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#being rebuilt makes it better
draco-kasai · 11 months
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Sometimes, all I need in life is a good Smart Naruto Uzumaki leaves Konoha fic with a dash of Konoha bashing. I don't ask for much.
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gch1995 · 1 year
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Why do you care about Vader's feelings so much? He doesn't deserve dignity. I hope Lucasfilm makes a story where he's captured by the Rebellion and brutally tortured until he's crying for Shmi. They'll use force suppressing devices and make him feel like the worthless slave he is
I care because Star Wars is primarily Anakin’s story, whether you like it or not. I care because Luke’s entire character arc in the OT films is pointless if Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda were always meant to be the perfect mentors, who did nothing wrong. I care, not just about Anakin’s feelings, but the feelings of every other Jedi recruit who had serious issues with the way the old Jedi Order and Republic operated.
I care, because if the Jedi are supposed to be the good guys, in spite of their flaws, then we should ultimately be rooting for them to rise again with Luke Skywalker. Because Anakin’s arc and feelings in the prequels are no longer treated as valid in the Disney era of Star Wars, that means Obi-Wan and Yoda are treated as being completely right all along, and the new Jedi Order cannot grow with Luke Skywalker in the current canon. The same bad choices and mistakes keep being made in the current canon because he follows his blatantly misguided predecessors, which was not implied at the end of the OT movies at all. While I would never agree that mass murder/genocide is the answer to deal with stopping them, because the current canon narrative ignores all the serious issues Anakin and his predecessors had, at least in part, because of the blatant corruption within the Order and Republic they grew up amongst, I’m also not too thrilled that Luke rebuilt the Order because he’s repeating all of their misguided choices and practices in current canon as a result.
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xoxomyseriesxoxo · 1 year
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I’m tempted to open back anon asks so people can send me requests gifs/edits when I open them or just chat with me but I don’t want to deal with any kind of bs because I dared saying as a reminder that the main reason why we (fans that had been there in 2015) don’t like B/each ending isn’t the ships but the story itself and that the recent change of narrative is annoying.
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harryspet · 5 months
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bambi eyes (1) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: My first Rafe fic :)
word count: 4.4k
In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.
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Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin. 
As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there. 
He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could. 
After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house. 
There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls. 
The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”
Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you. 
Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him. 
“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.” 
The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase. 
He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors. 
An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different. 
“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on.  He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”
Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint. 
The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.
“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you. 
“Mr. Cameron-”
“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.” 
As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you. 
Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him. 
He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted. 
You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg. 
He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you. 
You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself. 
His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake. 
As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”
“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”
Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”
“And why’s that?”  
“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.
“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his. 
“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills,  although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”
“Your guys run their mouths.”
“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”
Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars. 
“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”
Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”
Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.” 
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You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted. 
Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom. 
Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice. 
You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle. 
You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress. 
“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”
Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure. 
You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”
When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you. 
“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting. 
Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away. 
“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”
You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”
You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”
He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”
You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next. 
“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”
You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added. 
You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”
Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed. 
“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”
Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant. 
Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?” 
His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”
“This whole room is just for me?”
“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”
You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”
You nodded. 
“Tell me.”
“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further. 
“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”
You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”
“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”
“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”
“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect,  “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”
“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”
“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”
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This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”
He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”
Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?” 
Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”
“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.
“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress. 
“I thought you wanted me …”
“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”
You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”
Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”
“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead. 
“You’re welcome, Bambi.”
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Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab. 
Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics. 
That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”
“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”
“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”
“Your father, was he like Master?”
“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”
You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”
“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly. 
“You’ll punish me?”
Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”
You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you. 
He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him. 
Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you. 
“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”
Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”
“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”
“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”
Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out. 
He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.
“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over. 
Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.” 
“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff. 
He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.” 
He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened. 
“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.
“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”
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Part 2
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xveenusx · 6 months
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Indifference
Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: Two people who are in love, well he used to be
Authors note: you guys like when I make you cry
Rating: angsty
Warnings: it'll hurt :)
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He was late.
Time was a funny thing. Minutes turned to hours which rolled into days then suddenly months began to blur into years. In that time, people tend to go out and experience things, falling in and out of love, enjoying everything life had to offer.
Yet, I somehow found myself motionless, the spark that once ignited my core had been stifled to a small ember. Life continued to pass by while I remained glued in one place, watching as everyone around me attempted to achieve some form of happiness.
I was once like that. Filled with some much hope for a life with someone I loved, who showed up to support me and believed in my capability, because at one time in my life that was exactly what Rafe was.
Like I said, time was a funny thing. The more time passes with your partner, the more comfortable they seem to get. They stop trying. However, at what point does being comfortable become almost negligent?
Dates were canceled, appointments missed, and important accomplishments forgotten the more time went on. Rafe’s priorities shifted and I went from being the center of his world to being a planet merely circling his gravitational pull.
In his mind, we were forever, so a couple of cancellations here and there and bouts of forgetfulness were nothing in the span of things. I would have agreed had the cancellations not doubled with time or our conversations going from intimate and deep to surface level at best.
He was never home. It was always just me in this large house on figure 8.  Suddenly, he went from being the moon and the stars to just a bleak, unforgivable starless night. Cold and dark.
We had met when we were 16 and he was every bit a spoiled little rich boy that had extreme daddy issues, but there was more to him than that. I picked at his defenses until finally they shattered, and I was engulfed by all of him.
He was just different around me and that fact alone left me delighted. It made me feel special, almost stupidly so.
Things between Rafe and his father were already tense enough since Rafe bought a motorbike with the money he was supposed to spend on the generator. Then everything began to snowball out of control from there. He threw himself into his father’s work and when he wasn’t doing that, he was with Kells and Topper doing god knows what and snorting anything he could find.
Despite all of this, Rafe always kept me close and always let me in. 
Last year, when Ward had gone with Sarah and John B to South America, and didn’t return, something shifted inside him. His defenses were rebuilt, only this time he left me on the outside, and no matter how hard I tried to break him down brick by brick, nothing worked. He became obsessed with running Ward’s real estate empire better than he ever did.
Rafe was a cold and calculated legacy with a large chip on his shoulder that made him lethal against competing firms. He chewed them up and spit them out.
With every major milestone, it was never enough for him, and like a man possessed he continued to ruthlessly target anyone that had done him wrong. We had everything and yet the bitterness seemed to consume him. He was someone I saw once a day if I was lucky. He always left before I woke up and was never home by the time I went to bed and suddenly we were glorified roommates.
Once upon a time, I would stay up waiting for him with my heart in my hand, hoping to connect in any way. Even if I only had a few minutes to spend with him before he went to sleep, it was enough for me. But, 10 pm became 11 pm which turned into 12 am and so I gave up. My sleep schedule was already a mess as thoughts and insecurities pestered my mind of another woman.
“Any word from him yet? Some of the donors are asking for him?” The question pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn to face my assistant, Rai.
Her question is innocent enough, but I can hear the slight concern in her voice and I know she has her doubts which only serves as another humiliating reminder that Rafe has done this to me repeatedly.
But this was different. He knew how important this charity dinner was to the shelter I opened up for women and children who suffered from domestic violence.
As someone who came from the cut, it was everywhere and so many didn’t have the means to flee and so they were forced to stay and in the most severe instances, die.
Rafe gave me the start-up money as a gift and it was a huge success that I opened several more as well as fund for scholarships for both the mothers and kids. Which is what brings me to now, a charity dinner and auction to help fund said scholarships and pay for all the shelter necessities.
He promised he would be here. It’s important for the donors to see him here seeing as though he donated a huge sum once more and could ease the minds of those who are teetering on the edge. It’s also important to me. This project is mine, something I created and shared with the world and I want to share it with him too.
I want him to celebrate this accomplishment with me and he is nowhere to be found.
“He’ll be here. Rafe promised.” I clear my throat, “He knows how important this is to me.”
Rai gave me a doubtful look and I know that I couldn’t convince her anymore than I could convince myself. The engagement ring that bore my finger instantly weighed a ton.
Glancing down at the large diamond that once meant the promise of everything, stared back at me as nothing more than a simple accessory.
Rafe had proposed and foolishly I believed that it would save us so I said yes.
I stayed and time and time again, the disappointment slowly began to etch away at the childish hope I tried to cling onto until only a dull ache remained.
“Don’t you look lovely?” Plastering a fake smile onto my face, I let out a sheepish laugh as I take in Kiara’s parents. 
“Thank you guys so much for coming.” The words ring true but I couldn’t help but feel like I was underwater. My focus is shot and I find myself hardly listening with my eyes darting to the front door every minute or so, desperate to see the man I used to think would never stop loving me. 
I float around the room, committed to being a gracious host, because I would not let him take this from me too. Not when he’s taken everything else already. This is the only piece left of me. 
My cheeks hurt two hours later from all the fake smiles and my throat burns from the feigned laughing. The sound of my own voice makes me wince. 
In those two hours, I felt my confidence slowly get chipped piece by piece as everyone questioned where my fiancé was. And for a moment, I hated him. I truly hated him because even this small piece of heaven I made for myself is tied into him. 
Honey, I need to run some numbers with Rafe. Where is he hiding? 
Where is the biggest investor? Surely, he’s here, right?
I haven't seen Mr. Cameron. Has he stepped out? 
With which I responded,” Work emergency, you know how it is. He’s nothing if not committed.” Considering most of these possible donors run their own large companies, they completely understand but it’s their partners reactions that seem to leave me stunned. 
Each had a warm look of understanding dancing in their eyes as I’m sure they’ve used the same excuse time and time again.
I can only take so much. So I excuse myself and glance at the small gold heart shaped watch on my delicate wrist and take note of the time.
There was only 30 minutes left and I haven't gotten so much as a text from him. 
A pit began to form where my stomach used to be as I realized once more that he wasn’t coming. As I stood in a packed room, filled with a flurry of activity, surrounded by people, I’ve never felt more alone.
Then my eyes connect with Mrs. Dune, the wife of a finance guru that works alongside Rafe. She was much older than I, having been with her husband for 30 years but she looked even older. 
It’s almost as though she can read my thoughts, because she sends me a sad smile as she lets her eyes go to where her husband stands talking to other donors. I haven't seen him talk to her the whole night, instead she’s been standing at his side saying nothing. 
I take an uneven breath and my eyes widen in realization. Was this what I had to look forward to? A life sentence of loneliness vacant of any warmth and attention? 
Swallowing hard, I force my eyes away and stare at the door. Begging whoever will listen to please, this once, let me be wrong. I’m so in my thoughts that I’m startled when a soft hand lands on my arm.
“You get used to it. Eventually, you’ll feel nothing.” Mrs. Dune says quietly, her eyes moving back to her husband, with a look I can only describe as longing. 
That’s the thing. I don't want to get used to it. This isn’t how I want to be loved.
“What you’ve accomplished is amazing. Don’t let him take that away from you.” Was her parting words and she left, not sparing her husband another glance. 
When I turn to see if he noticed she left, he’s still engaged in conversations and doesn’t spare her a glance. 
This is not how I want to be loved. 
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. This is Amy Park.” Rai looks ecstatic as she introduces me to the stunning tall woman next to her. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Park.” The words come out on instinct.
“I wanted to discuss how open you would be to expanding shelters nationwide?”
And for the first time in awhile, a real smile graces my face as I answer her question. 
_____________________
The first thing I notice when I pull into our driveway is the plethora of cars that fill it. The second thing I pick up on is familiar vibrations of music with each step I take along our pathway. 
My front door is wide open as people come in and out, clearly under the influence of something and my chest constricts. 
This is what he’s been doing? This was more important than me? 
Clutching my keys tightly, I welcome the familiar biting against my skin. I recognize many of the faces, most of them having gone to school with Rafe. 
If it was any other night, I would have joined them. We were only 22 and yet have lived what seems to be a hundred lives. But, this is different. He’s different. 
Climbing up the staircase, I head to the balcony where I hear a familiar boast of laughter. 
I cleared my throat. “What’s so funny?”
Heads snap in my direction but my eyes are only on one. One that currently has a short black haired girl nearly in his lap. I recognize her as a bartender at one of the local grills/bars we frequent. 
“Don’t you look gorgeous-“ Topper attempts to run interference, but it’s too late. I raise my hand to silence him. I’ve already seen everything I needed too. 
His body is positioned slightly in front of them as if I was going to body slam them. I might actually. 
“Hey, wait! How did the donor dinner go?” Topper's eyes dart to Rafe’s. “That was tonight right?”
I see the moment everything clicks. His eyes rake down from my newly styled hair to the louboutins in my feet. Everything I wore from the jewelry on my body to the shoes on my feet he bought me, and I’ve never felt more sick.
Rafe clenches his eyes shut as he shakes his head. “Fuck.”
Fuck, indeed.
“Get out of my way, Topper.”
He throws a worried glance to Rafe. “I think maybe-“
“Top, give us a second.” Rafe mutters tensely. He keeps his hard set gaze on me, drilling into me, almost as though he’s daring me to move. 
Kelce stands up giving me an apologetic look. “Rafe, man, there’s a bunch of people here.”
I force myself to look away. 
“Not right now, Kells.” 
He wasn’t wrong. This house was full of people, but the only difference being that none of them matter. Not to me and not to Rafe. 
Steady. Keep steady and just breathe. 
“So what should I do-“
I look at him. Me or them? It was unsaid but he knew what I was asking him. 
“Back the fuck off and give me a fucking second with my girl.” Rafe barks out, running a rough hand through the short cropped strands that brush against his forehead. 
Both hold their hands up in mock surrender before shuffling off to the side. The girl doesn’t get up. 
Topper coughs. “Sophia.” 
Her eyes take me in with clear distaste. Her hand is still dangerously close to Rafe’s waistband. I raise a single eyebrow giving her one last opportunity to move. 
She doesn’t. Not when Kelce calls out for her either.
Sophia made her bed. Setting my bag down, I take three big steps before I’m roughly shoving her off the couch sending her sprawling on the floor. 
Rafe let’s out a curse but makes no move to help her. At least he’s not stupid.
“Get out.” The words leave no room for negotiation.
The glare she sends me is filled with ice. “I was invited.”
Kelce lets out a groan before whispering,”Is she serious?”
The fake smile I’ve perfected over the years decorated my face as I bent down to her height on the floor. 
Flashing my engagement ring in her face. “Get out of my fucking house.”
That seems to shut her up and I watch with narrowed eyes as she struts away, Topper and Kelce in tow.
I can hear my heart pounding in my ears while my chest feels like it’s going to explode. I turn around slowly to face my damnation. 
My heels click against the marble floor and with each step I take, the more the ache in my chest grows. Marching up to Rafe, I grab his chin and force him to look at me. Those familiar glacial blue eyes are red. His pupils are blown wide and my chest cracks wide open. 
He’s high. 
This is not how I want to be loved. 
This is what he wanted to do instead of being there for me. Instead of supporting me. Instead of loving me. 
Dying would be less painful.
 I stare directly into those eyes, searching for an answer, wondering when the love he felt for me slowly became indifference.
I’d almost rather there be a mistress rather than this cold indifference.
“Did you have fun at least?” My words are soft but the intention is anything but. 
He says nothing. Instead Rafe studies me like I’m a wounded animal. 
Dark. Beautiful. Cruel. 
Those are the words I’d use to describe the man in front of me. The gaze that once felt like a soft caress on my skin now felt clinical. 
“It seems like you’re having fun.” I quip, flicking the small bag filled with familiar white powder. 
I thought I could fix him. I will not make that mistake again.
“I completely forgot-“
“How?” I ask. 
His eyes narrow like he’s trying to figure me out. “Work got insanely busy. You know how it is. Even if I own the place, I’m young and the older guys don’t respect me.”
“It was in your work calendar.” 
“No, it wasn’t-“
“It was also on your personal calendar and our joint one. I had your assistant send you a reminder email. So my question is how?” My voice wobbled and it was only by a small miracle that I didn’t throw something in his face. “How did you forget the only thing I’ve asked you for?” 
Something flickered in his eyes. “It wasn’t intentional. It slipped my mind.”
“Something I worked so hard to accomplish just slipped your mind?” Exhaustion has finally got the better of me and I finally let him see just how much he’s managed to chip away. 
“I should have been there for you and I’m so sorry,” His throat flexed a hard swallow. “But there will be other dinners.” 
The dull ache in my chest thrummed harder. Rafe was brushing this off, just like he always did. My skin flushed. 
At my silence, he braces his elbows on his knees and leans forward, tracking my every move. “I feel like you’re not understanding me.”
“No, I understand you just fine. It just wasn’t important enough for you.”
He stilled. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Of course it wasn’t what he meant but he’s managed to make me feel so insignificant. So small. 
“I know that you’ve canceled most of our dates for work. Even an anniversary once. I know that you missed the grand opening of the shelter that I spent a year and half planning.” I force the words out, each breath I take feeling like needles. “I asked for this one thing, Rafe and you couldn’t even give me that.” 
“What about everything I have given you? This house, the car you drive in, the clothes on your back, the boat?”
It’s like I’m staring at 16 year old Rafe again. To him, material things were the equivalent to love. He couldn’t be farther from the truth.
I find that I was much happier when I had little to nothing, than I am now, sitting here with everything, in my gown and jewels. 
“I didn't ask for any of those things.” By the stubborn gleam in his eyes, I knew he was going to fight me on everything. 
Lately, his tactic was always combative and it was easier to give in or to not say anything at all. 
 “No, but you took them all the same. I fucked up, I get that. I know what this shelter means to you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t even have it if it weren’t for me.”
A familiar buzzing filled my ears. His words were ugly but they weren’t a lie. Even my project was his. I had nothing of my own.
I wonder how many other people came to the same revelation. Maybe that’s why so many of them asked where he was? Because this accomplishment wasn’t mine, no clearly it was his.
There is not enough room in my chest for the ache he caused. 
Words can’t seem to make it to my lips. I think my brain has finally broken and realizes that no words I say will get him to change. 
Smoothing out my dress, I stand on shaky legs before kicking off my heels. He can keep them. With that, I leave him out on the porch and make a beeline towards our his room. 
Opening the closet doors, I reach for the suitcase before setting it on the bed. I wasn’t going to be like Mrs. Dune and waste away beside a man that used to love me, hoping that one day he will once more. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” The words are hard and low. 
Rafe stands at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His face is brewing with several emotions I can't quite place. 
It was funny. I haven't seen this much emotion from him in months.
I ignore him and toss some clothes from my dresser into the open suitcase, making sure to grab only the clothes I needed.
I slowly take off each piece of jewelry and set it on my vanity. He can keep everything he so gloriously mentioned he bought. 
“You loved me once.” I state, tilting my head to the side. I rake over every detail of his face, knowing I’ll never forget it. 
I loved him once too. 
His face morphed to one of confusion before disbelief. “I still love you. That’s never changed.” 
I shake my head. “Yes, it has.”
Rafe stalks towards me, his hand reaching to burl around my neck while the other pulls me to him by my waist. Familiar cologne fills my lungs and I count to ten mentally. It was the same cologne I bought him when we first started dating. 
“I work too much, I know. That’s my fault and I’ll cut back. I’ll be home more and we can spend time together. I’ll do better.” Taking my chin between two fingers, he forces my eyes to his. I see the sincerity in his eyes but I know how this goes. 
The same way it’s gone the last two times. He’ll beg me to stay, promise to change, and things will be good for a month before he slowly starts missing dates or canceling trips we’ve planned months before. Then the cycle repeats. 
“No.” It was time to love myself. Since he clearly couldn’t do it. I will not allow myself to get lost in him again. 
“Baby, just wait. Will you wait-“ He huffs as I try to move around him. No such success as his towering body has me moving back and suddenly I’m caged in by his arms. “Just give me a second, okay?”
“I’ve given you years. I won’t give you another second.” 
“Talk to me.” His voice breaks. “Please just talk to me.”
Longing filled my body. Words I’ve been waiting to hear for months come so easily to him, but only when I already have one foot out the door.
 “I’m alone.” The words come out strangled. “ I’m alone in this. I have been for a long time.”
“What do you mean? Baby, I’m right here.” Rafe’s gripping onto me tighter, almost like he’s ensuring I don’t leave. “I’m right here.”
“You're never here. That’s exactly my point.” 
Rafe’s eyes widen before he shakes his head wildly, staring at me like I’m speaking another language. “That’s not true-“
“What’s today?”
“What?” 
“What’s today?” I repeat, my eyes never leaving his. I want to see every emotion that storms in his eyes, just to remind myself that he is capable of emotion after all. 
“Friday.” 
I smile at him sadly. Exactly my point. “I haven't seen you since Tuesday.” 
“No, that can’t be right. I was with you when we had lunch with-“ He breaks off, reaching for his phone in his pocket. I watch as he pulls up his calendar, an action that mortifies me, and confirms our scheduled date.
 “Tuesday.” He whispers, shocked even. 
I wasn’t. Rafe had to check his calendar to confirm that last time he’s seen his fiancé. 
“You used to come bring me lunch. If you were more than a couple hours, you always found your way to me or gave me a call that you’ll be late.” I shrugged, blinking back the tears stinging my eyes. “Now, I don’t think I’d get a call if you were in the hospital.”
The buzzing in my ears intensifies.
 “You didn’t tell me any of this. None of how you were feeling and you're ready to walk out the door without so much as an argument.” A spark of my old Rafe appears as frustration dances across his face.
“I should have-“
“You’re giving up.” He states, shaking his head in anger. 
Maybe I was. “I’m tired of fighting for us. You gave up a long time ago.” 
Large hands curl around my cheeks, pulling me towards his face. Rafe rests his forehead on mine, his piercing blue eyes darting across my face in panic. 
“I love you. I love you.” He knows he’s grasping at straws, but we feel like strangers now. The words don’t feel like they used to. “You know I love you.”
 “This isn’t how I want to be loved, Rafe. I see you every couple days, the only time we’re ever together is when we have sex.” We lost sight of how we once were. The only thing that remained good between us was sex. 
That alone isn’t healthy. He goes to open his mouth but I cut him off.
“We never talk and when we do, you don’t even listen to me. Your brain is always somewhere else.” 
“I’m in a relationship with a ghost. I’m not letting you suck the life out of me anymore.” My eyes catch the sparkling ring that once brought me such happiness. Now, it simply feels like a ball and chain. 
Before I can convince myself otherwise, I start to tug it off my finger when Rafe truly begins to panic. 
“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that.” I try to hand it to him but Rafe jolts back like he’s been burned. The look he gives my empty hand is nothing short of destroyed.
I think I’m going to throw up. His words are laced with raw grief that makes it hard for me to breathe.
“Put it back on.” I hear the slight tremble in his voice.
“No.” My lips wobble. 
“Please put it back on because if you don’t that means we’re over. That’s not us. We aren’t supposed to end.”
“Rafe, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
“You’re ripping my fucking heart out of my chest. This isn’t anywhere near hard, it’s excruciating.” Rafe’s hand is notably shaking, but he tries to hide it by clenching and unclenching his palms. 
“Welcome to the last year of my life.” The words are brutal but he needs to hear them. 
“You promised me we’d never end.” 
“You promised to change. I guess we both lied.”
Rafe raises his voice, his arms thrown up in the air in clear distress, “How can you just stand there?”
It was a miracle I haven’t collapsed on my shaky legs yet. The adrenaline pumping though my veins was the only thing getting me through this torture. “Rafe, stop it.”
“You talk about indifference?” Rafe lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head up at the ceiling. “Who’s heartless now, baby?”
“You don’t get to put this on me. I’ve given you years of my life, showered you with nothing but love and support. I asked for one night, one fucking night, in your busy schedule and you didn’t bother to show up, or send a simple text.” I intake a sharp breath, pushing the hair out of my face with a shaky hand. “Instead, you threw a party in our home and got high.”
I point a finger at his chest, staring at him with open heartbreak. “I needed you,” The tightness in my chest finally pops as I choke on a loud sob, “I needed you and you weren’t there.”
“I lost sight of what’s important to me. I’m just trying to give you everything-” I cut him off. 
Grabbing the clothes I haphazardly tossed in the suitcase, ”You want this? Take it,” I shove them into his chest, “Take all of it. I don’t want it. I’d give this all away in a heartbeat if it meant I could have you back.”
I meant every word. I wanted my best friend back, the person I confided in and depended on. I wanted our late nights back watching trashy reality TV. We used to sit in the bathtub together basking in each other's company. Went on walks along the beach or took the boat out for hours, fucking on the deck, not caring that anyone could see. 
It used to be simple. He loved me and I loved him. 
“I’m angry, baby.I’m so damn angry all the time. At my fucking dad for always having these impossible expections. Then he goes and dies, leaving me without a clue on how to manage everything.” Rafe sags against the wall, exhaustion marring his features, his blue eyes pleading for me to understand. “I feel like I’m drowning all the time.”
I had no idea this was how he was feeling. But, he never let me in. “You could have told me, we’re supposed to be partners in this. You asked me to marry you!”
I think deep down I know that he felt me slipping through his fingers at one point. He could see clearly how unhappy I’ve become and that’s why he proposed. And maybe just like him, I thought the proposal could fix us. This proposal was being manipulated on both ends, it was doomed from the start.
You can’t fix what’s already broken. 
“My head has basically been a war zone and I’m losing. The only thing keeping me sane is that I know, when I walk through that door,” he points to our bedroom door, “I’m going to find you in our bed. Every. Single. Night.” 
“I can’t let the ugly touch you.” My heart splits into two at his words. Words I know feel like acid leaving his mouth. “You’re the only thing I have left.”
“Then you should have taken better care of me. You should have let me take care of you.” 
“Fuck,” He screams, bending down and swiping the lamp clean of the nightstand. The lamp goes flying into the wall, shattering into hundreds of pieces and my eyes are drawn to them. I can’t help but think it reminds me of us.
Dragging my eyes back to his, I fight the urge to wrap him in my arms. Seeing him in pain has never brought me joy, but this was brutal. His eyes shined with unmistakable tears, realizing the strength of my resolve. 
There was no going back this time. There was no trying again. I didn’t have another try in me. 
I grip onto the fabric of my dress moving towards him, my heart pounding out of my chest. He moves instantly, holding out his hand to guide me over the shattered lamp. Why couldn’t he be like this months ago?
Why did he let it get this bad? Why couldn’t he love me?
Now, standing in front of him, I let myself one deep breath, basking in the comforting smell of him. A large hand curls around my neck, his grip strong and firm, demanding my attention. His blue eyes are daunting and so intense, I find myself fighting the urge to look away.
“I’m going to get you back.”
”Take it, Rafe.” I whisper, uncurling his limp hand, “Take it. It doesn’t mean what I want it to.”
Tears blur my vision as I fumble with the ring he refuses to take.
 Rafe shakes his head, clenching his jaw tightly. “There’s no point in taking it off if it’s gonna go right back there in a couple weeks. ”
I can’t help but smile at the determination in his voice. He sounds like the old Rafe and for a second I see a glimmer of who he used to be.
 He had me. Then he lost me. 
This is not how I want to be loved. 
“If spending the next few months without you means that I get to spend a lifetime with you, I can manage. I’ll do whatever I have to.  But don’t think for a second that there is anyone else on this entire fucking planet meant for you.”
That’s how I want to be loved. Too little too late.
I drop the ring.
2K notes · View notes
foone · 4 months
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So in Star Trek: Picard & Star Trek: Discovery, we learn that the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco still stands*, but since no one uses ground cars anymore, the road part has been replaced by solar panels.
Which makes some amount of sense. It's a historical landmark. You're not gonna tear it down just because no one drives anymore.
But... Solar panels? Really? This is the Star Trek future! They've got antimatter reactors and fusion. They've also got easy access to space: they could just put solar panels in orbit, and beam the power down. Like, I get the idea that it's a green utopian future, but solar panels are not really needed in the Trek future. Not on the ground, anyway. They can do far better with less impact, to the point that this is simply not worth doing.
Unless... They're historical solar panels! Sometime between Now and The Trek Future, the Golden Gate Bridge got closed to car traffic, and turned into a solar farm. And in the Trek future, they've chosen to celebrate that specific era of history by making it look like that. They don't need the solar power, it's just for the look.
* it still standing makes zero sense, IMO. There's one, maybe two major wars between now and Trek Times, one of them explicitly being nuclear. And the Golden Gate Bridge is a big suspension bridge connected to a major US port city. Even if the enemy only has like 10 ICBMs, that bridge is going down, sorry. But they've rebuilt that bridge at least once in Trek already (it got blasted by the Neil Breen in DS9: The Changing Face of Evil) so maybe this is just like The Golden Gate Bridge, version 5, because they keep rebuilding it?
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skyahri · 1 month
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One Bed |Naruto Men X Reader| HC
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Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, and Shikamaru Nara.
Summary: Classic one bed trope.
Warnings: Kissing. Bed sharing. Lead up to smut but no smut.
- - - - -
Sasuke Uchiha
It was shortly after the war.
The village was still recuperating from the loss, as was every other village, but there were still missions that needed to be fulfilled.
You were off to do some security work for the Daimyo, who had specifically requested the two of you to watch over his land while they rebuilt.
The only issue was that upon arrival, it wss revealed you'd be sharing a single room.
"You aren't the only ones to have suffered during the battle. Half of my property was destroyed!"
There wasn't much you could do, so you bit the bullet and followed one of the Ladies in Waiting to where you'll be staying.
One room? Whatever. One bed? Absolutely not.
You protested. It was inappropriate, even if you had known Sasuke for well over a decade at this point.
"We are low on resources at the moment, Y/L/N-san, Uchiha-san. It's why we have asked for your assistance in the first place."
You looked at Sasuke, who just gave you the same bored expression he always has.
You thanked the woman and began getting settled in your room. Sasuke offered to sleep on the floor, which you told him not to bother with.
You'd likely be here a few weeks, so it'd be best if you were both comfortable.
Sasuke was nice enough to let you shower first, which you'd gladly taken after two days' worth of travel.
He waited patiently for you to finish so he could prepare for bed as well. It was late, almost midnight, and he was tired.
It was awkward the first night. You'd slept uncomfortably back to back with this weird air around you.
You'd put on your most conservative pair of pajamas despite how warm the room was, and that only made things worse.
The second night wasn't much better.
But by the third night, you both grew tired of the tension. It was difficult to be fully rested when you'd slept terribly, so you formed some kind of unspoken, mutual respect for now.
You'd opted for your normal nighttime attire - a pair of shorts and thin t-shirt. You already felt better.
Sasuke, on the other hand, had been grateful for your prudish clothing. He had never said anything before, not that he had the time to, but he'd always been attracted to you.
Your revealing pajamas were not helping his comfort, so while you slept better that night, he did not.
Nor the next night.
Or the night after that.
By then, you'd become very aware of his antics. On top of being physically aware that he wasn't sleeping, you'd also become annoyed by his poor attitude.
He was already an ass as is, you really didn't need him sleep deprived on top of it.
So that night, as you lay in bed next to him, you roll onto your stomach and prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him.
"What's your problem?"
"I don't have a problem."
"Really? Could've fooled me."
He tsked at you. Why'd you have to be so annoying?
You pushed yourself up so you'd be sitting on your knees, your hands flat on the bed so you could still lean forward to talk to him.
His eyes darted down to your chest before looking away entirely.
No way. There was absolutely no way.
"Are you... bothered by my clothes?"
"Don't be stupid." He snapped.
You tried to suppress a knowing smirk but failed.
So you leaned forward and kissed him.
Despite his surprise, he immediately responded to your kiss, going so far as to roll you over onto your back so he'd be on top of you.
"Maybe I am a bit bothered."
Kakashi Hatake
This is Kakashi’s first Kage Summit, and he asked you to be his plus one.
You accepted with no hesitation. You were anxious to get out of the village since the war ended and going out with Kakashi was sure to make it all the more interesting.
The summit was boring. That's a good thing compared to the last summit, but it still made you want to gouge your eyes out. They discussed the status of their villages and what sort of issues they'd been running into, blah blah blah.
When it was nearing midnight and everyone was growing tired, they agreed to call it a night and resume in the morning.
Everyone went to their respective quarters, but when you got to the Leaf Village's wing, there was only a single room with a bed.
Apparently, during the rebuild, they'd slipped up and only added a single room instead of the usual two, and no one had noticed (Thanks Sasuke).
It wasn't too big of a deal. You'd known Kakashi since your Genin days and slept in the same room plenty of times.
You were a bit surprised when he actually got into bed with you though.
Despite all those sleepovers, this was the first time you'd actually slept so close together.
You stared at him. Not on purpose, just happened to be doing so while your mind was racing.
"Is this an issue? I can sleep on the floor."
You shook your head.
"You sure? You were giving me quite the look."
"I was just... wondering what you'd look like under the mask."
You lied. You couldn't tell him how you were thinking about sleeping in bed with him and it's implications.
He snorted and did something that completely caught you off guard.
He pulled down his mask.
You blushed. How could you not? All these years, and he chooses now, the most random moment, to finally reveal such a wel kept secret.
And then he does something else that yo weren't expecting.
He leans forward and kisses you. You kiss back. He pulls away after a minute.
"I've been waiting to do that since we were teenagers."
You laugh at him, then pull him in for another kiss.
Shikamaru Nara
Shikamaru, being the lazy man he is, put off booking a room to stay in for so long that there was only a single room left st the inn.
You'd scolded him, and he took it, knowing he should've done it when he'd gotten the mission report.
The room was on the smaller side and contained only a single bed and dresser.
Neither of you were interested in sleeping on the floor for the next week, so you agreed to share the bed.
Something you wouldn't have done if you'd known Shikamaru was such a... uncharacteristically chaotic sleeper.
Seriously, he moved around more at night than he did during the entire day. Maybe it's all the pent up energy.
Within an hour of him knocking out, he was already sprawled out across most of the bed, leaving you two options: sleep on the edge or lay on him.
You tried to sleep in the bit of space he hadn't taken, really, but it seemed he was basically drawn to you.
You caved, allowing whatever was going to happen to happen, too tired to fight it any longer.
When Shikamaru eventually woke up, you were on his chest, one arm thrown over him and peacefully sleeping.
He got flustered and quickly tried to get out from under you, waking you in the process.
He was able to dart away without much suspension. Or at least he thought.
The next night was the same, minus the internal battle you'd had prior.
When Shikamaru woke up to the same dilemma, he decided it was best to fall asleep after you.
That night, he'd stayed awake under the guise of a mission report update for the Hokage.
You'd simply shrugged and gone to bed.
He followed when he was sure you were asleep, making sure each of you were on your respective sides of the bed.
He was surprised when he woke up with him on top you, head on your chest as if it was the most casual thing to happen.
He'd begin to stammer about, but stopped when you'd groaned.
"Settle down, would you?"
"I was just-"
"It's not that big of a deal, Shika, just go to sleep."
He listened to you, despite not understanding what was actually going on.
In the morning, he attempted to talk to you about it, but the conversation didn't quite go as planned.
"Yeah, you're a cuddler. Not much I can do about it, so it's whatever."
From then on, it slowly became more natural for your nights to get more personal, even once you'd gotten home.
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425599167 · 4 months
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Fallout: New Vegas is all about rebuilding society in the Mojave, and the three given factions all attempt to do so by recreating the past. The NCR models itself on the now-destroyed United States, with all the problems involved. Caesar created the Legion in the image of Rome because he believed it could best thrive in the wasteland. Mr. House is arguably the most forward-thinking with his focus on technology and eventual interplanetary travel, but he still rebuilt New Vegas from his nostalgic recollections of the city. Building on the past isn't wrong, the problem is these three factions don't appear to be learning from anything that happened.
NCR characters never directly acknowledge that they're following the example of a society that destroyed itself. Caesar criticizes them for this, believing the republic functioned best while under the quasi-monarchy of Aradesh and Tandi. But Caesar ignores how 1) Rome also fell and 2) he's confronting the same problem as a brain tumor is on the verge of killing him. Even if you treat his tumor, he's still mortal. Caesar was given an education, and his knowledge of strategy and history let him build the Legion, which he then made anti-intellectual and revisionist. The society he created cannot replace him, and will fragment when he dies. House is more contemptuous of the pre-war world, but he still brought it back, and specifically assigned the Omertas with the role of ruthless mobsters who will kill anyone in their way. Apparently he thought that was a good idea.
This extends into the DLCs, too. Elijah plans to use the Sierra Madre to wipe the slate clean and restore the Brotherhood of Steel to their position of unrivaled power, with himself back as Elder. Every day, Joshua Graham feels the pain of being burned. The Think Tank scientists are all stuck in loops, stuck in the past, stuck with their flaws centuries after believing they overcame their humanity. For all my grievances with Lonesome Road, it fits the pattern, as Ulysses saw a new society forming, saw it burn, and couldn't move on. If you let Ulysses live, he has similar criticisms of the NCR, Legion, and House. They're all idealized recreations, like the Vera Keyes hologram. Let go, begin again.
Benny may be a weird mix of dangerous and absurd, but he contrasts the other factions well. He jumped at the chance to join House, fought his tribe's previous leader to make it happen, then planned to take down House, too. House dismisses Benny as not understanding complex technologies due to his tribal upbringing, but he built a computer lab attached to his suite and studies technology as best he can. Benny doesn't want to relive the past, he wants to move forward, he wants something better. You can kill him and take his role, or, when facing certain death at Caesar's hands, he'll explain his vision and ask you to see it through.
After replaying everything, though the other endings have understandable support, I think the Independent route fits the story's themes best, the only one where something definitively new is being built. The Courier isn't remaking anything. Part of this is simply open-ended roleplaying, allowing the player to imagine the character's completed goal. If you choose one of the other three, the Courier can work to correct their faction's flaws and counter the destructive nostalgia affecting them. The Independent ending isn't necessarily the "best" for the Mojave, the Courier's morality and a hundred other decisions determine that, but it is the most compelling conclusion to the story.
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nuka · 2 months
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Call me delulu, but I woke up with hope in my heart today.
It's only been 2 months since the show was cancelled. WBD is run by an incompetent fool. WBD previously said they'd sell Coyote vs. Acme, but then made it impossible for anyone to buy it. All streaming services are struggling financially at the moment.
Daddy Jenkins had to tell us we've reached the end of the road, because that's the reality right now. Either WBD made it impossible for anyone to buy the show, or the actual realistic price was just too high for other streamers at the moment even if they wanted to buy it. “Many complimentary meetings, conversations, etc” sounds like someone was interested.
DJ and everyone else who worked on the show need to be able to move on, so they can make a living from other projects. They’ve all been holding their breath just in case they can start filming after all. The fans need to move on in the sense that we can't expect a renewal "any day now", like we did for 2 months. We can still hope that we'll see season 3 one day, but now we can be realistic about the chances of it happening in the immediate future.
Everyone who worked on this show has loved it so dearly that I'm certain that if season 3 gets greenlit in the future, they'll all want to work on it again. As long as DJ is in, the others are too. The Revenge can be rebuilt. The time that has passed can be explained in the story, if it needs explaining at all. If some actors won't be able to return, we'll get new characters added to our family, and we'll embrace them just like we embraced all the new characters in season 2.
Depending on what the problem for the pick up was, things might change very quickly, or they might take a few years. Who knows, if we continue being loud, a streaming service that quickly passed on the show in January might take interest in it later. A streaming service that offered too little might make a better offer, and WBD might accept just to get rid of us (because we're back to calling Max out on this bullshit and it's not a good look for them). Or, once the industry recovers a bit, a streaming service might be willing to reconsider spending a big amount of money on this show. And if WBD set an impossible price for the show this time, they might shop it around for a more reasonable price once Zaslav is out (or even greenlight season 3 themselves, but that’s delulu level 200). Even if we don't get a season 3, we might still get a movie, or a comic book, or a script book, or a blu-ray release, or the Jenkins Cut. And honestly, if someone was to announce they've picked up the show in a year or two... that's not a long time at all.
Pirate Daddy said that our campaign was noticed across the industry. They hear and see our love for this show. They know we're here for the show if it's ever to return. They know this show has potential.
So let’s keep having fun in the fandom. Keep being loud about Our Flag Means Death. Keep using the hashtags. Keep making fanart. Keep shouting about how unfair this cancellation was. We don’t have to do it with the same intensity as during the campaign (I know we’re all tired and it’s completely okay to step away if you need/want to), but as long as we as a fandom are consistent, they’ll see there’s a demand that just won’t go away.
There is always hope. It’s not the same kind of hope we had before January 9th, and it’s not the kind we had until March 7th. But there are so many variables, and so little time has passed. Who knows what the industry will look like in a year or two. I’d rather believe in a future that might just hold a pleasant surprise for us than throw in the towel completely.
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 5 months
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Brick by Brick 🎄
Leon S. Kennedy x reader
A/N: The holiday season is upon us!!! This is the first fic for my Christmas event, Fi's Christmas Market ☃️ <3 feel free to check that out if you're curious who and what's to come 🤭
~ Fi 🐝
Warnings: pure, whole hearted X-mas fluff, Mentions of readers mom, healing Leon's inner child <3
Word count: 2.2k
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫
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December was finally here. The most wonderful time of the year, undoubtedly. You'd been waiting all year for this. The lights, the beautiful tunes, and the atmosphere full of love and warmth. To say you were ecstatic was an understatement, the excitement had been burning in your veins since Halloween ended.
You were itching to pull out every box filled with Christmas decorations and absolutely drown your apartment in red, green and gold. Your Christmas PJs were already laid out, same as Leon's, and you'd jump him with holiday cheer the second he came home. You'd already prepared some apple cider and a few cookies. It would be such a nice evening, you knew it in your heart.
The Christmas songs would fill your apartment, the spicy apple cider and cookies would drench the room in nostalgic aromas. You'd decorate all the cabinets and tables while Leon would hang up the garlands around the living room. It was always a dream you had, decorating your little home with Leon. And since it was you we're talking about, you also got him a little something. An early present, if you will.
There was this tradition in your home, your Mother had started it one year and from then on it was something you'd enjoyed greatly. It might not be the most festive of activities but it reminded you of home, and you desperately wanted to share it with Leon. Your Mom made a habit of building Lego sets together as a family. Sitting around the table with a cup of cider, yuletide tunes playing in the background whil you were constructing your little plastic house brick by brick.
You were a little hesitant to share it with your lover since the anxiety of it being seen as childish always gnawed at your heart. But you knew him, he wouldn't judge you for something like that. He would appreciate that you wanted to share a part of your childhood with him, you were sure of it. You had gotten yourself a gingerbread house set, it was better than a real one in many ways; more fun to make, sturdier and there was no mess after.
But what you were really excited about was for Leon to see the set you had gotten him. It was a police station. As soon as your eyes landed on the set while you were scrolling through the internet, you knew it was perfect. You had warned him about a surprise so he wouldn't be caught off guard.
Your mother had an entire village of Lego houses that she'd rebuilt every year, and you couldn't wait to start your own little village with Leon. He was actually quite impressed when your mom proudly showed him last Christmas. He didn't stop talking about it for weeks after, it was quite endearing. If you could heal his inner child at least a little with this, it would be worth it.
You'd already changed into your PJs. You would've exploded if you hadn't gotten something plaid on your body. It was a long sleeve shirt with gingerbread men and women doing holiday activities. Ice skating, shopping, building a snowman. Your name was embroided in gold on the front.
The pants were a red and gold plaid, matching the embroided. It was a gift from your grandmother. She adored Leon and said that when she saw the matching sleep attire, she just had to get it. It was him who made sure they were always ready when Decemeber was around the corner.
Even if he wouldn't admit it, there was something about the holidays that made him lower his guard and just be himself. Not a rookie, not agent Kennedy, just Leon.
The jingling of keys made you jump up from your place at the table where you had been waiting patiently. Leon stepped inside with a huff, closing the door behind him. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold as he dropped his bag on the floor.
"Hi, Baby-" he was cut off by a grunt when you smashed into him, squeezing him in a bone crushing hug. "I missed you." Your words were muffled into his chest. He chuckled before leaning down to press a kiss to your head. "I missed you too, but I was only gone for 3 days." He stroked his hands down your back. "I know, I know, but it's extra special this time! We have lots to do, come on." You beamed, making him stumble as you dragged him behind you.
"Slow down, we've got all evening." He chuckled, still letting himself be pulled along by you.
You and Leon stood in the middle of the living room, admiring your work. The space was much cozier now, decked with and lights and ornaments. "We really outdid ourselves this year, huh?"
"But we need to decorate, and we have to make a shopping list for presents too, and then I have a surprise for you, and-" You stopped yourself. Leon had just come home, and you were already bombarding him with all the things you wanted to do. You cleared your throat, a little embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, I've just been waiting all year for this." You gave him a bashful smile. Leon cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. All of your worries faded away. The chains of anxiety and embarrassment shattered the second you felt his touch.
"Don't be sorry. You're cute when you're all excited, you know." He teased, taking off his jacket and shoes. A blush settled on your cheeks. "Your PJs are on the bed, I'll heat up the apple cider, okay?" He nodded with a soft hum and you pressed a kiss to his still cold cheek.
You squealed in excitement when you thought Leon was out of reach to hear you, but you were wrong. He smiled to himself when he saw you being so happy over something so simple. He loved you so much, you made his life brighter.
The Christmas songs were already on, and you were stirring the apple cider while humming to the melody. "What's this surprise I've been hearing about, hm?" Two big arms engulfed you, wrapping themselves around your waist. You swayed from side to side, pulling him with you. You poured the cider into some very cheesy Christmas mugs and set them down on the coffee table.
"Decorating first, then you'll get your surprise, Baby." You smiled, kneeling on the floor to start unpacking the boxes. "I can't believe you're making me wait. You've been excited about this surprise for months!" He argued playfully, of course. "Shut it and come help me with the garlands, big guy!" You huffed. You weren't tall enough to hang them up yourself, but you had your tall and strong boyfriend who would do anything for you.
And the little perk of watching his shirt ride up and his biceps flex definitely didn't go unappreciated. "S'not my fault you came out so small." He grinned, ruffling your hair as he passed you. You pouted and continued getting out all of your decor from the boxes while quietly grumbling. Maybe he's just unnaturally tall?! You're not small, you're perfectly average height! Okay, maybe you were on the low end of the spectrum, but still. To be fair, those garlands have never been up faster.
Not to shabby, having a tree for a boyfriend.
"Time for the present!" You exclaimed, already dragging him back to the table. You were quiet strong for your height, you've almost knocked him off of his feet once or twice.
You glanced over to Leon who had you pressed against his side. "Yeah, but's gonna be a pain to take down.." he sighed.
"Let me enjoy my Christmas craze, will ya?" You huffed. Leon put his hands up defensively and laughed.
"Alright, alright."
You refilled the apple cider and then went to grab the surprise. You brought out the big box and Leon's brows raised both in shock and curiosity. You heaved it onto the table before taking a seat next to him.
"Christ, Honey, what's in that thing? You do know it's not Christmas yet, right?" Leon chuckled, turning the box in all directions. "Obviously. But I really wanted to get you this. Besides, can't I get my boyfriend presents regardless of the time of year?" You smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He looked over at you with a buttery soft expression.
"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
"Once or twice." You grinned, before returning a soft smile. "Go ahead, open it." You encouraged him. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. You really hoped he liked it. It was a bit of a risky situation since you were worried it might open an old wound. He tore into the festive wrapping paper, revealing the gift inch by inch.
You were slightly squirming in your seat, both from anxiety and excitement. He examined the now revealed surprise. His brows furrowed but you saw the exact moment it clicked in his brain when he realized what it was. His eyes lit up like the ones of a little boy on Christmas morning, and a smile tugged at his lips.
Leon looked over to you and you caught the smallest glimpse of a shimmer of tears in his beautiful blue eyes. "Baby, I.. Thank you. Thank you for sharing this with me- you have no idea how much that means to me." He said it with so much vulnerability and love that you felt like your heart was about to give out.
"Why wouldn't I share it with you? You're my favorite person. Let me tell you, my mom was thrilled when she heard about this." You chuckled, making him snort in response. His expression softened slightly, taking your hands and guiding you from your chair into his lap.
His hands wrapped around you tightly as his head fell to the crook of your neck. "I love you. You're truly something special and I don't intend of ever letting you go." His heartfelt confession sent shivers up your spine, yet your heart has never felt warmer. Your grip around his neck tightened as you pulled him closer to your chest.
"Oh, Leon.." there was a slight crack in your voice that you had tried so hard to suppress but failed. "I love you so much. You deserve the world and so much more." You whispered into his ear lovingly, you could feel him smile against your skin. You held eachother, wrapped in a warm and loving embrace a hallmark movie could only wish of replicating.
He felt safe with you. You were his great love, his home, the keeper of his heart. He meant every word when he said he won't ever let you go.
"Please don't say that."
You could feel yourself drifting off to sleep in his comforting embrace, so you decided that now was the perfect time to pull yourself from his arms. You were dead set on putting some plastic bricks together today, and if you regrettably had to leave your lovers embrace for it, so be it.
"You wanna get started on building that thing?" You grinned, leaning back so you could see his face. "Hell yeah, I do. Let's get bricking."
You were impressed with him, though. He had never done it before but it came to him so easily. "Well, I'm very good with my hands, as you know." He smirked, giving you wink before continuing to attach the blocks to eachother. "Can't argue with the truth, I suppose." You mumbled, setting a brick on top of another.
Leon had gotten the hang of it pretty quickly. Although it might be a rather simple concept, you've seen great men fall to the tiny plastic pieces (your dad). Leon was quite the natural. It felt like in the blink of an eye, he had constructed half of the building.
"How are you so fast?! That's like half of it done!" You were sitting there with your sad little gingerbread foundation done, and he was putting up walls and furniture already.
Leon didn't know how he ended up in this situation. He had just placed the last block on his very own Lego police station. He looked over his work triumphantly, but when his gaze fell on you, he made an effort to look outside the window.
You were knocked out cold, softly snoring by his side. Your brick gingerbread house wasn't finished, the blocks were thrown across the table, and you were in the middle of it, looking as beautiful as ever to him.
But what scared him, though, was that the sun was starting to come up. He hadn't noticed how late, or early, it had gotten. He had gotten so lost in this simple pleasure it made him smile a bit. Leon couldn't help but think as he carried you to bed, to finally snuggle up and let his body rest.
You had stayed with him. The whole night you had stayed. You didn't leave when your eyelids got heavy or the intervals between your yawns got shorter. You stayed, and watched him with a smile. He realized that he wanted this with you. A life with you, one that he would spend with you until the very end.
You were definitely getting promoted from girlfriend to wife next year. It made him realize what love could and should be like. He never thought it was in the cards for him, truly. But he couldn't be more grateful to and for you. He wanted to build a future with you.
And he would, brick by brick.
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I love jack so so much he's perfect but tbh I do think it would've worked much more with the show if he was a destiel baby instead of lucifer's. and I'm not just saying that as a shipper or whatever I mean narratively it would've been a lot cleaner- and actually, I think it would've been super funny to no-homo them creating a baby together, like, literally all they would have to do is say "oh, when cas rebuilt dean after hell he accidentally left some grace tangled in his soul, and every time he's healed him since then it's been growing stronger until a nephilim was born". like yes the studio is homophibic etc etc but all the jokes they'd make about dean being spiritually pregnant would be very funny for me personally.
but ANYWAY, jack's story gets messy and convoluted and I think this would've been like...a simple fix. them worrying about him going dark side could be because they're worried how demon!dean and lucifer!cas affected him in development, the show LOVES bloodline drama, chuck's wanting abraham and issac 2.0 would've worked better this way, dean's storyline with him would be improved, bc rather than 'oh no I slowly but surely emotionally adopted the antichrist' like I think he would've had an easier time clocking his john-behavoir if it wasn't a question whether he was jack's dad or not. plus last time dean actively raised a kid he went to great lengths to keep the supernatural away from him, so it'd be interesting to see how he handles a kid he CANT possibly hide from this part of his life. it would make more sense why michael wanted jack as a vessel- yes obviously he wanted the nephilim power boost but also having him as part of the winchester bloodline, making him a PERFECT vessel he doesn't have to worry about burning up would add a lot. we could also use this argument for why lucifer is so interested in him if anyone actually liked that plotline in season 14 lmao. we know chuck hated cas and dean's relationship, could you imagine if he checked in and found out they made an unauthorized baby together💀 like that really would've given better context for why he hates jack so much. cas wouldn't need that whole weird brainwashing arc to wanna protect unborn jack, PLUS it could've been an interesting source of angst for him- he feels like he's failed once again, creating an abomination and putting dean in danger, but also still loves jack immensely. it'd be so good! also imagine how fucking stressed out heaven would be to find out a mini castiel is on the way. they wouldn't even wanna exploit that kid for power they'd be preemptively treating the headaches they know they're gonna get lmfao.
also. the casting directors literally put jensen and misha into a face morph app and cast the first actor they could find that matched the results. which would've made more sense if,,,,he was just Theirs. the comedy of dean and cas making a baby before either of them managed to admit their feelings to each other would be more fun then the "dude adopted a kid and pawns him off on his unwilling roommate's all the time and they eventually warm up to the kid" storyline we actually got. we also could've replaced some of the jack-dean angst from the show with "dean wants to connect more with jack but he feels shut out whenever cas is around bc he can't relate to any angel stuff so obviously jack's going to cas for help more!", which I think would be interesting!! how AWFUL dean and cas would feel that jack didn't feel safe enough to be a baby. dad!sam is still in full swing but he cares for jack right off the bat instead of trying to use him for his powers at first. lily sunder talking about how cas killed her kid bc he thought it was a nephilim and dean, who's already fully aware he's (spiritually) knocked up by cas is like 👹 inch resting cas-tee-elle tell me more. mary having a 'my baby has a baby' crisis. cas insisting jack looks nothing like him is a running joke but then at some point he explains its bc jack's 'true form' looks just like dean's soul....
ALSO- in a show where, canonically, the very first act of free will was cas falling in love with dean...the physical manifestation of that defeating chuck and taking his place as god? come ON.
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doe-eyed-fool · 27 days
Note
Guess who’s back!(sorry if you’re sick of me but my squirrel brain has blessed me again!)
Lucifer X Reader whose love language is food, loves eating, cooking, and sharing food. Shows their care for Luci by buying him or cooking food, making sure that every time they’re together that he’s fed. Cuz you can’t tell me that this man doesn’t forget to eat. Reader always asks if he ate today and always insists on making something if he hasn’t. Packs up leftovers for him to enjoy later and almost always knocks at his office door with a plate of food, a snack, or something sweet she baked.
I love this so much, he deserves to be taken care of like the princess he is🥺
Also no way am I sick of you, I like getting requests! Especially cute ones like this
Made With Love
Lucifer x Reader
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Being the king of hell came with a lot of responsibilities. Meetings with the other sins and powerful demons, mountains of paperwork, and now he was a full time father again.
It was all time consuming. But whenever he had some time for himself, he would usually pour himself into his, duck focused, creations. He'd be tinkering away for hours, he wouldn't even know that it was the middle of the night until he nearly passed out in the middle of his work.
At that point, he was too tired to feed himself and would just flop down onto the bed. Only to wake up and repeat it all over again.
That is, until you showed up. You and Lucifer had been dating a little while after the hotel was rebuilt. And once you learned of his unhealthy habits, needless to say, you were a little more than upset. But mostly concerned.
"Luci?" You open the door to Lucifer's workshop. Lucifer responds with a light "hm?" as you walked inside. He didn't even look at you, he must be really invested in whatever he was working on. You walked up beside him and look down.
There were noticeable bags under his eyes, and his hair was a bit of a mess. Worst of all, his hands were shaking. "Lucifer? How long have you been at this?" You ask.
"Oh uh, a few..." Lucifer looks up at the clock. His eyes widen slightly. "Hours..."
You frown and cross your arms. "Lucifer." Your tone was stern, but not harsh. Lucifer sighed and set down his tools. "I know. I'm sorry." You place your hand on his shoulder. "Have you had a break at all? Or eaten anything since you started?"
Just as you asked that, there was a rumble that came from Lucifer's stomach. And that was all the answer you needed. "Alright." You say before helping Lucifer up. "Come with me." You walk him out of the room. "B-But my-"
"You can finish it later." You interrupt him. "Right now, you're going to take a break and eat something." You lead Lucifer to the kitchen and sit him down at the table.
You would have started on something new, but you were willing to bet Lucifer hadn't ate since breakfast. So for right now, you decided to heat up last night's leftovers.
"It's not new but, you need to eat something now. I saw you shaking back there." You say as you placed the dish in the microwave. You turn and walk to the table. "Luci, you have to start taking better care of yourself. I'm worried."
Lucifer frowns slightly. "I know. I'm sorry, Y/n, really. It's just...I get so busy and, whenever I get a minute to myself, I usually just go to my workshop. It's a stress reliever, you know? But I understand, I get a little too into it and loose track of time and everything else."
You place your hand on his. "Well, it's a good thing you have me now." You chuckle. "I'll help you out with this, I promise." Lucifer smiled and held your hand. "Thank you, Y/n."
And so, you decided to do something nice for him. Every morning he'd wake up, you'd present him with breakfast, truly fit for a king. You'd also make sure to send lunch with him whenever he had a meeting. And at the end of the day, you'd make dinner for you and him both.
Lucifer was a tad overwhelmed by this, but of course he was appreciative every time you cooked for him. You worked so hard after all. And it was always very delicious.
One day, when he was in his workshop, you walked in with a tray in your hands. "Luci, I brought you something." Lucifer looked up from his work and faced you. On the tray was apple slices with a side of peanut butter and caramel, along with his favorite tea.
"Oh, Y/n you didn't have to." He says with a smile. You sat the tray down on a table next to him. "But I wanted to." You tell him. "You also give me no choice mister." You say teasingly. Yes, Lucifer knew, or finally realized more like it, that he wasn't taking care of himself like he should have been.
He had no idea how much he missed a good home cooked meal before he met you.
"Heh, yeah...Thank you, Y/n. Really, you do so much for me. I have no idea how I could repay you."
You smile softly and hand him the tea cup. "Just try to take better care of yourself, that's thanks enough. Oh, and I was thinking tonight I'd make something really nice. Maybe we can invite Charlie over too?"
Lucifer graciously took the cup and nods. "That sounds nice. It's been a while since Charlie's come over. Maybe she can bring Maggie with her too."
"Vaggie, Lucifer. Vaggie." You laugh. "Oh. Right." Lucifer chuckles lightly. "In any case, I look forwards to it. I'll help you too, if you want."
"Sure, I'd like to see what the big boss can do in the kitchen." You say with a playful grin. "You'd be surprised." Lucifer smirks. "But no magic. You're doing it by hand." You tell him. Lucifer's confidence dropped.
"Oh. Well, shit."
You laugh and pat his shoulder. "You'll do fine. You have me to teach you."
Lucifer's smile returned. "Yeah. You always do make the best food."
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adyophene · 1 month
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lucifer x husk is something i never knew i needed and as a multishipper im screaming
literally. king of hell x some alcoholic furry guy
i love them i need to know how they wouldve met, fallen for each other and started dating. and how much thatd piss alastor off
Ooh I am so happy other people are enjoying this pair as much as I am! I've gotten a few asks about my headcanons for them, and I am happy to blab on and on. Fair warning. This is gunna be a long and rambling essay.
I'm gunna put it all under a readmore, just cause I want to insert the art I've done of them so far, since I've been half-heartedly trying to tell a visual story through the doodles.
Okay. On we go!
How they met;
We did see them technically meet in the show, where they shared their singular canon piece of dialogue, which was just Husk saying 'hey'. And then in the finale where we see a literal split second moment of Lucifer holding Husk's arm.
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(also seeing the sweet looks huskerdust is giving each other here just makes me feel so delulu for writing this all, but crackships are silly by definition, so lets get back to the lucihusk) For me, what I imagined, is after the Hotel is finished its rebuilding, that is when Husk and Lucifer finally actually meet in a proper manner. I think Lucifer would be trying to make a good impression on all Charlie's friends at this point, endeared to all of them from their actions during the finale. Unfortunately, I think he is also the King of Bad First Impressions.
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[Note. I think at this point Lucifer wouldn't even remember Husk's name quite yet. I think he would call him 'Keekee' ( by accident) or 'Dusk' (confidently incorrect) or just be like "Hey!.... Uh... You?" until Charlie or Vaggie finally corrected him. ]
Husk, on the other hand, I feel like maybe wouldn't gel with Lucifer right away. Wouldn't hate him, but also maybe not be enamored with him right away. Same as Lucifer, maybe he would have sweetened on him a bit through the hotel's rebuilding, but I think they'd start out at very neutral feelings. Maybe a vague sense of 'He's okay, but I don't know if we will really get along.'
Despite this, Lucifer is persistent, and he's going to be everyone's (except maybe Al, unless they start getting along by s2) buddy. He'd start hanging around the bar and participate in the redemption exercises.
Now, we know Lucifer struggles with depression, and I think he would be trying real hard to mask anything going on during this time. They defeated Adam! They rebuilt the Hotel! He believes in Charlie's dream, and he's more involved with her life and other people than he has been for years.
His only issue being Husk sees right through it, both because Husk is perceptive, but also because even the King of Hell can't help but have a lonely night or two at the bar where he ends up venting about his divorce and subsequent lingering loneliness.
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[snapcube ref aside, )I really do think Husk would start to feel more positively toward Lucifer after Luci would drop the act somewhat. That they could bond over feeling both at their lowest of lows, while also being to admit that things seem to be getting better!
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This would be about the point that I imagine Lucifer developing more romantic feelings! Husk would be a bit less prickly, and Luci would just absolutely eat up any and all positive interactions they'd have. I like to picture a lot of little shows of care at the this point, like Husk memorizing what Lucifer likes and even making up 'fun' drinks just to try and cheer the guy up. And Lucifer would fun a fun game in trying to get the grumpy cat to smile, and just, lighting up himself any time he was successful.
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And that culminating into the two of them making each other laugh, with Alastor being an easy butt of the jokes, and a good way for Husk, himself, to finally get a chance to vent. I think Lucifer would be one of the only 'safe' options for Husk to do that with, in just so far as Al can't really threaten Lucifer, and Lucifer already sees Al as a bit of a manipulative bastard.
Falling for each other; At this point, Lucifer would start being a bit more caring toward Husk, though with that wonderful, oblivious flair of his. I don't think Lucifer himself would realize he'd have a crush up until he'd start feeling protective or jealous over Husk, and it would really throw him for a loop at first.
Because fake dating is one of my all-time favorite tropes, I have always had a idea for a fanfic (or comic) that I haven't gotten around to yet, based around Lilith coming back, and Lucifer panickily asking Husk to pretend to be his boyfriend, so he can appear well adjusted/completely over her. Of course the whole thing would backfire, as Lilith would see through it (as Lucifer wouldn't be as good of an actor as he'd think), and that Husk would end up kind of feeling hurt by the whole thing.
Husk, who'd go along with the plot with an eyeroll, would find himself seizing up through the whole fake date/encounter. Would find weird, sudden emotions bubbling up and absolutely hating it.
I don't think that man would think about the class difference between him and Lucifer up until someone would say something about it, maybe Lucifer himself trying to rationalize the (at this time still fake) relationship to Lilith. Now, Husk feels uneasy about the whole thing and ends up drinking heavily the whole night so he doesn't have to think about feelings. (Blitz and Stolas who? Ahaha. fuck.) Meanwhile, while the date would be fake, I think Lucifer would really rather like having Husk on his arm and feeling like he'd have a love-life again, while also not really getting why Husk's mood would be getting worse throughout the night. I think they'd still end up on good terms, but both of them would have their feelings in a jumble, and Husk would not like it. (he thinks he's lost the ability to love, after all)
I think somewhere at this point, as they are starting to develop feelings for one another, is when Lucifer finally starts really realizing how tied to Alastor Husk is, and he starts to make it everyone's problem. I do think Al and Lucifer would stay snarky at each other this whole time, but that it'd only get worse, as Al would poke back since he'd find Lu's over reactions funny.
I also think Al would be maybe the last person to realize anything romantic would be brewing between Lucifer and Husk, and he'd just think it'd be a purely platonic thing.
Beyond just bitching about Alastor, Lucifer would really be ramping up his attention towards Husk too. Fully in that 'puppylove/crush' stage, and trying his darndest to make Husk feel good and special. Husk would be resistant to it all, thinking it would just be Lucifer rebounding hard, and not wanting to get wrapped up in Morningstar family drama when he could happily (miserably) keep his head down and just keep drinking the days away.
But then Lucifer would find out about Husk's love of stage magic, and his history as a performer, and it'd be all over for the catman. It would become Luci's new pet project to rope Husk into some joyful self-expression, and after a song and dance number's worth of convincing, Husk would start to come around. I have to post all these images now cause- I drew them with the intention of mimicking a musical number! Husk starting off as a bit resistant before jumping in whole heartedly, and Lucifer overexcitedly dragging him along throughout the music number, hyping him up and just all around being smitten.
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And this is where Husk would start really falling. Getting swept up in indulging his favorite, least destructive hobby, and having someone who absolutely loves it to bond with. Especially when it would be over. When they would just settle down and talk, and laugh, and bond over what they love about performing. The spectacle, the audience, the love of the craft. Its about the comradery!!!
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@belladonazeppole wrote a wonderful series of fanfics based off these pictures, as well as the songs from 'The Greatest Showman' that really fit the ship! I would be remiss to not mention them here, because Bella and their fics are just wonderful!
How they started dating;
Now. Don't think just cause they both caught feelings for each other, that they'd immediately admit to it. No. I think both of them would drag their heels. I don't think Husk would admit to them at all, without some outside force effecting it. I think he'd stubbornly try to ignore the crush or drink it away, rather than let his heart become vulnerable to anymore damage.
Meanwhile, Lucifer would be struggling between his feelings for Husk and Lilith. (In the actual canon, I do think they might try to rekindle things, depending on what kind of person Lilith turns out to be, but I digress.) Part of him would be so swept up in a giddy kind of excitement, while the other would be set firmly in the camp of 'this is a bad idea, this won't work out, just look at what happened to your last relationship'. It wouldn't stop him from being outwardly more and more affectionate, but it would be weighing on him.
I do think Lucifer would end up being the one who would be thinking; "What am I doing. He'd never like me back." While Husk would be just sitting there (echoing what was said in the ask- sorry I went all wild and wrote this much about the ship dear god)- "I'm just some fucking furry alcoholic, what the fuck would the king of hell see in me??? Am I delusional? What the fuck is going on??" And I feel like this stage would go on for MONTHS and drive everyone else nuts. It would be clear to everyone (except Alastor, who again, would be just this meme
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Though that wouldn't stop him from getting a little pissy about it) And then it would all come to a head during something benign, like a board game night. There would be flirting, there would be jealousy, there would be arguing, and then finally, loudly and with a lot of feeling, Lucifer would shout his way through asking Husk out on a date. A real Date. A capital 'D' date out on the town, dressed to the nines and a real good time. The board would be knocked over in the fray, game pieces raining down upon them while Husk would just stare blank faced, trying to process what just happened. An awkward half-minute would pass before he'd finally, trying to play it cool, shrug out a 'sure'.
How much it'd piss Alastor off;
In the aftermath, a radio static would just lowly grate everyone's ears as Alastor would be slowly coming to terms on how just annoying it would be to have his friend (/Unhealthy co-dependent pet friend possession??) romantically involved (ew) with the King of Hell (double ew)??? Then, either it would be something light hearted like 'he keeps trying to break them up but failing cause he hates interacting with romance' or a darker route where 'he keeps trying to manipulate them into breaking up by preying on all their worst insecurities in the relationship'.
And that, my friend, is all I have in mind so far for this delusional crackship au! There is more I could flesh out, of course, like Angel's role as a friend or potential third in the relationship, or what I imagine as Husk becoming like a stepdad to Charlie, but I've typed enough for the whole month. Hope any of that was coherent! I did not bother to edit or proof read it. Just pure stream of consciousness.
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senseichaos · 3 months
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Howdy howdy! I ADORED "You Can't Run. Hell. You Can't Even Hide" The balance between absolute fear, dizzy hypnotic confusion, and wide eyed admiration that the reader character holds for Vox is immaculate! Also them calling him Mister Vox is just Chef's kiss (it is WAY too hard to find xReader fics or even just fics in general where the honorific is Mister (C/N) and I love every one I find). The clothing change moment was probably my favorite, I'll always be a sucker for the representation of being broken and rebuilt in someone's image combined with the gift of pretty clothes. I keep going back to reread the whole story.
I know it's a oneshot, but since your requests are open, I figured I'd shoot my shot and ask if you would make a part two where Mister Vox just wrecks us, preferably sexually. We did leave off on him finding us trying to run away, do we not deserve to be punished for such an offense after all he's done for us? I also would love to see if/how much Vox has to push us to slowly become happy to be his, if that's something he wants (I could imagine having a rowdy unwilling runaway as his possession would get frustrating after awhile and be terrible for his image). There's honestly so much potential for what could happen next, and even though I could stew in my imagination, I would very much love to be at the mercy of your interpretation of the funky TV man a little longer.
That said, take your time, I know you've gotten a huge influx of Hazbin requests, hell I wouldn't be surprised if someone else already requested something similar to what I requested. I also understand if you can't/don't want to fulfill this request for any reason, that's what makes it a request. No matter what, you're an amazing writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!
💙✨
AAAAAAH!! I love you sm! When I saw this request I knew I had to do it at some point! I'm giving you the name 💙 anon from now on so if you request again I know it's you!
_______
Forever and always
(part 2 to: You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either)
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Summary: After that day you attempted to escape from Vox, you had become somewhat accustomed to this new life you are forced to be living. Or you were until Vox gives you your first day off, causing you to find something out that would change how you live forever.
Genre: Smut, Angst, Horror (?)
Warnings: Non-Con, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Masochism, Electric shocks, Mind control, Drugging, Love potion, Vox is an asshole, Hurtful language, forced, gilded cage, soul contracts, unprotected sex (DONT), Vox owns reader, dacryphilia, let me know if I missed any!!
(not proof read)
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That day you attempted to escape from your gilded cage you wished to escape again, though vox had managed to continue his control. Even when he tugged you back by your electric leash you felt that horrid sinking feeling. This was it. For the rest of eternity as you know it Vox has you. He owns you, your soul, your body, your life; or well, lack thereof. You couldn't run from him no matter what you did, he practically controls the pride ring, keeping you tethered there like a puppy on a leash is simple to him. He has eyes everywhere. You cannot hide anywhere.
Recently Mister Vox has become a lot more... Touchy. Those fleeting touches of his fingers against your back, poking against your chin, pressing into your neck, swiping against your bottom, touching against your bosom. There is an odd burning feeling to it, you don't want to enjoy Mister Vox touching you in such ways, you don't want to enjoy it when he sucks his teeth at you or licks his tongue against his gums. But you do. You can't quench that desire. Especially when he'd moved you into his room from your apartment building. He hadn't made you share a bed with him, thank Lucifer, but he had made you sleep near enough to him that you can tell when he's.. pleasuring himself. Almost as if he wants you to hear him.
You and Mister Vox have never been better, besides from such hurdles. You stay obedient no matter how badly you wish to escape his arms. To cut all of his tight bounds on your body and run away. You'd figure out how, one day, you would.
"Good morning my dear! Did you have a gratifying sleep?" This is how most mornings go, Mister Vox will wake you with a poke if your side and a coffee in hand, already fully dressed and done up. You've always considered yourself a light sleeper, so you never know how he manages to make you a coffee every morning without so much as stirring you awake. You smile, nodding softly as you pry your eyes from his two dimensional face.
"Thank you Mister Vox, uhm.. did you have a good sleep as well?" You ask, taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee. Vox smiles, nodding as he takes a seat on the side of your bed.
"Of course, my dear. So, I know you have been working very hard recently... So I've decided to give you the day off!" Mister Vox declares, outstretching his hands as he gives you a manic smile. A day off? Why? This has to be a test. he's just going to leave you.. alone? For a whole day? This has to be fake, a joke, a flook.
"Oh my dear don't look so surprised! You've been a very good girl recently so I thought you deserved a day off," Mister Vox pauses, looking up at the roof for a second before peering back at you. "Now don't think this means we don't have rules, you are to stay in here for the day. If you want to go shopping I have to accompany you, alright? But I do have an appointment in an hour so it won't be for long,"
"Remember, I have eyes everywhere.."
You laugh awkwardly, shrinking into your own figure.
"I know Mister Vox.. I wouldn't forget," You can't stop that sorrow from entering your voice, but quickly you put on that mask of a smile once again. Mister Vox clasps his hands together, that red dripping from his maw again. "Great! Now I'll see you soon, be a good girl for me, hm?" He says, ruffling your hair atop your head with a condescending gaze.
"Yes Mister Vox," you reply simply, watching as he disappears in Into a blue line of electricity, shooting into the camera.
Fuck. Now what?
You can't remember the last time you were given this type of freedom, even if it wasn't a lot of freedom. Often you were tethered to Vox's side. Everyone in the building knows that you belong to Vox. Everyone outside of the building probably knows this, too.
There's this odd feeling in your stomach, this odd feeling as if you were floating. It happened every time you drank your morning coffee, but you'd always assumed it was just that feeling of awakening from slumber. But today, oh today it is stronger than ever before. It's as if you can feel every nerve in your body be rewired, every single hair on your body stand on end. Every sensation is doubled.
What the fuck was in this coffee? What is this euphoria? What is this yearning.. this yearning for Vox? You suddenly wish he was here, with you, holding you, calling you his good girl.. m
Shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you stand from your bed, fixing the large blue shirt you wear (that vox often asks you to wear when you sleep) as you walk to the kitchen.
The kitchen in Mister Vox's room is a large area just off to the side of his desk space, lined with many kitchen appliances and red cabinets. You are determined to figure out what he's putting in your coffee, what's making you feel so emotional. Needy. Awful. You scan the room, finding the coffee machine in the corner of the room with a couple bags next to it. Coffee, sugar, creamer... Nothing suspicious yet, it seems. Crouching down, you look open the cabinets beneath the coffee machine. Looking through the half full area.
Then you saw it, a small vial hidden behind a spare bag of creamer labeled 'Valentino and Velvette: Love potion'.
Terror shoots through you, causing you to drop the vial to the floor. It shatters everywhere, leaving the pink liquid to seep into the tiles below. He's drugging you. All this time, you feeling this want for him, burning at his touch, listening to him as he jerks himself off late at night. You wanting him to do things to you. It's all part of his plan to make you his, completely. To make you want to be his.
Burning tears fall down your cheeks, humoring you as you stand on shaky legs from the tile. What do you do? Now more than ever you want an out, a loophole, a way to take your soul back from his greedy claws. Anxiety, terror, hurt, worry, pain.
You want to prevent yourself from doing anything drastic, you really do. But all you can feel is this pain, this pain as you run on your feet to the balcony door. Trying your hardest to pry open the doors as they rattle loudly, shaking them, pulling them, pushing them. This evil man can't keep you here for any longer. You'd do anything to leave, ruin yourself for him, do something awful, make yourself less attractive to him.
Nausea. Headache. Your knees buckle as an electric blue overtakes your vision. What is this? You can't breathe, Vox. Vox. Help. Your head clouds, words fill your brain and you feel yourself being wrapped up by sharp claws. You can't scream. Help me. Please.
"You really think it's that easy?" Mister Vox.
"I can't believe I trusted you alone, even for a minute. After all I've done for you, as well. After I gave you a life some would dream for. Stupid girl." He sounds mad, horridly mad. Regretful. Throbbing takes over your body as sound waves film your ears. You can feel him lift you into his arms, placing you down onto a soft surface harshly.
"How am I supposed to make you understand this? You're mine,"
Your vision slowly comes back, until all you can see is him as he stares at you from above. His eyes are dark, domineering, needing. He's ready to take. What is he doing? All you can feel is his claw as it travels up your middle, between the valley of your breasts, stopping at the middle of your neck.
"Now, my dear? Are you going to let me teach you a lesson? For being such a brat?" You gasp, feeling his hand as it circles around your neck, effectively taking some air from your lungs. You shake your head, attempting to move your heavy legs from him with wet teary eyes.
"Nonono! Get off, please, get off!" You cry, writhing in his grasp. He sighs, rolling his eyes as he clicks his fingers. Suddenly a pulse of electricity goes through you, causing a shock to blur your eyes and pull a scream from you.
"Every time you try anything I'm shocking you, Dove. Don't try to escape from me, it's not going to work," he grins, laughing at your frightened teary eyes. "I can do whatever I want to you, my dear! I fucking own you!!" He growls, using his hand that isn't around your neck to push your thighs to your chest, revealing your bare pussy from beneath your oversized shirt.
"No please.. I'll do anything..?"
"Oh I'm sorry dear, but this is what I want more than anything right now.. maybe you should have thought of this before making such a racket and alerting everyone in the building, hm?" He says, dragging his clawed finger through your building wetness. He finally takes his hand from your neck, instead using it to keep your thighs in place as he pinches your clit between his sharp claws.
"Ah! Mister Vox.. hurts..!" You wail, wiping your tears from your eyes as he continues to abuse your sensitive bud between his fingers. He chuckles looking up at you as you gasp in pain.
"Hah! Wail all you want, dear, no one can save you." Vox guffaws, finally taking his claws from your clit. Only to plunge them into your aching hole without warning. You moan out, feeling the sharpness of them inside of you as he curls his fingers into your g-spot.
Mister Vox revels in your wails of pain and pleasure, fucking you with his clawed fingers harsh and fast. His claws are surely are scratching you from the Inside, he can tell by the way your hands tremble and clasp over your lips.
You can't help but feel good. This masochism of yours that forces it's way into you. Every scratch of his fingers inside of you just makes you want to cum. You can't give him that satisfaction, you can't let him know that you are enjoying every second of his claws thrusting inside of you. This is awful. You hate it. You hate that you love it.
"Is my little dove enjoying this? Awe.. to scared to admit you fucking love this?" Vox laughs sadistically, giving you an extremely harsh thrust of his fingers into your g-spot. You squeal, vision going white for a moment as his fingers go at this manic speed. You feel your orgasm build, wishing to break through the walls and release. But you can't let it, you won't let him have that. You'll never let him have that feeling knowing he's won.
"If you don't cum I'll fucking ruin you, dove."
You gasp and choke on saliva, clawing on the bedsheets below as he forces you to orgasm. There's no getting out. He knows that you are trying not to cum. And he won't let it happen.
"Yes.. Mister Vox.." you say softly, hole clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Vox makes sure to drag it out, giving you slow rhythmic thrusts of his fingers to watch your body contract and writhe with pleasure.
"Good dove, listening to commands for me," He says softly, stroking the side of your cheek as he kneels between your legs. You want to pull away, but once again that burning and yearning feeling fills you. That stupid potion had an effect, and you can tell. From the way you feel a dizzy want when he looks at you to the wetness that continues to build between your thighs.
"Now, I'm going to fuck you so hard.." He laughs so himself, smiling crazily as he presses his hand to his face. "I'm gonna fuck you SO FUCKING hard, you won't even remember who I am anymore! How does that sound, my little slut?" Your lower lip wobbles as more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.
"Awful.." you whisper.
Another strong electric shock goes through you, causing you to scream out Mister Vox's name in pain as your body is left shaking and aching.
From the corner of your eye, you see Vox unzipping his fly.
"Wrong answer! Haha! Wrong fucking answer stupid slut," He growls, pressing the tip of his cock to your hole without a care. There something wrong with him, he's acting more crazy than ever before. He's getting off on your fear, getting off on your pain, getting off on knowing you can't do anything but be his.
With a loud slap, Vox sinks his entire length into you. You scream, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life as he looms over you. He doesn't even give you a moment to let you rest, immediately setting a ruthless pace with his hips into yours. Every thrust causes your vision to go spotty with the pure force he drives his hips with, groaning with every thrust as he stares completely into your face as it scrunches in a pleasurable pain.
"S'too much! M-Mister vox It hurts!" You cry, reaching out to press your hands against his shoulders, clawing into his coat. You don't even care anymore, you want at least a small bit of comfort from these strong unforgiving thrusts. Vox chuckles at this, leaning down closer so he can capture your lips in a (forced) yet passionate kiss.
His long electric blue tongue immediately finds its way into your gob, passionately fornicating it against your own as his thrusts send you into a sort of floaty state. Vox maps the entirety of your mouth, tasting every crevice of you from your lips to the back of your throat. He thrusts almost ravenously like a dog, tip of his cock sometimes painfully pressing against your cervix.
Pulling away, Mister Vox looks Into your eyes, revelling in the way you claw at his back. You whimper and moan loudly, eyes fluttering closed as a tear falls down your cheek. He kisses it away, looking up at your closed eyes with a grin.
"Open your eyes, dove. Look at me while I fuck you." You cry out, opening your eyes for him so you can see him look at you with pleasure.
"Y-yes Mister- Ah! Vox.."
He chuckles, thrusting into you extremely hard. You can see the bulge of his cock in your stomach, poking against your skin in such a way you almost want to touch it.
"I'd fucking breed you if I could, fill your filthy cunt with all my little babies so then you can't even dream of leaving.. but I can imagine," Vox rambles, taking your cheek into his hand so he can look at you longingly- and almost affectionately. If it weren't for the position you're in you'd almost be enjoying this moment.
"Mister Vox!" You cry, back arching as your orgasm begins to prod at your stomach.
"Hm?" He asks, grunting as he thrusts into you.
"Can I cum? Please! Please please please.." You beg, legs quivering wildly. Vox chuckles, giving you an adoring look as you bite your lower lip.
"Awe look at you! Asking Mister Vox to cum and everything.." Vox begins, biting his lip as you sputter on a moan. "Of course you can, dove. Let go so I can fuck my cum into you.."
You scream his name when you cum, digging your nails so hard into his back you're sure his coat has tears in it.
You'd given up. Well and truly. You wouldn't admit it. But you've finally accepted it. You belong to Mister Vox. Forever and always.
Forever and Always.
Vox gives you one last thrust, emptying his cum into you with a moan from his own lips. Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, Vox drags out his orgasm by serving you a few more small quick thrusts, making sure every last drop is inside of you.
But when he has, he doesn't pull out.
"Mister Vox.. pull out.." you whimper, wiggling your hips against him.
"Haha! As if. I said i'd fuck my cum into you, didn't I? I haven't done that yet.. okay?" He asks, stroking a hand through your hair.
"Yes Mister Vox."
311 notes · View notes
Text
So! The demo is finally out! Or, a bit of it is. What’s next?
Let’s run over a few questions, so hopefully everyone is in the loop!
Q: Why is it only a little bit after so long?
A: Development has been all over the place and a big reason is just how difficult it can be to mediate between artists, programmers, writers, etc.. Mental and physical health, personal emergencies, etc.. are also a big part of this— and it wasn’t anticipated that this would eat up so much time.
The original game was planned to have Sauce (presently speaking!) handling a large majority of tasks all at once. So— when health stalled, production stalled.
Of course, healing took a bit of time to. And even now, that’s why so much of the demo is left unfinished. Overall— it wasn’t possible to complete the demo in the same amount of time the original demo was completed because realistically speaking— that was extremely unhealthy and rushed.
Because of that tight deadline, 48 hours to a week, many significant errors or retconned elements made their way into the game. A huge toll was taken that resulted in extreme burnout after. Quality (as can be seen in the CGs) suffered. An emphasis on quality is currently being prioritized, but I can safely say that I am no longer able to work at my original 2021-2022 pace.
Q: Why are you (Sauce) working alone?
A: At this point in time— we had spent a while working on the GUI and design/function of the game. It is, after all, set to have some pretty hefty features.
Translation and dub settings
Censorship and Softcore modes
A VERY LARGE story map with several endings
An additional “one-shot” story mode wherein every ending you unlock, you then unlock additional content
That takes a lot more planning than we’d anticipated.
How do we make this efficiently run on most systems?
Are we able to make sure that the size of this game is compatible with older devices?
Are the assets optimized? ( A lot of time has gone into re-drawing and working out sprite systems )
What settings are accessibility necessary for impaired players? How do we implement those options?
How do we design a stylish and efficient system?
That was something we had figured originally would be pretty easy to work out! But multiple people here are wearing multiple hats.
The rest of the team is actively working on those portions. But at the moment— we’ve decided to shelve literal art development and scripting (which was where we were hovering for a while) until we got the programming bits truly sorted out.
That leaves little old me! While they worked on this, I’ve been spending time making sure we could serve you a sample of what’s to come. My job is doling out a taste of the narrative, style, etc.. That way, once they’re finished, we can consider any feedback in the implementation of these portions of the game in the final, official build.
Hopefully that makes sense! TL;DR - Everyone’s busy making the important program my bits and designing the menus. So I’ve stepped away to work on this so you all have something to see in the meantime!
Q: Why are you REBUILDING THE DEMO?
A: The old demo— you’d think it would be easy to patch up. But it’s literally the very first build, sized up and fixed and stitched over. Unfortunately it was an unoptimized mess, even for what it was.
Hopefully a cleaner, more organized build will allow for better gameplay. But the key factor is just a desire for better quality!
Q: How often will you be uploading new additions?
A: Until all the bugs are fixed and the whole demo is rebuilt. This should be every week or so until then. Once it’s all done, the demo will see a re-release publicly!
In the meantime, please keep in mind bugs may be aplenty— and I personally apologize for this. Demos released are intended to show proof of work— but they may not be the best, most fun experience for narrative-seeking players. It’s advised immersion-prioritizing players wait until the build is fully finished and christened on our steam page!
Q: Will there be Mac support?
A: I will absolutely try!
Hopefully that helps give a bit more insight. Unfortunately it’s difficult to articulate everything that’s going on, but we’ll do our best! We’d like to have someone more verbally gifted helping us to write these posts, but until we decide how to go about that, you’re stuck with me.
We’ll do the best we can to answer any questions as clearly as possible. And again— we thank you all for your patience.
Making SDJ was clearly a messier experience than we had considered. It’s been a rollercoaster— and as Sauce speaking, I can actually attribute most of the delays to my own personal health and absence.
That— I am sorry for.
The rest of the team is working very hard to put something together that’s quality. I can promise with my whole heart that they’re doing their best. We’re all just people passionate about this project, and no matter the weather I don’t think it’s ever not on our minds.
I look forwards to putting out a large Kickstarter update soon, detailing our work and more! And I’m excited to open the airways for more and more communication.
But for now— we’ll see you next bug-fixing update.
- Sauce
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ddarker-dreams · 1 year
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Yan Chrollo x F Reader.
Companion piece to Idée Fixe.
(A journal entry that will never see the light of day, for it is meant to rot in darkness. Even the amoral owner is bound to agree with this).
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is creepy hooooly shit (he needs a hobby), and religious imagery. Word count: 1k.
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I have become hopelessly smitten with a woman who is, for lack of a better word, strange. 
She tells me she’s “probably agnostic, because that word sounds cooler than atheist”, while often exemplifying the religious doctrine she grew up in. She condemns herself for qualities she’d pardon in others. She’ll get excited over the most mundane things, such as pigeons, or when her rewards add up enough to get her favorite drink for free. I’m allowed to steal a certain amount before she stares at me, not quite comfortable enough to express her dissatisfaction verbally, yet undoubtedly pondering the perfect string of words to avoid offending me. 
The extent of her consideration for others is perplexing. There is no advantage to be gained by placating strangers, though her insistence on the matter would almost convince you otherwise. She never says “you’re welcome”, it’s always “of course”, as if the act of going so far out of her way is expected of her. If not that phrase, she’ll say “it’s no problem”, on the off chance the individual may think they burdened her. 
She’s strange, yes, but we’re alike in many ways, so I wonder what that’d make me. 
I’ve taken on innumerable roles throughout the years. I know how to judge the weight of my every word. My motivation for doing so is self-serving in nature. People, to me, are locks that require the right combination to crack. From what I can tell, she’s come to realize this too. Instead of pursuing this advantage, she shies away from it. Originally, I thought it was nothing more than people-pleasing, but it goes beyond that. She loves humanity, the same humanity I deem worthless. It’d be easier for me to understand if there was an ulterior motive. Alas, that'd be doing her a major injustice.
My initial intrigue in her was nothing more than a passing fancy. I had time to pass, and she just happened to be in the vicinity, reading a book I’m partial to. I thought I’d give her a few minutes of my time and then be on my way. Presently, however, If I believed in fate, I’d go so far as to say our paths were destined to cross. She is every part of myself that has died a slow death. Optimism, empathy, passion… they mix together to form the essence of her being. 
I didn’t intend to give her so much of my time. She became indispensable to me before I realized what was happening. In retrospect, perhaps I knew deep down that this was the type of person I’d been looking for. Someone I’d struggle between wanting to ruin or preserve. I erred toward the former at first. If I didn’t wake her from her naïve reverie, another would inevitably come down the line and do it themselves. The mere concept was unforgivable. 
As time passed, it became clear she wasn’t living in a dreamlike state, but was perfectly aware of her surroundings and the people who inhabit them. This left me at an impasse. How do you destroy someone who has already annihilated and rebuilt themselves? There are ways, yes, yet no longer did the idea appeal to me. I wanted something new from her, though the specifics alluded me. What I did know, however, was that this strange woman would touch many lives for the better. 
This was a constant torment. I’d have to go about my business, knowing full well she’s making others smile, laugh, and otherwise brightening their day elsewhere. My chest would become impossibly tight whenever I fixated on this. She holds qualities people are inevitably drawn to. She is radiance incarnate, so easy to adore. A light like that is visible far and wide.
When I pressed back against her dearly held beliefs, instead of fading, she burned ever brighter.
I know she feels it too — this invisible rope that binds us. She’ll happily talk to me for hours, even when I forgo superficial charm and express slivers of my depravity. She sees it, acknowledges it, and seeks me out all the same. I find myself talking more than I meant to when she’s around. She challenges me, interestingly enough. Her arguments often have holes and aren’t by any means polished, but she cuts to the heart of things. 
She is my personal torment. I want every inch of her for myself. Her unique mind, heart, soul… would it be enough? Could I stop there? Or would I keep going, taking more and more, until we were essentially one flesh? 
It’s by her recommendation I’m writing any of this down. She said “I am in desperate need of intensive therapy” and sent some links to her recommendations. I’m inclined to give in to her requests since she asks for so little, but that might be the one I have to refuse. I cannot recall the last time I met someone this amusing, if ever. The inner workings of her pretty little head are a mystery I long to unravel.
Displeased as I am to admit it, a day will pass when she no longer looks at me the way she does now. My true identity can’t go unknown forever, the revelation is inevitable. Still, I won’t let her go. My grip will only grow tighter. If her ire is my penance for possessing her entirely, then I’ll accept the sentence and chip away at it over time. Emotions are transient. With the right encouragement, I can guide her back to my arms, even if she considers the embrace a scourge. 
When we first met, she said something that has taken permanent residence in my mind. 
“So long as I can say I helped one person, that’s good enough for me.” 
This was always bound to be my benediction and her condemnation. 
From that moment onward, her life was mine to do with as I please. There are many far more worthy of her than I, which is why I’ll never give them the chance. I’ll deprive the world of her vibrancy. It could become engulfed in eternal darkness, and still, I’d happily refuse to give her back. Let them lament, weep, and gnash their teeth.
In my youth, I set out to be the greatest villain. Never have I been more willing to carry out the actions befitting such a lofty title. 
This is the curse of a wicked man’s love, [First] [Last]. Revisit your religion and pray fervently. For only a god could save you from the future I’ve planned for us. 
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