His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)
Chapter One: One Door Closes
Okay SO!!! I have been working on making this a series for such a long time and after a lot of trial and error it’s FINALLY in the works and the first chapter is DONE. It’s a lot shorter than the ones to come but it’s a good starting point I think!
Depending on how long you’ve been here you may no I did a one-shot for this fic a long ass time ago called Darling Dahlia. Well, I’ve changed the name but this is it! The first chapter! I wanna give a huge massive thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for not only editing and beta reading the first chapter but for giving me the motivation to finally bring Dahlia to life after so many months of me getting so annoyed and frustrated at my lack of progress. THANK YOU DUDE!
Word count: Almost 1.5k
Warnings: The whole fic will be rated explicit, language, teasing, trauma, mentions of the Woodsbro murders, death (yes already but don’t worry!) Mickey being a complete ass, Dahlia being an ass right back to him
Dahlia’s face claim is below!
Here we go! Chapter One!
You know them times where it seems like absolutely everything goes wrong all at once? You fail a test, forget to defrost the fucking chicken or your cousin decides to go on a murder spree all within the same day?
All three of these things happened to me. It’s easy to guess which hit hardest.
I can still see Stu’s hesitant eyes looking down at me as his accomplice and best friend Billy brought his blade down to my stomach, plunging it deep inside of me. I didn’t cry, I didn’t scream. I accepted the pain, I welcomed the darkness and just waited for it to be over. I see both of their faces every time I close my eyes, in every single dream I’ve had. Billy’s expression of pure undiluted concentration and Stu’s sad and torn blue eyes dragging themselves away from me as the knife imbedded into my torso.
The only things I know that happened after are what Sidney and Randy told me. Sid had managed to single-handedly kill them both, putting an end to the series of grisly murders they had committed and calling the police. I remember waking up in the hospital, parents sobbing at my bedside, telling me that I had in fact been legally dead for three minutes. I remember Stu’s parents visiting and my mom screaming at her brother to “Get the fuck out!”.
I remember Sid and Randy telling me that Billy and Stu had killed Tatum.
But despite all of it, I felt nothing. It was like after Billy stabbed me and I’d died, the part of me actually being able to feel things went along with it. In a way it was good. It meant the betrayal of my own flesh and blood didn’t hurt me as much as it hurt the rest of my family, my parents completely cut themselves off from my aunt and uncle after everything, not wanting to associate themselves with the Macher name. It was obvious this was for the sake of appearances and of course, their image. We were a well off family, not because my parents worked hard but because Stu and I’s grandparents were ridiculously wealthy and left just about everything to our respective parents.
But none of that mattered when I stepped foot in Windsor College. When I met him.
Everything changed in an instant. Leaving Woodsbro behind with two of my best friends and finally finding someone I could bear my soul too I was a whole new person. I got feeling back, I could feel again. It was the perfect time for all of us to reinvent ourselves and be happy again, new life, new friends, new boyfriends.
It was like the moment I laid eyes on Mickey something inside of me snapped back into place and began to heal me. It took a long time, a painfully long time for me to want to accept the fact that I wanted him. Part of me wishes I’d given into it sooner, soaked up every last part of the version of him I’d known at the time to be true whilst the more rational side wishes I’d never stepped foot onto this campus, never let him touch me, never let him know me. Everything about him was just magnetic and looking back at it now, that should have been the first of many red flags. No one can be that charismatic, that charming and not be hiding something dark and sinister, there is just no way.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you about the first time I met Mickey Altieri.
“I think this will be good for you, you know? Make some new friends, start to move on.” Sid had her fingers wrapped around my wrist, tugging me gently over to her small circle of friends all sat crowded in the college square.
“I don’t need to make new friends. I’m fine by myself.” Of course I appreciated her concern for me, but I was getting really tired of being told what I needed to do. If I wanted to be alone, why couldn’t I be alone?
“Dahlia,” Sid abruptly stopped walking, turning to face me with those goddamned brown eyes looking down at me imploringly, “it’s been months. We all need to at least try and move on, you know?”
“I know, Sid.” I sighed a little, eyes nervously flickering up to the three people sitting perched on the bench, Randy luckily amongst them. I smiled a little as I saw him eagerly wave at Sidney and I, beckoning us over. “Just…” I struggled to hold her gaze, voice dropping to be a bit quieter, as if lowering the volume would make the admission and subsequent minor vulnerability easier to push out, “It’s hard.”
Sid’s expression turned sympathetic, her hand moving to grasp mine. Sidney has good hands, strong, grounding, firm yet soft, just like her. She speaks again, “I know, Dahlia. But I really think this could help. They’re all great, very understanding and they won’t push you to talk about…Well, what happened.”
“God, fine.” I mumbled and she nodded, looking just slightly smug as she gently tugged me closer to the group.
A chorus of “Hey, Sid” was uttered before Sid introduced me. “Dahlia, this is Derek, Hallie and Mickey. Guys, this is Dahlia.”
I couldn’t help but smile a little awkwardly as my eyes scanned the tight knit group. Randy was looking at me encouragingly and Sidney squeezed my hand a little.
I said nothing.
I still felt nothing.
Great.
Even then, I subconsciously noticed that Mickey was staring at me a little too hard. He was sitting with his back leaning against the wall with his foot propped up on the bench, toying with a video camera in his hand as he gave me a quick and not at all subtle once over. Despite the zombie-like trance I’d been in for the last few months, it made the blood rush to my cheeks and lightly stain them.
I mean, I wasn’t stupid. He was ridiculously good looking. His dark hair stuck up a little, he was toned and the thin fabric of his sweater clung to his body in a way that made it almost painful to look away and his brown eyes were just so…Full.
Full of mirth and life and so much I don’t think I could actually list it all. When was the last time I felt that full? Had I ever, even before that night? In his eyes I could see the excitement and wonder in them from where I stood and it was oddly enticing, I focused on that as opposed to my usual depressing internal monologue.
He managed to ruin my little initial fascination with him in about three seconds.
“Oh! You’re the chick who died, right, I- ow!” I watched as the girl, Hallie, darted out her hand and smacked Mickey upside of the head, “Jesus, what?”
“You can’t just say something like that to someone, God you’re an ass.” The mild disgust on her face twists to an apologetic smile as she continued on, “ I apologise for Mickey, he has zero fucking tact.” Hallie’s expression turned warmer as she was moving up the bench to make room. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mickey roll his eyes a little before he settled his gaze back onto me.
“No, no it’s fine. Yeah, I am. Glad that’s so interesting to you Michael.”
He cocked an eyebrow at me, an amused smile cracking on his face. “Mickey.” He corrected me, sounding amused as he did so.
I held back a scoff as I told him, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
That was the first time I ever spoke directly to him. I can’t help but imagine how things would be now if I never bothered, never got so captivated with the way he’d look at me all through the rest of the day and every single day after.
It was never creepy, far from it. Instead it was almost as though he knew something I knew, like he knew me already.
Little did I know he did know me. He knew every single thing about me.
Chapter Two HERE
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Ok, thought:
Ruby is obviously ascending, whatever that means for non-Afterans.
Jaune kind of has to. I don’t think he’s staying behind or dying, and though RWBY has surprised me before I also don’t see him going back in Dilf-mode.
Also the cat taunted them that the tree isn’t “a place you go, it’s a place you know.”
So how does everyone get to the tree?
I think they all need to drink the tea.
Now, this is obviously going to be pretty terrible, but consider: maybe the herbalist really is meant to prepare people for the tree. For the difficult choices they will face there. Ruby is not prepared, Jaune likely isn’t either, but the others are.
Also, from a romantic position, please consider the scene we might get beforehand. The bees don’t know what awaits them, it’s another fall into the dark. Yang, so afraid to lose what she just found, speaks her fears. And Blake, brave and genre aware Blake who knows very well they are in a fairytale, will remind her that the heart remembers. That they found each other once, and they’ll always find each other, in this life or the next.
I mean, it could happen.
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Henry gets to meet his grandpa 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Rumple wants to get the FUCK out of the underworld.
And of fucking course they want to save all the souls there.
Jesus just go back home.
You know rumple she couldn't blackmail you IF YOU WEREN'T LYING TO BELLE AGAIN ABOUT BEING THR DARK ONE!!!!
Be our my guest
Ah here's the hades hercules and Meg of the show!
I remember seeing "what's the most insane ouat ship without context" and the wicked witch and hades was my vote.
So I guess we'll see if that was legit or just a thrown together floating door.
I love the Disney movie hercules, and greek mythology in general.
Oh shit is this gonna open up a whole new realm for them to fuck with? The greek gods?
I'd love to see a hades/persephone rumple/belle au.
🤣😂 it's officially a cold day in hell when I move in with the charmings😂🤣
HEY CHILD MUNCHER!!
Jesus regina 😂😂
"How's your mother? Oh wait with you i have to be more specific. "
Don't remember why he was looking into the crystal ball.
But why the fuck is he so shocked?
So the 45 of you can sneak around? No.
Oh shit is Milah his helpful dead person?? Well this will be awkward as fuck.
Awww little bae.
Why thr fuck won't he "be anything she wants him to be" for belle?
How'd you find me?
You are standing in the middle of main street.
I do love the irony of your job.
Sassy bitch rumple is back.
So you've been with my former lover and my son?
😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣
I'm sure we'll laugh ourselves sick about this someday
PAST RUMPLE WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING??
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING RUMPLE????
I should kill you.
Noted.
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Ngl, seeing critical blogs getting involved in the anti-proship discourse is disappointing as hell, considering that many of them act like they’re more “mature” than Vivziepop, her crew, and her fanbase, but they’re having panic attacks over stupid online labels and shipping discourse. Some are even claiming being transphobic is as “bad” as drawing problematic fictional art, and it's just I can’t deal with this.
I’m sorry, but if you act like this, then you’re on the same level of immaturity as Vivziepop, Spindlehorse, and the fanbase & can’t talk any shit.
For real, like the way they’re painting Raphielle as a terrible horrible sick individual kind of rubs me the wrong way… to me it seems like they only have kinks that may rub someone the wrong way.
Now my only issue with Viv having a pro shipper on their team is that they don’t seem to separate their kinks from their fetish and ship art from their professional work.😅 now I do understand r*Pe survivors (myself included) do draw things to help cope with their trauma. (I’m not sure if that’s the same case with Raphielle though, but I know people who enjoy n*nc*n use it to cope) however, not all r*Pe survivors cope the same way.
And I think that’s something they should keep in mind when they handle certain topics. It does come off a bit like fetishizing or romanticizing it on your canon writing. There needs to some separation form that since it can seem a bit unprofessional.
But at the end of the day, these are fictional characters that doesn’t even exist.
I’m sorry what??? Somehow liking problematic things in fiction when ships makes you on the same boat as a transphobe???? That’s very transphobic if you actually think that and a stupid analogy.
I do have some issues with pro shippers but antis really take the cake with death threats. I’ve seen how they treated an artist I followed on another fandom who drew inc*st ships. Now I myself do not like that but you know what I did? I ignored it and just kept my dislike to myself. Plus me and this artist had nice friendly talks over other things and it’s not fair to harrased them over fiction.
They bullied the shit out of her, gave her death threats, and accused her of being a p*do to where she couldn’t take it anymore and left the fandom after all the hate she got.
Dude like some of these antis dedicate their whole entire blog to shit on Viv and have this stupid moral savior complex.
Tbh like Viv, I’m also gonna work on an indie project in the future that I wanna make into a comic and cartoon, and I know damn well we may have this shipping discourse. But I also just rather people separate their non canon ship art and smut separate from our project to keep it professional.
I just hope Raphielle doesn’t face death threats over this shit
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