who started the last two seasons on an excellent LSU defense, could plug into the starting lineup straight away.

27. Miami Dolphins (via Houston Texans): A.J. Terrell, CB, Clemson

Cornerback Xavien Howard faces legal issues, and if the Dolphins release him it would open the position up as a big need in South Beach. Terrell was an all-conference player for Clemson this season despite rarely getting tested.

28. Seattle Seahawks: Terrell Lewis, DE/OLB, Alabama

Seattle had the second-fewest sacks in the NFL this season, so if there’s a good pass rusher, the team should pounce. Lewis bounced back this season after injuries plagued him early in his college career.

29. Kansas City Chiefs: Kenneth Murray, LB, Oklahoma

The Chiefs could let linebacker Reggie Ragland walk after this season and find his replacement with a linebacker like Murray. He showed improved range for Oklahoma this season, and would give the Chiefs a linebacker who can get after the passer.

30. Green Bay Packers: Mekhi Becton, OT, Louisville

Bryan Bulaga is a free agent this offseason, and the Packers could find his successor with Becton. He’s another mountainous tackle who easily overpowers defenders.

31. San Francisco 49ers: Prince Tega Wanogho, OT, Auburn

The 49ers will probably move down after trading their second- and third-round picks already. But if they stick, they could find Joe Staley’s eventual replacement with left tackle Tega Wanogho.

32. Baltimore Ravens: Julian Okwara, DE/OLB, Notre Dame

Okwara isn’t the best run stopper up front, but he’ll be drafted for his ability to get after the passer. He could develop into Baltimore’s next Za’Darius Smith, who they missed this season after he went to Green Bay.

[aibuspotter]

21st century Lily Evans

so this all came out from a conversation with @floralhxrry?? Because she aproached me with “do you think Lily Evans would have an studyblr?” (or something along those lines) and a collab headcanon happened

Lily Evans has an studyblr

She opened it in fifth year, when the OWLs were stressing her out

She had been following studyblrs since fourth year, but she didn’t think she could make her notes pretty enough for one

In fifth year she said fuck it and decided to make an effort, for the sake of her sanity

She asked her parents to send her pens and markers and notebooks, and she started trying

By sixth year her blog is very well known in the studyblr community (most of her asks are muggles that think that she makes everything up, but love her “fake notes” anyway) (her fellow magicians are kinda worried, but love her because her notes are so easy to understand!)

She loves it, it’s therapeutic and she discovered that she is doing better in her classes with this organized-by-color-and-with-pretty-doodle notes

For each class she uses two markers of the same color (a pastel one and a vivid one)

She takes Potions, Herbology and Charms for her future (potions professor? Aporhecary owner?? Who knows, but potions related for sure), and also DADA and Astronomy (for the sake of safety, and because stars are cool and the AestheticTM respectively), and Divination

For potions she uses purple (because potions are rad and purple is such a good color for a potion) (it is also her favorite color and subject so, it’s kind of an obvious choice)

For DADA is green because she is unable to forget the fact that it’s James’s favorite subject (even if he told her in second year and how do you even remember that Lily?), and James always says he loves her eyes

For charms it’s blue, because Flitwick is Ravenclaw’s head of house and because she finds it fits with the class as a whole, really

She doesn’t take pretty notes for divination. She doesn’t even know why she keeps taking divination (Ah right, because Remus finds it interesting but none of his mates wanted to take it with him). She doesn’t even think it has actual theory, it’s all guesswork (unless you have mystical powers like Professor Trelawney’s ofc). But she does use an orange pen in it because she keeps exchanging notes (not class related of course) with her friends

(Said notes are about whatever, really, from gossip with Marlene to gossip with Remus, or the most fucking random things like “Do you think snakes are sad because they don’t have any arms and legs?” “Remus what the fuck” “But do you think they do??” or planning what to do the next Hogsmead trip with the girls)

(Also she uses the parchment in which she doesn’t write for these notes, since she uses muggle notebooks for class)

For astronomy she uses grey, because grey is a cool color, and the starts usually look silver

And Herbology is yellow, because even if some of the plants are dangerous she finds it a happy subject and yellow is a cheery color that she think fits with her mood in class

(Yes, she has had to back up her color choices to her friends before, because they just facepalm at the childishness of her reasons)

She likes to doodle on her notes too

She literally just learned how to do faux calligraphy to make her notes look more aesthetic (and now she can’t stop)

She has neat, small handwriting, that many have trouble reading (“Fuck Lily would it really hurt if you made your handwriting a little bigger??” “Yes”) 

At first her friends thought she was weird taking photos of her notes, but then she came clean with them and they were very supportive

(They actually started borrowing her pens to make their parchments a little more bright) (but still made good fun of her color choices)

She sometimes takes photos in the library or common room (when there aren’t many people around) but mostly in her dorm

(At the start of sixth year she brought from home a small table to put in her dorm so she could have a flat surface to take photos in, without having to leave the safety of it)

Sometimes she records the lessons and takes her notes later (because sometimes teachers are messy and get things mixed up or just straight up don’t tell the things in order)

And she has scheduled time exclusively for her note taking, be it in the library or common room

She also posts tips and tutorials, an a few aesthetic photos of the grounds and the sky and the lake

She tried to keep a bullet journal but she didn’t have enough time, so she uses a normal journal instead, and puts stickers and washitape in it sometimes, just to make it look prettier

When she has free time she likes to answer asks and tag games (she has done this in: her bed, the grounds, with her head resting on Remus’s lap, with her head resting on Marlene’s shoulder, in The Three Broomsticks while Mary and Dorcas were having a heated discussion about which flavor of Honeydukes chocolate was better and Marlene flirted with a ravenclaw seventh year, among other places)

She’s the kind of girl that messy notes make her head swim. She can’t stand them and therefore hates skiping class for one reason or another

(If she has to, she makes Remus record the lesson for her) (Remus, bless his soul, does it) (She pays him in Honeydukes chocolate and lending him her notes when he can’t go to class because of his furry little problem)

She’s that person that everyone goes for help with notes

And talking about that: She helps everyone, everyone knows that if you are too shy / anxious to talk to her you can send her an anon ask or an owl message and she will answer you with where and when you can pick the notes up and she will use a duplicating charm to make copies for you and leave them in the spot; if you are a seventh year she will help you revise and give you tips to organize your notes yourself; and she keeps all her notes from earlier years for if a little one needs help

She also spent her fifth year summer organizing her notes from first to fourth year “for the future generations”

(Petunia thinks she’s even more mad than before)

#Lily Evans #headcanons #au #21st century au #studyblr au #limes network #lgbthpnet #cedrjcdiggory #floralhxrry #acciolunalovegood #txt #look lune is posting things! #my headcanons