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blue-jisungs · 3 months

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silent hug

author's note. this is veeeery self indulgent bc my exams r killing me so yeah 👍

genre. hurt to comfort (i think?), classmates to friends ??? idk man just whipped n cute sunoo

summary. in which your classmate comforts you when you tear up in class :(

warnings. cursing, reader is in a bad place mentally,, kinda hinting to academic burnout? ,, crying :( + not proofread, sorry!!

word count. 1286

with a heavy sigh you plopped down on the chair, putting your bag on the desk. the walk from the bus stop to the university tired you out but at least you got four or five minutes before the classes started. so you rested your head against the bag and closed your eyes, taking in a little more sleep than you could get this morning.

the final season is coming to an end, finally. but weirdly enough, you don’t feel relieved. sure, there’s only three or four exams left – and you haven’t really studied for them but that’s a thing to do the day before, isn’t it? – but you can’t help but feel the exhaustion. your friends chat about how there’s less things to take then it was at the beginning, sure. but the closer you get to the midterm break, the less motivation you have. and the tiredness that accumulated throughout the whole month is seeking its way out.

which is why you’re a mess nowadays. promising yourself to study but ending up doing everything but studying, falling asleep at ungodly hours (and regretting it later)… or shutting yourself down from the world. your friends got used to it, everyone has their lives after classes after all. but you carry on with do not disturb on most of the time, missing out their conversations on chats and tiktoks they’ve sent you. sure, you could’ve read them later – but there’s a sinking feeling of guilt (and a dazzle of overthinking) that you’re such a shitty friend.

all of this causes your negative emotions to bottle up. and you know it’s not a good thing, especially when you feel like you’re about to cry when a minor inconvenience occurs. but you’re stronger than that, no? the thought of locking yourself in your room during the break keeps you alive, pushing the sadness – seemingly – away.

a sudden tap on your shoulder caused you to open your eyes and lazily shift your focus to your classmate, sunoo. you looked around and didn’t see your friends… well, they probably skipped the classes since some of them are careless just like that.

"it’s about to start" sunoo smiled gently and you noticed the way his ebony gaze lingered on you for a while longer. great, you should’ve put at least some foundation.

"thanks" you nodded and took out your ipad, the other hand rubbing your eye. here we go…

"i feel like… some people in this class don’t take my lessons seriously" the professor started and you froze, heart skipping a beat. he couldn’t possibly mean you, right? “the final exam is around the corner and some of you… did not too well on the quiz"

oh, well. it’s definitely aimed at you.

"i’ll hand them out at the end of the class and then run over your mistakes. now we’ll do a revision. and you better listen" the man says and you could swear his piercing gaze is drilling into your soul.

an unpleasant feeling of warmth creeped into your face and once again you curse yourself for not putting any makeup. sunoo glanced at you, a sad smile on his lips.

the professor approached you at the end, when all of the students already left. putting the paper sheet with a nasty P– on it, you frowned. hey, you passed!

"y/n, i’m really disappointed. i don’t know what’s going on but that’s the worst work of yours so far. pull yourself together. there’s so many major mistakes… spellings… it’s not an academic level. you were one point away from not passing this one" his words hit a cord in your heart, your palms beginning to sweat. he patted the paper and returned to his desk, grabbing his stuff.

and you didn’t even know when that happened – your sweaty palms shaking, breath getting stuck in your throat, vision blurry because of tears.

you packed your things and wanted to leave but your legs felt too weak. your professor left, causing you to end up all alone in the room.

you sniffed, trying to wipe out the tears but they seemed to have other plans.

"don’t cry, idiot. it’s fucking embarrassing" you breathed out to yourself, voice barely above a whisper.

"y/n, if you want… oh. are you okay?"

you would normally look up to see who that was but the realization of someone even seeing you in such state caused your face to redden even more. pulling your t-shirt up to hide your face in it, you felt like there was no way out: you couldn’t possibly stop crying. it was like your professor’s words triggered something.

"i’m… hey, it’s okay. did he say anything bad to you? or do?" someone approached you and you shook your head as a no. "can i stay here?"

you hesitantly peeled from your shirt and noticed sunoo. his gaze softened upon seeing your teary eyes, lashes wet and flushed face.

"just… don’t mind me" you mumbled and hid your face in your shirt again. you just couldn’t stand someone seeing you in such state, whether it was someone close or a stranger.

"i… i don’t know what he said but i’ve noticed that there’s something going on with you. and may have heard what your friends said... do you want to talk about it?" sunoo asked gently and all he could hear were the harsh sobs leaving your lips.

"they talk about me behind my back?" you whined, your shoulders shaking even more. his eyes widened. that was not the best thing to say…

"no, no! i mean they said you look really tired lately…" he explained hastily and suddenly you looked up. your shirt was soaked with tears and your face was a mess, your pupils blown and wet stains on your cheeks.

"i’m so tired, sunoo. i don’t think i can handle this anymore… and everyone seems to be doing great… just not me…" you mumbled, sending him a sad smile. the pearly tears balanced at the edge of your waterline, ready to spill. he shook his head.

"you’ve got this, i know you do. you got here somehow in the first place, no? if you want, i can help you. with anything. i’m not the smartest but i do understand some things so…" he stopped talking upon seeing your curious gaze.

"why are you doing this?” you asked, sniffling.

"i just… you’re my classmate in a need of help. i couldn’t stand there and not do anything when i heard you cry. and now there’s no way out, isn’t it?" sunoo joked and his face lit up. oh, this boy was a literal sunshine.

"you said everything?" you mumbled, unsurely. he nodded, a caring smile tugging on his lips "can… hmpfh… can i hug you…?"

the words were so quiet, sunoo barely heard them. but he noticed the begging look in your eyes and who was he to deny? it’s not like he would mind, either.

sunoo just opened your arms and you hugged him tightly, wrapping your arms around his waist. he patted your back soothingly, letting you let out all of your pent up stress.

a part of sunoo’s heart raced because he wouldn’t have ever imagined that he would hug his hallway crush. the other part which caused his heart to race was the embrace itself, your smell and you in general – and he was happy he could help you.

neither of you didn’t have to talk right now. a silent hug that expressed more than a sentences could ever. and both of you knew, sitting here glued to each other and in comfortable silence, that it was a beginning of a beautiful friendship.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ocean-minho ,, @s-e-s-a-l-e-n-e ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

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small world ~ corpse husband

word count: 2053

request?: yes!

“Can I get a Corpse x fem reader where reader an corpse are both streamers and they meet each other for the first time and realize they used to know each other as kids? I know Corpse has said that he didn’t have many friends when he was younger so maybe have it where reader was someone that was really nice to him? Sorry for the long request and thank you if you do it! 😊🖤”

description: he never would’ve thought that the new addition to their friend group would be someone from his past

pairing: corpse husband x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“Hey Corpse,” Karl said. Corpse hummed in response, focused on the drawing he was doing for their Jackbox game. “(Y/N) is also from San Diego. Do you know her?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Karl, San Diego is pretty big. We’re not bound to know one another. Besides, just because he lives here doesn’t mean he grew up here.”

“I did grow up in San Diego actually,” Corpse said. “I don’t think we would’ve known each other though. Even if we happened to be in the same area, I didn’t talk to many people and I dropped out in the seventh grade.”

“I was, regrettably, popular in school,” (Y/N) added.

“Regrettably?” Karl asked.

“Yeah. Looking back, I hated being popular. I hated it when I was popular even. My friends were mega jerks and made fun of everyone, even me sometimes. I would try and make them be nice but they just let the popularity go to their heads. I haven’t spoken to any of them since we graduated. There was this sort of outcast in middle school I used to have a crush on. I tried to be friends with him, but he preferred to keep to himself. I always wished I had been friends with him because I feel like I would’ve been so much happier. I never saw him again either. I wonder whatever happened to him.”

Something about her story triggered a memory in Corpse. The year before he dropped out, there was a girl in is class who was always nice to him and tried to talk to him. He brushed it off as another way he was being made fun of. When it kept up, though, he realized she was likely being genuine. He still kept his distance, but he found himself gaining some feelings for her as well. When he dropped out, he never heard from her again.

I wonder where she is now, Corpse thought to himself. Man, what was her name?

Corpse accidentally gasped, drawing the attention of everyone in the Discord call.

“You good Corpse?” George asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Corpse responded. “Just uh...just realized I fucked up my idea a bit. No big deal, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The game started prompting for everyone to show what they had created. Taking the opportunity of not having to speak, Corpse went to Google (Y/N)’s YouTube channel. She had come into the game as a friend of Karl’s and Corpse hadn’t heard of her channel, but now somethings were starting to click together.

The first thing that popped up with the top Google Image for (Y/N)’s channel name. It was a beautiful girl laying in a garden of flowers with a wide smile on her face. Corpse sucked in a breath as he realized that the girl in the picture looked familiar.

“Corpse,” came Karl’s voice, snapping Corpse out of his trance. “It’s your turn.”

“Sorry,” Corpse said. “I was distracted.”

The rest of the stream Corpse felt like he was in a daze. He continued to play the games and forced out laughs when he realized someone was making a joke. Every time (Y/N) spoke, he felt his heart flutter with excitement. He couldn’t believe that after all these years he had finally been reunited with her. And what was better was that she had actually admitted to having feelings for him too!

Don’t get too excited, he thought to himself. She said she used to have a crush on you. That was a very long time ago.

He tried not to seem too eager when the stream finally ended. He waited for someone else to leave the call first before he exited out of it himself. He waited another few minutes before messaging (Y/N) directly on Discord.

hey. it was fun playing with you tonight. weird request, but can we voice call maybe? just the two of us?

Corpse didn’t expect her to respond any time soon. It was late in San Diego, like nearly 3am late. Most people were going to bed by now. She had mentioned once during the stream that she was starting to get sleepy. He figured she’d see it in the morning and either call, or just ignore the message.

To his surprise, near seconds later, she was calling him.

“Hey stranger,” she said when he answered. “Long time, no speak. You must’ve missed my voice a lot, huh?”

Corpse chuckled. “Exactly, I really did.”

“Makes sense. I do have the best voice on the internet.” She laughed this time. It sounded like such a perfect sound. “For real though, is everything alright? Why did you want to call?”

How did he even tell her? Hey, so you know that outcast you liked? It was me! Surprise!

No, he couldn’t say that. Maybe she wouldn’t even remember, or maybe she wouldn’t believe him. He had to figure out some way to bring it up.

“I kind of wanted to talk more about your popular school days,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and teasing. “It’s not every day I meet a streamer who’s in my own area code. It would be nice to get to know someone who isn’t like a five hour drive away.”

“Oh!” She seemed excited by this response. Her excitement was almost contagious. “Okay, where should I start? The shitty friends or the shallow popularity?”

Corpse chuckled. “You pick.”

She talked for nearly an hour about her high school experiences with her popular friend group. Despite how much she despised being popular, (Y/N) still spoke with a light tone in her voice. She tried to bypass a lot of the more negative details and speak only of the good experiences she went though, which was nice to hear.

Corpse nearly jumped with excitement when she began to talk about middle school unprompted.

“It really was the last good years I had in school,” she admitted. “All my friends, the ones who went on to be super popular with me, they were nice then. Annoying, but all middle schoolers are. We didn’t care about popularity or social rankings. We were just...we were just kids. We didn’t even really know the difference between ‘losers’ and ‘popular’, which was why it was so easy for me to talk to that guy that I liked at the time. My friends weren’t mocking me for having feelings for an outcast.”

“You said you never saw that guy again,” Corpse said. “Do you know what happened to him?”

She sighed heavily. “No, I don’t. He just stopped showing up before we hit high school. I thought he moved, but I knew his mom and I saw her around everywhere. I don’t even remember his name anymore to look him up. Wherever he is, though, I hope he’s doing better. Even if they weren’t sucked completely into their popularity at the time, my friends and the other kids were still awful to him.”

“I feel that,” he said. “I wasn’t exactly the most liked kid in school. Before I dropped out I didn’t even have any friends.”

“That’s awful.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I’m not really a friendly person I don’t think. I’ve worked on it since that time, but the thought of trying to maintain a social relationship still gives me anxiety from time to time. There was one girl who tried to be friends with me the year before I dropped out though. She was nice.”

“What happened to her?”

Corpse smiled to himself. She would figure it out soon, he knew she would.

“I just didn’t hear from her after I dropped out,” he responded. “I guess that’s mainly my fault. I never reached out to her or anything, but I barley knew her name. Just her first time, and she never gave me a number or anything. I couldn’t look her up online. Maybe we just weren’t destined to be together.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you two were just right people, wrong time. Maybe you’ll cross paths again and finally have that opportunity to be friends with her again.”

“Maybe you’ll cross paths with that guy from your middle school, too.”

There was a prolonged silence. Corpse wondered if (Y/N) was starting to put the pieces together. He could barley even hear her breathe. The longer she went, the more worried he was becoming. He was about to say something when she finally spoke again.

“I made him a Valentine,” she said, her voice soft. “Special handmade one. He was the only one I gave it to. It had some really badly written, sappy poem in it. I watched him open it and...I really think he got emotional while reading it. Of course, he’d never tell anyone that.”

Corpse had gotten emotional over the Valentine (Y/N) had given him. It was the first real Valentine he had ever gotten. It wasn’t one of the generic ones that everyone gave out to every classmate so no one felt excluded. It was made from the heart, and that fact alone touched his. Like (Y/N) said, though, he didn’t let anyone know how emotional he had gotten. It would’ve just been more mental ammo for them to use to bully him.

He quickly got up from his chair, racing to his room where he had his box of memories shoved in his closet. It was little things from throughout his life that he kept in a shoebox. Whenever he felt particularly down or depressed, he would open the shoebox and look at all the things that made him smile.

At the very top of the box was (Y/N)’s Valentine.

He went back to his computer and took a picture of the Valentine using his phone.

“That sounds really nice,” he said as he went into the Discord app on his voice. “It must’ve meant a lot to him that you put so much time and effort into a handmade gift.”

“I don’t know if it did. I never got to ask him what his reaction was.”

“Oh, I’d bet anything he was happy.”

He sent the picture through Discord and waited for (Y/N) to open it. The silence between them felt deafening. The seconds felt like they had slowed to hours. He wondered what (Y/N)’s reaction would be. Maybe she’d be weirded out by the fact that Corpse kept the Valentine, or by the fact that Corpse was the middle school crush in general.

What if she’s upset that this is who I am now? he asked himself. What if her crush was just a middle school thing, and the moment you dropped out she moved on?

“I knew it.”

Corpse couldn’t help the smile on his face when he heard the slight excitement in (Y/N)’s voice.

“I knew it was you!” she continued. “Well, I didn’t know know, but when you asked me to call you I had a bit of a suspicion. I can’t believe it...it’s actually you!”

“It is me,” he confirmed. “And it’s you.”

“Small world we live in, huh?”

“Yeah, small world.” Do you still like me? Did you ever stop? Do you know that your kindness stuck with me for so long?

The silence returned. Corpse was starting to get sick of it, but he didn’t know how to fill the void between them. When he heard her yawn, he realized how late it had gotten. “I’ll let you go, you sound tired.”

“We just had this breakthrough and you’re asking me to sleep?!”

Corpse chuckled. “You have to sleep eventually, (Y/N). It’s like 3:30am, normal people sleep at this hour.”

“I am offended you would think I’m anywhere near normal.” She yawned again, cutting off her short lived rant. “But you’re right, I am tired. Listen...promise me you’ll answer when I call tomorrow. I...I’d really like to catch up. Maybe...to pick up where we left off.”

“Okay,” Corpse said, then realized that wasn’t really a response. “I promise. I’ll be waiting by the phone the moment I open my peepers.”

(Y/N) giggled. “I’ll be sure to call you the moment I open mine.”

“Goodnight (Y/N). Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight Corpse underscore Husband.”

kind of a bad ending, but i wasn’t really sure where else to go with it as i wrote it. sorry! :(

#corpse husband #corpse husband imagine #corpse #corpse imagine #corpse x reader #request #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic

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spidernerdsblog · 3 years

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Match made in Hell : Chapter Twelve

A/N : Chapter twelve is here. Ah only one more chapter left. Hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think.

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : you always wanted a simple life but to be born as the daughter of a dangerous mobster turned out to be a curse for you. Everything changes when your father gets your lover killed and forcefully marries you off to another mobster as a part of a deal. You hate your father and your husband the only thing you seek is now revenge. Will you ever be able to fall in love again or this burning hatred inside you will consume you?

Warnings : fluff, pregnancy, misogyny, mention of blood, violence, language, missed typos.

SERIES MASTERLIST

“What's wrong?” Vanessa looks at you questioningly.

“I think I might have had skipped for a couple of days,” you admit, scrunching your nose.

“Can you be less vague? Cause I’m not getting it” she deadpans as you scowl at her for not getting your implication.

“Okay so I got shot a month ago I hope you remember that. I was on medication right? Well a lot of medications actually” you half shrug “so with all that going on I may or may not have forgotten to take the pills during that time and we got caught up in the moment at one time and things just happened you know”

“Well you guys are literal horndogs I have no doubt in that” she rolls her eyes “but you need to take the test” she states out to you.

“What? Now?” you looked at her stunned.

“Yes and right now” she stresses on her words.

“But I don't have any test kits at this moment” you mutter

“Then I'll ask someone to get them from the store”

“No! don’t tell anyone especially the boys” you give her a panicked look and Vanessa scoffs.

“OK relax I'll go and get it for you” saying so she left immediately. It took half an hour for Vanessa to make a trip round to the store as you waited for her in your room anxiously.

“Here” she hands you the pregnancy test kit. You nibble on to your bottom lip glancing back and forth between the box and her face.

“C'mon go on” she urged you on. You finally stood up and went inside the bathroom. Closing the door behind you let out a deep sigh taking one last glance at the box before opening it. After reading the instructions carefully you proceeded to do accordingly. When you were done you placed the stick on the marble counter and opened the door for Vanessa to come in.

“Done” you inform her.

“OK, now we wait,” she says, glancing at her watch. Five minutes appeared to be five years for you as you paced back and forth while Vanessa chewed on her nails leaning on the counter in anticipation.

“OK it’s time” she announces and you feel your heartbeat quicken. You took a deep breath and stepped forward to have a look but immediately backed off feeling anxious.

“Oh god I can't look at it” you wrap your arms around yourself.

“What?” Vanessa looks at you puzzled.

“You check it for me please I can’t” you gave her an earnest look.

“You're so dramatic” she rolls her eyes and goes to check the result and falls silent taking the test in hand.

“What? What is it?” you ask impatiently.

“Negative” she answers.

“Negative? Really?” you weren't convinced with the result as you looked at her with doubt in your eyes.

“Yeah” she confirms again.

“Oh that's a relief heh” you chuckle lightly “I told you before only it's just a stomach bug”

“You're upset that it's negative, aren’t you?” Vanessa gives you a knowing look.

“What? No I mean… yeah a little it wouldn't be bad you know but nevermind” you fiddle with your hands fumbling on your words.

“So you wanted a baby?” she raises her eyebrows questioningly.

“I mean yeah I love kids and wouldn't mind one of my own specially if it’s a cute little version of my husband running around the house on his little feet” you expressed your little desire.

“You sure?” she reasserts, raising her eyebrows as the corner of her mouth picks into a smile.

“Yeah but it doesn't matter anyways cause the test is negative as you said” you shrugged letting off the thought.

“Well then good news sissy it's actually positive” Vanessa smiles at you widely and you were taken aback.

“What?! You serious?” she nods, holding out the stick in front of you to see it yourself.

“Oh my god you bitch!” you gasp “who's dramatic now huh?” you scowl, hitting her arm lightly.

“Ow! At least I helped you figure out what you actually feel about the whole thing” she places her hands on your shoulders “congratulations sister you’re gonna have a baby!”

“I’m gonna have a baby” you repeat that to yourself. You still couldn’t believe that this was happening as you placed a hand gently over your stomach

“And I'm going to be an aunt. I’m so happy for you guys” she hugs you tightly but soon your face drops as you pull away from her with a worried expression.

“What happened? Why again the gloomy face?” Vanessa nudges you.

“I don’t want my baby to be part of this bloodshed. I have been trying to run away from this and here I’m again pushing my child right into that same hell hole” you rant with tears in your eyes.

“I think you need to first talk to Tom and then make a decision. You understand?” you nod “everything will be fine don’t worry” she pulls you in her embrace comforting you.

It was almost a week that you got to know you were pregnant but still you couldn’t break the news to Tom, you just didn’t have the nerves to do it yet.

****

You stood by the mirror glancing at your reflection though there wasn’t a visible bump but you still rubbed your hand over your belly. The thought of a life growing inside made your heart swell with warmth. Somehow you felt more livelier than you have ever been a certain glow emanating through your features. Maybe this is what people meant by pregnancy glow. You felt happy and content from inside out, you felt complete as if you had found the missing piece of your life. But you still had to tell Tom and the only person you could think of for some advice was your mom as you finally called her.

“Hi sweetie” your mother’s sweet voice comes from the other end.

“Hey mom”

“So what reminds my daughter about her old mother?” she snickers.

“Mom! you really think that I called for another favor” you grimace.

“Well you don't call much for me to think otherwise”

“C'mon mom you know my situation with dad”

“Yeah, yeah I'm just messing with you now, what’s the matter? you sound stressed” she observed.

“I... just really miss you” you sigh

“Sweetie, is everything alright?” she asks with concern.

“Yeah just wanted to hear your voice that’s all”

“I'm your mother Y/N, I can totally feel that something is bothering my little girl?”

“Mom, can I ask you something?” you say taking a deep breath.

“Anything honey”

“Were you scared when you first came to know that you were pregnant with me?”

“What?”

“I mean to say that I was totally unplanned and for my sake you had to marry that man so were you scared thinking about what your future will be in a crime family?”

“Well honestly I had little choice in that matter. I was stuck in the middle of the rivalry so in order to keep you safe I married him. But honey the day I held you in my arms all my fears went away. The only thing I know is that I can spend the rest of my life looking at you. You were never a mistake you were the best gift given to me”

“That's nice to hear” you smile

“But why after so many years you are bringing this up?”

“Nothing I just have somethings in my mind going on right now and it feels a lot” you try to shrug it off.

“Sweetie, what are you hiding from me?” she prods.

“Nothing mom I swear!” you exclaim.

“I know very well what this ‘nothing mom’ means c'mon tell me”

“Well I'm pregnant” you inform as you hear her gasp.

“What?! Oh my god I can't believe my ears, is this really true? This isn’t a prank right? Like you used to do when you were little”

“No mom it isn’t a prank” you reassure her lightly chuckling.

“Oh god I'm so happy for you honey. My little girl is going to be a mom herself? When did she grow so big?” she shrieks eyes welling up in happiness “Does Tom know?”

“Not yet” you inform.

“Not yet? Why what's wrong? Does he not want it?”

“No it’s nothing like that… actually I myself don’t know. This just happened so suddenly though I was thrilled initially but now I’m worried actually scared I-I don't think I will be a good mother. I mean my life is already a mess. I don't want to give this life to my child. They don't deserve this”

“Listen to me Y/N no one is perfect even I made mistakes too and that’s how we learn. How much ever you want to plan your life Y/N, it will always have a way of surprising you with unexpected things that will make you happier than you originally planned” she makes you understand “Tom is a nice guy I’m sure he’ll always be by your side. And I know my girl too and how much strong she is you have got this Y/N just believe in yourself and Tom”

“Thanks mom really needed to hear this from you”

“Anytime honey now take some rest and then tell everything to Tom, speak to you soon, love you”

“Love you too mom” you end the call feeling lighthearted as if a weight has been lifted off your chest. You grew up in a very dysfunctional family which made you yearn for a perfect happy family and when you have finally got it you’re not going to let anything mess it up at any cost.

****

The basement of your mansion was kind of Tom’s personal hell. He had particularly made it to held people captive for whoever dared to cross him and torture them to death. You were actually never allowed down there but today you got to join him. As you approached the room in the basement you heard screams and groans of a man in pain. Tom opened the door and you both stepped inside to find Ethan tied up in a chair beaten mercilessly barely conscious groaning in pain. His body was pale and face bruised with a black eye, nose bleeding, jaw swollen from the right temple down the cheek. Harrison was standing in front of him in a black tank top and jeans all worked up heaving in anger as you noticed his bloody knuckles. Two other lackeys were also present to help him with the interrogation.

“Haz anything so far?” Tom asks, lighting up a cigarette.

“Nothing till now this bastard won't speak up” he mutters, grabbing a fistful of Ethan’s silky black hair and tugging it harshly. Tom stalks towards him and bents down blowing the smoke on his face

“Well mate you have to speak up some or the other time” he smirks with a condescending tone.

“Over my dead body” Ethan grits under his teeth glaring at him.

“Sooner or later you are gonna end up dead anyways but not before you tell us everything you know about the rest of the viper gang”

“You think you can torture me to disclose everything” he snickers weakly “nah you have got the wrong man dude. You gotta do lot more than this”

“You know what Ethan? I'm not good with patience so the sooner you speak up the sooner you get your sweet death”

“And I think I’ve got the time of the world” he laughs tauntingly “why don’t you ask your wife to do it? Maybe she can seduce everything out of me like the pathetic whore she is” he slurs at you with a mocking tone. Tom clenches his jaw as his hands balled into tight fists and in no time he lands a punch right at his jugular as he coughs up blood.

“Watch your bloody mouth!” Tom growls, grabbing him by his collar “you really don’t know how tempted I am to cut you into pieces one by one as I watch you slowly bleed to death” he mutters, looking at him with malice in his eyes.

The scene in front of you wasn’t that pleasant though you’re used to it but with the raging pregnancy hormones everything seemed heightened for you. The room began to feel stuffy as you found it difficult to breathe adding to that the raunchy putrid smell of blood mixed with the smell of nicotine in the room swept through your nose which made your stomach churn and you tasted bile. The urge to throw up grew strong for you to hold it any longer. You grabbed your mouth, letting out a muffled "excuse me" you ran upstairs to your room.

“Y/N?” Tom lets go of Ethan and calls you back worriedly as everyone’s attention turns to you.

“You go check I can handle this” Harrison assures exchanging glances with Tom as he nodded and sprinted off to your bedroom. He finds the bathroom locked as he hears gagging noises from inside.

“Y/N, love you alright?” He knocks on the door

“Yeah I'm fine” you answer before throwing up again. When you were sure that there’s nothing left for you to throw up you stepped out of the bathroom face flushed and exhausted. Tom hastily went to hold your hand.

“Oh my god are you ok?” he gasps lightly

“Yes Tom I’m fine don’t worry” you tell him

“You don't look fine to me” he drapes a hand around your shoulders and slowly walks you towards the bed and makes you sit down.

“Tom it's ok”

“Y/N we need to go see a doctor now” he insists.

“No, no it’s fine a little rest will be enough for me”

“I’m not listening to anything, wait I-I’m calling the doctor at home only” he fumbles pulling out his phone from his pocket to make a call.

“Tom, relax! It's totally normal in the first months of pregnancy” you exclaim

“What?!” Tom frowns as your eyes go wide realizing your slip up “Did you just say pregnancy?” he reiterates.

“Yes” you sigh standing up “I'm pregnant….with our child” you reveal placing your hand over your belly and Tom’s expression changed into a mix of shock and happiness.

“What? You're serious? You-you aren't kidding right?”

“Do I seem to be in the state of joking?” you raise your eyebrows unamused.

“Yeah, yeah right” he mumbles to himself as he processes the news and soon after excitement takes over him “Oh god Y/N this is such great news!” He lifts you up and does a little spin.

“Oh my god Tom put me down!” you squeal

“Oh I’m sorry” he puts you down “I’m just so excited. When did you get to know?”

“A week ago” you said meekly.

“And you didn't tell me? Why?” you felt a little intimidated under his questioning gaze. Even before you could say something he made his own assumption.

“Wait, you don't want this, is that why?” he looks at you with dreaded eyes

“No, No, no that's not what it is?” you shake your head vigorously in disapproval “you have got it all wrong”

“Then what is it Y/N?” he asks you softly.

“It's actually the opposite. I was just scared as it was totally unplanned and with all this going on with my father you are already tensed. I wasn’t sure how you would react” you rambled.

“Oh darling” he breathes out cupping your face gently with his broad hands “you don't know today you have made me the happiest man on this fucking world. This is everything I wanted honey. You, me and our perfect little happy family” you smiled at him as he carefully placed his hands on your belly.

“How far are you? Is everything normal? Are you both ok?” he badgered you with questions.

“I... actually thought you would come with me on my first checkup” you looked at him bashfully “it's-it's just I wanted you to be there with me if you aren't too busy”

“Of course love, no work is more important than you and my little one” he beams with joy. Tom didn’t waste a second to call at the hospital to schedule your appointment.

“Mr. and Mrs. Holland” the nurse calls out

“Yes?” you both respond standing up from your seats.

“Dr. Martin is ready to see you” she informs and leads you inside the room.

“Please lie down” she instructs and you follow by lying down on the examination chair while Tom sits on the chair beside you. The nurse then leaves the room and soon after the doctor arrives. She was a middle aged woman and looked quite experienced as she greeted you warmly.

“Hello Mrs. Holland, I’m Dr. Martin”

“Hello doctor” you smiled courteously.

“So how are you feeling today?”

“I feel fine, doctor, just a little bit tired...” you were quickly cut off by Tom

“No doctor she got really sick and nauseous the other day” he puts forth his concern.

“Morning sickness is normal at this time Mr. Holland. There’s nothing to worry about” she reassures him.

“See?” you whisper with a knowing glare. Tom still wasn’t convinced but let it go for now.

“Ready to have a first look at your baby?” she asks cheerfully as you nod, lifting your shirt up. She rubbed the cool gel on your lower stomach while Tom held your hand tightly. Then she switches the monitor on and runs the tool on your belly. A hazy black and white image appears on the screen as the room fills with the rhythmic beeping of heartbeat. You and Tom stare at the monitor in awe.

“You see right here?” the doctor points at the middle of the screen with a pen.

“Awww that's our baby” you squeeze Tom's hand gently, a stray tear of joy rolls down your cheek. Tom was himself brimming with emotions, he knelt down and kissed your forehead with adoration as you noticed London’s most feared mobster’s eyes wet.

“I can already pick the heartbeats” she reveals further as you both give her a puzzled look.

“Heartbeats? As in plural” Tom asked in shock.

“Yeah two heartbeats” she confirms “you're going to have twins Mrs. Holland” she adds. You gasped and smiled instantly feeling giddy and overwhelmed at the news.

“We're gonna have twins” you looked up at him with a sparkle in your eyes.

“Yes we are, love” a wide smile spread across his face “you gotta admit I did a really good job in there though” he whispers cockily and there he was back again in his usual self.

“Tom!” you glared, squeezing his hand tightly.

“Ow! Sorry, sorry” he chuckles when you both were interrupted as Dr Martin began to speak again.

“You are approximately 8 weeks and all parameters seem to be normal. The babies are growing fine, nothing to worry about. After 10 weeks we can identify the genders” she elucidates “But you have to be extra careful as you are a new mom and with twins. Everything will be doubled for you so maintaining a proper diet, getting a good amount of sleep is very important. No heavy lifting and most importantly no stress at all as it directly affects the babies. The expectant mother should always be happy” she advises.

“We’ll keep that in mind doc thank you so much” Tom acknowledges her.

“Well then I’ll see you on your next check up. Do you want the prints of the ultrasound?”

“Yes please” you both said together.

“Ok I’ll get it right away”

On the way back home the whole ride Tom kept rambling about how everything needed to be baby proofed and keep everything ready as if you are going to labor tomorrow itself. He even suggested that he shift your bedroom downstairs so that you don’t have to climb up the stairs. You had to literally ask him to shut up and relax that you have seven more months to go.

****

You were about to get off the bed when Tom came in with a huge tray of food.

“Good morning love” he went and sat in front placing the tray on his lap as you looked at the amount of food which was double than you usually have.

“What's all this Tom?” you ask frowning.

“Breakfast in bed”

“I can see that but is this a breakfast for a giant? What's with these enormous portions?” you pointed out.

“If I may remind you, you are now eating for three so you have to eat accordingly”

“In no way I'm going to eat that much” you stated firmly

“But darling…”

“Nope, not happening. I said no means no” you shake your head side to side “I don’t want to get fat because after a few I’m gonna be all big and round anyways and then you wouldn't look at me” your hormones getting the best of your insecurities as you rambled without much thinking.

“Hey look at me” he holds your chin between his index and thumb fingers making you look at him “you seriously think that? You. will. always. be. the prettiest woman for me do you understand?” he asks as you nod “I bet you are going to be the most beautiful mom. Our kids are lucky to have a fearless, confident woman like you as their mother” he says looking deep into your eyes “and I can’t wait to see you all big and round” he adds smiling.

“But I’m still not gonna eat all of it”

“Ok you can eat as much you can no pressure” he assures you as you take the fruit bowl in your hand and start to munch on the fruits one by one going into a deep thought.

“Now what is going on in that mind of yours?” he asks breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I think we should tell everyone I mean your mom and dad then the boys they would be thrilled to know”

“So you wanna invite them over lunch?” he offers.

“Yeah that will be really nice”

****

Tom’s family arrived on time, after lunch all of you gathered in the living room as you and Tom stood in the middle. Everyone looked at you both expectantly though Tom’s dad had a disinterested look like all times.

“Sorry for the short notice but this was kind of important and we were really excited to share this news with you” you started.

“Did the police catch your father?” Harry asks out of nowhere

“That would have been really nice but unfortunately no”

“Then what is it?” Harrison asks impatiently.

“Well….we’re pregnant” you both announce.

“What?!” everyone collectively gasped.

“Is it true?” Nikki looked between you two

“Yes mum” Tom confirms bashfully wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Oh my god this is such good news” she gets up to you and takes your hands in hers “I’m so happy for you” she cradles the side of your face lovingly.

“Finally I'm going to get to see the face of my grandson, my heir. That's some good news after all huh” Tom’s dad remarks with gruff in his voice as Nikki looks at you apologetically.

“Actually dad, we're going to have twins,” Tom added.

“Well that’s good, can't wait to meet my grandsons as they’re going to take over our business in future” he said still emphasizing on having a son and honestly neither you nor Tom wanted your twins to join the mob.

“Oh dear now that’s something big” Nikki tries to lighten the mood “I remember when I was with Harry and Sam it was a lot of cravings and mood swings get ready for it Tom” she snickers as she starts to give you some helpful tips to make everything a little easier for you as this is your first time.

“Congratulations bro” Harrison goes and hugs Tom tightly.

“Thanks man”

“So I’m gonna be the godfather I assume?” he asks.

“Well we’re yet to decide that” Tom snickers.

“What? C’mon man I’m your best friend and I’m going to be the godfather, that’s final. I know Y/N is still angry at me which by the way is your fault but I’ll manage her” he states confidently

“Good luck with that,” Tom laughs. Everyone left after sometime leaving you both all by yourselves in your house. Tom turns to smiling.

“What?” you ask.

“Close your eyes,” he says.

“Why?” you look at him skeptically

“You still don’t trust me don’t you?”

“No” you quip with a smirk.

“Just close your eyes please I have something to show to you” he pouts with puppy eyes

“Okay” you close your eyes “happy?”

“Yes now come with me”

“Where are you taking me?” you ask again.

“You’ll see soon” he takes your hand and carefully guides you up the stairs. He brings you in front of a room with a large wooden door and slowly clicks the door open.

“Now open your eyes” he whispers softly into your ears. You flutter your eyes open to be awestruck as you look inside the room. It was a nursery for your twins. You looked at everything with wide eyes, two twin cribs situated in the middle with cute plushies in it, the walls painted in soft pastel gender neutral shades, the lighting of the room well coordinated making it look warm and cozy. An armchair for you to take rest.

“How is it?” Tom's voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Tom, it’s-it’s beautiful” you breathe out “but when did you?” you looked at him quizzical

“Well as soon as you told me I called in some favors and had this room renovated” he reveals to you.

“It's-it's really beautiful Tom” you walked further into the room towards the cribs. Brushing your hand over the wooden railings you picked up the baby towel and rubbed it against your cheek feeling the soft texture.

“Sorry I don't have much idea about all this stuff, I just tried my best to make it as comfortable for you three. If you want anything else just tell me I'll get it done” he says scratching the back of his neck.

“Tom, it's perfect. You did a great job. I love it” you take his hand and place it over your belly “and they are gonna love it too” you reassure him.

“I installed a music system too” he adds, turning on the music as he wraps his hands around your waist and sways gently to the music “it's said that listening to calming music helps during this time”

“Someone has been busy reading I see” you tease.

“Well I just want to be there for you guys” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Aww where did this softy come from? What did you do to my terrifying ruthless mobster husband?” you joke laughing.

“Haha very funny” he scoffs when you finally notice the lyrics of the song.

“Is this our wedding song?” you ask with a knowing smile.

“Yep”

I know you haven't made your mind up yet But I would never do you wrong I've known it from the moment that we met No doubt in my mind where you belong

“Did I ever tell you how bloody gorgeous you looked that day? Just like an angel from the heavens”

“Oh shut up!” you blushed, hitting his chest playfully.

“What? I’m serious” he laughs “couldn’t take my eyes off you”

“Well you didn’t look bad either” you snicker resting your head on his chest “that was such a long time ago isn’t it?”

“Hmm” he hums

“If anybody had told me that we will end up like this I would have never believed it at all” you chuckle at the memories of the numerous heated arguments you had with each other. But now you find solace in each other's arms.

“We have come a long way” he sighs as you feel him tense under you. Something was still bothering him, you knew it for sure.

“Wanna sit down?” you posed

“No it’s fine I’m not tired”

“Well I am pregnant with twins you know heh” he lets go of you and you go and sit on the floor near the cribs back resting against them. You pat on the empty spot beside you urging him to sit down too. He comes and sits down tilting his head on your shoulder as you run your fingers through his soft brown curls.

“I needed to say something to you” he finally lets out.

“Go on I’m listening”

“Don't mind my dad's words I don't care if they are girls or boys I just want you three to be healthy and safe” he says as you go to kiss his forehead lovingly “If you ask me personally I would be thrilled to have two mini Y/Ns” he add.

“Careful what you wish for Mr. Holland you don’t want thrice the trouble do you?” you chuckle.

“Gladly Mrs. Holland” he laughs before turning all gloomy again “do you think they would like me?”

“You are their father Tom they would always love you”

“But what if they don't? What if they hate me when they come to what kind of man their dad is and everything he has done in his life?” he rambles.

“Tom as the eldest son you didn't have a choice they would surely understand” you try your best to make him understand.

“I don't know Y/N, you know my dad wasn't that present for us. It was just us and mum. And when time came all of a sudden I was accompanying him killing people and beating them to death. I want to change that I want to be there for them, for you in every step of your life and most importantly I don’t want that life for them” he rants out.

“Honey, you wanting to do things right has already made you the best father in the world. They are gonna be so proud of their daddy” you cradle his face affectionately.

“You know what, I'm going to stop doing all the illegal trades” he blurts out.

“What do you mean?” you frown at him.

“Means no more shark loaning, extortion, gambling, contract killing everything, everything that's against the laws. I have already made a lot of enemies” he places a hand on your stomach “and I'm not gonna let them inherit this curse too. I need to cut off my ties with the underworld”

“But what about your dad I don't think he would agree with and your brothers then Harrison?”

“Dad will be angry I'm sure of that but Harrison, Sam and Harry would understand. I want to make sure that you all are safe and no more hiding skeletons in the closet” he gives you a determined look as you smile.

“Do whatever is necessary I'll always be there by your side cause I love you”

“I love you too” he says back as your lips meet softly into a chaste kiss.

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true Nothing that I wouldn't do Go to the ends of the Earth for you To make you feel my love To make you feel my love

****

You woke up the next morning hearing some commotion outside your room. You could hear Tom yelling at his men judging by the tone he was furious.

“What?!” he was shocked “how did this happen?! And what were you morons doing at that time?!”

“Sir-sir” the men stuttered in fear.

“I don't want to hear a fucking word from your mouths! Go and find him now or I'll kill you” he threatens “now get out of my sight!” meanwhile, you slip off the bed and put on your robe before stepping out of your room.

“Tom is everything alright” you ask with a worried expression.

“Oh I'm sorry darling did I wake you up? It’s nothing, go back to sleep there will be no more disturbance” he pretends to act like everything is ok.

“Tom, stop lying, what is it? What has happened?” you enquire.

“Nothing darling I promise” he tries his best to convince you but you weren’t buying any of it.

“You're not gonna tell me? fine! I'll go and find out myself” you glower at him.

“Y/N no wait you” he stops you, catching hold of your hand.

“Then tell me what it is?” you demand with a serious look on your face.

“Ethan escaped”

..................................................................................

Taglist in bio.

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #mob! tom holland #mob! tom

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

Beach Proposal ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 1.3K

GENRE: cute, fluffy, proposal, lifeguard Jungkook

PAIRING: Lifeguard!Jungkook x lifeguard!Reader

A/N: I hope that this is alright for you my love, I know its a little short I’m sorry!

Being a lifeguard meant learning to live with the fact that people were going to flirt with you and your boyfriend at all hours of the day. Normally it wouldn't bother you so much but lately, it had begun to get to you. Instead of telling them that he had you, he would playfully flirt back and forth with them. You knew it meant nothing to Jungkook but for some reason, it was a big deal to you.

"What's up sugar plum?" You glanced over your shoulder to see one of the other lifeguards standing behind your chair. It was hard to miss his thick Australian accent,

"Nothing choppo. What's going on on the beach?" You questioned looking around at a group of people all crowding around something. You were stuck in the watchtower all day with Jethro and Harris while the rest of them patrolled the beach. There weren't that many of you but just enough so that everyone on the beach was protected if anything happened.

"Jungkook took off his shirt and showed his new tattoos," Jethro laughed as he stared through his binoculars over at the crowd,

"Of course he did." You mumbled keeping your eyes on the water in case something happened but the boys knew it was bothering you. It had been something up for discussion a lot whenever Jungkook wasn't around, even though most of the guys were taken or married they still flirted playfully. They never saw the big deal with it but you did and you were sure that their partners would if they heard about it too.

"You need to chill babe, you know he only has eyes for you." Jethro teased as he pushed your chair with his foot, you stared at him and up at his shoulder.

"Do you want me to pop it out of place?" You teased rolling your eyes at him before going back to the ocean. It was only last week that Jethro had popped his own shoulder out of place and was laid up in the tower with you. The only reason you had been stuck up there for the last week was a punishment from your boss, he figured you could use it after disobeying his orders about going in the water. The rules were fairly simple, if there was a rescue mission someone always had to stay in the tower to keep an eye on things and you didn't. You'd seen someone else in danger and rushed out to help them instead of doing as you were told, resulting in your punishment.

"I'm tapping out Rapunzel," Cappo said as he began to do his time card, it was getting close to the beach closing anyway. Once it hit 8 at night no one was supposed to go onto the beach or into the water. Since there were no lifeguards around but it didn't stop many people from doing it anyway.

"You're on lock up tonight, come and meet us at the bar though?" Harris asked as he got up from his chair and looked at you, it was five minutes until shut down time and you had the fun task of getting everyone off the beach.

"Might go home, I'm tired." You lied as you got up and headed out of the tower, hoping that Jungkook would help you get everyone off the beach.

The two of you had been together since you were in college, one of the longest relationships you'd ever had and you were head over heels with one another.

"Kookie! Make sure you get everyone out of the whirlpool too," You called down the radio as you made your way up and down the beach to make sure no one was around. Normally people would wait to sneak back on until all of the lifeguards had left by which time it wasn't your problem anymore and they had to deal with their own mistakes.

"I know, I'm heading up there now. I'll check and head to the bar." The radio cut out and you sighed, why would he want to leave without you? Normally the two of you would head to the bar together but you said nothing and headed up to the end of the beach.

Besides the usual drunk, there was no one on the beach for miles so you began taking all of the flags in and making sure there was nothing left out that needed to be put away.

"Harris, just shutting off the main lights. I'll lock and post the keys." You spoke down the phone to Harris's voicemail and hung up, grabbing your bag before heading out of the door. All you wanted to do was get home and crawl into bed to get some sleep, there was something about the sea air that made everyone sleepier than usual. There was always some kind of myth as to why it made people more tired than usual but it was all science, something to do with the Sea air is charged with healthy negative ions that accelerate our ability to absorb oxygen.

As you were about to head off the beach something in the corner of your eye flickered and you frowned. A flame? Who would be having a fire on the beach this late at night? Slowly heading down from the tower you almost dropped your bag onto the floor seeing Jungkook standing there. Surrounded by small glass jars with candles inside of them, being protected from the wind so that it was still romantic.

"Jungkook?" You laughed awkwardly as he looked over at you, smiling and beckoning you to move toward him.

"What's all of this?" You quizzed as you got closer to him, looking down at a blanket that he was standing on and then around him. You were pretty sure you hadn't missed an anniversary or a birthday.

"I wanted to do something special," He whispered as he stood in front of you, shaking a little as he thought about what he was about to do. Something he had been planning for a while now and had been nervous about it since the moment it happened.

"Jungkook? You're shivering, is something-" You stopped when he suddenly got down onto one knee, looking up at you as he held your hand in his.

"I have loved you since we started dating...I fall more and more in love with you every day. Every day I thank the universe for allowing me to wake up next to you, to be together with you every day of my life from now until I die." Tearing up you looked at him as he began to stumble over his words, tears running down his cheeks a little as he said everything he'd been meaning to say all week.

"I know I annoy you with the flirting and trust me it all stops now but I just...I love you and I can't even imagine my life without you Y/n." It was now that you noticed Jethro and Harris were standing up at the watchtower with their cameras out, watching you both.

"Will you, Y/n Y/l/n, do me the honour of becoming my wife?" You knelt down onto the floor in front of him, taking his face in your hands as you both sobbed.

"Of course Jungkook," You breathed out, kissing him over and over again until you both fell back onto the blanket. Making out as he struggled to pull the ring out from his pocket. Leaving the boys watching you in a fit of laughter before you stuck up your middle finger at them.

"Let's go home, to celebrate," You whined as Jungkook placed the ring onto your finger while he chuckled at you, shaking his head.

"I have to clean up and they want us at the bar," You pulled him closer to you, whispering in his ear all of the things you wanted to do when you got back to your shared apartment and you'd never seen him move so fast. Rushing to blow out all of the candles and clean everything up.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix @misa0000

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagine #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines

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mminttae · 3 years

Text

Clandestine | 02

-> Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x reader

-> Genre : tattoo!artist Jungkook, mafia! JJK,mafia au, bloody!missions, slight violence, got secrets they can't tell, angst, romance, Jungkook's part time job is flirting, sad (backstory), Y/N is strong!

-> Summary : who would have known that just doing a part time job at a night club would lead you to the tattoo artist Jeon Jungkook's messed up world. One letter related to the secret comes out of your mouth you'll be laying in Jungkook's arms but alive or not, that's not guaranteed...

-> Word Count : 4.286 K ( A/N: I’m increasing words )

-> T/W body language, killing, curse words and intimacy are included in the story (you may read if you're comfortable with these)

Part : 2

<< previous chap

.・゜-: ✧ :-playlist -: ✧ :-゜・．

Jungkook's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Even if me saying that line didn't flatten him enough I knew the nickname did as it always have been doing. It was clearly visible that he didn't expect me to be this bold suddenly. But he being himself smirked after a couple of seconds as his hand snaked up to grab my wrist pulling me more closer "Sure princess.. Do you want to go to the trip now? " His tongue rolling over his bottom lip as his piercing doe eyes holding so many thoughts looked at my lips then to my eyes.

"I don't want to interrupt but the trip has to be postponed "Jimin interferes in the moment, his eyes narrowed and only looking at me as if scared that the younger guy would throw him out if he locked eyes with his. Making a 'tch' sound Jungkook raises his eyebrows at Jimin in a manner that reads he's asking why postpone. I yeet his hand which was holding my wrist and get off from the table clearing my throat while fixing the skirt and apron. Jungkook clearly disappointed for not being able to hear my answer gets up from the seat while putting the black leather jacket around his shoulders. Jimin and Taehyung following him gets up too grabbing their bags. Jungkook walked up to me while fixing his bangs with his index finger.

"Gotta go princess a client's waiting" Nodding I proceeded to walk away but I could hear Jungkook saying with a sad dramatic tone. "Atleast act that you don't want me to go". I'm afraid I won't be able to because I myself don't know what this client of yours gonna do if you don't go on time. Is the person waiting even a client or not? Knitting my eyebrows I look back only to meet with strangers taking up the seat. The three tall mesmerizing men with inks on their body not to be seen anywhere. I don't know what's going on in that foolish yet extremely clever brain of yours but...

Be careful Mr. Artbook..

End of YOUR POV

Mid summer yet the night breeze is able to run shivers down your spine. Not a single soul in sight.

10 at night maybe the shopkeepers closed down the shutters and went to bed. Not many shops here in this area to even begin with. The only workshop's bell which rings here is the Jeon's Tattoo corner which has been ringing from the morning today , seemed to have stopped in the evening but now making its sound again. "Argh I should really break down this bell "

With an annoyed expression the black haired guy opens the drawers searching for a fresh towel. The tall man who just entered the shop walked past the desk table, turning the door knob and allowing himself inside the cozy room. His loud footsteps on the wooden floor telling Jungkook that the guest has arrived.

"Where were you? I waited here for five minutes then went inside the nearby plant store to kill time"

Taking off the long coat the tall silver haired guy walks up to the chair positioned in the middle of the room beside the various tools. "Sorry hyung, Taehyung and Jimin wanted a new tattoo so went to hear out their designs"

Jungkook says, eyebrows knitted while he fishes out the stencil of the beautiful clematis he has drawn beforehand of the leader's arrival. Smiling to himself he walks up to the seated boss whose like a big brother to him, he puts the stencil aside. Taking out a black rubber band from his pocket he takes his hair and ties it up to a small ponytail before taking out a drawer full of tattoo needles and inks. "Heard that Yoongi started boxing classes with you"

The older male speaks as his lip corners slowly moves upwards. Jungkook giving out a laugh says, "Yea Yoongi hyung be moving like a turtle. "

The thought of his hyung boxing and whining that it's hard is enough to make the little one giggle. Taking out a small wooden stool with one hand as the other one was holding the tattoo gun, Jungkook sits himself beside the strong looking man who rolls up his shirt's sleeves revealing all the different type of arts and words of different languages tattooed on his arm.

"Need chewing gum?"

The younger one asks at the thought that it might hurt but the older one replies plainly that he's fine after all his skin had been coming in contact with this gun for a long time now. Jungkook nods before resting the needle on the free space on the top of the man's biceps before starting to draw on it, the awestrucking clematis. "Was thinking of getting a lip piercing but not being able to get it cuz of the adults in the house"

The man says while his dimples makes visits to his cheeks.

"The exact same reason why am postponing on getting an eyebrow piercing"

Jungkook replies as he carefully moves the tattoo gun sideways on the man's bicep.

"So when are you planning on telling your sister?"

He asks as the silver haired guy closes his eyes once realizing what Jungkook meant.

"When the time's right.. "

He replies, slowly opening his eyes his gaze meeting the ceiling.

"But first we need to pinpoint Mr. Choi's location"

Replying with a small and quiet yes Jungkook draws the details on the flower carefully.

"Seokjin has been checking the cctvs regularly and the only thing he found was the black hyundai stopping at a night club at exactly 7pm every Tuesday and Wednesday"

"What's the night club's name? "

Jungkook asks as he draws on the small leaves.

"Hell's night club"

With just the mention of the night club's name Jungkook's hand stops moving as his eyes widened. "Isn't that the club you often visit with the others? "

The silver haired man asks making Jungkook quietly nod his head. If the most feared mafia in the country slash his team's biggest rival had been going to the exact same club at the exact same time as his how come he never saw the familiar old man's face? He thought.

What kind of person does the man disguise him as that even Jimin who encountered him multiple times doesn't notice. "You should be careful and try to see your clients faces carefully and see if they match that old fart's face or not"

Jungkook humming a response continued on giving the clematis it's final touch. Finishing the tattoo he removes the gun making the silver haired man sit up straight and fix his shirt.

"You know what to do right?"

Jungkook asks referring to putting on Vaseline ointment on the tattoo and stuffs. The older guy nods while fetching his coat. "I'll get going then. Thanks for the tattoo kook"

Jungkook simply nods his mind stuck in a different topic. Putting the equipments away and tidying up the towels as the older guy leaves the shop and disappears into the darkness of the night in the empty alleyway, Jungkook couldn't help but think about what you were up to. His mind stitching up different negative thoughts together.

"If Mr. Choi is really going to that club then he must have seen Y/N always talking to us..... What if he does something to her? " Jungkook asks to himself and the next thing he does is take his bag, turn off the lights, lock the doors and run off to meet you.

• -

"I'll be off then"

Bowing politely you take hold of the two big disposable bags and huff out a breathe when you realize how heavy both of them were. Kicking the back staff door with your leg open the first thing you see is Jeon Jungkook leaning on the wall infront. His hair tied up in a small ponytail, a bag hung around his shoulder and inked hands resting inside his jeans pockets. His eyes falls on your hands holding the disposable garbage bags, sighing he walks up to you.

"I thought your job was to serve and take orders not bring out garbages" You looked down at the bags in your hands while saying, "I was coming out anyways it's no biggie"

You flashed him a small smile but his eyes looked worried and his face tensed. You wondered what happened but didn't dare to ask thinking that he will only answer with 'none of your business' . Yes Jeon Jungkook unknowingly says harsh things without thinking when he's tensed. Jungkook takes the garbage bags from your hands and put it beside the door when his eyes lands on your right hand which was bandaged. His eyes widen and he quickly took your right hand examining it while asking

"How did this happen? Are you okay? "

Embarrassed you put your hand away from his warm ones and answer while smiling, not making eye contact

"It's okay I'm fine these kind of injuries are meant to happen if you work in a bar." Jungkook not convinced took your hand again now keeping it infront of him not letting you pull it back. His eyebrows knitted . "You were totally fine this evening tell me what happened". Chewing on your bottom lip you look down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

"Y/N tell me what happened.." Jungkook says once again this time his voice laced with concern as his hands caressed your hair. You were actually a bit taken aback at how the always dominant voice of Jungkook is making its way to you in a concerned and soft way.

"A drunk guy harshly pulled my hand wanting me to sit beside him but I fought back and he suddenly let go of me making me loose my balance at hit the edge of the glass table behind and that's how I got this"

You say while looking at your bandaged hand which was now resting in jungkook's warm palm. He softly held your injured hand and lower down a bit to meet your height. Looking at your eyes he said

"Tell me who did this. Tell me who did this to you I'm gonna fucking kill him"

In a calm soft voice but the last part obviously didn't come out in a soft way. You laughed and pushed him a bit away from you. "It's okay am fine don't overreact he was drunk" But Jungkook not buying the answer walked closer to you and again with a serious tone asked you . "Tell me how he looked like"

Knowing that he won't let go of the topic unless you give him a proper answer you sigh, rolling your eyes while describing the drunk man you happened to meet inside the club. "He had small eyes , a sharp nose and dark stubble on his face and.." You trailed off thinking what else did the man have but Jungkook interrupted asking in a quick manner

"Did he have any sort of tattoo on his wrist? " Replaying the moment inside your head you widen your eyes a bit and nod your head, "Yea he did.. Was that a crown? A crown maybe"

Exactly knowing who that drunk man you encountered was Jungkook's chest sank at the thought that the old man touched you with his dirty hands. Gulping down the saliva that formed in his mouth he without thinking pulled you to his chest engulfing you in a hug. He wasn't sure why he felt like protecting you but he wanted to . He wasn't supposed to feel this way now that he set his mind on the plan his brain made up on the way here but..he did. He wanted to make sure you were safe.

Widening your eyes at how Jungkook suddenly hugged you, your mind went blank. There's no doubt in how fast your heart was beating. To be honest to yourself you were actually frightened when that man tried touching you in an ill manner but now being in Jungkook's arms you felt safe. You felt safe when he was around. Jungkook's arms around you got tighter as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck.

So this is how you gonna play it Mr. Choi

He thinks.

•-

Flashback 5 weeks back

Stretching your arms you give out a small yawn before grabbing the books from the table and making your way out of the auditorium. Walking while looking at your surroundings you didn't notice the tall man standing infront of you. Too immersed in the same old paintings hanging on the walls you hit something hard making the copies and books in your hands fall down. Without looking up at the person you bumped into you quickly said 'sorry' while kneeling down to pick up your supplies. The tall gentleman kneeled down too helping you with picking up your stationerys. You got up, the man following you soon. This time facing the guy properly as both of you made eye contact you were about to say thank you when your voice abruptly decided to not come out.

The man had soft long black hair .The kind of hair you would want to play with all day. His baby doe eyes staring at you, his lips parted. The oversized hoodie he was wearing made him the grizzly huggable bear image more.

As your eyes scanned him from head to toe, your lips a bit parted, the guy not being able to control his laughter at how cute you looked when your eyes went big as if you saw something really interesting and you'd like to study that thing more, he gave out small giggles making you quickly close your mouth and look at him. Noticing how every students in tha hall were staring at both of you, you shifted your weight from one leg to another leg uncomfortably. But the guy's Adorable bunny smile didn't go out of your notice. His eyes wrinkled as he tilted his face and asked you softly

"You okay? "

Blinking couple of times you nodded your head making him shyly scratch his nape and mumble 'thank god'. Your lips automatically curved up when your eyes landed on the ID card hung around his neck

"Jeon Jungkook"

Once realization hit you that you were now standing infront of your college's hearthrob while looking like a whole mess which you didn't care about that much until you bumped into him, your cheeks got tinted in a light blush. Pulling your lips in you tilted your head a bit to the side making your baby hairs fall over your face.

"Hey kook!"

A loud deep voice entered the ears of the people standing in the hall making them turn their heads to the two seniors waving their hands at Jungkook's direction, a big wide smile plastered know their face. Jungkook takes out his bracelet covered wrist from his pocket and waves at them. Jimin running towards us and wrapping his arm around the tall guy's shoulders he notices me and flashes me a smile

"Hey Y/N"

Waving your sweater paw at him as a hey you smiled. You met Jimin and Taehyung a couple of times before in some group works with seniors. You not really interested in gossips of the college noticed just a few days ago that Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook are the well known hot trio of this college.

"Y/N.."

Jungkook repeats your name to himself before looking at you once again , smiling while saying

"Sweet name"

His sweet honey voice saying your name was enough to melt you. If it was any other guy right now you would have simply said thank you for helping you pick up the books and walk away without saying anything but surprisingly Jeon Jungkook made you stop. "I'm hungry didn't have breakfast this morning" Taehyung whines while holding his tummy earning a slap on his head from Jimin. "we are going for lunch wanna join us? "

Jungkook asks you making you widen your eyes at the sudden invitation and Jungkook earning some smirks from the seniors beside him, Jimin elbowing his arm while wiggling his eyebrows. Jungkook simply rolled his eyes at his hyungs before looking at you for a reply. You glancing at your silver wrist watch said "I would love to but I should get going. I have some stuffs to do"

Jungkook quietly nods his head before flashing you a smile.

Is he always smiling?

You thought noticing that he had been smiling since the moment both of you met. "Y/N's always studying hard"

Taehyung says earning a nod from Jimin making you shyly scratch your nape.

The Brunnete haired approached you giving you a pat on your shoulder before saying "Study well but don't forget to have lunch okay? "

You flashed him a smile while nodding. Jungkook waving his hands at you as a 'bye' walked past you with the two boys. You looked back at three of them noticing that two of them were wearing hoodies and one of them were wearing full sleeved tees.

It's so hot these days why are they wearing hoodies on top of tees?

Shaking your head you quickened your pace and quickly got out of the college grounds. Walking to the bus stand while looking around at the cozy coffee shops on the streets you keep glancing at your watch from time to time to make sure that you're going on time or not.

Now here's a secret about you that no one knows

You're a student at an art college but you are also a student at a law school. Your father runs the family business of electronics. Yes the electronics company ranking the second best in the country out of all the other electronic companies, which he wants to hand over to your big brother after he retires. Your mother always wanted a child of her to be a sculptor. Borning late in the family with the talent of art you were forced to study this subject whereas you were interested in prosecution, catching criminals and stuffs. What you were most interested in were being a mafia or an assassin but you gave up on those dreams and decided to study law. Your parents only giving their all attention and care to their first born, didn't care about you that much. The only thing they wanted from you was becoming a great sculptor and bringing praise to your family.

After nights of confusion and judgement you decided to study in the law school that you got admitted, secretly with the money your grandparents left you. Your grandparents left some money for you and your brother before passing away and thankfully they were enough to pay for your study books expenses. But maintaining time for your law school as well as the art school was hard but you managed to make time after dropping off from some extra courses of the art college without telling your parents. But it was hectic. Your college hours starts from 7 am. And you have classes till 9am then a break at 9:15 am to 10:30 due to dropping off from some extra class. Your law classes starts from 9:30 so during the break you quickly leave the grounds and head off to the law classes. Then you return to the art college at 10:20 when it's a break at your law school. Then once again when it's a lunch break at the art school you head off to the law school while munching on some snacks, obviously not getting time to have proper lunch. And when it comes to events you had to make up excuses at the law school for not attending as your parents would obviously not skip their daughter's presentations.

It would be more hectic from today cuz you just applied to a job at a night club. There's a course for learning shooting at the law school but you don't have enough money to pay for that so it's time to earn some money.

•••

Stretching your arms while getting up from the seat you had been sitting on straight for 2 hours, you give a yawn before taking out a scrunchie and putting your hair up. All the classes for the day are done. Putting the back pack around your shoulder you bow at the teacher before leaving the school premises. Walking inside the bus and sitting on one of the seat you take out your phone and start typing to your mother , 'Mom I'll be late tonight as I got some extra lessons. Don't worry for me and you don't have to send car I'll come by bus'

"No one's gonna worry about me though"

You say to yourself while letting out a small laugh and looking out at the window. Everything vanishing from your sight at a fast pace as the vehicle picks up its speed upon seeing the empty road. Some of the street lights flickering due to not being fixed for several days now. You take out the 'guideline' paper of the bar you're gonna work in from backpack, going through the structure of the building in your mind and remembering all the rules explained to you yesterday when you went to apply for the job. This night club only seemed to be safe for you to work in now. By safe means you would have no worries of the common students who spends time in bars and clubs to see you. If anyone recognizes you then it's game over. Plus the pay is high too.

The phone screen lighting up as a notification popped up you unlocked the phone before seeing from whom the text is from.

Bro: heard you're coming late at night should I pick you up from the way while coming home?

"Geez already told him?"

You say to yourself once realizing that your mom told your brother to pick up but your brother being nice asked if you want to be picked up first or not. Smiling at his text before typing your reply It's ok you don't have to come. The office is far away from my college anyways. Get home safely.

Waiting for a few minutes to see his reply which you didn't get you turned off your phone and put it inside your bag. Looking out from the window thinking why he didn't reply when he saw your text whereas usually he would try to come pick you up, being the 'protective' brother. You got down from the bus as soon as the bus came to its stop. You walked for a few more minutes from the bus stop till arriving at your destination.

Hell's night club

•••

It's been only five minutes of you serving drinks but you're already tired. How can a human body and mind work for 13 hours straight without any rest. You did mess up some tables a couple of times for which you were now getting a scolding from the manager. You looking down bowing slightly while your hands in front of you.

"Miss Lee Y/N did you properly see the table numbers today? "

The old man asks to which you nod. "Then why are you messing up? " He asks in a raised voice making you flinch and quickly mumble a sorry. You lift your head up a bit to see the old man sighing while pinching his forehead, clearly visible that he's angry. "I'm letting you go as this is your first time don't make mistakes anymore"

He says making you bow and say

"Thank you"

He looked around trying to see if any waitresses are free. Sighing at how there's no one free without counting you he gave you a look before handing you a tray of various kinds of drinks. "Take this to table no. 14. And do not make any mistakes. They are regulars here I don't want them gone" Nodding at him you set off to find this table no. 14 . Noticing how your skirt got up a bit you tried pulling the skirt a bit down with one hand as the other one was holding the tray, you quickly withdraw your hand without fixing the skirt upon seeing the tray tremble in one hand. Quickly holding the tray in place and scanning if any drinks were spilled, you sigh in relief. You looked back to only lock eyes with the manager . He staring straight at you with his cold eyes. You gave a small awkward smile and walked towards table 14.

The table no. 14 seemed to be surrounded by many big men. All had some sort of tattoos on them. A familiar man sitting in the middle holding a pen and scribbling something on a notebook. His inked arms full on display as the silver earrings were still being able to shine despite the dullness in the scene. His long bangs falling before his eyes not letting anyone see the face beneath it.

You quietly approached the table and when you raised your eyes from the ground to the man sitting in the middle, your legs automatic came to a halt and your breath hitched.

Jeon Jungkook right there was sitting. The table in front occupied with various weapons and him sitting like a whole five course meal, fingers playing with the dangly earrings

This is totally not what I expected

#jungkook tattoo #jungkook ff #mafia jungkook #tattoo artist jungkook #jjk imagines #bts imagines #bts namjoon #bts yoongi #BTS jimin #bts hoseok #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #wow i'm posting

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magis-stuff · 2 years

Text

Tarot Deck Energizing

You have a Tarot deck! Congrats! But something feels wrong. It’s acting a bit cranky (Yes they can do that!) or just plain feels wrong. Tarot decks are like flypaper, old energy gets stuck to your cards, making readings inaccurate or just downright hurtful. What do you do? Well look no further dear reader, I’ve got the answers for you in these three simple steps: Cleanse, Charge and Rest. So how does it all work? Let’s take a look.

Cleansing:

“But Magis” I hear you ask, “how do you cleanse a Tarot deck? You can’t mean to wash them!” and to that dear reader I say of course not! There are more ways to cleanse things than simply washing them with soap and water! Let’s look at a few:

Meditation

The fastest and simplest way to cleanse your tarot deck is to meditate with it. Hold your tarot cards in your hands and focus on a white light from the sky washing over your cards and over your hands. This white light is cleansing and it is good, allow it to soak into your cards and take the old energy out.

Smoke

This is a great way to cleanse your cards, and it is a simple one too! Don’t worry if you don’t have sage, the normal purifier, there’s others that work incenses too such as (but not limited to!): Sandalwood, Dragonsblood, Evergreen, Frankincense, Lavender, and Rain. Wave your cards over the smoke for 20-30 seconds, imagining the smoke cleansing and purifying the cards.

Shuffle and Knock the top

A tried and true method. Everytime you shuffle your cards before you spread them you are getting the energy to move around, and knocking the top knocks the old energy you just moved and got unstuck right out of the cards! You don’t need to hit the cards with all your strength (that would probably bend the cards!), all you need is one firm knock on the top and boom! Clean cards!

Charging:

Once your tarot cards have all the energy taken out, you need to bring new energy in! These are some of (but not all) the ways to charge your cards:

Moonlight (Especially the Full Moon!) or Sunlight

Ah the full moon, a powerful and easy to use tool. Place your cards on a windowsill on the night of the full moon to charge your tarot cards. You can do this with regular moonlight or even the sun (just be careful not to blanch your cards!) but the full moon is the most powerful.

Smoke (Again!)

The same smoke you used to cleanse can also charge, just focus on them charging the cards instead of cleansing them!

Line Up The Cards in the Correct Order

The cards tell a story, all together they tell the story of the fool on his way to the world card, on his way to creation. To get there he passes many obstacles, just like the rest of us. Connecting the cards realigns their power, allowing them to flow as one. This is a good one to do if your cards are feeling particularly angry or you feel particularly drained doing a reading.

Meditate

This is a go to for any charging quickly. Simply meditate for five minutes or so holding your deck and focusing on positive energy being drawn back into your cards, feel it tingle through your fingertips as it enters the cards. Do this for a quick charge; it’s not suitable for more severe cases.

Shuffle

Shuffling cleanses as well as charges, but it sometimes isn’t enough. Some energy (especially negative energy) is very sticky while some energy isn’t, so shuffling on its own may not be enough to recharge your deck after cleansing it.

Resting:

Yes, cards need sleep too. Tarot dealings, while you may not feel it, take a lot of energy out of you as a dealer and the cards themselves. Every now and then they need a break themselves, and this is the best way how:

Leave them alone!

Easier said than done I know, but sometimes your cards, like humans, get tired and need a break. When that happens, you’ll only get negative outcomes from your cards; you’ll feel tired and annoyed, and just downright drained. When this happens put the cards aside for the day and let them cleanse on a window sill with sunlight or moonlight. They deserve a rest too!

Bonus! A Good Protection Method: Bay Leaves and Crystals

Bay Leaves are great for protection for decks, as they are known to not only remove bad energy, but usher in good energy. Put a few on top of or with your deck in its box or bag to usher in good luck and protection. Crystals can suck negative energy out (clear quartz) or protect from bad energy in the first place (Amethyst, Hematite)! Simply put one on top of your deck after it has been charged, and cleansed and it will provide extra protection.

So there you have it, how to cleanse, charge, and rest a tarot deck. Tarot cards may seem overwhelming but with some practice and a lot of patience, anyone can learn how to use them. Just remember, tarot cards are not as scary as they look. Follow your gut, and don’t forget to cleanse, charge, and rest them.

#tarot reading #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarot #daily tarot #tarotdaily #witchblr #witchcore #witchcraft #witchy #paganblr #pagan witch #witchyvibes #baby witch #pagancommunity #beginner witch

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obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts · 3 years

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I’ve been silently reading for a bit now and love your posts. I was wondering if it was possible to do a poly MC, who had a facial deformities like facial tumors, and another demon making fun of them to the point of tears.

I've only known one person with something similar, and he's a very kind man. I imagine it's hard being stared, and even harder being made fun of for something you can't control and can't hide.

Hopefully I do this justice! It's mostly a comfort fic because tbh anything too specific makes it a bit harder, and insults are always specific. For instance, when I was in school I got called Hitler because my last name is extremely German. Teachers endorsed it, but I don't think anyone else could relate to that specific scenario. Thanks again babe 💞

Lucifer

He's extremely concerned when he finds you crying, tucked away in the corner of your room.

And when you explained what happened, he becomes extremely angry.

You see, before any of this happened, the two of you had talked over your concerns.

Human schools aren't always kinda to things they don't consider to be 'normal', and seeing as humans aren't inherently evil creatures, you were extremely worried about what demons could possibly say or do to make you feel less than.

He assured you that if anyone said anything, you needed to tell him, and he would deal with it.

He does.

Actually, they all do.

It's kinda like a cliche organized-hit on someone. Except, Lucifer is sentencing demons to ISS and making sure his brothers do everything in their power to scare the living hell out of them.

Word gets around and no one ever negatively comments about how you look, act, talk, ext. ever again.

Mammon

He witnesses it first hand, right at the entrance of the cafeteria.

You hadn't spotted him yet, no, you were too busy trying to move passed two demons leering over your form.

He could hear the harsh words coming from their mouths. Aggression and hatred he only though could exist in movies.

But, maybe it's a demon thing, a pure demon thing, because none of his brothers have ever been so cruel.

He immediately jumps into action, yelling and shaking his fist like some old fellow.

The demons are quick to scurry, but it's a bit too late by that point. You're already crying.

He comforts you with shakey, loving whispers and warm touches, promising you that you two can just skip the rest of school if you like. Lucifer won't mind after all. Not with everything that's happened.

You two can go to lunch else where or sit at home and binge TV until you feel better, yeah? Whatever you want babe as long as you promise you don't ever believe a word those guys say.

Leviathan

He sees read the minute he realize someone is picking in you.

Whether it's from fighting with people online or his repressed rage from being picked on himself, he isn't giving any mercy to the assholes who dared to make you cry

It really doesn't help the situation, for the most part.

In the moment it makes you stressed, you cry harder and a crowded gathers to watch one of your boyfriends beat up a demon for insulting you.

But later, it makes you feel proud. Like, you wish it wasn't so violent, but he defended you, and honestly, you're so happy to have that. Sometimes people wuss out, or don't see why words can be so hurtful, so having someone who does and is so ready to defend you is nice.

Satan

He's fuming when he finds you crying.

Satan doesn't even need to know why, he just knows he's pissed because you're upset and you shouldn't be. Not to this extent at least.

Like sure, silly tears resulting from a TV show are fine and what comes from grief is unavoidable, but these heavy drops of despair will not fly. You should never be upset to this extent.

When he discovers the exact reason as to why you're sad, he's set on getting revenge.

But first he comforts you, letting you know that you're beautiful and whilst it is hard to ignore the hurtful words of many, you must remember you have seven men waiting for you at home.

You're worth love, no matter what those asshole said.

(Then he proceeds to rip the lesser demons a new one. He handles it alone, thankfully, because if he hadn't the guy would be dead. They never bother you again.)

Asmodeus

Now, Asmodeus is a bit of an asshole himself.

He's known for picking apart people's appearances and style, but when it comes to you, you're the exception.

(Yes, he still makes the "I'm still prettier" comments, but that's honestly the biggest compliment you can get from Asmo at first. The longer your relationship goes on, the more you'll be put above him.)

When he comes across you sobbing on your phone, he's extremely quick to action.

He'll begin by tagging both the demons on his page, publically calling them out for their bullshit. (Which, may be controversial considering how old these demons would be as humans, but Asmo is like a beauty guru and doesn't care.)

He doesn't really have to lift another finger, but he does.

There's like five spammed post of you and the two of you together with long, loving descriptions.

They're so wonderful that it kinda overwhelms all the awful things that had been said about you.

Beelzebub

Baby boy is angry.

He's ready to tear apart the entire school

But he doesn't because he recognizes you need him now. You need his reassurance, and his strength, before he goes causing chaos.

He'll hug you, encasing you into a tight hold.

Once you calm down a little, he'll text the others to handle it, because he knows he can't really leave you at the moment.

Beel distracts you for the remainder of the night. Lots of snacks, lots of kisses to your face, and lots of cheesy movies he hopes will make you smile

He'll make sure everyone knows how much he loved you, and that includes EVERYTHING about you.

Belphegor

In any situation, he's very quick to get you to one of the others, because he's not going to be an extremely comforting presence.

He's enraged, and Belphie is not exactly known for being the best at controlling himself in these situations.

Someone is going to have to stop him, or calm him down at the very least. Rage is clouding his view, and everyone knows he's going to get himself hurt if he doesn't think.

Once he's settled down (or settled the matter, either works), he'll come home, rip you away from whoever is currently comforting you, and cuddle you to sleep.

It's like having a weighted blanket. You feel secure, and you'll fall asleep knowing you've got an amazing support system that knows you're absolutely beautiful.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me x mc #obey me x reader

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lesbiapphic · 3 years

Note

Prompt: 5 times Bucky carried Sam and 1 time Sam carried Bucky. It can be sweet like Sam fell asleep somewhere awkward or angsty like Sam is horribly injured or naughty like Bucky is impatient and just carries Sam to the nearest flat surface. I just love to read about Bucky carrying Sam so please whenever you can.

hey anon!! thank u so many for the prompt, i too am a sucker for bucky carrying sam. heres what i came up with, i hope you like it!

Bucky had carried Sam five times and Sam had only carried him once. Yes, Bucky had been keeping track. Not every time was pretty, but they all held a special place in Bucky’s heart. At this point, they were having a competition, but only because Bucky had brought it up. He could recall each time like the back of his hand, excited for every chance he got to carry Sam around. Sam just liked to make competition out of everything, especially with Bucky and especially with small things like this.

The first time Bucky had to carry Sam was before they were dating, in fact the first two happened before they were together. On the first mission they were on as a team, Sam got himself hurt pretty bad. He was forced into a one on one with a super soldier and no wings to help out. Admittedly, his hand to hand combat skills weren’t where he wanted them to be, and the guy he was fighting was pretty brutal. Before Bucky could get to him, the soldier in question got a good hit to his head and made him unconscious. Bucky had walked into the man standing over Sam and saw red. He wasn’t sure what exactly happened, he just knew that the fight had ended with the super soldier in a wall and Sam in his arms. He carried Sam bridal style out of the building and to a safe place where he had woken up, pushing himself out of Bucky’s arms and yelling at him for not getting there in time. Bucky had thought about this time a lot before they got together.

The second time was actually what got them talking to each other about what was really going on between them. Sam had fallen asleep at the dinner table after being away for a few days on a mission. Of course, Bucky wasn’t going to let it slide and definitely wasn’t going to wake him just to send him to bed. He took it upon himself to pick Sam up like a little kid, letting his head rest on his shoulder and carrying him to his bed. Initially, he didn’t wake up. Only when he got to bed did he realize that Bucky very gently had taken him to his room. Bucky remembered the look on Sam’s face as he groggily asked him why he did that and continued to interrogate him half asleep until Bucky admitted his feelings. It was uncomfortable, but surprisingly easy. That night ended with Sam sleeping safely in his bed and Bucky staying up freaking out about whether or not he would remember the conversation the next morning. He did, and that day they got together officially.

The third time was interesting to say the least. In passing, someone had made a negative comment about Bucky and Sam was not having it that day. If Bucky had any less patience, it would have been Sam having to carry him off. Going on 30 minutes of debate on his character, Sam was showing no sign of stopping and Bucky just really wanted to go home. He felt the only logical thing was to pick Sam up by the waist and drag him off, so he did. Sam was still shouting in between yelling at him to put him down, which he did not until they were back at their place. Finally, Bucky set him on the ground and Sam glared at him, telling him how much he hated him. Bucky only smiled and unlocked the door, knowing full well he didn’t actually mean what he said.

The fourth time was the same situation as the second, they just ended up in the same bed. This last time, however, was on Bucky’s mind a lot. During a movie night on the couch, they got into a pretty intense make out session. A quarter into the movie, they already had each other's shirts off, getting handsy with one another. One of Sam’s hands had found its way down the front of Bucky’s jeans and that was when Bucky couldn’t take it any longer. He shut off the TV without so much as looking, scooping the other man up by his thighs and lower back. Sam was surprised at how smoothly he had done this, but wrapped his arms and legs around him as Bucky took them to their now shared room, closing the door and practically slamming him against it. Surely, you know where this ended up.

Now, what about the one time Sam had carried Bucky, you might be asking yourself? Well, that time wasn’t anything special other than it being the only time Sam had picked him up. It was on a dare, Bucky brought up how many times he had to carry the other and mentioned how easy it was for him. This ignited the competitive side of Sam, which led to Bucky daring him to try to pick him up. Sam grabbed him by the knees and scooped him up, not without a little bit of struggle. Bucky was surprised and teased him about the struggle. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s shoulders as he carried him around proudly in their room. They ended up crashing onto the bed, laughing with each other. They both cherished this moment over how happy they made one another. They ended up kissing, which led to making out, which led right back to where the last time Bucky picked up Sam led to.

And there you have it, the ratio of Sam and Bucky picking each other up. Sam is determined to even it out, but Bucky isn’t going to let him get the chance. They are definitely a competitive couple to say the least.

#this is the first one of like 5 #im working on them while i get time #which is never bc u know. two jobs #sambucky #should i just tag this as sambucky? i have no clue #sam x bucky #sambucky fanfiction

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so-cool-day6 · 4 years

Text

ok here this suggestive n kinda smutty kevin thing

i'm absolutely no real writer so i apologize in advance lol

i wanna put some warnings to b safe, again ive never done this but i wanna do my best hshhsshshh

- slight degradation

- implied rlly rough sex

- mention of hair pulling

- color system

also i proofread this a million times but knowing me there's probably a million mistakes still, sorry

Never did I expect that "Jade" wasn't Jade at all.

Never did I expect that "Jade" was Kevin Moon undercover on deobi stan twitter.

Never did I expect that Kevin Moon would find my thirst tweets so hilarious that he wanted to hear more about them.

The moment Jade accidentally said "I" instead of "Kevin" in a message, I knew something felt fishy.

But he played it off so well, I soon forgot about it.

But those things just kept happening.

Sometimes it didn't take Jade very long at all to think up how Kevin would react to something.

Sometimes the answers seemed so extremely accurate, they could only have been from Kevin himself.

And when I finally put all the many pieces together?

Oh boy. I was pissed. And immensely embarrassed.

But not near as embarrassed as I know I'm about to be in a few minutes.

I'm only a few people away from going up to the fansign table to meet The Boyz.

I wasn't gonna come. I wasn't even gonna enter. I knew it would be far too embarrassing and humiliating to see Kevin in real life after all the explicit things I said about him, inadvertently directly to him.

But when your best friend begs you to enter with her, you enter with your best friend.

And when you and your best friend both win, and she begs you to go so she isn't alone... you go so she isn't alone.

She owes me big time for this one.

Thank goodness that Kevin isn't first...

As I talk to Jacob, Chanhee, Sangyeon, and Eric, I was glad to discover that, even if he shared every conversation we ever had, Kevin at least hadn't show any of them what I looked like.

But my conversation with Eric is ending, and Kevin is smirking, telling me that he has already noticed me.

Time to die, I guess.

I say goodbye to Eric, give him a high five, and move to the next seat in front of Kevin Moon.

"Well, well, well." He smiles. "Fancy seeing you here."

I try to laugh. "Yeah..."

"Why so shy? You weren't this shy on twitter."

"Yeah, when I wasn't talking to Kevin Moon."

"Ah, but you were. You were talking to Kevin."

I simply roll my eyes in response and look down at my hands, trying to keep my face from getting too red.

"Listen, I do wanna apologize. I shouldn't have manipulated you like that."

"It's okay... I can't blame you. If I were in your position, I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing. And there wasn't any real harm done, right? As long as it doesn't get out."

"Although, I must say..." His eyes darken. "I kind of liked hearing your thoughts about me. Especially in such detail." His hand lands on my thigh under the table and he feels me instantly tense up. He cracks a smile and chuckles. "I really do have an effect on you, don't I?" His voice is barely above a whisper, and his grip on my thigh tightens. "Just tell me if you want me to take my hand away and I will. Instantly. No questions asked."

"Okay." I think for a moment. Do I? Do I want him to move?

He looks at me expectantly, waiting for more of a response.

"I'll tell you if I do." I can feel my face heat up as I make my decision.

He smirks.

"I love how flustered you get." His thumbs slowly rubs the inner part of my thigh, thanks to his hand placement, and chills run up and down my back.

"Hurry up." A staff member says behind him, making sure the line doesn't get held up.

While Kevin's hand on my thigh isn't visible to the crowd, it IS visible to the staff. But they don't seem phased, nor do they seem to care.

Does Kevin have a habit of feeling up fans under the table or do they just wanna go home?

He leaves a cold spot on my leg as he pulls his hand away and quickly signs my album.

He answers the question post-it, which is actually a question from my Kevin-biased friend who couldn't try for a fansign slot, and then he flips the post-it up and writes something on the album page underneath the post-it.

"Move." The staff tells me. Kevin gives me a high five to look casual and throws me a wink as subtly as possible.

I continue on through the rest of the line, trying to keep my composure, especially when talking with Sunwoo and Changmin.

I may have said... a lot about them to Kevin.

A lot.

The fansign finally ends, and I don't remember Kevin writing something under the post-it note until the drive back to my friend's house.

"Hilton on Portico

Room 347

Should be back by 8

I'll have Q out of our room by 8:05

Hope to see you there"

No way.

No, he's kidding.

He's kidding right?

Did he just ask me to meet him in his hotel room tonight?

Why?

He doesn't want to... no.

No, that's impossible.

Why would he want to-

"Are you even listening?" My friend snaps me out of my thoughts and I quickly cover Kevin's message.

"Sorry, I spaced out... Can't stop thinking about meeting them, yknow?"

My hand raises to knock on the door, before I pull it back down.

8:06, my watch reads.

I shouldn't be here.

I shouldn't be here, right?

This is insane...

Maybe he wants to lecture me.

Maybe he wants to yell at me.

Why would he wanna yell at me after what he did at the fansign, though?

I shake my head and raise my hand to knock again.

No matter why he wants to see me at his hotel room, he wants to see me at his hotel room.

It must be important.

I carefully knock, suddenly regretting all of my life choices as I wait for him to open the door.

What if Changmin is still in the room?

What if his manager is in the room?

What if he wrote down the wrong room number?

What if he was just trying to play with me all along, and they aren't even at this hotel?

The door swings open and Kevin's face lights up.

"You came..." He sounds shocked, as if meeting Kevin Moon in his hotel room isn't a dream to many, many people. "Come in, please." He opens the door wider and steps to the side, allowing me to walk into the room. "I'm sorry it's still a mess... we have to refuse housekeeping services and I just got Changmin to leave a couple minutes ago. I didn't have a chance to tidy up for you..."

"No, no! It's no big deal, no worries. If only you saw my house, it's way worse..."

We stand in silence for a bit, both of us unsure exactly what to do next, when suddenly I gain a boost of confidence.

"Kevin, why am I here?"

He looks at me with eyes full of... I'm not sure what.

Thoughtfulness?

"I don't know. Why are you here?"

"You don't know? You're the one who told me to come." I scoffed.

"I know. But why did you come? What were you hoping would happen if you came to my hotel room? Or should I say..." His eyes darken again, just like they had at the fansign, and he steps towards me and takes my hand in his. "What are you still hoping will happen?"

All breath leaves me.

"Maybe I can jog your memory. Were you maybe hoping that I would... pull your hair and pound you from behind like you're nothing but my sorry cumslut?"

A sharp gasp involuntarily leaves my body as he boldly quotes one of the first things I ever told Jade, word for word. I can feel his ego boost by the second.

"Or maybe it was something more along the lines of..."

Kevin places his hands on my waist and pulls my body flush with his.

"Fingering you roughly until you're shaking and crying and begging for me to stop... but I don't."

Again, he quotes my own sexual fantasy to me, every word correct. Except this time it elicits a soft moan.

I can feel him hard against me, and I can't help but look away towards the floor in embarrassment.

"Look at me."

I can't bring myself to obey his command, no matter how much I want to.

"I said look at me." He grabs my chin and turns my face towards his, his eyes slowly moving away from my eyes and down to my lips.

His eyes and voice all tell me that he's having a hard time holding back, but he has to ask something first.

"Have you ever heard of the color system?"

"Yeah." I whisper, which is about the only volume I can muster up in the moment. "Like a traffic light, right?"

"Right. What color are you on right now?"

"Green."

"And what color would you be on if I kissed you?"

"Green."

That's all the approval he needs to quickly place one hand on the lower back of my head and softly press his lips into mine.

That softness does not last long, as the kiss soon turns into a quite passionate make out.

We begin to migrate, lips still together, until our legs hit the edge of the bed and Kevin pulls away from me.

"Your fantasies aren't soft. And you've got such a hold on me, I can't promise to be either. I don't wanna do anything that makes you uncomfortable, upset, or negatively helpless. I want you to use the colors. Is that okay with you?" Somehow his continuous consent checks make him a hundred times sexier.

"I can do that."

"Don't hesitate at all to say any of the colors at any moment, if you feel you want to. Okay?" Yeah, the continuous consent checks are really sexy.

"Okay."

"Where are we at right now?"

"Green."

With that, he smirks and pushes me onto the bed, quickly crawling on top of me to reattach his lips to my own.

His beautiful hands begin to wander and feel my body. He finds my waistband and slowly slides his thumb under it.

I know he's taking it slow just in case I change my mind, which is very considerate, but it only makes me frustrated.

I push him away slightly with my hand.

"Can you hurry it up, Kev? You've had me wet since lunch." Is all i say before grabbing his shirt and pulling him back into me.

I can tell he's holding back some kind of reaction to what I just did.

His hand fully slides under my waistband, both of them, and he begins to slide his hand lower and towards the middle...

The embarrassment surrounding my encounters with Kevin are being replaced with thankfulness. Who would have thought that thirst tweets would land me in a hotel bed, getting fucked by Kevin Moon?

He's just made me cum for the third time.

First time with his mouth and fingers, then twice by railing me in two different positions.

He says yellow as he pulls out, and I nod.

We both need a breather.

He lays down next to me, both of us breathing quite heavily. I'm definitely breathing heavier, though. Curse his dancer cardiovascular health.

"So, what do you think we should-" Kevin is cut off by the sound of the door being unlocked with a key card, and his eyes go wide. He hurries to pull the blanket up over me, covering up my naked body from the view of whoever was coming in.

The fact that he doesn't care at all about his dick still hanging out loud and proud makes me wonder just how comfortable he is with all his members AND staff...

The person entering starts saying something in Korean, and all I can pick out is that he's addressing Kevin for something.

As the mystery person turns the corner and we meet eyes, both of us freeze for a moment.

Kevin scolds Ji Changmin in Korean, and Changmin responds, clearly upset at Kevin for something.

Kevin checks his phone and mutters an "oh".

"I'm sorry." Kevin turns to me. "I told Q to stay out until 10, thinking we'd be done by then... but I guess we've been having a little too much fun..."

The room reeks of awkwardness (and sex, but that's besides the point), until Changmin shyly raises his hand to wave at me.

"Hello. I'm Q."

I chuckle and wave back.

Kevin says something to Changmin. I'm unable to pick out any words to grasp at some sort of context before Changmin's eyes widen even further and he points at me, simply saying...

"Deobi?"

I nod.

Kevin's face suddenly turns devilish, and he starts talking to Changmin again.

I feel very out of the loop, but the way Changmin's face is turning beet red isn't making me optimistic as to what Kevin is saying.

"Kevin, what did you just tell him?"

Kevin keeps talking and Changmin's eyes dart back and forth from me to Kevin, and then I notice they glance down.

His grey sweatpants are not being very forgiving as to hiding his erection.

"Kevin!" I try a second time.

"What, baby? A man deserves to know what a sexy woman wants him to do to her."

I grab a pillow and throw it at him, hard, before hiding my face in the sheets.

Kevin apologizes in both English and Korean, and I hear Changmin giggle awkwardly.

Kevin says one last thing and I hear someone going through a suitcase.

I peek out from the sheets and see Changmin riffling through his bag, still replying to Kevin, before tossing something at Kevin.

Kevin thanks him, using one word of Korean I do know.

Changmin leaves, not before saying a kind goodbye to me, and Kevin turns to me.

"This might be fun, don't you think? If my memory is being kind to me, you've definitely mentioned me using one of these on you." He holds up the vibrator that Changmin threw at him.

What on earth does Changmin get up to on tour?

"Did he say anything about what you... told him?"

"He asked if you were gonna still be in town tomorrow. I sure hope you are, cause I said yes. And tomorrow it seems I'll be the one leaving the room all night... if you want to, of course."

I start getting wet again at the prospect.

"But don't think about him too much yet. I'm not done with you yet, baby." He clicks a button on the vibrator. "Green?"

"Green."

He looks at me like he's a hungry lion, before pouncing on me.

Rest time is over.

--------

THE UNGOLDY SCREECH THAT LEFT ME OMG THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN

"Somehow his continuous consent checks make him a hundred times sexier" IT'S TRUE. I'm not okay. My mind was babble the entire time, especially when Changmin walked in 🤤 the idea of it all... beautiful 😍 is it okay if I tag this a tbz smut? I think more people deserve to read this. I'll delete the tags if you want me to!

#still screaming #submitted #🗝 anon #tbz smut #the boyz smut #kevin moon #submission #tbz reactions #the boyz reactions

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loonylupinnn · 3 years

Text

Becoming the Devil: Chapter 1 - Diagon Alley

Y/n Valentine, a woman who was just simply walking around Diagon Alley. The sun was high, throwing its rays down to earth where the many witches and wizards were trying to block. There weren't many clouds that day, which didn't help much. But it was still a beautiful day.

The streets were filled with the chatter that came from the people walking around. Few cries could be heard. Cries from children who didn't get things they wanted. The day was flowing smoothly. It was too good to be true...

"We still need to get some Phoenix tears" Maeve spoke to me, reading off the parchment our boss had given us as a last minute shopping. I groaned, "Those cost way too much" Maeve laughed, taking my hand in hers. Her soft fingers touched the back of my hand when our hands had intertwined. I swang our hands back-and-forth, creating a bit of wind to flow.

"Well she said it was for a V.I.P patient. And you know how she is." Maeve looked around the shops, taking us into 'Kaylah's'. It was such a simple name although the shop wasn't simple. It was lively and full of colors. Many potions, ingredients, tools, etc. The owner was Kaylah Dunn, a friend of ours. Our friendship was divided. You see, back in our Hogwarts years, the three of us were in different houses. Maeve was a Gryffindor, Kaylah was a Ravenclaw, and I was a Slytherin. Lucky for me, the two girls didn't judge me or hold a grudge towards me because of my house's stereotypes.

Many found it odd. I was a Syltherin hanging out with a Muggleborn and Gryffindor. Two things no one would expect coming from a Slytherin. A famous Pure-blood family. Except the tradition was broken when my father married my mother, a muggle. He was disowned, kicked out of the family. But karma caught up with my grandparents. They died a few months later after disowning him, making him the heir of the Valentine's name. He inherited many riches and the grand Manor.

"Hello girls" Kaylah smiled from the other side of the counter. "Kaylah!" I beamed. It's been quite a few weeks since we last seen her. "Whatcha lookin' for?" She asked, fixing her brunette hair into a low-ponytail. Her deep and velvety eyes looked at us, awaiting for an answer.

"Phoenix tears. V.I.P patient!" Maeve said. Kaylah nodded, before bringing us to the other side of the counter. Taking us into the back, to the storage, she took out a shabby, old box. She took the handle into her right hand, lifting it up, making the lid go up as well. Inside the box were five vials of Phoenix tears. These tears were rare. There weren't many, due to the lack of Phoenix's. Back in Hogwarts, it was rumored that our transfiguration professor, Dumbledore, had a Phoenix.

"How many?" She asked. "One will do," I said. She took one out, then closed the lid of the box. She handed it over to me, placing it onto my palm. "Now do be careful, ya' know how rare 'ey are" We nodded.

"Thank you, how much?" Maeve asked. "Oh! Ya' know you can always take it for free, just-" She placed her index finger against her lips. "Yes, yes, we know," I said, shaking my head. "Great!" She clapped her hands together, swiftly moving towards the back door. "Go on!" She shooed us out, "Got a business to run" We laughed and said our goodbyes.

We walked through a narrow alley which brought us back into Diagon Alley. No one stopped us, as usual. We went back into walking among the rest of the people there, blending in. There wasn't much to us. If you ever saw us, you'd just think;

'Two normal girls walking around'

Yes. We looked that basic. But we didn't care much, other people's opinions didn't matter. Just normal witches like any other you spotted.

"Mayb-" Maeve was cut off by a loud explosion. Our heads snapped towards the noise. We saw a group of people in black hoods and masks with snake-like eye slits that covered their faces. They used their wands to cast various spells all over the place. The normal chatter and laughs were turned into screams and cries.

Smoke started filling up the clear sky which came from the few buildings lit up with fire. "Y/n, lets leave" But before we could apparate away from all the chaos, Maeve was stunned. She was thrown. I let out a gasp, taking out my wand. I turned around to see one of the many cloaked persons about to kill a young witch.

I quickly ran over. "Stupefy!" I shouted, pointing my wand at the person. They flew back, hitting their head against a bricked wall. The little girl ran over to me, her body hugging my legs. She seemed about the age of 8 or 9. I calmed her down, wiping dry tears stains away from her pale-freckled face. Her ginger hair tied into two braids.

"Molly! Molly!" I heard a much older, female, voice call out. "Mummy!" She ran to the lady right before three of the cloaked persons started to circle around me.

"Expelliarmus!" One of them said, catching my wand in their gloved hands. My eyes widened. I didn't have any way to defend myself and I was yet to learn wandless magic. I only knew a bit, but it was useless.

They trapped me. One took me, holding me back as they apparated along with us in a black smoke. My breath hitched. Surprised by the sudden action.

We arrived in front of a dark manor. The grass was perfectly mowed, there was a trail which led up to the front door. The whole place gave off really dark vibes. Something about it was odd, yet I felt somewhat attracted to it.

The person who had me in their possession, harshly took me in. I tried running away a few times, but it was pointless. "Control yourself," They said. The voice ticked me off that it was male.

"Wh- What are you going to do?" I stammered. "Well you're going to meet the Dark Lord" I could practically hear their smirk on his face.

The Dark Lord. I have heard of him before. It was said that he was a rising dark wizard, in hope to eliminate all muggle and muggle-born witches and wizards. His crew has been growing through these past seven years. Everyone says that the most people in his group were Slytherins.

Shivers ran down my spine at the thought of it. We entered the gloomy-looking manor. Everything looked dark and dull. The stone walls radiate bad energy. There was something, more like someone, in this place that had an evil and negative aura.

They took me near a wooden door down the steps of the manor. One of them opened the door. In it was the same, stone wall. Nothing was held there except a chair, placed in the middle of the room. It was dark, with very little amount of light in it. The one cloaked person who was holding me, threw me onto the chair.

I sighed. My two arms were moved to the back of the cold, metallic, chair. My wrists were being tied up with a rope. I was stuck. Trapped.

Captured.

#fanfic #tom riddle #harry potter #hogwarts #tom riddle x reader #y/n #story #love story #captured #magic #fantasy #death eaters #tom x reader #chapter 1 #diagon alley

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mihidecet · 4 years

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Sbi&Co d&d AU: Fundy & Niki

AKA: Tibi's MCYT WritingTober, day 23!

SURPRISE!! As for @spout1nk and @awebo 's lovely requests, here is the chapter where we get to meet Fundy and Niki!!

This is also, once again, a fill for @the-only-gamer-gost 's list of prompts!! I got myself another free day aahahah

I do hope you'll like it! And as always, make sure you check out @whatimevendoinhere 's stunning drawings!!! They made art of Fundy and it is so good yall.

It starts like this: the whole gang is looking for a new job to tackle, with Techno, Tommy and Tubbo looking at the town's mission board and Wilbur and Phil needling the town's guard for more high profile tasks.

Half an hour later, a bored and disappointed trio meet up with a radiant Wilbur and an impressed Phil.

They have a job and the pay is five times higher than normal.

Apparently some dumbass has been running around the county, scamming nobles with fake artifacts and cursed precious objects. The nobles are mad, they want their coins back and the scammer in jail - or possibly worse -, and they are willing to pay an embarrassingly high amount of coin for it to be done quickly and quietly. Quietly being the highest requirement.

And that is how the SleepyBois start tracking this infamous scammer down.

First, they find all of the victims.

That alone takes them a while, because nobles are tricky to navigate and scorned nobles are even worse - and somehow these scammed nobles all seem to be not that good people, if the way they treat the adventurers trying to help them is any indication.

Still, one may assume that spending a lot of platinum coins on things that turn out to be fake and haunted might make you a bit … confrontational.

Also, they're going to make a lot of coins out of this job, so it's not like they're going to say anything.

Then, they buy a new, spotless map of the region with about a quarter of their collective coins - “Philza Greenwood we should have accepted the one from the kind old lady.” “You know that was cursed, we’re not doing this again.” - and start writing down every location hit.

It’s not that hard, once they put Tubbo to work, to find a handful of possible towns their target is going to hit.

It's honestly impressive how quickly he's able to narrow their options down, sending Techno and Wilbur out for recon missions to specific locations, guiding the whole team in a weirdly familiar way; straightforward and decisive like Techno, gentle and responsible like Phil, switching between the two attitudes as easy as he breathes.

Wilbur's only seen him like this when he works on his creations before, and it's amazing how quickly he gets over the initial sheepishness and steps into his role.

Everything is good and wonderful and he fits perfectly into the team, and this is just another proof of it.

The only bad thing about the whole situation is how bloody smug Tommy is, since it had been his idea to let Tubbo handle the planning - the kid can gloat, Wilbur's got to give him that, even if he is right in doing that.

Ever since the two childhood best friends had reunited, Tommy has been … more. Not in a bad way - no matter how much Techno jokingly groans about it -, but it's evident how much there was something weighing on the kid's mind before this.

But right now it's not really the best time to think about this.

A couple of nights ago, Tubbo had narrowed the list of possible new noble families that were going to be hit down to a single name. An old timey, very strict and reclusive family, now mainly composed of two grandparents and an impressive array of disowned young adventurers, and workers of all types. Reasons for disowning were many and varied and all a bit ridiculous.

Apparently having a bad temper and even worse record of mistreating everyone around you was the common denominator for all the people being targeted, alongside having an extremely absurd amount of coin.

Phil knows, he's seen it in Wilbur's eyes the moment Tubbo told everyone his deductions, that the tiefling would be more than happy with just letting the scammer go with a slap on the wrist. Everyone is slowly leaning towards that, Phil himself is too, but he's not really going to mention that yet, especially as they're all gearing up to stalk the scammer back to their hideout.

Especially since they can't really let this chance go: the fact that Tubbo was able to narrow their options down to a single family means that if this isn't it, they'll have to start from scratch.

When they leave the tavern, packed light and ready for the expected stealth, it's a couple of hours before dawn.

Everyone is thankfully able to see in the dark - even Tubbo, who is a human like Tommy, since he used his knowledge of glass-making and arcane enchantments to forge himself some night vision goggles - and they move quickly in the shadows, their silhouettes hidden even more due to one of Phil's spells.

This is also the first time Tubbo's bees aren't making any sound - apparently their buzzing is purely aesthetic.

Reaching the family's manor is not hard nor it takes longer than expected, which is quite unusual considering their experiences. Once they reach their destination, they hide near the entrance then Techno vanishes - probably gone inside the main gates to see if their target has already arrived.

About fifteen excruciating minutes later, Techno reappears, one hand already on Tommy's mouth to prevent him from yelping in surprise and reveal their position. The fact that he is perfectly correct in his assumption doesn't prevent him from receiving a swift kick to the shin.

"He's inside. Seems human, dressed like a scammer would be dressed. Or a very extravagant seller. Showing off a floating statue." Techno relies the information as he rubs the now sore spot on his leg, side eyeing a very offended Tommy while Tubbo is red faced almost to the point of tears as he desperately tries not to burst out laughing.

"Good job." Phil confirms, trying very hard to stay focused on the task - this all is extremely useful information, both in case of a possible fight breaking out and because in all the time they've been searching for the scammer, they've had nothing but mixed information from their targets.

One time it's a sweet looking cleric, another time they're a buff half orc, then it's a tiefling with a missing horn- every time something new, but the only constants have been the extravagant clothing choices and them being a magic user.

Wilbur punches the air with gusto, conveying silently what everyone is more or less feeling, and then they resign themselves to some uncertain amount of time of patiently and quietly waiting.

Phil has a spell to hide them again ready for whenever they hear somebody getting close.

Techno takes the time to meditate.

Wilbur is tapping a finger against his leg with his eyes closed, so he's probably writing a song in his mind.

Tubbo is taking notes on his notebook, planning another upgrade for his crossbow.

Tommy is about to vibrate out of his skin.

Everything according to plan.

Then, finally, Phil hears footsteps approaching the gates.

He casts his spell, shadows elongating from the trees they are hiding in, wrapping around them, covering them, fake greenery taking form in front of them- and everyone is instantly on edge.

"Are you sure you don't want a totem? They're good luck! They'll protect you against evil spirits - those old crooks must be beacons for them!" A quick paced voice reached their ears, and Techno's dagger is already out.

A much quieter voice answers - only Phil manages to catch the irritated negative answer, but everyone hears the gates being slammed shut.

There's more footsteps, then their target enters most of their views.

The man - probably? - takes some steps, back straight and shoulders moving with a light chuckle - when his eyes stray towards them.

He blinks once, twice, then his eyes switch colour.

He stops in his tracks.

Raises a hand and gives a quick wave.

"Uhm … cya!" And then he disappears, vanishing into thin air.

Techno curses loudly next to Tommy.

"Wilbur-"

The tiefling stands up and his eyes turn pure black as he raises a hand towards the place where he disappeared, muttering a quick song under his breath before calling out:

"Tubbo!"

A bolt from the kid's crossbow flies in the direction Wilbur's pointing at a split second later.

It flies, but doesn't strike true, barely grazing the scammer's jacket as the man moves out of its way. Right into Techno's thrown dagger which hits him right in the side.

There's a loud, weirdly pitched "shit!" coming from the empty air in the space in front of them, then nothing but the sound of someone fleeing as silently as they can.

Instead of following suit, like one would expect, the rest of the group turns towards Techno, who's holding his dagger - now back into his hand - and mouthing a prayer against the stained blade.

There's a light humm coming from nowhere and everywhere that echoes in Techno's mind for a moment, then he opens his eyes.

"So, do you have him?" Tommy asks, feeling the urge to pursue their target itching under his skin.

"Yup, I've got him. Nice job with the crossbow, Tubbo." Techno answers, shooting a small smile to his short companion, who shakes his weapon proudly.

"It's quite easy to shoot in order to make people move a certain direction, you know, once you know what to do!"

Tracking down the scammer is quite easy now that Techno has cast his tracking spell on him.

They wait for a moment, reconvene, make sure they have everything they need and then they start moving.

They don't have to walk much, as Techno lets them know that their target has stopped moving and they're getting closer extremely quickly.

In the end, it's a small, cute looking wooden house that they reach. It seems small and well kept, with clean windows and bright flowers on the outside. It's a bit hidden amongst a thicker part of the forest, but it gets enough light to be comfortably illuminated.

Wilbur figures the scammer ran and hid here, in hope of either having them lose his tracks or to maybe use a civilian as human shield.

Phil gestures towards the house, to which Techno answers with a decisive nod, so the elf approaches the door and knocks.

"Hello?" A feminine, accented voice answers from behind the door.

"Hi, I'm very sorry to disturb you, we're a group of adventurers looking for a runaway criminal, have you perhaps seen anyone suspicious running around?" There's a beat of silence, then a long, drawn out humm.

"I'm very sorry but I don't think I can help you with that? I was busy baking inside, I haven't seen anyone." The voice answers back, seemingly sheepish and apologetic.

Wilbur takes a step forward, shooting a glance towards a suspicious looking Techno.

"Our apologies, but would you mind letting us rest inside your abode for a little while? We've been out all night looking for clues, and we will pay you for your kindness."

After a slightly longer than expected pause, the sound of keys jingling reachea the team's ears.

"Oh, yes, of course. It's a bit small here, but- We can make it fit."

Phil knows enough Celestial to recognise the accent in the woman's voice; seeing her almost aethereal being open the door cements in Phil's mind the fact that yes, the person in front of him is of Celstial descent - that, and the dusting of silver and golden freckles across her face.

"Oh my, there- there's a lot of you."

Phil gives a sheepish smile, an apology ready on his lips - she is hiding their target, for some reason, but that doesn't mean he's going to be rude about it - but Tommy is already striding towards the entrance.

"We'll be good and squeeze together, promise!" He exclaims, quickly hitting Wilbur in the side with his elbow as he passes him.

The tiefling shoots him a murderous glare, which instantly disappears and turns into a kind smile the instant he realises that the aasimar woman is looking at him questioningly.

"Are you all part of the same group?" She asks as they shuffle in. The house is slightly bigger than expected, with everything looking both very clean and very lived in - books left open on a table, a chair that hasn't been set back, a blanket thrown on an armchair instead of being folded properly. It's homely.

There are a couple of colourful looking birds flying around the place, and they instantly flock to Phil the moment he enters the kitchen - following the woman's instructions. To be fair, there are plenty animals hanging out in the whole house: he's sure he heard a squirrel running in the corridor, and there were a couple of tortoises in the living room.

And then, on the window sill next to the kitchen table there is a fox, sleeping curled up under the sun. Techno, on edge from the tracking and the oncoming social interactions, really envies the tranquil animal.

"Is there anything you need? Something to drink, maybe? I was making some bread, so-" the woman starts, taking out a still smoking loaf. Everyone but Phil is instantly glowing: how often are you offered freshly baked bread? And mostly for free? That really is something special, that must be surely cherished.

And yet, Phil is not looking at the woman - who is still yet to introduce herself - but at the fox. Still sleeping peacefully, after they'd opened a single eye at the sound of strangers entering the room.

"That is very kind of you, miss …?" Wilbur asks, eyes constantly switching between the offered food and the stranger's face.

"Oh, you can call me Niki."

Phil moves closer to the fox with a small smile, one bird still perched on his shoulder, and extends a hand slowly, hoping not to startle the animal.

The fox blinks slowly at the fingers floating right in front of their eyes, then huffs and moves their head so that Phil can start giving them little scratches, tail swishing lazily - all this, while the rest of the team does a round of introductions.

"Niki, your fox is adorable." Phil comments after a moment, while the others are eagerly helping out Niki in finding a knife to cut slices of bread with and honey, which apparently she makes herself.

"Ah yeah, thank you. His name is Fungi." She answers with a small smile, making Phil chuckle. The fox's tail keeps swishing from side to side, probably to convey his appreciation of the continuous pets he's receiving, but one of his front legs seems to not be making any movement. A quick, focused, look confirms his suspicions.

"Oh dear, he seems hurt. Let me heal him for you." Phil comments, worry colouring his tone, as he focuses his intent into the palm of his hand, lightly resting on the injured limb.

As his magic knits back muscle and tissue and blod cells, Phil watches intently as the stab wound shrinks and then disappears. Then, he picks the fox up, cradling him in his arms as Niki gets closer, a look of deep worry on her face - one of the first true emotions she's shown since they got there, Phil notices, which only serves to confirm his suspicions.

"Oh, thank you so much, I'm so very glad, he just keeps getting into messes!"

There's a moment of pause, then Phil starts scratching the fox's chin - his tail starts wagging noticeably quicker.

"Did you know foxes are known for their cunning, but they're actually pretty dumb?" Phil starts, prompting everyone to turn towards him in shock and deep confusion.

Phil merely chuckles.

"You agree, right, little guy? I can see it in your eyes, there's nothing going on in that little brain of yours, right?" He teases, cooing at the little animal before- in a mix of slightly disturbing deformations and a blink-and-you-miss-it transformation - the fox in his arms suddenly enlarges, his limbs elongating and face rounding out.

Now, this would have probably come as a big surprise to akl but instead it looks quite funny because the moment the small fox becomes a human sized man with for ears, all the instantly added weight crashes into Phil and sends them crashing down to the ground.

But since they've all gotten used to a skinchanger moving from their human form to their animal one, one way or another, all that remains is the hilarouns scene of a laughing out loud Phil sprawled on the ground with their red faced, extremely irritated target kneeling on top of him.

"Fuck you, man! That was so mean!"

For a moment everyone is just staring at each other, trying to understand what has happened, until when Techno speaks up.

"Well I guess we found our scammer."

#mcyt writingtober #sbi dnd au #now sbi&co #philza #wilbur soot #ph1lza #tommyinnit #technoblade #fundy #tubbo #nihachu #dnd au #sbi au

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 years

Text

NSFW Alphabet: Crosshair

A/N: Not officially a request, but I thought I’d better cover the whole Bad Batch while I’m at it. And as a reminder, remember to REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS!!! The tumblr tags are fickle at best and it’s the only real way to support creators on this hellsite.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s always stuck between wanting to keep your body against him, but at the same time not wanting to come across as needy. He’ll probably start kissing your shoulders and neck, before nipping at the skin and telling you to go take a shower. Once you do, he’ll try to play it cool like, “you can stick around if you want, not that I care either way”. But, he does. He does care.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes your waist. Odd, but true. It’s the natural place to put his hands when he pulls you close to him. He likes the way you shiver when he runs his fingers along your skin. Not to mention it’s the perfect place to grip you as his fucks you senseless.

For himself, he likes his legs. Yeah, they’re not as thick or muscular compared to regs, but they’re distinctly his. Plus even if he’s not any taller, it helps with the illusion that he is.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His favorite place to cum is all over your chest and stomach. Seeing you a sweating, blissed out mess with his cum sticking to your skin is the single hottest image his mind can come up with. Second only to you hazily swiping his cum onto you finger and sucking with a moan.

You better be prepared if you do that because you won’t be able to walk the next day.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has an impressive collection of dirty holos you’ve sent to him while away on missions. He’s kept every single one. It’s gotten to the point where he just picks a random holo and that’s the fantasy he indulges in to get himself off until he can see you again.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Like the rest of the batch, he’s had a pretty healthy string of one night stands since leaving Kamino. He actually has the most notches on his bed post which he is not ashamed to bring up whenever Wrecker is getting just a little too cocky. So, he’s pretty experienced all things considered.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Taking you from behind and against a wall. That’s the popular image of him in the fandom and I’m ain’t here to dispute it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not funny, but he’s definitely a smug asshole who can’t help but comment on every sound you make.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it pretty well groomed down there, almost complete shaven. Also, dark hair down below, if you’re curious.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It’s very rare for Crosshair to be emotional in bed. He uses sex more as a way to get rid of tension or get a solid hit of dopamine. Actually being open with someone is not something he’s comfortable with.

The most intimate he gets is when he feels he might lose you, either in the field or to another man. Then, he uses it as a way to assure himself you’re with him and his. In that case, it can get pretty intense.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off often, before and after meeting you. He’s got a higher sex drive than his brothers and needs someway to work off the tension after a mission. He prefers doing it in the shower when he has the time, but he’ll honestly whip it out anyplace where he can get some privacy for fifteen minutes.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Let it be recorded that Crosshair is not only a Dom, but the only true Dom in entire Grand Army of the Republic. (With the exception of Commander Wolffe.)

Seriously, the man likes nothing more than pinning you down and using your body as his personally fuck toy. His ultimate fantasy is keeping you tied up in various positions, your body spread open and willing for him to use whenever the mood strikes him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere with a relatively flat surface. I cannot emphasize how much he does not care where he does it: bedroom, shower, locker room, bar bathroom, sparring room, between a couple of boulders out of view of the rest of the Bad Batch. He does not care.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

His ego...let me explain.

There are two ways to really get him going, but they both come down to how they effect his ego.

Number one, praise. If you compliment him on a shot, confirm that he did, in fact, beat Wrecker at something, or rasp a dirty promise in his ear that he’s the only man who has ever made you cum that hard; that’ll get him going more than anything.

Number two, jealously. If he sees another man actively flirting with you, he’ll all but sling you over his shoulder and carry you to the closest abandoned alley he can find to fuck you senseless. He doesn’t care if you were interested in the guy flirting with you or not, you’re his and he needs to remind himself and you of that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Humiliation for him is a no go. There’s the more obvious stuff, like the idea of you putting him on a leash or something equally degrading just gets him frustrated, and not in a sexy way. But, more specifically verbal humiliation. He genuinely gets upset if you’re the one to say he’s not good enough for you in some capacity or compare him negatively to somebody else. That’ll kill the mood in seconds.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Much prefers receiving to giving. Seeing you on your knees with his cock in your mouth his heaven. And being able to cum all over your face and chest when he’s done? He’s in heaven.

That being said, he’s not bad at giving, he just ends up mostly using his fingers while he runs his mouth. He can’t help it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough, like all the time. He basically has no other mode. Now, whether it’s more intense with pent up emotions or a fun stress reliever depends on his mood. Either way, if you’re not a sweating, panting mess by the end of it he feels like he’s failed in some way.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes. He’s going to say yes to quickies. Where ever and whenever is good for him. But, don’t think it’s really over when it’s over. He only considers it a preview of what he’s going to do to you once you actually get some time and a little more privacy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s certainly willing to try different positions and kinks, but he’s not big on getting more toys in the mix. He’s more than happy to tie you up and spank you, but he’s not so keen on adding a paddle or something like that, if that makes any kind of sense. It’s about his body and what he can do to you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Just as good as every other clone, with a fantastic recovery time. A solid average of three rounds per night lasting as long as either of you can stand it.

That all being said, he’s in constant competition with himself on how long he can last and for how many rounds.

Current record for time is two hours before he came once with you cumming a total of five times. Current round total is him cumming five times in one night while you lost count of yours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Surprisingly not his thing. He’s got some cuffs he uses on occasion with you, but not much else. Like I said, he’s in competition with himself, not him and a toy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t tease often, but when he does, he’s an asshole. He’ll keep you pinned down, lazily rubbing the tip of his cock against your opening, never fully going in until you’re squirming and begging him to just fuck you already. Sometimes he will and sometimes, he’ll leave you hanging there. It all depends on his mood.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not especially. In the beginning he keeps it almost conversational, as he talks dirty into your ear. But, it all changes when he comes to the end. It’s like whatever control he had over his vocal cords gets shut off. He curses a lot combined with grunts and borederline feral growls as he rams his cock harder and deeper into you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Crosshair has a real jealously streak, especially when it comes to regs.

While he’s confident in his abilities, he’s aware more than Wrecker or even Tech that they’re basically a bunch of freaks the Republic likes to keep under wraps. A funny little lab experiment. While regs were made just as much as he was, they actually have a chance at being...well, normal after all is said and done. He’s not sure he’ll ever be normal. So, the fear of you realizing you’re dating an actual freak of nature weighs on him constantly.

He needs to remind himself that you’re with him, that you chose him and you’re not going to walk away. It drives him crazy that you make him feel that way, but it’s the truth.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Just as long as his clone brothers (a solid 8-inches), but not as thick. Not that he need that extra edge. His talent is precision after all.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I’d say he has the highest of the batch, actually getting agitated if he hasn’t had a good fuck in more than a few days. His hand can only do so much for him before he gets down right hostile.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I’d say it takes him a solid half-hour to finally fall asleep after sex. He’d never tell you, but he likes the feeling of you asleep in his arms. He’ll savor it for as long as he can.

#crosshair #crosshair x reader #clone force 99 #the bad batch #star wars #the clone wars #lemon

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still-busy-being-mortal · 3 years

Text

the rising of the moon

word count: 4544

rating: G

fandom: the mechanisms

warnings: major character death

summary: They've lived so long together, perhaps it is only fitting they die alone.

story notes: so this came about as a result of wanting to cry MORE about the mechs. don't ask me why.

features raphaella spouting unnecessary science jargon, ivy being emotionally repressed/depressed, drumbot brian holding a conversation with himself, and the toy soldier being actually emotionally intelligent.

——————

JONNY

It’s a quiet day aboard the starship formerly known as The Aurora. Most of the crew is out, and she’s drifting slowly through a dusty asteroid field. Ivy has stayed aboard to read, and Drumbot Brian was designated ship-sitter, so he’s stayed on as well. When enough time has passed (Is it days? Or decades? No one knows anymore, and no one cares. They are all so tired.), Brian hits the alert switch that will tell the Mechanisms to come home.

Ivy feels the gentle vibration in her brain --the pulse of The Aurora’s beacon-- and she puts her book down before walking slowly to the navigation bridge. Marius’ hand starts to buzz, messing up his note-taking; he apologizes to the rather fascinating asteroid-dweller he’s interviewing and takes his leave. Ashes feels their chest hum, and they turn away from their beautiful, fiery meteor shower.

[read more on ao3, or continue below!]

One by one, the Mechs find their way home. It takes some longer than others, but they all return eventually. Or they should; right now, there are only seven crewmates in the navigation bridge.

“I’m sick of waiting--where the hell is Jonny?” Tim whines.

“I guess he decided to stay in the asteroid belt?” Marius says.

“Woulda been nice to let us know,” mutters Ashes, “So we’re not all sittin’ here for ages.”

Brian stands and raises his hand. “All in favour of leaving and returning in a few decades?” They all agree, so he pilots Aurora away from the asteroid field.

Time goes by, and they do not hear from Jonny. Of course, members of the crew sometimes stay away for long periods of time, but that doesn’t mean their absence is not felt. And Jonny hasn’t appeared to try and contact them at all.

After a while, they vote to return to the asteroid belt. When they arrive, they split up, communication devices in hand.

Ivy combs through her memory, trying to summon any knowledge she has on Asteroid Field 01.18.20. The Toy Soldier moves methodically from meteor to meteor, searching for their lost comrade. Raphaella interviews any inhabitants she comes across, axially coding their qualitative responses to identify patterns in the data. Tim goes to a bar for a drink, irritated at Jonny’s latest antic.

He walks into some nameless, backwater joint and sits at the counter, flagging down the bartender with a lazy wave. He orders and waits, mechanical eyes roving the establishment. And then he freezes.

On the far wall hang a few dozen photographs, all dusty and poor quality. Above the photos is a crudely-done banner that simply reads “Cheers to Our Past Patrons.” One of the pictures is of Jonny.

When the bartender returns, Tim asks: “What’s the deal with the wall of fame, then?”

“Oh, that,” they answer tiredly. “Just sum dark joke the old owner thought up. Them’s the folks who kicked it in this here bar, you see.”

Tim was confused. “You mean those people died here? That can’t be right; my friend’s up there, and he can’t d--he’s alive.”

The barkeep shrugged. “Don’t know, pal. We had to bury most of thems out back, if you reckon you want to check.” He chuckled darkly and went back to drink-making.

Tim quickly finished his drink and went out the back door. He debated alerting the other Mechs about this development, but decided he might as well see for himself first.

He found the makeshift graveyard quickly, small rusty mounds amid the equally rusty asteroid outback. Some displayed names on roughly carved wood planks, but obviously none of them said “Jonny d’Ville” (Tim laughed at the idea of Jonny carrying around an ID). Most were unmarked, however, so he started to dig.

He used his hands, too impatient to try and find a shovel. He came across bodies and bones in various stages of decay, but none that had any chance of being Jonny. About fed up with this ridiculous idea of his, he decided to dig up one more grave. He shovelled dirt and rocks out of the way, until his hand hit something hard and cold. Something metallic. He pulled on it, and came away with a belt. Christ , he thought.

He quickly scooped away the rest of the dirt, revealing the corpse of Captain First Mate Jonny d’Ville. Dead. Tim stumbled backward, hand fumbling for his comm. “Um, mates, I-I found him.”

The Mechanisms were different after that. Yes, Nastya had gone Out long ago, but they had never actually come across her dead corpse , so it wasn’t the same. Marius had examined his body and declared him fully, completely, and irrevocably dead. They had held a funeral, but they were all too much in shock to really remember it. All they knew was that they were down a crew member, without a captain first mate, and terribly aware of their own mortality.

ASHES

About half the crew was in Raphaella’s lab, helping her with some complex kind of experiment. Raph was mixing two viciously green liquids together, while Marius was unspooling wire from a large bobbin. The Toy Soldier was holding an ultraviolet light against a motherboard, and Ashes connected the motherboard to the chartreuse concoction using the wires. After pouring all of the chemicals, Raphaella pulled on some rubber gloves and pulled out a small pocketwatch from her shirt. “Are we ready?” she asked gleefully. Without waiting for an answer, she started the countdown. “Five! Four! Three! T--curses!” The pocketwatch slipped from her gloved grasp and fell into the churning beaker. All at once there was a flash and a bang, and the lights went out. They stood in complete silence for a minute, before the backup generators flicked on.

The Toy Soldier clapped its hands, “That Was Jolly Good! Can We Do It Again?”

“No, TS, look, I got goop on my--wait!” Marius shouted, “Where’s Ashes?” They all turned to look at where the quartermaster had been just moments before. The floor where they’d been standing was a scorched, intricate, dark pattern of swirls. “What the hell is that ?”

“I Do Not Know, But I Will Go Get The Archivist!”

TS returned with Ivy, who took one look at the patterns on the floor and asked: “Who is it that has been time travelling?”

“Time travelling?!” Raph exclaimed.

“Yes,” Ivy said, “Those marks are a perfect exemplar of the evidence left behind when one has been forcibly transported forward or backward in the time continuum. Which one of you did it? Did you happen to bring back any books?”

“It wasn’t us: it was Ashes.” Marius said, “And we don’t think they’ve come back yet.”

Ivy grew very pale. “That is highly alarming. There’s a less than 0.1% chance that a time traveller ever comes back if they do not return instantly after the outset of their journey.”

“Y-you mean Ashes might not...” Marius trailed off, “...Wait a second! That doesn’t make sense! We don’t experience time linearly!”

“That may be true, but we are not forcibly moved through it either. We are at the whim of the narrative flow, and any alteration to that usually produces negative results.”

The Toy Soldier flashed through many emotions at once, though its face never changed. “So Quartermaster O’Reilly Is...Gone?”

“We can’t prove that yet!” Raph cried, fluttering around the lab and grabbing various scientific instruments. “Maybe if I can pinpoint when exactly they’ve been transported to, we can...we can bring them back.”

“That’s quite a long shot,” Marius said.

“What is science if not a shot into the ignorant dark?” Raph replied, rigging up a technological monstrosity. She aimed the thing at the charred spot and clicked a button, causing the machine to emit a pulsating, whirring sound. “Oh, you all might want to close your eyes.”

With a burst of green and a harsh dial tone, the thing spit out a strip of paper. Raph grabbed it and read it intently. She dropped it suddenly, eyes distant and empty. “They are gone.”

The room burst into a cacophony. (“What do you mean?!” “Gone How? Gone Forever ?” “It was statistically unlikely that they could have returned.”) Raph picked up the paper and pressed it onto the lab table. Most of it was meaningless words and numbers, but Raph pointed out a string in the center: “RESULT) DATE: %& INFINITE ROUNDING ERROR $! _ LOCATION: SINGULARITY!UNIVERSAL IMPLOSION. ANALYSIS) CHANCE OF TERMINATION: 100.0% +-0.0 R = 1.0”

“They’re gone.”

RAPHAELLA

The crew was far more disorganized after Ashes left. With no one to maintain inventory or keep the crew in line, The Mechanisms started to fall apart. Raphaella tried for a while to build some kind of time-travelling device, some way of defying the inexorable march of the story, but it was in vain. She was left with only one option; one experiment she hadn’t tried yet.

She carefully laser cuts some metal from the starship once known as the Aurora. She sits in Nastya’s former workshop for hours, bending and twisting and fabricating until she is left with wings; wings more breathtaking than any she has possessed before. Once on, they fan out behind her in a starburst of blue and metallic grey.

But her crew will never see them. In the cover of darkness, she steals away to the airlock. The ship is currently sailing past a black hole (Raphaella has the Messier number and NGC identification memorized, but that’s not her concern now). With one final look backward at the place that had been her home for millennia --the place she thought she would call home forever -- she casts herself into the black hole.

Ivy finds the note she left, succinct and unmincing as ever:

“Addressed to whoever finds this first:

After a brief review of prior literature, I have found extensive holes (no pun intended) in the study of singularities, specifically as it relates to a singularity’s effect on a humanoid body and mind. I seek to rectify this, as well as explore the possibility of horological manipulation, though perhaps my methods are not entirely replicable. It is every scientist’s dream to be on the cutting edge of research, and so I initiate this experiment joyfully. Also, black holes are hypothesized to have magnificent magnetic fields!

Yours,

Dr. Raphaella La Cognizi”

TIM

Tim, Marius, the Toy Soldier, Brian, and Ivy wait. They do not wait together, and they do not know what exactly it is they’re waiting for, but they wait nevertheless.

Time passes.

Brian pilots the ship towards various planets, pointless battles, dying stars. One day, the remaining Mechs arrive at a lawless sea-based war occurring on a planet composed entirely of liquid obsidian. They commandeer a ship (which they dub the ‘Dawn’) and spend decades wreaking havoc as the most formidable group of pirates. But Tim knows something is wrong.

“Tim, take out that vessel off the starboard side.” Brian orders from the prow of the Dawn.

Tim smoothly preps, loads, and positions a cannon to aim directly at the enemy ship in question. He lights the fuse, and the cannon fires. The crew watch as the projectile hurls through the air, arcing like a cold meteor into the distance. They watch it come down towards the enemy vessel. And they watch it miss.

The crew turns to stare at Tim. He’s not nearly as mortified as they expected. In fact, he’s perfectly serene.

“Um, Tim…” Marius starts slowly, “D-did you know you, uh...missed?”

“Yep.” he responds, popping the ‘p’.

“Did you mean to?”

“Nope.”

“And...you’re not upset by that?”

“Not especially.”

(“That’s a fascinatingly abnormal psychological response,” Marius mutters under his breath, jotting something down in a notebook he appears to have produced out of nowhere.)

The crew continues to stare as Tim goes below deck to his bunk, humming slightly.

Tim has known something was off for a long time now. His aim started to err by nanometres, then by millimeters, then more, until he was missing entire ships like today. He’d panicked at the beginning, of course, but now? Now, he was ready to be done.

He’d felt the pressure building up in his head, behind his eyes. He got spurts of tunnel vision randomly, and sometimes his vision just went to static. He gradually lost the ability to see some colors, as the electronic rods and cones went out one-by-one and refused to self-repair. But he wasn’t nervous or distressed or alarmed; he was excited.

You see, he’d been saving something for a special occasion. He didn’t know what ‘special occasion’ entailed, since the Mechs never consistently celebrated holidays or birthdays, but permanent death seemed like a pretty good one. He rooted around in his rucksack, and withdrew a set of shiny silver keys; keys he’d stolen a long, long time ago. These were the ignition keys to the largest gunship existence will ever see, and Tim planned to go out with a bang. That evening, he told the crew he wanted them all to return to the starship so he could be dropped off somewhere. They all agreed, since they didn’t have any real cares anymore, and they set off for the planet Tim had etched into his memory.

Tim sits in the cockpit of the gunship, the planet itself already ruined and smoking from fighting his way to get here. The Mechanisms were long gone, as he’d told them to leave without him. He hadn’t exactly said he wasn’t planning on coming back, but he thinks they understood. With one last grin of pure, unadulterated madness, he kicks the gunship into gear and blasts off.

The ship goes too fast to comprehend, and in an instant he’s shooting across the cosmos, shattering stars and razing entire systems of planets. The universe has never before witnessed such complete and utter desolation. Tim doesn’t process much during this rampage...until he starts to die.

He doesn’t know what he hit, but something has jolted the gunship just right, and he’s flung out the front glass. He knows he should die instantly, and he is, but his eyes are moving faster. They’re replaying his life, backwards, and he wants to groan with the cliché-ness of it all. But then it’s over. Or, almost over. At the very end, so fast, so short compared to the millennia he has lived, he catches sight of a young man in a trench. Bertie. A face he will never forget no matter how much longer he could have lived. And in the moments of blackness before he stops forever, he thinks about Bertie, about what comes next.

Faith is a moot point when you’re immortal, since you’ve quite literally come into contact with gods and demons, eldritch horrors and cosmic powers. But here, at the end of his wretchedly long existence, Tim wonders if he will ever see Bertie again. If he will ever see Jonny, or TS, or Ashes, or anyone ever again.

He dies blind, with their names on his lips.

IVY

Exposition: Ivy is quite spectacular at suppressing her emotions. She’s also skilled at identifying patterns, so by the time Raphaella left, she knew what was going on with 98% certainty. Without much fanfare, she packed her bags (5 for books and 1 for everything else), said goodbye to Marius, Brian, and the Toy Soldier, and left.

She rifled through her memory archives for the quaintest library she knew of, and headed there.

Rising Action: And so time passed.

Ivy read, and organized, and wrote, and...existed. Nothing happened, and nothing changed. Carmilla must have made an error in her mechanization because she’d never been the best at processing feelings, but she was happy, she thought.

Climax: A war came, and her library was attacked. With the numbest, most detached sense of purpose imaginable, she loaded an escape pod with random books she thought should be preserved and fired it out into the void. She didn’t even know she’d been hit until she’d fallen to the floor, blood streaming from a massive wound. She knows she is dying; she’d seen the patterns.

Denouement: Her brain whirs slower and slower, until it stops. The end.

MARIUS

They are not a crew any longer. Brian has firmly rooted himself on the bridge, more robot than man now. The Toy Soldier wanders the ship, searching for its friends who are playing the best game of hide-and-seek that the universe has ever seen. Marius putters along, doing some maintenance, writing down his thoughts, and waiting for his death.

He’d always known this life of theirs couldn’t last. Besides the conceptual and moral implications of an eternal existence without consequences, it didn’t even make sense physically . There was no such thing as a perpetual motion machine, and he was surprised his more rational-minded crewmates didn’t question it more. But now his theory had come to fruition, and his crew, his family , had slowly dropped off one-by-one, like leaves from an autumnal tree.

He’s at a bit of a loose end now. With no people left to talk to, no minds to pick, he doesn’t feel any sense of purpose. It’s not depression--he knows that; it’s more of a...cosmic futility.

He feels one last pull, one last tug of the all-pervading narrative, a tide of finality, urging him towards a certain door. He knows this door, knows what it means when he opens it. But he also knows all things come to an end eventually, so why not go out doing what he always did? Providing the comic relief.

“Time this for me, will you, Aurora?” he calls out. He turns the handle and steps inside.

BRIAN

Since Jonny’s death, Brian has been at war with himself. He supposes he’s always been at war with himself though, and his current moral quandary reminds him uncomfortably of his first.

Sitting on the bridge alone, he decides to have a conversation.

“So the crux of the problem is that we can bring people back from the dead, correct?”

He flips his switch. “Correct.”

He flips it back. “But the dilemma is whether we should bring the Mechs back or not.”

“Also correct.”

“Which we shouldn’t, because they wanted to die.”

“No, we should. We want them alive, right? Using magic is definitely the easiest way to achieve that.”

“But we need our family to be happy. God knows how long it’s been.”

“Is the end goal their happiness or our happiness?”

“If I answer that, will I change your mind?”

“Is altering the end goal really the moral way to win this argument?”

“You know what? Damn you.”

Time passes, and each crewmate’s departure only makes Brian’s contempt for his own inner hesitation grow. He spends years staring out into the cosmos, thoughts whirling just as fast as the dust and gases beyond the glass. He wonders if he will ever die and join his family, or if the degree of his artificiality will render him truly immortal. He hates that thought more than most anything else.

He stops smelling the smoke of Ashes’ fires one day, and wonders if his olfactory systems are shutting down.

He stops feeling the rumble of Raphaella’s experimental explosions, and wonders if his nerve endings are rusting.

He stops seeing the flash of Tim’s gunshots bounce around the corridors, and wonders if he’s gone as blind as the gunner himself.

He stops hearing Ivy’s narration, and wonders if his auditory fluids have finally trickled away.

One day, the lone violin that has been echoing throughout the empty starship fades out, and Brian feels his heart stop.

It restarts of course, but Brian knows.

He knows that it’s finally, finally time. Soon, very soon, there will be no more life aboard this ship. No life, where there had been life for eons. No life, where there had been life immortal.

His sense of taste has never come into doubt, because he can still taste the acridness of the Toy Soldier’s cooking wafting on the air. He decides it’s only right to bid goodbye, so he makes his way back to the kitchen. On the way, he passes the Doctor’s old laboratory. He briefly considers destroying it, bringing down the whole ship in a blaze of fire and brimstone, but he knows that isn’t right; it wouldn’t fulfill anything.

In the kitchen, the Toy Soldier is pulling something pink and grey and on fire out of the oven. “Hey, TS,” Brain says gently, leaning against the doorframe as his heart falters again. “I-I’ve got to talk to you.”

The Toy Soldier spins around. “Drumbot Brian!” it shouts joyfully. “How Have You Been, Old Chap! I Have Been Playing Hide-And-Seek With The Rest Of The Crew For A While Now, And They Are Definitely Winning! Have You Seen Them?”

“Oh, TS,” Brian says sadly, “We’re all who’s left now. Don’t you know? The others have gone.”

He sees the Toy Soldier’s wooden eyes soften, betraying an agedness he’s never seen before. “Of Course I Know, Bean. But What Have We Been Doing This Whole Time, If Not Pretending?”

Brian smiles sorrowfully, and TS matches it. “I just wanted to let you know, TS, that now it’s my turn to go.”

“I Know.” It salutes him. “Goodbye, Drumbot.”

Brain gently returns the salute, and leaves.

He stumbles through the ship, heart failing rapidly now, but he makes it to the airlock. He knows deep down that there’s only one way his story could end. His whole existence has been framed by empty solitude, with his family providing the best aberration one could wish for. With his body more an empty metal frame than a robot now, he opens the airlock and casts himself back into the cosmos, from whence he came, and where he would die.

THE TOY SOLDIER

Its friends are all gone away now, and it knows this. There is no more laughter aboard the starship once known as the Aurora. There is no more gunfire or explosions. There is no more music. The cold mass of metal drifts through the void of the uncaring cosmos, with no living being aboard.

But The Toy Soldier has to be sure; it has to guarantee that it is truly all alone now. So it visits its friends’ final resting places.

It spends some years gazing out the front windows of the ship. The thrusters have been broken for a long time now, and the Toy Soldier doesn’t know how to repair them, so it just sits and watches. It wants to see the Drumbot, so it pretends that it does. Soon enough, out the starboard porthole, it spies him. His metal is rusted and warped, frost rendering most of his face unrecognizable. A drum is still looped around his shoulder. The Toy Soldier tethers itself to the ship and goes outside for a moment, drifting towards the robot. It lays a wooden hand on his deformed chest, and feels that his heart beats no longer. It carves off a long curl of wood from its side, and places it in Brian’s frozen hand.

It returns to the ship. It hadn’t known where Marius had disappeared to, but now it feels the force of the narrative driving it towards a certain room. It opens the door, and a handful of mangy octokittens hiss at it and scurry away. There’s nothing in the room besides a pile of crumpled clothes, a broken violin, and a metal hand, but the Toy Soldier could recognize that style anywhere. It gently twists one of its own wooden hands off, and lays it on the mound.

The Toy Soldier knows that Ivy went somewhere far away, so it closes its eyes and pretends that it’s there. When it opens them again, it finds itself in the charred ruins of some great marble building. At its feet lay bones, a metal flute, and a mess of circuitry, untouched by the ash. The Toy Soldier reaches up, removes a piece of wood from the back of its head, and lays it besides the flute.

The Toy Soldier has a harder time finding the gunner. It’s drawn this way and that, chasing an intangible trail through the stars and galaxies. All of the planets it passes are devoid of life. Finally, finally, it stumbles across an enormous, gaping wreck of a starship, all mangled and smashed to pieces. The ship is so large, it’s drawn smaller asteroids into an orbit around it. On one of these rocky satellites, the Toy Soldier spies a body: a skeleton covered in a long brown coat with a guitar slung across it. A pair of mutilated, metal eyes rest in the skull. The Toy Soldier smiles sadly, removes one of its own wooden eyes, and slips it into the pocket of the coat.

It knows it cannot follow the science officer into a black hole. It does manage to find the sketches of the wings Raphaella designed, so it gathers them up, takes two chunks of wood from its back, finds Raph’s keyboard, and casts everything into the nearest singularity.

After pretending to be at the end of space and time, it finds itself there. There is nothing, absolutely nothing. It removes two segments of wood from deep within its chest and places them in the nothingness, along with the strings of an old electric bass it had found. As it winks back to the ship, it catches the faintest scent of gasoline.

It returns to the asteroid Jonny had died on, the start of their ignoble demise. It visits his grave, in the taupe dirt of the desert behind the backwater bar, and sees all of the trinkets and mementos the crew had left behind. It knows none of them left anything during their makeshift funeral, so that means each of them must have slipped away at some point to come here on their own. Ashes has left their best lighter, Tim a pair of dogtags. Marius left behind all of his notes of Jonny’s disaster of a brain, and Brian has deposited some sun-scorched piece of space station. His harmonica has also found its way here, somehow. The Toy Soldier slowly, slowly reaches into its chest and removes its wooden heart, laying it down atop the mound of dirt and memories. It walks away, and knows that it can finally, finally stop pretending.

AURORA

There is no record of where the Toy Soldier went next. It certainly did not return to the empty ship once known as the brilliant Aurora. The lifeless, soulless, music-less ship drifts on alone through the cosmos, rusting and warping until no one could tell it had ever been a ship at all. Eons pass, and whatever memory the universe might have had of The Mechanisms has been utterly lost.

Until the misshapen mass gets stuck in the orbit of a planet. Molded and formed by the planet’s gravity, the ship is reborn as a moon. And all at once, she comes to life.

As dawn washes over her, the young moon hears a voice. “Hello, dear,” a woman coos, “My name is Dr. Carmilla.”

#hi please read my fic #am i posting it yet again? yes #the rising of the moon #the mechanisms #fiction #ao3

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squidproquoclarice · 3 years

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What’s Arthur’s recovery treatment like in Sunrise in terms of medically, because it was really interesting to see such a realistic view on how he would recover from the drastic effects of TB. And the way you wrote that the TB although dormant is always gunna be there with him for the rest of his life was a good other aspect to his character, and added to the strength he has, considering the stigma too attached to the disease at that time, and especially once you get to the last chapter and see how far he’s come from the first chapter, I was just like good for him. It was great.

Combining this with another similar Ask: “Can you talk about Arthur’s proceduree with the cactus? Just that him living one with those scars of treatment.. it’s great for the story”. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So as I’ve remarked on his gunshot wound, I hate “Hollywood” medicine and how it gives us such an inaccurate impression of what treatment and recovery for something is like. It was important to me that I depicted the actual process of dealing with tuberculosis recovery realistically, both medically and for the period. I didn’t want to just skip ahead to three years later and go “And Arthur was well again”. I also absolutely didn’t want to go the route that I’ve seen of claiming “nonspecific magic Indian cure from Rains Fall” because holy shit, that’s exoticism-as-Other and racism. Arthur is badly off at the end of Chapter 6. His TB has run him down to the point where, combined with his fight injuries and hypothermia, it was too much for him in-game. That’s really not something you can sleep off for a few days or get rid of by popping a few DayQuil. Being as antibiotics were several decades in the future, TB was everywhere at the time of RDR2. It was one of the leading causes of death in 1900 America at 194 deaths per 100,000 people. To give you a comparison to another deadly communicable respiratory disease that kills slowly, leaves chronic impact to survivors, and has huge impacts to society, daily life, and public health? As per Johns Hopkins University stats, the current American COVID-19 death rate is 149 deaths per 100K. That’s how bad TB was. Tuberculosis wasn’t a guaranteed death sentence like people assume from the game. But yes, it was very likely. Roughly 1/2 to 2/3 of people who contract active tuberculosis die within five years without antibiotic treatment. Although interestingly, those who make it to 5 years in untreated tuberculosis then show a 60% spontaneous remission rate. So making it to 5 years was unlikely, but your odds got pretty decent at that point. Arthur's a resilient man who's beaten the odds before, so I figured it wasn't impossible for him to do so again. In terms of actually getting into the details of medical treatment, 1900 is an interesting point in TB history. It's sort of a transition point between two regimens of treatment.

The first is the post-Civil War "rest cure" (advised to Arthur by Dr. Barnes in St. Denis) of going to a climate thought to be more helpful to TB sufferers, and from there getting as much rest and fresh air as possible, and just hoping for the best. TB was actually a significant part of the Old West as plenty of people came westward for that supposed better climate. What the ideal climate was varied depending who you asked (hot, hot and dry, mountainous, forest, etc.), and spoiler alert: climate doesn't really affect TB recovery. Getting away from crowded cities was probably the more effective thing. That relied very heavily on patient initiative, though, and the ability of a family to provide any necessary care, as well as to uproot and move to another place. Obviously for those in poverty, not likely to happen. We see this with Thomas Downes, who clearly is poor enough that he wouldn't have had that option. Many didn’t. Many died because they simply couldn’t stop working, let alone move halfway across the country. There were a few sanatoriums/well-known rest places, but they were few and far between. After 1900, and increasingly after WWI, the notion turned more to TB as an issue requiring direct medical intervention rather than letting people quietly hope for the best. That led to patients often undergoing quarantine and a formal treatment regimen (which still relied a lot upon rest and fresh air) in either a private or government-run sanatorium. People went in until they recovered enough to show numerous consecutive negative TB tests and the disease had become latent, or they died. Some took years to leave, and some took years to die. This is the institutional phase of TB treatment, and it lasted until it got increasingly superseded by the antibiotic phase post-WWII. What I did with Las Hermanas was create something in that transition phase. It's a TB ward with a more structured treatment regimen, but there's not the strict bureaucratic oversight and total isolation of patients from family and the world that you see later. I did bring that notion in later in 1907 with Sadie seeing a poster in New Hanover for the new state-run Six Points TB Sanatorium advising that TB patients would be quarantined there. Las Hermanas' treatment is more the hallmark of a forward-thinking doctor. Felipe Garcia's trying different things in treatment with that mentality, and taking the unusual step of keeping families with patients (which wouldn't be the case later). It's something that worked on a micro level, but probably couldn't have happened on a macro level as a nationwide program, so Arthur and Sadie are lucky to have hit upon it. The total bed rest for a while to start to give the lungs a chance to recover is accurate to some TB treatments of the time, and also later. The treatment there at Las Hermanas does include artificial pneumothorax. Again, Felipe's a bit ahead of the curve. It was a known treatment at the time, having been reported, as he says, at an AMA conference in Denver several years before. It had been noted that spontaneous lung collapse (pneumothorax) in a patient actually had i,proved their TB, and the idea of inducing that collapse deliberately (e.g., "artificial" pneumothorax) got kicked around some. But it didn't really become commonplace as a treatment until post-1912 with Italian physician Carlo Forlanini "rediscovering" the technique and getting visibility for it--he'd actually been among its pioneers thirty years earlier. But the fascination with microbiological advancements, including Robert Koch's identification and description of the tuberculosis bacteria in 1882, meant it got sort of shelved for a while. Again, this increasing use post-1912 is also coinciding with the rise of sanatoriums, where controlled treatment regimens under a doctor’s close direction were more possible. Essentially what happens in classic artificial pneumothorax (AP from here on in) therapy is introducing gas--either air or nitrogen--into the cavity surrounding the lungs (*not* the lung itself) via needle and bellows apparatus. For video of classic AP being performed around 1925 in a patient in Chicago, watch the first 3 minutes of this video. It does a good job showing exactly what the procedure looked like, what the equipment looked like, etc. Side note: local anesthetic was definitely used in later years because being jabbed with a decent sized needle deeply enough to puncture your chest wall is not fun. It's very possible Felipe might have used it, as local anesthetic was a concept known and somewhat used at the time. It very likely would have been a localized injection of cocaine as more familiar, still-used local anesthetics like lidocaine and novocaine were years in the future. But, hey, for a cowboy game that's period accurate enough that it gives you cocaine gum, using cocaine as a local anesthetic isn't unreasonable. ;) The AP apparatus, once it was hooked up, put enough gas in there to cause enough pressure and force to induce a partial or full collapse of an infected lung. That would help rest that lung or that part of it from struggling to breathe, and also provide an oxygen-deprived environment that would help kill the TB bacteria swarming in the lesions and cavities they had chewed into the tissue of the lungs. Bonus: breathing on one or one-and-partial lung also probably generally obliged patients to rest more. For one quick set of statistics, 23 of 40 patients with lungs successfully collapsed by AP in 1913 showed dramatic improvement in their TB. So not a magic bullet, but a tool that perhaps upped your odds when done right. There were more severe AP methods also used later, including phrenectomy and thoracoplasty, but those wouldn't have been seen in 1899 in this case. The problem is that the AP gas pumped into the pleura would eventually leak out, or be absorbed by the body tissue. There's a somewhat vivid detail in Thomas Mann's "Magic Mountain", a 1924 novel about a TB sanatorium, of a whistling sound issuing from the AP hole. So the AP process had to be repeated at regular intervals, often called "refills", usually cited as about two weeks from what I read. AP treatment often continued after symptoms stopped, because they wanted to be damn sure that they hadn't treated only enough to just get ahead of the TB or that this wasn’t just a temporary up-cycle, and the disease was well and truly in remission. They confirmed this in later years with actual tests for TB at regular intervals to track that progress. I kept that two week refill schedule for Arthur, and also its effect on keeping him tethered to Las Hermanas for a few more years even after he has a more normal, active life. I think (?) I wrote him as stopping treatments sometime in late 1902, so roughly three years total, and two years post-release as no longer actively symptomatic. All in all, I wrote a treatment that wasn't widespread at the time, but would have been very possible with the knowledge and equipment available. I went the AP route in the end because I wanted to give Arthur more than just bed rest both for higher survival odds, and also because I think now-obsolete medical history in fiction is interesting. The effects are some of the things I noted in Arthur throughout Sunrise. Getting jabbed with a needle every two weeks for years is going to produce some scars on the skin. It would be a tight cluster given you wanted to place your needle very carefully, but they would exist. We see something similar now with "track marks" in those addicted to intravenous drugs, and I think I noted Arthur or Sadie remembering Swanson having something like it in his arm from years of addiction to injected opiates. Working on that one or one-and-partial lung during all AP refills also means that Arthur is incapable of really hard daily physical labor, even after being released from Las Hermanas. The lung capacity, and the stamina, just isn't there. That was one factor that impacted his ability to get a regular job, which has the effects we see in 1904 of them worrying about money. That's also because even after he's got two fully-inflated and working lungs in later years, he's still not 100%. While the lesions on the lungs may heal and send the TB into remission, they don't become healthy lung tissue again. They become scars that still would be visible in later years when X-rays became more common. So there's a lack of both flexibility to contract/expand and surface area for oxygen exchange that were there with healthy tissue. In other words, Arthur's lungs are permanently running on a reduced capacity. His stamina and strength and resilience are going to be affected. He's never going to be exactly what he was before becoming sick due to permanent effects of the damage, as well as just the fact of him going from 36 to 48 and thus just getting into middle age. If Sunrise was an actual playable game using the RDR2 system, I'd depict that as Arthur's Stamina and Health cores being permanently damaged and capped at a lower level than before. Probably down 3 bars for the Wapiti chapter and his first six months at Las Hermanas (due to the near-death status initially and then massive muscle and strength loss from all that bed rest), down 2 for the next six months at Las Hermanas and all of 1901 after his release, and down 1 for 1904/1907/1911 and the rest of his life. The other thing is Arthur can't be "cured" with the medicine of the time. That was pretty much impossible in the pre-antibiotic era given the bacteria could never be entirely killed off in the lungs. The best you could do was get strong and healthy enough for your immune system to effectively keep the ones left contained and inactive. So while TB survivors could live healthy, happy lives, they knew that there was always a chance that TB could always come back. Hence Felipe chewing Arthur out more than once for pushing himself too hard and risking getting run down enough for the TB to have an easier time gaining a foothold again. So his lifestyle's permanently changed in some ways. He learns to recognize the signs of approaching exhaustion, and having to back away from it and slow down or rest. Sadie's necessarily become attuned to this as well. Arthur has to learn his own limits for the sake of self-care, and I think that's not a bad thing given he'd never had any real sense of self-preservation before. He can't just keep pushing like he used to do, telling himself he'll make up for it later. He has to commit to taking care of himself for his sake as well as Sadie's well-being, because he knows she can't lose him, just like he can't lose her. He has to do it later for their children too. Recognizing that taking care of yourself for the sake of your loved ones is actually protecting and showing them love too, rather than selfishness, is a big step forward for him. I'll do the work to take care of myself so I can better be here for you, so I don't cause you the pain of watching me suffer or die, plus the emotional and financial and logistical burdens of my not being there. As first Anon noted, he and Sadie tend to keep hush about it unless they can trust someone, given the stigma associated with TB due to fear of the disease. At some points, Arthur has to wonder if this person knew the truth about him whether he'd be more of a pariah as a notorious outlaw or as a TB survivor. It didn't necessarily matter that the disease was latent. All people had to hear was "tuberculosis". So something like the fact Drew MacFarlane as the father of a TB victim himself not only doesn't stigmatize Arthur, but is willing to work around the TB restrictions, means a lot to both Arthur and Sadie.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #sunrise ama #may the sunrise #writing #fiction #historical medicine #Anonymous #long post

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qvid-pro-qvo · 3 years

Note

hi :-) maybe the prompts “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.” and "Wow." with Sonny please?

we’re back, baby! consider this a woohoo for season 22. sonny carisi x gender neutral reader.

word count: 2164

rating: e for everyone, for long-distance coming together once more (hurt/comfort. no trigger warnings. just love.)

It’s been one year, three months, and nine days since you’ve seen Dominick Carisi, Jr. in person. You would add the hours and the minutes, but you think that everyone you talk to gets the picture. When you mention your boyfriend, it’s the one who’s across a country, the one who you call every night, the one who works a tireless job as an NYPD detective. They know, because you can’t stop talking about him.

He’s incredible, after all. Decorated, dedicated, a sweetheart.

He’s incredible, after all. Decorated, dedicated, a sweetheart. You’re gonna marry him, you can’t help but gush, because there’s no one else for you in the whole wide world.

Your friends think you’re insane. After all, there’s something about long-distance that makes everyone nervous. But you don’t let them make you antsy, because you’re the one who gets a call from him every night, especially the nights he works.

Those calls get you through a lot. Those calls get you through good days and bad, those calls are a majority of the relationship now. Calls, FaceTimes, voicemails, texts, emails even… that’s all you both have.

And they go a little something like this.

The first call you make after you land in California is to his cell.

Leaving him had felt like leaving your heart and soul back in New York, it’d felt like getting torn apart, it’d felt like a lot of horrible things. But you’d had to, and Sonny’d known that.

You’d known it, too. But knowing doesn’t make packing up any easier. Knowing doesn’t make the plane ride any less lonely. Knowing doesn’t make unpacking a box and finding one of his shirts that accidentally traveled with you any less world-shattering.

It’s to his cell. He picks up almost immediately. You can hear the hustle and bustle of a New York street behind him, a few honks. It’s early, after all, and you’ve traveled back in time. Your body thinks it’s noon, when it’s really nine, and when you step off of the plane the sun hits yours eyes, bright and unexpected. You’re dressed too warm for California, since it’s perfect for the place you left.

You hate it here.

It’s not home.

“Hey,” he breathes into the receiver. You just let out a little gasp. The tears immediately spring to your eyes, but you do your best to keep your head held high, looking around for your luggage.

“Hey, Sonny. I made it. Just. Wanted to let you know.”

“Good. That’s… that’s good.”

The words aren’t enough. They don’t feel like they ever will be.

“So, how’s California look?” he finally asks, when the silence stretches on a little too long. You’ve missed your luggage on the carousel and finally snag it, balancing your phone on your shoulder as you pull off the stuff that’s waiting for you.

So many bags. Your whole life packed away. The rest of it getting shipped.

Your whole life except Sonny. Doesn’t feel like much, but you know it’ll get better. Eventually. With time.

“Sunny,” you finally say, and he snorts.

“Not too sunny without me, I hope.”

You manage a laugh. It’s watery, but it’s a laugh. “Never.”

With time.

The morning calls are for you.

He’s already up and at ‘em by the time you’re stirring, and his phone is usually what rouses you. It’s a brilliant alarm clock, one that has you sitting as upright as you can and pulling him close to your ear. His voice makes you want to pull yourself under the covers, settle in and listen for a few hours or days.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.”

You know by this point he’s on his second or third cup of coffee. It depends on how bad the cases are that day, how deep he is in paperwork. But even with the caffeine, the 7:00 AM for you is 10:00 AM for him, and he still sounds like he just rolled out of bed.

“Good morning,” you return, and he chuckles a little, because the sound of your voice is the same level of exhausted. And yet, with his call, you’re rising, throwing back the blankets, moving to the bathroom to start your routine. He’s got fifteen minutes, and you’ve got thirty-five before you have to leave, and you’ll spend the twenty without his voice in your ear thinking about his voice in your ear, and maybe texting him, too.

The nighttime calls are for him.

Those, you get to see his face. After all, your 7:00 PM is his 10:00 PM, and some days he’s actually going to bed at that hour. Some days he’s at your shared apartment, sitting in bed with your pillows holding himself up.

Some days he’s in the office. Those calls are short, but sweet.

But what ends up happening is that you start your day with him, and some days, some blissful nights, he gets to go to sleep with you. Seeing you.

“Hey, baby,” you say. You’re usually just getting home at that point, tossing keys into a dish, shutting your door and locking it tight so that Sonny can hear it, see it. It gives him reassurance, the length of a country away. “How was your day?”

“Same old, same old,” he starts out, always, even when the day’s been thrilling, brilliant, a great time. “A day without you.”

And you coo and hum, and he laughs at the scrunch of your nose, and the two of you begin and end your nighttime routines, the days drifting away, another night closer to being reunited.

The last call you make from California is for the both of you.

“Wow.” It’s all he can manage. After all, the nights come with face time, and you’ve posed the camera perfectly. You’re dressed to the nines, and you can tell his eyes are scanning you from head to toe. “Jealous of whoever gets to see you at dinner.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “My bosses, Dom. They’re having a going away dinner. A week early, but.”

“I get it, I get it. You’re wanting to tease.” His voice is light, and you wink at him, reaching for your phone and pulling it close so you can see the details. There are bags under his eyes, and he looks a little ragged – it’s been a tough week, he’s told you, one case dogging them day and night. You’re hoping that you can cheer him up, when you get to see him, sooner rather than later.

“Tease you, Dominick Carisi, Jr.? I wouldn’t dare!” you say, and the two of you laugh, through the exhaustion.

“I miss you,” he states. It’s not an admittance, because the two of you have never hidden it. You miss each other, and as your scheduled return date edges closer you can feel the nervous energy. He’s never looked more drained, and you’d do anything to take it from him, the exhaustion.

“I’ll be back soon,” you assure him, and he nods. The conversation lasts a few moments more, and then he has to go, and then you have to go. And you leave with a promise, that you’ll be there before he knows it.

Sooner than he thinks, that’s for sure.

One year. Three months. Nine days. But today, that number falls back to zero.

It’s the first call you make once you land, stomp out your boots of the snow you weren’t expecting. You’re used to California winter, mild and warm, and so the New York chill takes you by surprise. Makes you blink, when you peer out from under the awning of the rental car pick-up and feel snow land in your hair. But it’s home, the snow on your boots, the way the wind whips up around your face. You hold your phone up to your ear and let out a shiver.

It rings. Once, twice, three times.

“Hey, doll.”

He answers, and his voice is weary. It’s late, after all, and you’ve lost a few hours, so the direct flight, while five-and-a-half hours, deposits you eight-and-a-half hours in the future with a stomach rumbling for real food and no sun in sight.

He answers. It’s with a yawn, and you realize that you’re hearing the sound of slamming filing cabinets, and you think that in the background you can hear his lieutenant’s voice. He’s living his life, in his world, and you’re so proud of him you can hardly speak. Because you know that he’s working hard when he works late. Working himself to death, it feels like sometimes.

“Hey, Dom. Is this a bad time?” you ask, immediately. Because your surprise is one that works just as well if you’re at the apartment, if you’re cooking him a warm meal or cozied up on the couch for him. But his noise is a negative.

“Nah, just finishing up a case. Took a perp into custody. Wanted to stay behind and see it through before I ditched.”

You’re not fighting exhaustion. You’re trembling from the cold, and shivering from the exposure, and vibrating with happiness as you hand over your credit card to the man behind the counter. The plane ride isn’t beating your delight as you grin at the sound of him. The way his words are lined with the effort of the whole team.

“Great, great. That’s great,” you say, and he must pick up on something. Because his answering hum is teasing, light.

“You sound like the cat that caught the canary,” he laughs. After all, you both have gotten intimately familiar with voices these long months apart, and you know he’s right. So you don’t argue it, just laugh, bite your lower lip as you take your card back.

“Well. Maybe I am,” you say lightly, and push your way through the lines of cars. You keep beeping, hoping to hear something, with no luck just yet. “Are you the canary?”

He chuckles, and you know he’s shrugging with it. “I sure hope so.”

Maybe he’s tilting his head back, leaning in his chair, looking up at the ceiling of the precinct as he talks. Maybe he’s bending forward, hand in his hair, elbows on his knees. Maybe he’s crossing a leg over the other, tapping his fingers on the armrests of his chair. You’ll know soon enough, won’t have to imagine for much longer.

“I think you are. After all, I’ve laid the perfect trap for you,” you say, and you make your voice light, airy. Your carry on and three suitcases are being dragged slowly and carefully behind you, and you finally hear the beep of the car you’re meant to drive for the next three days. It’ll only do a job for one, after all, but it doesn’t need to know that.

“The perfect trap. What’s that?”

“A stop on my way home.” The trunk of the rental beeps, pops open. “I’ve been thinking about it for five hours.”

A beat passes, and you almost think the call’s been dropped. But then Sonny clears his throat, and your grin stretches wide. “What?” There’s a shift in his throat, that you can hear. One that comes with him sitting up. You can see it, if you close your eyes, ignore the windiness of the parking garage.

“Well, you see, if I book it, I can make it that shop before they close. What it’s called… the one by our place?”

And you hear his breath catch. It’s a beautiful sound. It works perfectly with the sound of your luggage tossed in the trunk.

“Yeah, that one. And if I really hurry, then I might be able to pick you up from the precinct.” Your eyes close for a moment, dip your head as you pull back and close the back of the car. When you make it to the car, turn it on, you can hear something like a hiccup leave him, the shuffle of papers, his jaw pop as it unclenches.

“You’re – you’re back in New York?” And his accent is so thick the words run together. “You’re home?”

And when you laugh it’s thick, too. For a different reason, one that has you wiping at your face, as the engine runs. You sniffle, and he sniffles a little, too, and you can hear his lieutenant’s voice again in the background, muffled.

“Just – just a second, lieu,” he mumbles. He sounds dazed. Confused.

“Stay there,” you insist. “Okay? I’m coming to get you, and then I’ll take you home, and…”

“And?” His voice is hoarse. Cracks, and you chuckle despite yourself. The thought of home. The thought of Sonny Carisi, after all this time. The thought of pulling him close and hugging him tight and leaning into his touches. His touches. The car’s engine is running, and one of your hands reaches for the wheel, runs your fingers along the curve.

“And be yours again, Dom. For as long as you’ll have me.”

#prompt fill #sonny carisi x reader #gender neutral reader #sonny carisi #law and order: svu #my fic #law and order svu

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