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piecksz · 3 years

Text

dirty little secret | (m)

pairings: jock!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, dub con, cheating, creampie, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, saliva, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, sneaky sex, explicit language

words: 3.2k+

summary: eren’s unsatisfied in his relationship with his girlfriend, so he looks to you for sexual gratification.

a/n: all the characters in this story are adults! it was originally meant to be a college au but the whole “fire drill” detail doesn’t really make sense in a college setting since fire drills are typically held in dorms, so as per usual 18+ minors dni.

Your legs moved quickly against the polished tile of the hallway while you sped up to meet with your class who had already been far ahead of you, disappearing into the throng of people filing outside at the blaring signal of the fire alarm.

You’d excused yourself during your lesson to use the bathroom, unaware that an unplanned drill had been scheduled for that day, so with haste you finished up and rushed to rendezvous with the rest of your classmates before you were left inside the building.

As you rounded the corner, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your forearm, forcibly pulling you behind the small door that stood at the end of the corridor.

Instinctively, your hands balled into fists, and you threw them blindly in the direction of your assailant. You hoped that you’d at least land one successful hit, and it would give you enough time to break out of their hold and flee.

“Y/N, relax! It’s just me!”

Your hysterical flailing ceased, and you opened your eyes hesitantly at the sound of your attacker’s familiar voice. “Eren?”

Frantic pupils fell upon a pair of mischievous jade eyes, and your terror-stricken expression contorted into an angry scowl as you drove the palms of your hands into his chest, sending him careening back into the metal shelf behind him. “You asshole! What is wrong with you?”

Eren’s quick reflexes allowed him to catch himself and the rack before both were sent tumbling to the floor. “Ow,” he grumbled, rubbing away the soreness spreading over the skin of his arm from your knuckles’ potent impact. “You’ve got a brutal left hook.”

“Yeah? You wanna see my right one?” Your right hand tightened as if you were projecting another throw, but Eren’s outstretched arm maintained a safe amount of space between you two. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Eren’s tightly-wound eyebrows began to arch as his distressed face eased into a buoyant grin. “I wanted to see you. I missed you.”

You blinked. “Were you the one that pulled the fire alarm?”

“No, I didn’t pull the fucking fire alarm,” he replied sourly, evidently offended that you’d suggest he’d do something so juvenile. “I just got lucky.”

Your curled lip relaxed, and your irritation waned into a resigned stare. You desperately wanted to trust Eren’s saccharine words, and it didn’t take much effort to believe him while you were faced with his stupidly winsome expression. His smile was warm, eyes glossing over with adoration like he was truly expressing what he felt, and it wasn’t just empty flattery, yet you’d been more perceptive than to just take his intentions for what they were. Rather, you’d been smart enough to learn from last time.

He’d said something along the same lines, after you two had hooked up in his car after his lacrosse game. He was feeling mirthful after winning and wanted to celebrate with you, but on the cusp of his orgasm, he’d let the “love” phrase slip, and when you’d asked him about it afterward, Eren mulled over it for a second before nodding, admitting that he had feelings for you.

His confession had been somewhat of a relief, and you’d expected him to end things with his girlfriend shortly after he’d realized what he really wanted, but the following day in the courtyard, you were stunned to see Eren sitting with her and the rest of his friends, showering her with kisses like nothing had taken place the night before.

You swore you’d learned your lesson.

“Are these new? Can I see them?” Eren’s fingers gently wrapped around the frame of your glasses, pulling them from your face, and he slid them onto his ears, adjusting their position on his nose. “How do I look?”

“I can’t see, Eren,” you answered simply.

Eren laughed bashfully. “Right, I think they look better on you instead.” He slid your glasses off and tucked them back behind your ears.

Your lenses restored your lucid vision, and now that you could properly see, you noticed the way Eren’s lips were parted, lids low and languid as his face lingered only inches from yours. He’d used your glasses as leverage to get closer to you, a crafty technique, and now that he was close enough, he could whisper.

“You know what else looks better on you?” The corner of his mouth quirked upwards into his cheek, and he closed the space between you two, fixing his lips onto yours while his thumb and index finger supported the curve of your chin. His kiss was slow, mouth undulating with the most tender of movements, and when he carefully slid his tongue between your teeth you could taste the vague chill of spearmint on his breath. He proceeded timidly, as though he was touching you for the first time, but that was the very detail of your couplings that always had you running back. He handled you like he cared.

The tip of Eren’s nose skimmed against yours, ever so slightly, while he continued prompting his tongue further into the depths of your mouth, eager to have you savor his desire.

Your body was traitorous and unmoving, allowing Eren to command you with his lips, and for a few blissful minutes, you forgot the two of you were crammed into the unyielding space of a storage room.

Eren withdrew from your mouth, and tilted his head to the side so he could occupy the empty curve of your neck, and once you felt him press mild kisses to the hollow of your throat, you freed a displeased sigh and sent him backwards with an assertive push.

“Seriously? In the supply closet?”

“We’ve got like fifteen minutes before everyone comes back.” He reassured you, shrugging dismissively before tipping his head in for another kiss.

You shifted backward, studying Eren as he continued to lean in until his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Wondering why he wasn’t receiving any contact, his eyes flitted open.

“You still haven’t broken up with her have you?” You pressed your lips into an unamused line.

Your question had Eren angling until he was standing upright, and then he rolled his head back and released a groan as though already tired from your question. “Y/N, come on. I don’t feel like having this conversation.”

“Have you?” you probed.

“No, I haven’t. It’s not that easy.”

“It really is.”

Eren drew his eyebrows up, now in regret. “We’ve been together since freshman year. Do you know how big of a douchebag it makes me look if I break up with her two months before graduation?”

You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Do you know how big of a douchebag you look fucking me behind her back?”

Eren’s eyes drifted to the side.

“Or are you just embarrassed to be seen with me?” you questioned, canting your body into his view.

“Okay, you sound ridiculous,” Eren laughed dryly.

“Because I’m not a cheerleader or an athlete, and I have about one other friend. You don’t want everyone to know you’re fucking the girl that spends lunch in the library.”

“What kind of cliche movie do you think we’re in right now?”

“It’s just something I’d expect from someone who peaked in high school.” Your words were sharp on the tip of your tongue, and you could tell by the way Eren recoiled that your statement managed to penetrate his seemingly careless guise.

“I’ll handle it okay?” Eren’s hand slid over the back of his neck, looking blameworthy of all the faults you’d accused him of. “But right now I really need help handling something else.”

Your eyes narrowed in his direction after realizing he’d managed to do it again, forcing you into forgiveness with his charming abashed impression. He’d taken advantage of how spineless you were when it came to matters concerning him.

“Please?” he urged.

It was his thick brown brows that were creased in the middle and opalescent green eyes that stared you down that made him look so sincere. He was easily one of the most spellbinding people you’d ever met, attractive and likable, he knew exactly what cards to play to get his way, and even though you were aware of it, you always found yourself wrapped around his finger. A pretty face and a sweet tongue was a recipe written up by the devil himself.

You lowered yourself onto your knees, leveled with Eren’s hands working swiftly against the buttons of his slacks. “I’m done doing this, Yeager,” you announced wryly.

“I know,” Eren said, as though guaranteeing you it would be the last time.

He pushed his pants down along with his briefs in one swift motion, freeing his cock from the tight cotton confines of his underwear. His length was already rigid, the sticky beads of precum leaking out of his swollen head the result of your stalling. He’d already provoked himself by thinking of all the ways he wanted to have you, you didn’t have to do anything more to get him hard.

A relieved exhale left Eren’s lips once he grabbed the base of his cock in the sweaty heat of his palm, tapping his wet tip against your bottom lip, then he pulled the hem of his shirt up slightly, allowing you enough clearance to take him into your mouth.

You wrapped a ginger hand around his length, feeling the way his warmth throbbed in your fingers, and you leaned in, using your tongue to lap along the rim of his cock.

“Fuck—” Eren’s voice was husky as it ripped through the depths of his throat. He watched you with heavy lids, observing the way your tongue’s tip danced around his swollen head, giving coy licks to his slit, and the way his cock twitched with need at the slightest provocation. “Jesus Christ—”

You gave him a few generous pumps before taking him whole, humming at the way his girth felt against the inside of your cheeks. The skin of his length ran like hot silk over your tongue as you fell into a natural rhythm, and your lips and hand rocked back and forth against him.

Eren’s face broke out into a dirty grin. “You’re such a little slut for my cock, aren’t you?”

You glared up at him over the edge of your glasses.

“Sorry,” he responded meekly, fingers brushing away the strands of hair that fell loosely against his forehead.

You continued working against him, excited by the honeyed melody of his moans every time your fingertips ran over the sensitive skin of his balls. Eren’s cock pulsated against the surface of your tongue with each small ministration, and you watched the muscles across his abdomen tense.

“I know you hate me,” he started. “But you have no idea how hot you look on your knees right now. Keep glaring at me like that, and I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

The mention of Eren’s warning had a torrent of heat surging between your legs, and you fought off the urge to dip your fingers beneath your skirt and begin rubbing away your discomfort. You didn’t want him to know you were enjoying this almost as much as he was.

Your heavy yet stifled breathing caused your glasses to fog lightly, so you sat back on your knees, withdrawing your mouth from him briefly to catch your breath. You lifted a thumb to wipe away at the saliva that dribbled down your chin, but Eren’s fast fingers stopped you, holding your wrist away from your face.

“Don’t,” he breathed. “You look pretty like that.”

You ran the back of your hand across your cheeks, as though you were trying to rub off the furious heat that crept across your skin and over your nose. “Shut up.”

Eren only responded with an amused smile.

Then when you brought him back to your lips for the last time, his hands settled on the crown of your head, and he pushed his cock back in until his tip relentlessly prodded the back of your throat. Holding your head in place, he began jerking his hips, fucking your mouth at an agonizingly slow pace that had heavy tears cascading down your cheeks.

Every time his cock slowly and deliberately pressed against the back of your throat, you gagged involuntarily, fingertips digging into the side of his thighs.

“Feel how hard I am?” Eren asked. “You did that.” He rocked his pelvis forward again, muffling your whines.

“Yeah? You like it when I fuck your pretty little face, don’t you?” He thrusted himself between your jaws, throwing his head back and liberating a series of foul swears. “I really need to feel you.”

With the declaration of his wish, he pulled his cock out of your mouth, inhaling sharply at the obscene sight of his length coated and dripping with your spit.

After your dry heaving subsided, Eren helped you up with a gentle hand, running his palm between your shoulder blades to soothe your coughing. He made sure you were steady before cuing you to turn so that your back was facing him, then he watched as your shaky hands slid underneath your skirt and fingers hooked around the fabric of your underwear.

“Pull out this time, Eren. I mean it,” you rasped, cautioning him ahead of time. You stepped out of your underwear and used the toe of your shoe to cast it aside.

Eren’s hands reached under your hem, large palms gliding over the curve of your ass. “The odds of you getting pregnant are like one in what?” He flipped up your skirt and continued teasing the skin of your backside. “Plus I always cover you for the pill, don’t I?”

“I don’t care, cum in me and you’re dead.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the metal shelf, and you slid your arm around Eren’s shoulder while he placed one hand on your waist for support and curved the other under your thigh. Then, he brought your knee up to his chest until all of your weight was allocated onto one leg.

Eren held his cock with his fingertips and slid himself between your folds from behind. You let out a soft, unanticipated whimper, but quickly brought your teeth down on the flesh of your tongue to smother any more sounds of pleasure. You didn’t even bother looking over your shoulder at Eren’s satisfied smirk, you could tell by the way his hand squeezed your thigh that he had noticed it.

Eren positioned himself at your entrance, skimming his wet tip over your hole before sliding himself inside you. His cock slipped in with ease, your saliva acting as a crude lubricant.

“Oh fuck—” His breath was hot over the span of your neck.

“Eren—” you sighed, forgetting all your pretenses. You closed your eyes, enjoying the way he stretched you out, and then he started moving causing a pattern of shallow cries and moans to fall from your lips.

“Fuck Y/N, you drive me fucking crazy,” Eren groaned, thrusting up into you, slowly and rhyhmically, steadily filling you to the hilt every time, while his hand traveled beneath your ribcage to cup your breast over the crisp fabric of your uniform. “She doesn’t take me as well as you do.”

You shook your head, making weak sounds of protest between delicate whines. “I don’t wanna hear that, Eren—”

“But it’s true.” Eren moved quickly between your legs, hissing every time your slick walls tightened around his aching cock. With each punctuated thrust, you continued to lose yourself, until your need unfurled and Eren had you under siege. His methodical pace sent you into a flurry of moans, and you cried his name over and over.

His even strokes began to stagger, and his breathing became rapid and shallow, chaotic pants of hot air rolling out over the span of your shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum—” He continued pounding into you, faster now, harder, keen on drawing out his orgasm, and then Eren gave one last thrust, so deep it had you shutting your eyes and pursing your lips to keep from screaming. Then he shuddered, his body convulsing with the bout of his orgasm, and you felt him release inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your pussy with every twitch of his cock.

“Y/N—” he moaned, resting his chin in the curve of your shoulder while he continued to jettison every drop of his release until he was sure he was empty.

Your hands tightened around his shoulder, as the ripple from Eren’s climax had your cunt tightening around his length, and ecstasy spread over the span of your pelvis and down your thighs. Once he grew limp, he slipped himself out of you, and you felt a slow stream of his cum run down the inside of your thigh.

“I said not to cum in me you fucking idiot.” Your legs were sweaty, making it easier for you to twist yourself out of Eren’s hold until you were now standing upright, both legs planted unsteadily on the ground.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Eren wrapped his arms around you apologetically, but you shrugged him off, using your elbow to drive him back.

Your eyes scanned the closet with haste, looking for tissue paper you could steal to clean up the mess between your thighs, and Eren must have sensed your aim because he made use of his height, seizing a large roll from the top shelf and unwrapping it before handing it to you.

You grabbed it out of his hands, waiving a statement of gratitude, and ripped away a few plies, crumpling them up into a generous wad. “You owe me eighty dollars.”

Eren’s eyebrows lifted and his face twisted into an incredulous expression while he stuffed himself back into his pants and buttoned them up. “Are you running a prostitution ring?”

“I’m serious. Fifty for the pill and thirty just for dealing with you.” You straightened out your uniform, and watched as Eren did the same, tugging on his collar to smooth out the creases.

“You’re a mean little bitch,” he jeered with a slight playful undertone, and then he looked off to the side in concentration. He turned around, pressing his ear to the door of the supply closet, and then he looked back at you. “I think they’re coming back.”

You hummed.

“I’ll walk out first.”

“Right,” you said unenthusiastically, recalling that no matter how many praises he lavished you with in private, in public you were still his dirty little secret. He vowed to you that he would end his current relationship because it was clear you were growing tired of being his toy, good enough for him to fuck but undeserving of anything else. And after all was said and done, when you two passed each other in the halls, he’d still glance at you with the cordiality of a stranger.

Eren had promised to handle it, yet it was obvious he had no intentions to, and you knew that while you watched him give you a fond smile before slipping out of the supply closet.

#eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren x reader #eren x reader smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x reader smut #aot smut #aot x reader #aot x reader smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x reader smut #aot au #eren au #attack on titan au

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ka-za-ri · 4 years

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34 and 11 please with Lucifer and Simeon.

So, I couldn’t tell if you meant Lucifer/Simeon as a pair or Lucifer and Simeon with the reader... sooo I just went with it. Took me a while to figure out how to write this with a good dynamic. A little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst, a lot of romance... I hope you like it! (unedited bc we die like heroes here) Gender Neutral Reader

_(:3 」∠)_

Part of the Two-Part Drabble Game Requests

Setting: Date gone wrong Quote: “Your hand is in my personal space. Not that I mind. Character: Lucifer and Simeon

It was supposed to be a cute little outing downtown with Simeon. It was supposed to be a well deserved break from your hectic life to unwind and spend some time with the guy you liked. It was supposed to be the perfect day out. Some lunch, some window shopping, maybe a stroll in the park and then watching the sunset together.

Supposed to be.

However, neither of you had been made aware of the festival being held in town that day. Instead of the usual bustle of a reasonably busy weekend, the streets were packed with crowds. Your senses were assaulted by all the sounds, smells and sensations that came with a festival.

At first, you wanted to ride it out, pretend it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. However, Simeon could sense your discomfort with having to deal with so many people in one place at one time. “Let’s go somewhere else.” he suggested when he noticed the way you flinched at any remotely loud, sudden sound.

You were more than happy to get out of the thick of things and to somewhere quieter. Simeon seemed to know all of the good hole-in-the-wall cafes and brought you to one of his favorites. Immediately, the warm wood finishing and the quiet chatter put you in a much more agreeable state of mind.

Simeon led you to a quiet corner of the cafe once your orders had been retrieved and placed his hand on top of yours. “Sorry I didn’t plan this day better.” he apologized, rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand. “I know how you are with crowds and I didn’t think to look…”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink and letting the familiar flavors take the edge of your frazzled nerves more. “It’s okay.” You reassured him. Though the date hadn’t gone as planned, you still got to spend some quality time with him. “I don’t think either of us really looked up if there was going to be anything going on downtown today. It’s neither here nor there.”

He smiled softly, adoring how you were still so determined to be out and about with him despite usually being an introvert. It was a rare opportunity for both of you to have time to do anything like this. Simeon didn’t have the right words to quite express just how happy he was to just have time with you. “Well, since we’re here, I think I remember there’s a pa--”

“Simeon?”

Simeon stopped mid sentence when he heard his name being called. He looked around to see who the owner of the voice was and as soon as he saw who it was, he broke out in a wide grin. “Lucy? Is that really you? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Simeon scooted his seat over to allow Lucifer to join in. You stared, dumbfounded at the sudden intrusion, but didn’t question it. The way Simeon beamed and grinned when he saw this person was an expression you rarely saw. It was likely best to leave things for the time being.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it? And who might this be?”

“My partner!” Simeon stated proudly before introducing you to him.

“A pleasure to meet you. Lucifer.” The stranger greeted smoothly before pulling up a chair to join you at the table. “I hope I’m not intruding on your date together.”

“Oh, no not at all.”

It would have been rude to interject and tell him that he was intruding. You had to keep Simeon’s smile in mind. It was an expression you rarely got to see. He was usually so cool and collected, seeing him so animated was a bit of treat for you. For his sake, you didn’t want to cause a scene. Your initial date plans had been foiled anyway, it wasn’t like your day could get any worse, right?

“Lucy and I go way back.” Simeon explained. “At least two decades.”

“I think it’s a little more than that.” Lucifer chimed in. “And can you not call me that in public?”

“Okay fine Lucifer.” Simeon corrected himself. “What have you been up to these past few years? I feel like we lost all contact after you quit your last job.”

“Ah, well…”

What they had was a bond that went beyond what you could ever hope to achieve. The way they interacted and reminisced about the times they had together pushed a thorn of envy into your heart. They had all the time in the world and you had only ever occupied a fraction of Simeon’s life. It didn’t feel right to cut into their conversation as they reminisce over the past and caught up.

They pulled you into a life with them that you could never experience. The drink in your hand grew tepid as the hours went by and they continued to chat. It was almost as if you weren’t there, as if you didn’t matter. Despite being surrounded by people, it felt oddly lonely to be at that table with them. They were in their own little world and you could only imagine what it would have been like if you were with them.

For a moment, you were pulled out of the romantic moment you were having with Simeon to see him in a way you were never permitted to. This stranger and his stories about his life drew out an energy and a life no one ever got to see. It was an odd magic Lucifer had and you were equal parts grateful and envious of it.

There was something that drew even you in. Lucifer had a way with words that had you entranced and falling in love with the world he built. You could understand how Simeon seemed to be so smitten with reconnecting with him. The stories he shared were mundane yet somehow so colorful, you could imagine yourself right there with him. It put you in a comfortable lull and you didn’t mind being so quiet during the time the three of you shared.

“So what brought you out to this side of town anyway?” Lucifer asked, turning to you for a change and dragging you into the conversation.

You snapped out of your daze and blinked. Surely he was asking Simeon and not you; however, when you looked up at your partner, you were surprised to see that he too was looking at you, waiting for an answer. “Ah, well…” You laughed nervously, fidgeting with the empty cup in your hands. “We were supposed to be on a date downtown…”

“So I was interrupting something.”

“Well, no. I mean, it was too crowded downtown so we left early.” You shrugged, pretending it didn’t affect you as much as it did. Having a whole day of plans ruined more than once weighed heavily on your shoulders. But, moving the focus to yourself was selfish and rude. After all, Simeon hadn’t seen Lucifer in years, you weren’t about to break up a long awaited reunion. “It’s not a big deal. It’s probably better that we ended up here anyway.”

Lucifer hummed, tapping his finger on the table and assessing the energy between all parties at the table. “Well, I apologize nonetheless for interrupting and usurping your time. Allow me to make it up to you both.”

You learned quickly that Lucifer moved the world at his own pace and all in his wake were helpless in objecting his whims. He led the two of you out of the quiet cafe and onto the streets washed with the warm oranges of a perfect sunset. One of his hands held onto Simeon while the other near dragged you along to follow his impossibly quick gait.

He moved with a grace and a purpose you wouldn’t have expected for someone traveling so fast. You stumbled, half jogging to keep up with him. You didn’t know if you should be worried about where you were being taken. Simeon’s cheerful laugh as he was being towed behind Lucifer seemed to at least bode well.

While the scenery flashed by you and all you could do was focus on keeping up with Lucifer’s long strides and purposeful direction. You could only hope that he wasn’t about to lead you to your untimely demise. While frantically trying to match his pace, you realized that you couldn’t deny how easily this man had injected himself into your life. The way he asserted himself and dominated the pace of the day had you a little bit infatuated with him. His life beyond the little tidbits he shared at the coffee table had piqued your interest and left you yearning for more of his stories. The backdrop of Simeon’s gleeful laughing only added to his allure as it seemed like this man was the only person in the world who could pull such strong emotions out of your partner.

By the time he let the two of you stop and catch your breath, you were greeted with a grand view of the town below you. If you squinted, you could make out the rough outline of the downtown buildings where your day had begun. The sun had just sunk past the horizon and twilight washed across the city. Tiny twinkling lights from the windows illuminated the darkened residential areas, bringing the night sky to earth.

Further, the distinct whistle and pop of fireworks went off where the festival was being held. You made your way over the railing at the ledge you had arrived at and leaned against it to get the best view of the show. “Oh wow, I didn’t know this place existed.” You breathed, admiring the light show.

“Hopefully it makes up a little for the awful date this has been.” Simeon apologized softly, he reached for your hand and squeezed it softly. “It’s been a bit of a flop, huh?”

You giggled, it was impossible to be mad at him when he was so cute. Oblivious as he might be, you could forgive him for one terrible date. “Well, really, you have to thank your friend for saving it.”

Simeon tilted his head and looked at Lucifer who had joined you at the railing and mouthed a quick thanks in his direction. Lucifer only shrugged, waving it off as if he did things like this on a regular basis.

While they had their little silent exchange, you let your emotions stew. You were being unreasonably selfish wanting to keep Simeon in your life while also getting to know Lucifer better. The two of them had a chemistry you couldn’t deny and if all things didn’t work out in the end, you reasoned it would only bring them together while you made a graceless exit out of their lives. Perhaps it was the overall romantic ambience that emboldened you to go for it.

You tried to be subtle, but you were sure Lucifer was the kind of person who took note of everything that happened around him. Before you could reach out for him, you felt his fingers pull your hand closer to his, lacing themselves in between his own and securing your palm against his.

“Uhm… Excuse me, your hand is in my personal space….” You paused, averting your gaze and trying not to be too flustered about it. “Not that I mind…” You mumbled the last part as the boom and crackle of the fireworks drowned out your words.

One hand held the love of your life, the other held the hand of an alluring stranger who had an impossibly strong pull. Between them, you were torn and impossibly selfish, wishing you could have both in your lives. The show was dying down and before it ended, you knew you had to make a choice.

“So, Lucifer.” You started, finally gathering up enough courage to look him in the eye. “How about you come over for dinner sometime?”

“That sounds lovely, I would be honored to join you.”

Behind you, Simeon leaned to the side, catching his old friend’s eyes. He grinned from ear to ear, winking knowingly and squeezed your hand in reassurance.

Perhaps the date wasn’t a total flop after all.

#Simeon x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Simeon x Lucifer #Simeon x Lucifer x Reader #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Simeon #obey me fanfiction #my writing #requests #Anonymous #Happy sunday #I have never had a single coherent thought in my life

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Worth (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Angst/comfort

Request on my Wattpad: “I was wondering if you can do a Todoroki x wolf reader where the reader is depressed and bullied because of her quirk and her family knows about her wolf quirk and disowns like they think she a disgrace abuse her and doesn't want her and she feels so worthless she gets to a point where she feels not good enough and that she completely loses control of herself and turns into wolf or monster version wolf and Todorki he tries to help her I hope this makes sense and I hope it's ok”

Word count: 2,038

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: I’m not terribly happy with this, but it was a different kind of request, and I’m glad I did it. If it’s cringey, I’m sorry, but I hope it meant something to someone.

Also even though the request indicated female pronouns, I didn’t really use any, so consider this gender neutral. If anyone was wondering, I wanted the character to be kinda like Atsushi from Bungo Stray Dogs with the hair color and the personality, but also with wolf ears, so do with that info what you will.

I run through the dimly lit streets, tears streaking through my eyes as my heart pounds and chest heaves. I don't know where I'm going, but I know I have to get out of this hell I call life. Everything I thought I knew was a lie, I was the only person who didn't know it.

Tripping over my own feet, I finally tumble down a hill and land at the base of a tree, finally stopping my rabid movement, but it doesn't help my mind running five hundred miles a minute. I turn in on myself, trembling as the darkness surrounds me, clawing at me the same way I grip my legs to my chest.

The image of my parents smiling together with my younger sister is the only thing I see behind my eyelids. The last time I saw my family, there was nothing but turmoil and contempt. All the times my sister pulled at my ears, locked me in a closet, and cut me up; all the times my parents punished me by having me sleep outside "like the dog I am" for the slightest misdemeanors. They used to always argue, there was always screaming in my house.

My former house.

When I got into UA and we were forced to live in the dorms, my parents couldn't look happier. In front of Aizawa and All Might, they contained the sheer joy they felt like the actors they are, and when my teachers left, they hurried to throw all of my things out the door.

"Finally, we can get rid of her!" they cheered. I can only watch in horror as they pack all my stuff away before pulling me by the ear and setting me out next to my belongings.

"Don't ever come back! From now on, you're on your own!" That was the day I became an orphan.

My parents always had this vendetta against me because of my quirk. They don't know where it came from, no one in our family even had one like me. My dad used to always accuse my mom of having an affair with another man after she had me. I don't know why he ever stayed, if he really believed that was true, but they both looked at me with contempt because of the quirk I shouldn't have. And then I did the worst thing I could've done: I lost control one day. When I was playing with my sister, I don't even remember why I got angry, but I bit her and scratched her. The only person who loved me in that house suddenly became scared, and grew to hate me just as much.

School wasn't any better. Everyone teased me for being the tamest wolf they've ever seen.

"I thought you were supposed to be scary, you're actually a huge wimp!"

"What kind of hero can you be when you can't even stop mumbling to yourself?"

The only reason I was so quiet is because I couldn't even raise my voice to assert myself in my house without being punished. My parents were so scared of me losing control again that they put me down for getting the slightest bit aggravated, so I learned to just lay low and stay quiet. And I couldn't stand up to my bullies for fear of being punished at home.

I'm so ashamed of my quirk.

Going to UA was a dream of mine. It was my ticket to being able to use my quirk freely, so I can learn to control it to become a great hero. But I quickly realized how weak I and useless I was in comparison to the other students. Not being able to use my quirk at home took a toll on me, it was a miracle I even passed the entrance exam.

Today was particularly bad. I didn't do well in quirk training today; I've been trying to partially manifest my quirk in some parts of my body to temporarily amplify my strength, but it's just not working. Going for a walk in town to clear my head, I spotted my family out together, happy and smiling without me around. And that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

I tremble to myself under the tree, pushing against the rough bark biting into my forehead. They're so much better without me. I was holding them back this entire time, I should've left years ago.

I'm a failure as a wolf.

What kind of wolf am I when I can't even use my quirk?

I'll never become a hero.

This is all because of my stupid quirk!

"Fuck everything!" I don't even realize when I'd stood up and started punching the thick trunk. Blood drips from my knuckles, my vision blurry from tears. "You'll never be a hero! You're a failure! All you did was tear your family apart because of the stupid quirk you can't even use properly! Idiot! Stupid! Weakling! Dumbass! Homewrecker!"

Fury rushes through me, the grayscale colors in front of me fuzzing together. My arms grow in size suddenly, my punches boring a large hole the size of my head into the bark and my nails have grown. Looking down, I'm farther off the ground, my clothes ripped to shreds on the grass, and teeth have grown into fangs. The shadowed silhouette of a wolf figure on two legs presses against the ground behind me, cast by the light of the moon. I scream, which sounds more like a gravelly growl into a howl. My blood boils with all the anger built up over the past ten years, fueling this wolf form I've only taken twice in my entire life.

I catch a familiar scent in the distance, blood warming my body at the thought of fresh blood.

"(Y/n)!" A voice screams from the top of the hill I rolled down as it runs towards me. Once the owner closes in and notices what's going on, he stops short, gawking up at my form.

I snarl, crouching down as if getting ready to strike. My rage blinds me, only guiding myself by the smell of my prey as the shadows blur.

"(Y/n)," he repeats, more carefully this time, "Calm down, it's me. I won't harm you."

My fangs bare at the boy. I'm ready to take my anger out on anyone, friend or foe. I stalk towards him. No one's my friend, I'm all alone.

He takes a step back. "It's me, Todoroki! Get ahold of yourself!"

Shoto?

I grit my fangs at myself, clawing at the ground to keep myself from attacking him despite the rage instinct telling me to attack. It hurts to fight, but I need to protect him. He can't turn out like her.

"I believe in you, (Y/n)! I know you can fight it!"

Another piercing howl screeches out of my mouth, overwhelming my head with painfully conflicting emotions.

"Try to breathe." Shoto's voice calms down. "Relax and breathe."

I loosen my tightened jaw and fists, smoke starting to come out of my nose in grunts. I imagine it being my anger escaping out of me. Feeling myself deflate, despair sets back in. I almost hurt him. I crouch down as my body shrinks back to normal, hugging my knees to my chest. I'm physically and mentally burnt out, too numb to feel my emotions but I know they're still there.

Shoto approaches me, slipping his oversized denim jacket over my naked form. "Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I should be asking you that," I sigh, too tired to get up. The wind brushes my skin and I clutch the jacket closed, slipping my arms through the sleeves. "I almost attacked you, I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, kneeling down in front of me. "It's fine. Why are you out here alone anyway?"

"I...saw something. And I just took off running and I got here." I rub my temples with my hand to ease an oncoming headache. "Things just got overwhelming, but I'm okay now."

Shoto's mouth sets into a line. "You're not okay. You haven't turned into a wolf since you were eight, not even in training. You must have been extremely distressed."

I shrink into myself. "I don't want to talk about it..."

His bi-colored eyes rest on me, but he doesn't push the matter further. "You look exhausted, let me carry you." He squats down in front of me. "Get on my back."

I'm happy he's much bigger than me, his jacket manages to cover everything down mid-thigh even while I'm on his back. My arms hang loosely from his shoulders as he hikes up the hill and back to the main road. It seems I ended up in a park near the town. The streetlamps light the sidewalk, people staring at us as we walk by, but I'm too tired to care.

"Do you think it would calm you down to visit your parents?" Todoroki asks modestly. "Or maybe you can go get some clothes-"

"My parents won't want to see me, let's just go back to school," I interject feebly. A fresh set of tears threaten to fill my eyes.

He doesn't question it, continuing to walk as his gentle rocking pace persists.

"I'm surprised you aren't running away from me," I mumble as we reach the road going up the mountain to UA. "I almost killed you."

"I know you wouldn't, I have faith in you."

I close my eyes, leaning against the side of his head. "I'm so ashamed you had to see me like that. I probably looked like a monster."

"Aside from the danger you posed in the moment, I think you looked...majestic."

My eyes fly open and I tense, waiting for him to elaborate. How could he possibly think that about me?

"Your fur matches the gray of your hair, gleaming in the moonlight. It looked soft enough to touch, all the way down to your tail. But your ice blue eyes were my favorite. Once you calmed down, they were practically glowing. I'd like to see you like that more often, once you've trained enough of course."

My heart quickens at his compliments, heat rushing to my cheeks. "Thank you, Sh-Shoto. Though, I don't know when exactly I'll even get to that point."

He's silent for a moment, his steady rhythm continuing up the path. "I've known you for a while, (Y/n), since we were younger. I know I've never been much help with you and people teasing you for being weak, but I want you to know that you're not weak. Obviously, you have a lot of emotional baggage with your family, and it's trickled into your own inner demons. You should know that you're strong for dealing with it on your own all this time, but you should find family elsewhere. I know you're stuck, but make your own family of people you care about, and - when you're ready - confide in them about your problems, they'll be there to help you. I'm here to help you."

Tears silently roll down my cheek, but I don't want to wipe them and call attention to it, so I rest my chin on his shoulder. "Do you think...my quirk is good, Shoto?"

"Of course I do," he answers without missing a beat. "It's your's to use as you wish. I know you'll use it to become a great hero someday." His footsteps stop and he gently puts me down to face me. "You're a good person, (Y/n). Your quirk is an extension of yourself, and I know you'll use it for the benefit of others, even if you've probably made mistakes in the past." His thumbs gently rub the wetness from my face. "And nobody should tell you otherwise."

I lean into his touch, my eyes flying open when he presses his lips to my forehead. His mismatched eyes bore into mine, glistening under the dim lights of the streetlamps and the moon. My heart pounds at the amount of pure affection he's showering me with, it makes me want to cry even more.

"I'll be there to support you every step of the way."

#todoroki x reader #todoroki angst #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki shouto #gender neutral reader #comfort #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #request #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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queermediastudies · 3 years

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Putting the “Camp” Back in “Conversion Camp”

How But I’m a Cheerleader (2000) Makes a Comedy Out Of Conversion Therapy (And Whether or Not it Should)

Jamie Babbit’s cult classic, But I’m a Cheerleader (2000) paints a satirical portrait of what most queer youth fear most, conversion therapy. The titular cheerleader, Megan (Natasha Lyonne) is your typical all-American good girl. She goes to church, she never drinks, and she is even dating the high school football star. She is the kind of daughter that white, middle-class Americans dream of having, with one glaring exception. Megan is a lesbian. With the help of the self proclaimed “ex-gay” counselor Mike (RuPaul), her family and friends stage an intervention before shoving her off to True Directions, a conversion camp run by Mary Brown (Cathy Moriarty). Once there, she realizes that she is in fact a lesbian, one who is in love with her fellow camper, Graham (Clea Duvall).

The film is hilariously over the top, hence it’s description as a camp classic. Babbit uses exaggerated gender roles to illustrate the intersection between gender performativity and sexuality. Unfortunately this decision to poke fun at heteronormative stereotypes come at a cost. Even the gay characters are uncomfortable stereotypes, and the film ignores any questions of intersectionality. Moreover, Babbit does not always handle the horrors of conversion therapy with the kind of tact and grace such a subject demands. Essentially, while the film attempts to show the ridiculousness of gay conversion, its use of stereotypes and one-dimensional characters lashes back to harm the very people Babbit is speaking on behalf of.

One of the most easily recognizable problems with But I’m a Cheerleader is its overwhelming whiteness. There are all of four characters of color, and only one of those characters is a woman. Jan (Katrina Philips), the one woman of color, is treated terribly in the film. She shows up with a unibrow, dark mustache, shaved head, and baggy clothes. When she introduces herself, she smiles and says, “I’m Jan, and I’m a softball player, and I’m a homosexual” (00:14:36). Essentially, Jan is a lot of outdated stereotypes about lesbians put into one character. The twist, though, is that Jan is actually straight.

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This is a good example of how Babbit attempts to tell an important message, but she fails to see the harm she causes while doing it. Jan’s character is essentially Megan’s foil. She is everything a “dyke” is supposed to be, except that she is not attracted to girls. Megan, on the other hand is a lesbian that completely defies all of the stereotypes that Jan encompasses. Both women are meant to discourage our tendency to make assumptions based on appearance. While that is a wonderful message, the problem is that Jan is the only woman of color. There is a definite lack of positive representation for masculine women of color, so there is nothing inherently wrong with having a black, butch character. However, black women are often portrayed as more masculine than white women in both fiction and non-fiction. One need only look at the conversations the media has had about Serena Williams or the New Jersey Four to see how black women are ascribed a level of masculinity that white women are not. In the film, this is exacerbated by the consistent assertion that Jan is ugly, which is never challenged by any of the characters. The motive behind Jan’s character was excellent, but it is clear that the consequences were not thought out. Babbit could have avoided the problematic elements of her character by adding in more women of color, giving the masculine stereotypes to a white character, or by having a conversation about how her blackness and dark facial hair affected how she was treated. Instead, the meaning of Jan’s character is one-dimensional, and she comes off as the butt of the joke rather than the harbinger of an important message.

Jan is not the only character wrought with gay stereotypes. Andre (Douglas Spain) is the most stereotypically gay man in the film. Whether by coincidence or not, he is also a person of color. Regardless, his character is so stereotypical it is almost offensive. The boys are taught to play football, chop wood, and fix cars in the hopes that heteronormative activities will straighten them out, so to speak. Andre fails miserably at all of these tasks, which, again, is fine in concept. What is offensive is the way he flails about and shrieks in a way that is so unnatural it plays out like a bigot’s idea of what a gay man is really like.

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There are other issues of intersectionality and representation that are not quite so garishly offensive. For example, Joel (Joel Michaely) is Jewish, and very devoutly so considering he is never seen with his yarmulke. The True Directions programs, however, is very Christian-oriented. This tension between the two religions is never addressed, and that is truly a shame. Moreover, race is not mentioned once. As previously mentioned, there are horrendously few characters of color. Even worse, however, is the fact that not one of them has a storyline that acknowledges the difficulties of being a gay person of color. The film is a comedy, so no one should expect an especially fruitful in depth analysis, but there is not even one or two off handed jokes about it. The fact of the matter is that the characters of color are not fully realized people. They are surface level representations that rattle off jokes. It should be acknowledged that pretty much all of the characters have this shallow level of development (such is the price one pays when creating a satire that makes such liberal use of stereotypes), but that is no excuse for not acknowledging how race plays a factor in homophobia and gender norms. Much of the movie is centered around learning how to “act straight”, but performances of gender and sexuality shift when different identities come into play. Harris and Holman Jones explain how intersectional performances play into feeling like a minority, “In “feeling queer,” racialized subjects intersect with religious, gendered and sexualized minoritarian subjects to “do” minoritarianism differently” (Harris and Holman Jones, 2017, p.574). In a film that is all about acting out the roles society demands, ignoring how people of color are expected to perform their minoriatarianism does an injustice to the topic at hand.

There is also a good bit of homonormativity, a concept that describes the push for queer people to fulfill heteronormative roles even in gay relationships. The three same sex couples we see in the film follow the general idea that one person in the relationship should be more feminine and the other more masculine, though some couples embody this concept more than others. Dolph (Dante Basco) and Clayton (Kip Pardue) are the couple that fit this mold the least, but one there are remnants of it in their relationship. Dolph is on the varsity football team, and Clayton is generally more demure and submissive. Unlike Dolph and Clayton, Graham and Megan fulfill their homonormative roles with a good amount of clarity. Graham is by no means butch, but she is more masculine than she is feminine, at least by society’s standards. She has short hair, she never wears skirts, and she has a tendency toward profanity and vulgarity. Megan, on the other hand, is, well, a cheerleader. She only wears skirts, she wears her hair long, and she spends most of the moving gasping at any mention of sex. Finally, there is the old gay couple, Lloyd (Wesley Mann) and Larry (Richard Moll) who are “ex-ex-gays” as the film calls them. Once again we see the more feminine half of the couple, Lloyd, performing typically feminine activities like setting up dinner and getting in touch with his emotions. Larry, on the other hand, is a curt, large, bearded man who is quick to anger. The two could easily fit in to any heterosexual sitcom.

While domesticity is the goal for many queer couples, the film ventures into what Duggan (2002) calls, “equality politics,” (p. 44). Essentially, it is the trap that members of the gay community where they ask the powers that be for marriage and military equality. After that, they feel that there is nothing left to do, so they promise to depoliticize gay culture. Duggan describes them best when she writes, “These organizations, activists, and writers, promote ‘color-blind’ anti-affirmative action racial politics, conservative-libertarian ‘equality feminism,’ and gay ‘normality,’” (Duggan, 2002, p. 44). In it’s failure to acknowledge race and the enforcement of heterosexual roles onto gay characters, the film certainly demonstrates these equality politics and a message in favor of homonormativity.

Perhaps the most difficult to address issue with the film is the premise itself. It begs the question: should conversion therapy be used for comedy? Moreover, questions of how to do that respectfully arise, and, frankly, there were several instances where Babbit failed to do so. Babbit’s own history is important in understanding why she created a comedy about conversion therapy. She herself is a lesbian, and her mother worked at New Directions, a rehabilitation center for teens and young adults. Obviously, the name of the conversion camp, true directions, is a play on New Directions, and Babbit further explains the connection between her mother's career and But I’m a Cheerleader in an interview with Wheeler Winston Dixon. “So I'd always wanted to do a comedy about growing up in rehab, and the absurdity of that atmosphere. But I didn't want to make fun of twelve-step programs for alcoholism and drugs, because they really help people, but when you turn it into Homosexuals Anonymous, then I felt that was a situation I could have fun with” (Dixon, 2015, p. 2). Babbit likely felt that conversion therapy would be a harmless target because making fun of the programs and their leaders is not damaging to anyone. However, as we have seen with Jan and Andre, the queer community was not spared from the ridicule. Moreover, while belittling the programs themselves, Babbit made light of some truly traumatizing experiences. For instance, the teens are given electric wands, which they must use to shock themselves when they have “unnatural” thoughts. Pain-based aversion therapy is a very real, traumatizing experience that too many people have had to face. But I’m a Cheerleader makes a mockery of it by using it for a number of sex jokes and showing that it does not hurt that bad. Graham playfully shocks Megan with it, eliciting a yelp, but not much else. Another girl in the program, Sinead (Katherine Towne), proclaims that she likes pain. She is then shown in multiple scenes using the electricity as a masturbatory tool. There may be arguments in favor of this detail, perhaps that Babbit was trying to show how pain can be reclaimed and used for pleasure, but I personally find it tasteless. It is especially questionable since Babbit herself has never gone through that trauma. When creating gallows humor, one must examine if they are on the gallows or a member of the crowd. A person on the gallows who laughs is using humor to cope. A person in the crowd who laughs at the man getting hanged is simply cruel. It seems that Babbit believes that she, having experienced lesbianism, has just as much of a right to stories of conversion therapy as someone who actually experienced it. She does not. This is not to say that the premise of this film is off limits. Babbit simply should have been more careful in how she portrayed the horrors of conversion therapy.

But I’m a Cheerleader has the difficult job of being a breakout text. Cavalcante explains that a breakout text accomplishes three things, “ Breakout texts also generate three definitive breaks: (a) a break into the cultural main-stream, (b) a break with historical representational paradigms, and (c) a breaking into the every day lives of the audiences they purport to represent,” (Cavalcante, 2017, p. 2). It may have not been hugely successful, but it was popular enough to make its way into straight communities. Moreover, it breaks plenty of ideas of historic representation. Finally, it made its way into gay communities, and it has continued to live comfortably within them. This is why we need to be so hard on the film. As with anything that may be the foundation for someone’s knowledge about a topic (i.e. homosexuality, conversion therapy, gender non conforming heterosexuals, etc.) there is a responsibility to provide quality representations. Babbit sometimes fails to do so, and if that those failures are not examined critically, then harmful information will be mindlessly spread around.

As a pansexual woman, I am always looking for content that portrays strong, sapphic characters. I am also always on the fence about using tragedies to create humor. I am stuck between knowing that some people use humor to cope with trauma and wondering if people should be laughing at atrocities. That is what drew me to But I’m a Cheerleader. I enjoyed the film, in spite of its flaws, but I do have to say I was a bit hurt and disappointed. I am Latinx, and I have been teased about my dark facial hair in the past. Hearing Jan get torn into for her unibrow and mustache while the pretty, white women around her did nothing was really upsetting. Moreover, as someone who is undecided about particularly dark humor, I really do feel that Babbit was tactless in her making of this film. Still, there were elements that I truly loved. As mentioned in the title and the introduction, this film is beautifully camp. The 1950′s aesthetic that the straight people emulate obscures the setting of the film, and the garish colors tell a story all on their own. The gay men are forced to wear bright blue, and the lesbians are forced to wear pink. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, outside of the program wears brown, obscuring their own identities and showing just how they all fit in together. The set design is also used in a really stunning way. Every once in a while something, typically something that represents sex or genitalia, is placed in the background to remind viewers that the sexuality of the participants will never be erased.

When it comes down to it, But I’m a Cheerleader has heart, and it has a great message. It is immensely funny, and the characters are shallow but lovable. The film’s best attribute is that it shows that anyone can be gay or straight, regardless of our assumptions based on how well they perform gender norms. The criticism shown above should not discourage anyone from watching the film. Rather, it should encourage people to watch it while being able to recognize and accept the ways in which it can be hurtful. It can have harmful stereotypes, unhelpful ideologies, and tactless jokes, but it also has love, bite, and an abundance of humor.

References:

Cavalcante, A. (2017). Breaking Into Transgender Life: Transgender Audiences' Experiences With “First of Its Kind” Visibility in Popular Media. Communication, Culture & Critique, 10(3), 538-555. doi:10.1111/cccr.12165

Dixon, W. W. (2015). An Interview With Jamie Babbit. Post Script, 34(2).

Duggan, L. (2003). Equality, Inc. In The Twilight of Equality? Neoliberism, Cultural Politics and the Attack on Democracy (pp. 43-66). Boston: Beacon Press.

Harris, A., & Holman Jones, S. (2017). Feeling Fear, Feeling Queer: The Peril and Potential of Queer Terror. Qualitative Inquiry, 23(7), 561-568. doi:10.1177/1077800417718304

#QueerMedia #intersectionality #homonormativity #breakout text #But I'm a Cheerleader #Natasha Lyonne #Dante Basco #homophobia #conversion therapy #camp

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chibivesicle · 4 years

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Golden Kamuy chapters 251 and 252 - rumble in the brewhouse - continued

Chapter 252 starts off with Sugimoto in an even worse position as Nikaido screams and Koito attacks from the side with his saber. And Nikaido certainly has murder eyes.

The look of surprise by Sugimoto is one where he needs to stop thinking that all fights are one and one. He’s lucky that he ducks low enough that instead of Koito cutting him down with the saber, he cuts into a beer storage barrel and the beer squirts out hitting Koito square in the face. Nikaido fires and Asirpa jumps in front of him to be a shield from Nikaido. Oh Asirpa, you can’t use your status as the key to the gold forever. Plus, Nikaido’s not the type of character to care that she’s an ‘innocent’. I think Asirpa may have gotten ahead of herself thinking that she alone can use her status to be untouchable.

Of course Sugimoto has done a 180 from a few chapters ago. He was ordering Asirpa to stand in the shadows so that Ogata couldn’t target and kill her, but if she’ll take a bullet for him, it is okay. Yeeeeeaaaaaahhhh. Granted, Asirpa has the level of screentones that Hijikata can produce, but her innocence will fail at some point.

Poor Tsukishima has to stop Nikaido. Really, did anyone not realize that Kikuta, Tsukishima and Koito really are an ineffective small group with Nikaido being unstable and Usami being unpredictable. Koito takes this chance to attack Sugimoto again and even prevents him from aiming as Sugimoto fires his gun off to the side. Unfortunately, Koito isn’t great at hand to hand combat nor does he have the full amount of anger/tenacity that Sugimoto has so he’s able to tackle him and headbutt Koito.

Meanwhile, poor Tsukishima is babysitting Nikaido while Asirpa just watches using her presence as leverage on Tsukishima. All of this action though is perfect as Kikuta hasn’t made his presence known. I’m a huge fan of Kikuta (or Roger as a few of us call him due to his resemblance to Roger Moore) and he’s put himself in the perfect position for his specialty, close range rapid fire attacks. Revolvers aimed and at ready we even get the view from the barrel of his gun, a clean shot at Sugimoto.

Ushiyama then looks towards something, perhaps Kikuta and we see movement lines indicating he’s doing something quickly. We get our answer as the next page shows him pushing the stacked beer barrels and he’s able to knock Kikuta over as his footing is lost with the shifting barrels.

This then leads to a small beer tsunami that catches most of our characters in the wave. Koito has recovered quickly hand has a hand on Sugimoto with his saber while Sugimoto’s bayonet is up as they both stare at the breaking barrels and the beer that is about to cover them. Asirpa is able to escape by climbing on the barrels but Nikaido and Tsukishima also get drenched.

Noda makes a full page dedicated to Koito and Sugimoto almost swimming in beer. Clearly, this is for comic relief in the middle of a tense situation, and I meanwhile can’t help but think about how sticky everyone is and having to wash out their uniforms is going to suck. Laundry needs to happen.

The beer tsunami wave carries the guys along and Shiraishi has to escape it as Tsukishima, Sugimoto and Nikaido all end up in a more mechanical looking room. Koito appears to be still in the storage room with the barrels.

Nikaido tries to fight Sugimoto but falls over and it appears that Tsukishima might be the least drunk as he manages to at least hit Sugimoto, and takes down his comment that he can take them because he’s ‘imm-’. Good job Tsukishima, show Sugimoto that he’s not the boss and they both get swept further away.

Meanwhile, Koito, the bon-bon that he is, is plastered as he makes one of his high pitched screams on the floor. I’d say despite being the largest, he’s the lightweight of the group. And we never have seen him drink in the manga so far. I wonder if Koito isn’t much of a drinker as we’ve only see him drink tea as far as I can recall off the top of my head. I think Koito is a dainty drinker.

While drunken chaos unfolds, Kikuta grabs Asirpa and verbally says he’s secured her. Is this to Tsukishima and Koito? Ariko? Himself because he’s that damn good?

Asirpa won’t go down with out a fight and she manages to get one of her poison tip arrows in his nose to bring him to a rapid halt. Of course this entire exchange does not happen alone as Ogata is looking at them with the binoculars from the fire watchtower. He seems quite interested and he even pulls the binoculars away as if he’s thinking about something. The panel then shows Asirpa pointing her bow and arrow at Kikuta in a very non-threatening pose, his hands down and empty.

This makes the fifth time that Asirpa has drawn her bow at a human, as the fourth time was when she shot Ogata in the eye. I wonder if Ogata is having some sort of out of body experience watching Kikuta try to reason with Asirpa. If only he had the public speaking skills of someone like Kikuta - since he was clearly upset when he couldn’t lie to Asirpa like the rest of the adults can. And it goes back to the fact that he lacks something and stuff doesn’t go well for him etc. etc.

This shows in Kikuta’s confident and relaxed body language. He tries to get her on his side by asking about what happened with the Ainu who were killed.

He knows that her father is linked to it, first being mistaken as a victim of the attack, but in reality hiding behind the Japanese labeled personality of Noppera-bou, not Wilk, the partisan from Karafuto/Sakahlin. It really makes me wonder who originally told Asirpa that her father was killed in the incident. We were never given the information that Wilk died in the attack. Her uncle Makanakkuru, may have been the adult to tell her this, but was he lying because she was a child? Or others knew he was alive like Kiro and they felt it was better for her to not know about this until she was old enough to become involved?

Honestly, I’ve wondered why Asirpa hasn’t been more assertive in the quest for the truth. Yes, she confirmed that Wilk was Noppera-bou at Abashiri and she believed her father didn’t kill them and Sugimoto did eventually tell her that he said he didn’t kill the other Ainu as well. And she then kinda let go of questioning the entire situation.

Which really, with her newfound need to champion the cause of the Ainu, it makes me wonder why she isn’t being more forward with this. She kinda seemed interested when she met Ariko, but hasn’t done as much as I’d expect her to.

Pondering interlude over, Kikuta is trying to negotiate with something that he thinks Asirpa wants, which was not what Ogata tried to do. She seems nervous as she asks him why he’d know this in the first place, so I’d say it implies that she is interested. Kikuta then reveals what we already knew from Ogata back when he was first speaking with Hijikata about the information that Tsurumi learned about the victims. I always read this to imply that Ogata was there as well, but he never says it and instead the Tsurumi examined the stuff. When we learned that Kikuta, Tsukishima and Ogata were a part of Tsurumi’s inner circle of intelligence operatives, it was pretty easy to make the connection that Ogata was indirectly telling Hijikata part of what he saw with Tsukishima and Kikuta there as well.

The action then shows Usami noticing Asirpa and Ogata sees him with a look of disdain. Now that we know that Ogata smacked Usami with a bedpan, we know that Ogata has no love of Usami. Well and that both men have completely opposite personalities.

But of course we see that Usami has made the cardinal sin of most soldiers according to Ogata; he’s abandoned his rifle and is running around with a bayonet. We know by now that bad things happen to those who don’t keep an eye on their rifles!

Kikuta is clearly a very persuasive man and he hits all of the points to convince Asirpa that she should talk to Tsurumi. Since he thinks that knowing what happened to her father would be more important than the gold. This may also be read to mean that upon finding the victims and Wilk, Tsurumi may have talked to him or something critical may have happened.

Could Wilk have requested to Tsurumi to report that he was dead? To create his identity. Both men could have spoken Russian, but Tsukishima and Ogata would have understood things then as well. . . It is clear that Ogata knows more about this along with Kikuta and Tsukishima.

Her nervous face is more than enough to see that Kikuta is making her think about this. Ogata has shifted to aim at her under this observation that she’ll work with Tsurumi.

This means he’s trying to rationalize why shooting Asirpa would strategically be a good idea. She’s the key, she hasn’t told anyone the code and if she died everything was all for naught. But he hesitates. He hesitates because, he knows that Asirpa is innocent and his brain has linked her with Yuusaku. Which leads to the dramatic page of the ‘reappearance’ of Yuusaku. I personally think that Yuusaku is not a ghost, he is the representation of Ogata’s guilt an PTSD in a neat and tidy annoying younger brother package. It is as though whenever he becomes emotionally connected to Asirpa, he begins to pause as he realizes he can’t actually shoot her.

For plot excitement and storytelling purposes, Yuusaku’s ‘ghost’ is linked to Vasily. The first time he appeared was after Ogata defeated Vasily in their insane sniper battle. As he began to fall ill, Asirpa became Yuusaku speaking to him and we get the flashback as to why Yuusaku would ‘haunt’ him and how he has much in common with Asirpa.

This continues as Ogata’s mind keeps connecting the two of them together, especially on the ice floe when it is clear he’s talking to Yuusaku via Asirpa as she’s just confused about his weird monologue. I’m beginning to wonder if the fact that Ogata didn’t kill Vasily also lead to the activation of Yuusaku since it is a time where Ogata didn’t kill his opponent, only injuring him enough to escape to safety.

Whatever mechanism you may think, the point is that concept of Yuusaku standing next to Ogata, sending him some sort of message about why shooting Asirpa would be a bad thing, causes him to jump back in surprise.

This then dramatically saves his life as he’s no longer in a position to aim and instead a single shot hits the chamber that rotates to release the empty shell. At this point in the chapter it is unclear if the damage has prevented Ogata from sniping or if he’ll be able to make do.

He turns in one of his most cat-like fashions as a stray hair hangs and he’s got that ‘huh’ look any cat has when you poked them and they were not impressed.

Vasily looks focused but sweats a little as he likely knows his shot was unsuccessful. Ogata then remarks again, that it was the work of an experienced sniper, the same phrase he used when they encountered Vasily at the Russian border.

I have to admit I was so disappointed that Vasily has gone for the straight up try to shoot Ogata game. Really dude? You just quested from Russia, to Japan, to Hokkaido to then kill Ogata without him realizing they were playing lynx versus snow leopard games? Or is Vasily not quite as skilled as Ogata at hitting a man accurately from a distance? But we know he is.

This leads me to ask, “What is the purpose of Vasily?” is he a pretty Slavic boy who has an unhealthy obsession with Ogata to keep him moving and prevent him from shooting Asirpa? I don’t think Vasily gives a damn about Asirpa, it was clear in Karafuto he just wanted Ogata to come out and play, nya! Or maybe come out and play, мяу! would be more accurate.

Sugimoto thinks Vasily is an Ogata repellent, but he’s never communicated effectively with Vasily and it is clear Vasily has his own goal. I really hope Ogata at least questioned Vasily in Russian after he injured him so that it could reveal something more helpful. Recall, here in chapter 161 is off to get the answers from them, e.g. the Russian border guards.

It would be too simple if Vasily is just a vehicle for Ogata’s Yuusaku/Asirpa guilt to manifest itself and move his character progression along.

Anyhoo, the chapter ends with the tagline “From Russia with Death” a pun on the Bond movie “From Russia with Love”.

If Vasily did damage Ogata’s current type 38, he’s in a reply of what happened the last time he went up against Vasily. Mosin-nagant and a nice warm ushanka versus Ogata, in his wool uniform and the old Berndan Model 1881, with a single shot, as when he used it, he had the extra ammunition held between his fingers here:

A detail that still makes me tingle with excitement that Noda discussed this with Tanigaki and Nihei and Ogata’s the one who does it like a good rifle expert that he is. I look forward to Ogata out sniping Vasily. Or at least outsmarting him.

Really, chapters 251 and 252 show how various characters act in stressful situations. Sugimoto, Tsukishima, Koito and Nikaido are a mess, Shiraishi is trying to avoid shit if possible, Asirpa seems to be trying to leverage her savior complex a bit too much for my liking and Ogata is being haunted by his previous coping mechanisms to ignore that he might actually be human. Though some evidence indicates he may be a cat.

All of this has me excited for 253 and more Ogata action, because I’m biased.

#golden kamuy #golden kamuy meta #ogata hyakunosuke #vasily #asirpa #sugimoto saichi #Shiraishi Yoshitake #tsukishima hajime #koito otonoshin #warrant officer kikuta #nikaido #ushiyama tatsuma #Usami Tokishige #Hanazawa Yuusaku

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silver-wield · 4 years

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(1/3) Agreeing with the 🌼 anon. That blogger didn’t use “woman empowerment” but she did use “female assertiveness”, and she’s actually an abuse victim herself. Only problem is that she seems to invalidate people who’ve had different abusive/uncomfortable and toxic experiences with behaviors like Aerith’s. I think she raises some good points about the use of the word “abusive” in fandom spaces, but her assumption that the people speaking out haven’t suffered abuse is what makes me critical.

(2/3) She’s recently talked about how Tifa forced Cloud to do things as well. I’m of the opinion that the two situations are largely different for a variety of reasons. Cloud never outright tells Tifa “no” and has it ignored. His grumping is often just a front. With Aerith, on the other hand, he’s consistently uncomfortable. Forced to take little to no pay for his work, faced with people who don’t take no for an answer, and is prevented from leaving by Aerith intercepting him.

(3/3) I said “prevented from leaving” when I should have said she exhibited some truly stalkerish behavior and jumped out at him in the darkness from an alley as he was trying to go. It’s not exactly shining behavior on her part. Especially when she then delays his leaving even more. I think it’s strange to grasp for a lot of people because Cloud doesn’t put up more of a fight, but I also think some manipulation tactics were put into play.

(4/5) Anon who agrees with 🌼 again. The issue has been bothering me a bit because she does raise a good point: why doesn’t Cloud ask anybody else for help? I was wondering if you could answer that question (no pressure, of course). What bothers me the most is that this blogger keeps assuming people are mentioning this as a way to justify hating a character. She implies that the people speaking up haven’t experienced abuse and that they only know it as an abstract concept.

(5/5) That’s incredibly damaging to a lot of people. I myself liked Aerith as a character once I got to know her better, and actually ship her with Cloud (I’m a multishipper), but there’s no ignoring that Aerith acts very strange in chapter 8, at the detriment of Cloud’s consent, comfort, time, and stability. The fact that so many people have spoken up about this isn’t a coincidence. People with bad experiences are coming out and getting disregarded. That shouldn’t be happening.

Apologies for the long post 😅 I hope you don’t mind. I’m pretty impassioned about this issue, honestly. Because I do actually agree with the blogger on multiple points, but find that she seems to keep missing the issue and hurting other people in the fandom. Cloud doesn’t need to be held at gunpoint to be put into an uncomfortable (and possibly dangerous - he doesn’t know Aerith all that well) situation. She’s right about how certain words are misused, but she’s dodging the heart of the issue.

Honestly, it’s exhausting how these people take concepts they don’t understand and slap them on shit that’s the exact opposite like if they scream they’re right enough people will believe them.

It takes as long as your browser and typing speed to look shit up.

Assertiveness is the quality of being self-assured and confident without being aggressive.

WITHOUT.

Assertiveness is not gender oriented, so what the fuck even are people blabbing about now? Female assertiveness? Gimme a break. Being assertive is a character trait. Some people are naturally assertive, while others need to learn how to stand up for themselves. Like a particular spiky haired protagonist.

Aerith’s not assertive, she’s pushy because she doesn’t respect Cloud, and respect is part of being assertive. Being able to get your point across without being a douchebag about it. Like how certain people are constantly screaming how they’re right and dragging everyone else through the mud. Those people aren’t assertive because assertiveness is a positive trait. It implies confidence in oneself and one’s ideals. There’s no need to be a dick to people because they believe in their viewpoint and see no reason to pull others down.

Ex: I’m both assertive and can be a dick because one of my other traits is petty bench, but on the whole I’m assertive without activating that petty bench mode until people piss me off because I operate on a respect and respect alike policy. If people come to me and give me shit then they shouldn’t expect flowers in exchange.

Back to the thing.

Aerith talks over Cloud, ignores his opinion, bullies him into doing what she wants “this is the plan, Cloud, and you’ll learn to love it” and deliberately ignores the fact he says no. That line creeps me tf out and it obviously does Cloud too because he literally steps up to her and says “what?” in an aggressive voice. Cloud has a limit and Aerith was very close to going over it.

Cloud. said. no.

And guess what? Cloud’s not assertive. Not for himself. Not until he’s pushed beyond normal means.

He couldn’t say no to Jessie, despite not being happy about the job. He couldn’t refuse to help Aerith, despite not wanting to fight Reno -- he knows how tough Turks are, he’s not an idiot -- and then he got compensated with a date that made Reno call him a weirdo (and he never accepted it either, so Aerith’s yet another person in sector 5 who took him for a fool). So, yeah, no goddamn wonder Cloud’s reluctant to argue when Aerith could ruin his hard won reputation inside of an afternoon. He says “That wasn’t the deal” when she tries to force him to stay, but can’t keep insisting when that doesn’t work. Because Cloud is shy af. Were people not paying attention to the promise? To CC? That’s real Cloud and real Cloud makes up the core of soldier Cloud. He’s a shy, awkward boy who could barely speak to his crush. He didn’t get along with others because he’s introverted. He’s quiet and reserved. Just because he kicks all the ass doesn’t change that about him.

Cloud isn’t a talker. Everyone knows this about him. It’s a canon fact. So, not being a talker, being reserved, quiet, introverted, unable to speak up for his own sake when he wants something that together showcases someone who isn’t good at standing up for himself. He tries. He tried so hard to refuse Aerith, but he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He either got lost trying to get home or he put up with the pushy girl who keeps making him do shit he doesn’t want to. He sighs and pulls faces and doesn’t look happy. He wants to go home. He still said no several times to her whenever she tried to waylay him further. She didn’t care about what he wanted. That doesn’t make her assertive. It makes her the asshole because she has no respect for him.

People think that because he called Jessie desperate that it meant he wanted to stay with Aerith. That he’s capable of speaking up for himself. Nope With Jessie, he’d had a long ass day of work and longer ass night, been excluded by both Barret and the Avalanche trio, made to break into Jessie’s house (which doesn’t sit well with Cloud’s actual moral compass), then did a bunch more difficult shit fighting off Shinra and then literally jumped off the plate. Okay?! Cloud had a long ass day and it was like 4am by that point and he was tired. Anybody tries to say after that much work they’d be nice Imma call them a goddamn liar.

Aerith refused to tell Cloud the way home, absolutely prevented him from leaving, made him do a bunch of work for shitty or no pay, belittled and insulted him, then barricaded the hallway so he couldn’t escape and stalked him to the exit when he escaped. He literally pulls a yessh face after reluctantly agreeing to let her show him how to get home. And then when they get there she withholds vital information for how he can actually get into the sector (or did people not notice him saying the giant gate was shut too?) until she gets what she wants out of him. And he sighs. Again. He has no say in anything because Aerith doesn’t listen to anyone but herself. The only reason he starts being nice to her is she tries to get info about Zack out of him and Cloud’s a nice guy who feels sorry for her. He knows he’ll never see her after this (or did people also misinterpret that reaction to Elmyra? Probably, since the only person he’d want to make a normal life with is Tifa, so being told he can’t is gonna get a reaction duh), so why be a dick to a girl who’s obviously upset about her boyfriend? Literally the second he saw Tifa -- barely even saw her because he knew that was her from the back of her head, her shoulder and hands -- he ran to her. He forgot Aerith even existed. But, sure, please do focus on the fact that he respected Tifa enough to do as she asked after an entire goddamn day of being disrespected by someone else. He’s not gonna treat Tifa the way he was just treated by Aerith. He actually cares about her.

And what did they think the message in Stand Up was? It’s not about dancing ffs. Andrea’s telling Cloud not to be afraid to be himself. That means speaking up for himself too, not about being real Cloud, which is a message he wouldn’t even understand at that point because he’s soldier Cloud and not aware of real Cloud. Andrea figured out Cloud right away. He saw a boy who’d do anything for the woman he loved, even let himself get pressured into something he’d be embarrassed by. That’s what stand up means in relation to Cloud.

Tifa never forced Cloud to do anything. She asked him to go with her to collect filter money, then immediately backtracked when she realised she’d have to pay him for that too. Cloud agreed and smiled at her. She also let him keep all of the money they got, which in the end gave him a grand total of 2150 gil, not the 2000 he was promised, so they overpaid him to make up for the delay.

She also asked him after the first quest “what do you want to do now?” and he said “Dunno,” so she made a suggestion. There’s no force behind that. He could refuse and go take a nap or something. She spent the day getting him work and helping him with that work, so much so that he was fully prepared to split the fee with her. Unlike with Aerith.

I could go on and on about this because I’ve gone over that chapter so many times. I don’t just replay odd chapters to get stuff, I replay the entire game, so I get to see the development of everything as it unfolds and see those connections between things that I overlooked before because I was too busy looking at something else. People think because they spend umpteen hours in sector 5 that Cloud did too. Nope. Cloud was there for around 11 hours before he left.

It was morning when he woke and since in December the sun would rise around 8am, that’s the earlier possible time that it could’ve been. In fact it could’ve been later. Cloud and Aerith spend several hours getting back to the sector so that it’s close to dinner time when they arrive. She then makes him do odd jobs for a few hours and then they eat and Cloud has a nap -- because he literally has a dream. You know, that thing people keep clinging to. He can’t dream if he’s not asleep. When he wakes up it’s dark and since it’s past dinner time, it’s around 6-7pm when he escapes and makes for the sector 6 exit. And that’s chapter 8.

Chapter 9 takes around 4 hours for them to complete. They spend a couple of hours fighting in the coliseum, then Cloud messes around while Aerith’s getting ready, which from Madam M seems to take around an hour. That leaves the rest of the time for the honey bee inn show, getting Cloud changed, walking to Corneo’s and the bit in the dungeon. Then they get dropped in the sewers.

Do you see how little time Cloud actually spent with Aerith? He’s known her for like 15 hours total before he reunites with Tifa. And people think he fell in love with her? Ew. Even Disney knew better than to try that.

#ship war #for common sense #long post #for the cinnamon roll

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dragonofdarknesschaos · 5 years

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Chase Young Can’t Read

Okay, but do we ever actually SEE Chase reading? He’s never shown writing.

I know he’s sown looking at Evil Housekeeping in “Judging Omi,” but there is no proof that he was actually reading the magazine. Magazines have pictures too, and who’s to say that Chase doesn’t just subscribe for the pretty pictures? Have you SEEN the man’s lair?!

Further proof of Chase’s illiteracy is in how Chase’s underlings convey messages to him. One of Chase’s fallen warriors is a Gaelic werewolf that can transform into a crow and play back or show what it has seen and heard from its’ eyes. In “Hannibal’s Revenge,” “Omitown,” “Oil in the Family,” and others the crow is shown whispering to Chase or sharing a look. Another scene shows the crow flying back to Chase’s lair, transforming to a warrior, and presumably telling Chase the information it gathered in person off screen, before walking out of the throne room on screen.

It’s one thing to be a spy and not leave a paper trail, but it’s another thing entirely to be a spy and leave your post to convey information Most spys only leave their posts if their cover is blown, the information they have gathered is too sensitive to document on paper, their assignment has been completed, or a mix of all three. The fact that the crow repeatedly goes back to Chase to report directly for all messages, no matter how trivial is a bit suspect. About 99% of the time the Monks do not even notice that the crow is watching them. Why fly off to report to Chase that they’re on the move? “Phoning in” and reporting remotely would make more sense to continue the mission of watching the Monks. The fact that time and again the crow is shown watching the Monks means that this is a recurring, if not ongoing, mission of some importance.

What the Food Tells Us

“But what about the recipe for Lao Mang Long soup?” You ask. Yes, the recipe is written down in a book about Chase, but that doesn’t mean Chase ever wrote or read the book (though he is vain enough he at least knows it exists). Canon doesn’t go into it deeply enough to form a concrete decision, but Hannibal made the Soup, Chase turned evil and imprisoned Hannibal. Now Chase makes the soup for himself. Chase is never shown reading a recipe--why would he? He’s been making this elixir for the last 1500 years (or more), by now the recipe is routine; Chase has no need to refer back to any written document of the elixir. Or maybe, he could never read a recipe in the first place?

It is unclear if the Lao Mang Long soup ever spoils as evidenced by “Time After Time, part 2″ wherein Omi hides the soup, and then digs it up over 1500 years later, still steaming. But most who work with any kind of food, or food prep, or both, know that dating food and packages is mandatory to know how fresh the products are. Chase is often shown using CANNED soup. If he’s caning the soup himself, why are there no dates? Surely one as methodical as he would want to use the oldest batches first. Without written dates he must have an elaborate system of organization (otherwise it’s like having no soup at all--and Chase says he’s very attached to the soup, as it’s what keeps him forever youthful and pretty [”Master Monk Guan”]).

Chase is making the soup for himself too, so there’s not even a need to list the ingredients on the package. However, there is no written label--there is only a picture of a dragon on the can. While this was done to cinematically highlight the fact that each can contains at least one whole dragon (don’t forget this is a TV show for 6-12 year olds), it then questions why Chase would label his elixir in such a way. Why label your food with a picture of one ingredient instead of writing what the can contains? It would be like labeling lasagna with a picture of just noodles, or a chocolate cake with just a doodle of chocolate chips. Why label food in this way, unless you don’t know how to read or write?

The League of Overcompensating Villains... with Giant Citadels!

Furthermore, much of Chase’s lair has boobie traps and combinations to turn off or activate security systems. There are no number pads, or combination locks, or physical keys of any sort. There are only “super old school” “classic” secret levers, buttons, walls, and compartments for Chase to utilize, like in the regular Showdown of “Master Monk Guan,” how Jack opens the front door to Chase’s lair by pushing a hidden button in “Evil Within,” and the various boobie traps the Monks encounter in “Finding Omi” as well as a hidden Wu safe room. Since Chase is unable to read, an alphanumeric combination or security key is meaningless to him. Physical key holes are too easy to pick and bypass. What better way to cover up your lack of literacy than to use really cool, distracting tricks and illusions? One would have to be really smart to remember all the tricks and hidden items and how to avoid them, right? Or at least that’s the stereotype. This elaborate, over the top method of covering up an apparent “lack” is Chase’s modus operandi and he does it constantly throughout the series.

What does it all mean?

Chase not knowing how to read or write would cast him as a poor person in ancient China, as around 500 AD only the sons of Nobles were educated and learned to read and write. This goes in stark contrast to many who headcanon Chase as the [bastard] son of a nobleman. Coming from a poor, likely farming, family would make the life of a Monk seem like a step up. It could also be indicative that Chase is an orphan. Why strive so hard to achieve and prove your greatness unless you came from nothing?

While the desire to “prove oneself” is universal, it’s usually explored by characters who either have great power and prestige and want to prove themselves worthy of wielding their own power (Marvel’s Thor) or characters who have nothing and want everything because they believe they deserve it in some way (Marvel’s Loki). The only thing Chase knows for certain about his destiny on either the Xiaolin side or the Heylin side is that he will become a great warrior. Joining the Xiaolin Order would have been the first step towards receiving military or battle training through the art of Kung Fu. What he does with that training is up to him.

Can XC Chase Read?

XC Chase is potentially in the same boat as XS Chase. The biggest difference is that in XC, Chase is shown looking at and reacting to a text only status post on Facelook from Jack (”Who Shrunk Master Fung?”). While text-to-speech is a thing, it’s unlikely that Chase fully understands how to operate the tech. Chase dislikes Jack enough that, despite Jack installing the Wifi Chase used to access Facelook, as well as the giant monitor Chase was viewing the status update on, and never adding Jack as a friend, I doubt Chase would have tried to figure out the text-to-speech on his own. Even if Shadow helped him, she is out of the lair at the time of him reading the status, and also temporarily transformed into a bird with Chase’s magic.

There is another scene in “Princess Kaila and the Thousand Layer Mountain” where Chase says that great tales will be written and told about his coming victory against the Xiaolin Order, and perhaps he or the cats can read it. But can the fallen warrior cats even read? Questions for future victorious Chase to answer. Chase is also shown crumpling up a resume Jack hands him in “The Laws of Nature.” If Chase is illiterate it’s just crumpling up a bit of useless trash. However, it also asserts how little Chase cares about Jack’s credentials and achievements.

To summarize, Chase likely cannot read in the XS canon. He goes out of his way to cover up this flaw by having intellectual puzzles as security precautions, has all his underlings report verbally, visually, or both, usually in person, and does not label any of his canned foods with words or numbers, instead only using pictures. His illiteracy is indicative of a life lead by a poor farm boy or orphan who joined the Xiaolin Order as a stepping stone to achieve his destiny of becoming a great warrior. XC Chase is possibly illiterate too, but there isn’t enough evidence either way to confirm or deny this possibility.

TL;DR:

XS Chase can’t read.

XS Chase goes out of his way to cover up this little fact by having intricate boobie traps throughout his lair.

All of Chase’s underlings report to him in person.

Chase doesn’t label any of his canned food with letters or numbers; only pictures.

Only noblemen were able to read and write in 500 AD China, so Chase was likely a farm boy or orphan.

He then joined the Xiaolin Temple as a stepping stone to achieve his destiny of becoming a great warrior.

XC Chase is likely illiterate too, but there are too many inconsistencies to confirm.

Random Headcanons under the cut:

I’m not saying Chase was kicked out of the Xiaolin Order because he couldn’t read, but what if that was literally the only reason?

Please consider dyslexic Chase.

Remember all those various scenes where Jack asks for Chase’s autograph and Chase just glares at Jack, as if the boy genius knows that he, Chase Young, is illiterate and is taunting him for it.

Chase never responding to emails because he literally cannot.

For that matter, why and how does Chase have an email?! Who was Jack messaging?????????

Someone writing a really witty and heartfelt love note to Chase, but he can’t read it.

Chase turning Wuya solidly just to read his mail because she can read for some reason??? IDK?????????

Wuya is shown reading a magazine called “Woman”--likely a parody of Womens Day--but finds it too drab and changes it to “Wuya” (“The Citadel of Doom”).

Even if Wuya is in the same boat as Chase and just “reads” magazines for the pictures, she still formed an opinion about the magazine being “drab” and changed the entire thing. Most people would just get a different magazine.

I guess Wuya took that mag from “drab” to “FAB?” Amirite? XDDD

Okay, but please imagine Jack teaching Chase how to read and write.

Also, Omi trying to teach Chase how to read and write, but he’s really bad at it, and Raimundo steps in to help because he’s got the highest reading comprehension.

The Monks are all shown reading and writing at various points throughout the series, but all are shown writing out their ideas for quests in “Hannibal’s Revenge.”

I believe Dojo said this in XS, but “penmanship wasn’t always a strong suit of the old masters.” Big oof. However, this means that the Temple will teach literacy, so then why didn’t Chase pick it up? (more fuel for dyslexic Chase)

#that other guy I don't tag anymore #analysis #headcanon #Xiaolin Showdown #Xiaolin Chronicles #illiteracy #theory

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curiousartemis · 4 years

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Five Questions for Writers

Thank you for the tag, dearest @tishinada !! ❤

Tagging @silvanils and anyone else who wants to do it!

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

>>>>>>>>>>>

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

This is probably way too obvious, but the OC who’s easiest to write is Casien, and the NPC who’s easiest to write is definitely Ulfric.

Casien is, in fairness, the original character I’ve written the most for. I’ve written three books in his voice, and multiple one-shots. That’s probably well over 400K words. It helps that I love him a great deal, that I have such incredible affection for this character. But it also helps that I’ve mirrored myself in him in many ways. We don’t just physically resemble one another to a certain extent, but he has many of my faults, tendencies, fears, and personality traits. I mean, in fairness, I’m sure he’s an idealized version of myself. But nonetheless.

It’s a similar situation with Ulfric. True, I’ve been writing him from Casien’s point-of-view, but still. I’ve also written a few stories from his point of view, both first and third person. I made Ulfric my age when I first started writing him, and that helped me connect with him. If I gave Casien the hopes and fears of my youth, I gave Ulfric the hopes and fears of my present day self. I know what it’s like to be so tired at the end of the day. I know what it’s like to have so many different demands on your attention, and how that taxes you both mentally, physically, and emotionally. I know what it’s like to live with deep fear and deep regret, and how wonderful it is to regain even the tiniest spark of hope. That’s my Ulfric in a nutshell.

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

I think I have two: #SlowBurn and “opposites attract.”

I like drawing out a relationship. This goes for friendships, too, but I love writing romance even more. I want to see these people truly getting to know one another... learning to admire the little things about one another, realizing they’re eager to see one another again, then feeling maybe a little embarrassed about it. I like to write lots of conversations between the two before they ever become lovers, to show that it’s not just the physical that attracts them to one another, but the mind as well.

“Now be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?”

“For the liveliness of your mind, I did.”

Now that’s the good stuff, right there. 👌

As for opposites attract -- basically a very similar feeling. I love it when a couple might feel initially awkward around one another because of their differences, yet learn they actually have a lot in common, and thus begins the first spark of love. Age differences are particularly adorable to me... probably I look at youth with rose-tinted glasses, but it’s still provides some hilariously befuddled moments for the older partner, and then the younger partner can tease them for being an old fogey. Class differences, too... I’m writing a king and a former servant; I’ll be writing a king and the son of a retired soldier and bard soon. The wealthy person seeing themself in the working class person and vice versa... it’s a moment of simple humanity that always makes my heart stir. Even better if the wealthy/well-placed person can be humbled by the working class person and realize they’ve taken much in their life for granted. But yes, I’d say every one of my couples are some form or other “opposites attract”--wherein they actually realize that they’re very, very similar.

(No wonder Jane Eyre is my favorite novel...)

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

My favorite (not necessarily my “best”) description I’ve written is the wedding scene. I wanted it to be dreamlike, because Casien was quite dazed, and I wanted to show that he sees Ulfric in a way that no one else really does. Ulfric, after all, is 38 years old, a warrior-king who’s had a hard life in many ways. He has a large nose, pale eyes that squint in the sun a little too much, and he has a tendency to glare. But to Casien... he is breathtakingly handsome (spoilers for the end of book 2):

We walked around the back, down the little stone path. There was a pretty sort of garden here, with stone benches and rose trellises and miniature shrines meant for personal reflection. The yard was encompassed by a stone wall, and towards the back of the far wall I could see the tall, main shrine and altar, along with several priests.

But I could barely see them through the crowd. It was small, but the yard was not large, and I had to suddenly stop and try not to shrink at the way they all paused in their conversations and smiled when they saw me. I recognized them, of course, the most important people in Skyrim, for I had spent a good deal of time with them these past few weeks. But my eyes skimmed over most of them, until they settled on two men, and one man in particular.

I noticed that his tunic was a lush, dark red, and that his own boots were new, but I took little further notice of how he was dressed. His hair had been partially pulled back from his face, two little braids on each side—I wondered who had done it for him—Ania, or Hellina, or Una? My heart seemed to stutter, then I walked towards him, and all the while his eyes held mine.

“Hello,” I said, once we were together.

He smiled, the expression small and warm and strangely reverent.

“Hello,” he said.

He reached up, tracing the silver circlet on my brow, then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, as was his wont of late.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured.

I felt myself blush, and smiled.

“So are you,” I said, and I heard a few people chuckle, but his smile only widened ever so slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

That’s tough; I love writing dialogue! 😊 Well, one passage I really loved and was really quite proud of was the one where Casien finally confronted Ulfric about his apparent newfound fear of physical intimacy. You see, in the first few years of their relationship, Casien would have been too nervous or intimidated to broach the subject. But now he has the confidence--both in himself and in his relationship--to ask his husband point blank what’s going on. And because he was assertive and brave enough to do this, he ends up being the one who helps jump start their relationship again. (Spoilers for the middle-end of book 3):

“Yes,” he said, pulling a hand free so that he could lay it over both of mine, as if he were trying to comfort me. “I know. Yet still I cannot help the thought that lingers in my mind: suppose my delusions should return. Suppose in the act of making love, I should be brought back to that wretched state again. And suppose, having you with me again, it should ignite something horrible in me, something I could not—

But I pulled my own hand free and laid it hastily over his mouth, silencing him. He made no move to push my hand away, only looked at me, his eyes sad.

“Don’t,” I said, and I realized I was crying now, sniffing and using my other hand to swipe at the back of my eyes, to stop the evidence from making its appearance. “Don’t say that. Melaran is dead. The Thalmor are all dead. Whoever cast that spell, they’re dead. They can’t hurt us anymore.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Yes, we do,” I insisted, and I’m certain my face looked quite ugly by then. “So, what then? We just stop? We never have sex again? Is that what you want?”

“No…” He looked stricken—it made me feel awful. “Of course not. But I…”

“Make love to me,” I said. I crawled forward, into his lap, wrapping my legs loosely around him. “Please. I miss you. I thought about you, every day and every night, for an entire year. And then you weren’t there when I returned home, and all I could do was think about you again, and…”

I trailed off, a little too embarrassed, even despite my earnestness, to admit to touching myself.

A lot. I had really, really missed him.

His gaze was warm now, and I think he knew what I had almost said. He wrapped his arms around me, and I pressed myself against him a little, and he let out a startled little breath that I’m almost certain was very nearly a moan.

“You aren’t worried about being heard,” he said, lips twitching now, as he reached up to cup my cheek. “My little roebuck has lost all his shyness.”

“I highly doubt that,” I said. “But they all think we’ve been doing it every night anyway…” I paused, resting my hand over his now, linking our fingers together. “Whether through hardship, poor health, broken trust, or sorrow of any kind. It’s in our vows, Ulfric. I said ‘yes,’ and I meant it. It does neither of us any good to wait for something terrible that may never happen.”

His eyes widened when I said this, and I think, somehow, I finally got through to him. His expression softened once again, and he rubbed his thumb gently against my cheek, the gesture a caress.

“My heart,” he murmured, another little smile creeping onto his face. “wiser than any Greybeard.”

“Because I want to have sex with you?” I asked. “I agree. Only an idiot wouldn’t want that.”

He laughed, loud enough, I’m sure, to be heard by the others. But then he looked at me, his expression turning almost cheeky. He hesitated for only a moment more—before finally tilting his face towards mine, nuzzling his nose again my own before brushing our lips together. I sought him out, reaching eagerly for him—he pulled away, smiling, teasing me, even as he shifted so that we could lie down together.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, pressing the words softly against my ear with a kiss, once we were both naked and, despite everything, doing our best to keep quiet.

I smiled, and wrapped my arms around him, and muffled my joy and my pleasure against his skin.

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

A scene I’m really looking forward to is the scene where Linas first meets Vilkas. I can’t even really talk about it because it’s kind of a spoiler. But suffice it to say, Linas won’t realize who he’s talking to. The second scene I really want to write is when he finally does realize who Vilkas is.

They’re another “opposites attract” romance, with Linas being literally wild and illiterate while Vilkas is the quiet, controlled warrior who has a love of literature. Of course, they’ll discover that they’re more alike than different... a pair of introverted artists who find solace in one another.

#writing #meta #fanfiction #ulfrien #vilnas

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the-y-generation · 5 years

Text

Not My Type (Chapter 1)

Summary: “Do you know how you stop a craving? You give in to it.”

When she signed on to be a road manager, she had no idea it was going to be for one of the biggest bands in the world, much less how they were going to turn her life upside down, nor how she was about to flip theirs too. Especially one irritating frequently-late vocalist who knew exactly how charming he could be.

Pairing: Idol!Jimin / Manager!Original Character (I personally haven’t written in “y/n” format, so I just gave the reader a name, but barely even mention it)

Genre/Themes: fluff, angst, friends with benefits, friends to lovers

Status: Ongoing (Masterlist)

She tried not to let it get to her, how they shuffle off in groups and kind of just leave her once they’ve received their instructions.

But it did. It does bother her.

Her first two weeks with BTS hadn’t gone smoothly, to say the least. She was only trained and supervised for a week, then was left to fend for herself. A week to remember everyone’s names, including all staff and crew (as if seven boys weren’t complicated enough), to familiarize herself with allergies and all sorts of preferences, and to get used to moods and personalities.

How does one pretend to swim when you’re actually sinking?

For the most part, the band was nice. From the minute they met her, they were friendly, respectful, and conversational. And on a less important note, (really just a minor, superficial observation), very good-looking.

But they flocked together, already a strong unit, a complete picture, that she couldn’t see how she would ever manage to fit in. They had been at this for close to a decade now; they had little reason to care about her, she figured within a few days.

She didn’t take it personally though, knowing that the awkwardness was part of the package of being new. But still, it hurt to be the outsider.

The feeling hit her like a jab to the gut. Some nights, after a long day, she’d climb into bed, thankful that she didn’t have to share her room so no one could hear her cry herself to sleep. Some days, in the midst of their laughter and silliness, she’d shrink in loneliness that she wasn’t part of it.

She missed home, missed her friends, missed belonging.

The only good part about her tenure so far though was Namjoon, who she quickly learned was the leader of the group. Perhaps it was his ingrained assertiveness from being the head and spokesperson, or maybe it was his straightforward personality, but he was the only one who was truly warm to her and went out of his way to make her feel part of the team.

He would call her over to sit with them during meals, and ask her questions about herself during car rides. The others would listen in and smile at her answers, with Hoseok sometimes asking the occasional follow-up question. But he could only do so much, and it would rarely go beyond that.

Afterwards, they’d flock together again, leaving her to her own devices - they were a group of boys who had known each other for years, and she was the new girl paid to boss them around.

Sometime during her third week, Anna stayed up late, having finished another tearful call with her mom. It was all the usual drama – she was sad, and lonely, and tired. She wanted to come home.

But instead of offering words of comfort, her mother gave her a cold dose of reality.

“Get a grip, will you?” Came her mother’s voice through the phone. “You’re getting paid to travel with 7 grown men, who you say are all nice, and make sure they’re doing what they’re supposed to be doing and where they’re supposed to be. There are far worse ways to make a living.”

Biting down the instinctive defensiveness, she held close to her her mother's parting words.

“If you can’t change the situation, change your attitude to it.”

Feeling claustrophobic in her room after the tense call, she made herself some tea and walked out to her room's balcony.

To her surprise, despite the ridiculous hour inching closer to early morning, she had company.

On the balcony of the room next to hers sat Jimin, who turned to her with expectant, curious eyes. His pink hair blew gently in the midnight air, and his pale skin akin to moonlight. He put his phone down on his lap when she looked at him.

She had half a mind to go back inside, aware that her eyes and face were puffy from crying and she had only a ratty shirt and baggy sweatpants for pajamas. He, on the other hand, looked immaculate despite a long day of press interviews and another sold-out show.

“Hi,” He greeted with a grin as she pulled up a chair.

“Hi,” She greeted back softly, trying not to look weird as she shuffled around.

Jimin kept watching her as she settled into her chair and situated her drink on the small patio-style table, as if he was waiting for her to make conversation. But she didn’t, and yet he still kept looking.

That was one thing she had to get used to quickly – Jimin’s stare. He had a knack for holding eye contact, sometimes longer than absolutely necessary and socially acceptable. He didn’t shy away from openly looking at people either. It was unnerving, especially when he wore those grey contacts that made him look like a wolf, on the prowl to seduce or maybe kill you.

Eventually, he looked away and they settled in silence. The low thrum of the city below buzzed between them, and the cool night air did wonders for her tear-wrecked lungs. But the longer they sat there not talking, the heavier the silence got, like a heavy blanket threatening to choke her.

“If you can’t change the situation, change your attitude to it.”

Her mother's words rang at the back of her head, and shame washed bitterly over her. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed her pride and resolved to change her attitude right here, right now.

“So…” She began, tapping a finger against her drink anxiously.

Jimin turned his gaze to her again, his full lips already slightly curved up as if he was thinking of something funny just now. He said nothing, but the question “Yes?” was in his eyes.

“Trouble sleeping?” Anna asked, unable to come up with anything better.

Jimin smiled and shook his head. “I just really stay up late. You?”

“Had a call with my mom.” She explained simply.

He nodded, but didn’t continue the conversation. Anna sighed quietly, thinking that she at least gave it a shot. She couldn’t blame him if he didn’t feel like talking; it was already late after all.

“Are you okay?” He broke the silence eventually. She faced him, noting his child-like pout as he motioned towards her face. “Your eyes.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed embarrassedly, quickly turning to cover her eyes with a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He hastily apologized. “I didn’t mean to make it weird. You just look like you could use someone to talk to.”

Anna faced him again, face burning with embarrassment.

“It’s okay.” She cleared her throat. “I've just been feeling a little homesick lately.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie, but she didn’t elaborate further.

“Is this weird for you, being away from home?” He asked, nimble fingers moving about to gesture at nothing in particular.

“A little bit.” She shrugged. “I've worked with other acts before, just small bits here and there, but I used to have an office job as a project manager.”

“So why'd you take this job?” Jimin asked, pulling out a tumbler of water from behind his chair. He peered at her from over the rim, waiting for her answer.

“Change of scenery, I guess.” She replied. “I just got to a point where I wanted to do more than just push marketing for all these useless products, you know?”

“So you left that to help sell a band instead.” Jimin teased.

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know I was going to work for you guys, okay.”

“With us.” He said.

“What?”

“With us.” Jimin repeated. “Not for us. With us.”

Anna smiled and lifted her glass to him, which he reciprocated with his tumbler.

Surprisingly, conversations with Jimin came easier than expected. They talked until the first light of early morning brushed against the horizon, tinging the city skyline blue. He was funny and said dumb things sometimes, but Jimin was kind and listened earnestly. He didn’t judge too quickly and always spoke gently.

By the time she managed to shoo Jimin back into his room, reminding him that they had an interview at 10am, her chest was warm with long-gone tea and something else she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

But she managed to a few hours of seamless peaceful sleep, and for the first time in a while, she felt at home.

#park jimin #park jimin fic #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin fanfic #jimin #jimin fic #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #park jimin smut #jimin smut #jimin fwb #not my type

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twdeadlysins · 5 years

Text

We Will Rise: Chapter 4

Pairing: Eventual Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 3,997

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language, mention of character death, possible typos. The 100 usual.

Summary: The mere thought of going down to Earth never dawned on you until you were put on the exodus ship to do just that. You were skeptical, but decided to enjoy the experience even if the radiation killed you since you were going to be floated anyways. That was until the person you loved the most and abandoned was among the 100.

Author’s note: I don’t own anything from The 100, so all credit goes to their respective owners. This is going to be a LONG series because the reader is inserted in the events that take place in the show, therefore dialogue from the show is and will be used.

If you want to (un)tagged in for this series, don’t hesitate to send me an ask, message me, or comment and I’ll add you. The same goes for any other fics! I’m in no way, shape, or form a writer. Any feedback is appreciated, but hate is a different story. Thank you and enjoy!

The gifs I use aren’t mine, so all credit goes to their respective owners.

Catch up!

WE WILL RISE // MASTERLIST

It was dark out with the fog still lingering in the air, so you and Bellamy had ultimately decided it would be best to spend the night in the cave. You did your best to ignore the both of them because you knew if you opened your mouth, things would go downhill. Charlotte yawned, so you took that as your cue to get settled for the night even if you weren’t going to get any sleep. She was cuddled in the corner using Bellamy’s jacket that he offered her as a blanket while he was across from you, laying down on his side. You on the other hand sat with your knees up and slightly separated, playing with the knife you stole back at the camp since you weren’t tired.

“Y/N, get some sleep,” Bellamy demanded in a sleepy voice to which you ignored, so he sat up with a huff and stared at you.

“If only you could take a picture, so it would last longer,” you said with sarcasm, tearing your orbs off of the blade to bore them into his chocolate brown ones. He rolled his eyes as he peered off to the side before glancing back over to you. “I’m not tired therefore I’m keeping watch, so stop worrying about what I’m doing because you lost that right a long time ago,” you spat.

“Why are you so pissed at me? You’re the one that left me, remember?” he retorted in an angered whisper and you were taken aback by what he said, but you kept a stone hard expression. You didn’t want him to see how hurt you were, but the emotion in your eyes told him exactly what you tried to hide because his eyes softened. “You know what? There’s only one thing worse than being stuck here… being stuck here with you.” It was so quiet and filled with hurt due to the bile in your throat and now it was impossible for him not to know how you were feeling. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Charlotte screaming in denial, she was having a nightmare.

Bellamy urged her to wake up while you quickly scrubbed a tear that escaped, glad that he didn’t witness it. Charlotte apologized for her involuntary outburst before he asked if they happened often which led her to sigh and break eye contact giving away the answer.

“What are you scared of? You know what? It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is what you do about it,” he advised when he knew she wouldn’t confess what she was terrified of. He had always told you to fight, to never give up, so it put a small sad smile on your face at the interaction between the two of them. Bellamy had his moments that made you forget the tension between the two of you, but unfortunately it was only temporary. “But… I’m asleep,” she replied in confusion.

“Fears are fears. Slay your demons when you’re awake, they won’t be there to get you when you sleep.” Back on the Ark he had said similar to you and it worked, so you believed it would for her too. Instead of feeling sorry for yourself and never leaving your room, you made a routine everyday that avoided your room until it was time to sleep. You did your daily duties, ate in the dining area, and hung out with Bellamy in his room. The nightmares may have left, but the ache you felt of the lost of your father never did… the pain was just bearable.

The little girl was still confused, she didn’t understand how she could do what Bellamy said. He said she couldn’t afford to be weak, that weakness was death down here, fear was death… you agreed. Now that grounders were here right along with you all made surviving down on Earth a challenge. No one can afford to be weak, to be scared of something because then you either get others killed or yourself. After a brief pause, Bellamy requested to see the knife he gave her and when she handed it to him, he instructed her to hold the blade tight and say ‘Screw you, I’m not afraid’ whenever she was.

Charlotte held the weapon and spoke the mantra with a wavered voice and Bellamy gave her a ‘come on you could do better than that’ look, so she repeated herself with more assertiveness. “Slay your demons, kid, then you’ll be able to sleep.” He patted her knee before laying back down, completely ignoring you. The girl connected her eyes to yours and you gave her a slight smile. “He’s right ya know, once you get rid of them, you’ll have the best sleep that you haven’t had in ages.” Charlotte smiled and nodded her head before fiddling with the blade some more before trying to go back to sleep… you figured you should force yourself to do the same.

“Y/N, wake up,” a low voice urged, nudging you. You swung your arm and waved your hand with a grunt for them to go away. Even though you were a night owl, once you were asleep, you never wanted to get up. “It’s morning, so I’m pretty sure whatever that was last night is gone.” It was Bellamy and he sounded annoyed this time, you had forgotten you were in a predicament. You planted your hands and knees on the cold hard ground and lifted yourself with a huff, wiping the slumber from your eyes once you were standing.

Bellamy had glanced up at your head and stifled a smile before going to exit and you stood there puzzled wondering that was about, so you brought your hands up to your head to feel your hair in all sorts of places. You grumbled as you smoothed down the wild strands as quickly as possible before striding after him. “It’s all clear,” he announced before calling out to see if anyone was near. Jones had yelled his presence and you followed suit towards his voice. Him and two others had hid in another cave and wondered what had happened including Bellamy, you thought you had mentioned it.

“It was acid fog,” you informed with your arms folded and they all seemed to wonder how you knew that by the look on their face. “Earth skills,” you shrugged in a tone that stated it was obvious earning them to realize and give an understanding nod.

“Where’s Atom?” Bellamy questioned getting a shrug in response, that wasn’t a good sign. If he didn’t find safety with them, where else could he have possibly went? You guys ventured off in search of Atom, hoping he was doing the same or still hiding somewhere. All of a sudden, a scream of a little girl rang out and you whipped around to see there was no Charlotte, but she was close. Bellamy led the way in the direction of the shrieking and raced to her only to abruptly stop and once you caught up, you understood why. Atom was sprawled on the ground covered with blisters, the acid fog had gotten.

You and Bellamy ran and crouched on either side of him, he was struggling to breathe, but it seemed he was whispering something so you brought your head closer to hear better. “Kill me. Kill me.” You brought your head back up slowly and peered over at Bellamy who was already looking at you with a clenched jaw before he stood up. Charlotte had came over and you saw her offering her knife to Bellamy and he grabbed it. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. Bell ordered them all including Charlotte to go back to camp, they didn’t need to witness it. “You too, Y/N.”

“What? No. He’s a friend and I’m not leaving him,” you defended with a scoff, going back to looking at Atom since you didn’t care for his reaction or what else he had to say. He didn’t argue further, instead he dropped to his knees while Atom pleaded for him to end it all. Bellamy was hesitant and by the looks of it, he was having a battle in his head, he didn’t want to have to do it and it seemed like he wasn’t going to. Bellamy’s face contorted into bewilderment when he noticed you were lending your hand to him. He handed you the knife with a shaky hand and you gave him a small smile along with a nod before a figure behind his head caught your eye, it was Clarke. She trekked over to where you were and kneeled down, saying she heard screams before gawking at Atom. The blonde’s eyes traveled to yours and Bellamy’s before sadly shaking her head, he was a goner.

Tears started to form and you inhaled slowly, shutting your eyes and compelling yourself to end his suffering. “It’s okay, Atom, you’re going to be okay,” you whispered, trying to ease him into what was ultimately going to happen, he’ll go to a better place. You brought your hand to stroke his locks and started to hum a tune you always sung when you were in the box before carefully plunging the knife into his jugular. Once you retracted the weapon, blood started to flow out of the wound and Atom’s eyelids closed before going limp, but you kept humming. Not for him, but yourself.

It turned nightfall when you made it back to camp and people surrounded you all eager to learn what had happened, looking to their leader for answers. You and Bellamy set Atom’s covered body down and heard Octavia say they were about to kill Jasper. Clarke tried to bring her with her to avoid finding out about her love interest, but Octavia pushed past her. “Octavia, just stay there. Please, stay back,” Bell softly warned, but she ignored his plea and crouched down to lift the jacket that masked Atom’s face. She gasped and when her brother assured her there was nothing he could do, she held up her hand with tears flowing down her face. She placed the clothing back and walked off, brushing off her brother that tried to stop her.

“I’ll look after her,” you mumbled as you walked past Bellamy on your way to the drop ship. Clarke was giving Jasper some tea while Octavia patted a damp cloth on his form, Finn was still dipping the seaweed in the container, and Monty was on the sidelines when you entered the room.

“I guess we’re gonna have to get used to people dying down here, aren’t we?” Octavia solemnly inquired as you went to stand beside Monty, placing your hand on his shoulder. “But not you, you hear me? You’re not allowed to die,” she said as she stroked Jasper’s hair away from his face.

After Clarke was done giving him the rest of his medicine, she excused herself and left while the rest of you lounged around. Monty took a gulp of the alcohol Finn had brought back and handed it to Octavia who took a sip herself. “Disgusting, I love it,” she grimaced, making you chuckle before she leaned over to past it to Finn, but you snatched it with a smirk and took couple swigs. Finn shook his head with a grin as you were about to give him his turn.

“Can I, uh, get a hit of that,” a weary Jasper asked and you all bolted up towards him with a relieved smile sketched across your face. “Let’s start with the soft stuff,” Finn advised, aiding Jasper some water as Octavia and you shared a celebration hug. “Welcome back, buddy.”

Monty and you fist bumped before he and Jasper clasped their hand together. “Was that a dream or did I get speared?” he hiccuped.

“You’ll have a very impressive scar to prove it.” You craned your neck to see Clarke making her way into the room with a smile. “My savior!” he chimed and your grin grew. The blonde thanked him for for not dying because she didn’t think she’d be able to handle that today and a wave of sadness passed through you remembering what happened, but Jasper decided to crack a joke that made you giggle. “I’ll try not to die tomorrow too, if that’s cool.”

“Hey, Murphy.” He rotated his head from the fire to see you approaching with a bottle of whiskey in hand. You sat beside him on a log while he continued to poke the wood that was engulfed in flames with a stick. After a couple sips, you gave him the bottle to which he reluctantly accepted and gestured for the stick.

“Why are you being nice to me?” he questioned with a rude, but puzzled tone after he handed you the twig and drank some of the contents in the glass. You had your cheek resting against your shoulder as you messed with the debris in the fire and brought your attention to your fellow troublemaker with a frown. “Because we’re friends.”

A laugh erupted out of the rebel, “I don’t have friends.” Your scowl expression morphed into a melancholic one hearing him say such a thing. Yeah, he was stubborn, independent and cocky, so were you, but you could admit you had friends. Did he actually feel like and think he had no one to turn to, to rely on?

“The ability to make fire kept the human race alive during the Ice Age,” Pike stated as he was showing the Earth skills class how to produce one. The class was very helpful, but the execution of it was poorly done, he wasn’t holding anyone’s attention. Everyone else was falling asleep or finding something else that was better to occupy their time with like picking their nails or staring off into space (pun intended) whereas you actually listened to what he had to teach. It was dull, sure, but not as much as being in the sky box… you’d take hearing Pike’s lecture any day over being alone in a tin can. “Who knows? It may do the same for us someday.” Smoke started to rise as he blew and low and behold fire was born.

“Viola! The difference between life and death.” After he contained the flames in a clear box, a boy started to applaud in a slow manner beside you, making you and the rest of the class chuckle. “Thank you, Mr. Murphy. Perhaps you’d like to teach us the key to surviving on the ground?” Pike challenged causing you to quirk a brow to the clown who then declined the offer.

“Ms. Blake, how about you?” Your gleeful smile straightened out when she remained silent, she didn’t know the answer. “Not dying,” she shrugged as if it was obvious earning the class to laugh, she wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t the right answer… it wasn’t what Pike was looking for.

“You can laugh all you want, but we’ve got a lot to learn here,” he scolded in a raised voice, continuing to list off just some of the many things you needed to know to survive. “Making fire, tying knots, how to navigate using the stars, how to hunt. You have to learn which plants you can eat and-”

“Which ones to smoke?” Jasper interrupted and any other time you would’ve given him a high five and laugh, but everyone needed to take Pike and his teachings seriously or you’d be stuck with complete imbeciles and you’d be damned if that happened. One joke could pass, but not when the teacher was getting frustrated and lost all hope in anyone paying attention to them.

“Mr. Jordan, that is precisely why we had to separate you and Mr. Green. Listen, the answer to my question- the key to surviving on the ground and on the Ark is to-”

“Never give up,” you finished for him and all eyes swarmed on your form, no one was snickering this time. Pike’s tense figure eased and he nodded with a smirk signalling you to continue. “Keep fighting and never give up because the minute you do, you’re gone for- you’re dead… Listen guys, I’m all for fucking off and joking, trust me, I crack on people all the time, but I’m not about to go to Earth with a bunch of dumbasses ‘cause if so, then I’d rather take my chances by myself.” You threw yourself back against your chair with your arms folded and wandered your eyes over everyone seeing your little speech take effect.

“Are we boring you, Mr. Murphy?” Pike questioned. You peered over to him and he had a smirk on his face before he said he would survive making you roll your eyes and everyone else giggle… they were doomed and so were you.

“Hey, smarty pants.” You rolled your eyes as you halted your movements and pivoted around to see Murphy still in the classroom which was surprising, you’d thought he would’ve bolted back to his box rather than stay in the room for another minute.

“Hey, survivalist.” Murphy smirked and plopped down in a chair in the front row as you leaned against the desk. The troublemaker questioned why you were still in the classroom to which you retorted the same question, earning a ‘touche’ in response, but you ended up explaining why. You were staying back to get more lessons from Pike who had to step out to talk to Jaha… more knowledge and chances of surviving on Earth, less time in your prison.

“What a dork,” he snorted, causing you to throw your eyes to the back of your head and chuckle. “But if I had to choose one person to be stuck with on Earth, it’d be you,” he admitted, making you lift a brow with amusement. “What can I say?” he shot his hands up in surrender with his signature smug smirk, “You’re wicked smart… and not to mention cute.”

“Ahh there it is,” you pointed with a giggle, shaking your head after you settled down. The two of you continued the conversation and made loads of jokes about each other including throwing some of Pike roasts in there. Speaking of the devil, Pike came into the room and looked at you before eyeing Murphy wondering what he was still doing in his classroom.

“Looks like that’s my cue to leave,” Murphy mumbled, placing his palms on his knees to get out of the chair and glare at Pike as he walked out. “Nice talkin’ to ya, Y/N.”

“Murphy, you know that isn’t true. We’re friends whether you like it or not, so stop trying to push me away,” you irkly said earning a ‘whatever’ as a response.

Despite him believing he had no friends, the two of drank and talked about people as they walked by. It was nice to hang out with someone who had the same traits as you even though it’s said to not be a good thing which was true, but in some moments it was perfect.

Morning rolled around and you woke up on the ground with a headache and Murphy was gone, he was a dick for not waking you up. Later on you were informed by Finn that Wells was found outside of the wall, dead, by a grounder. You’d be lying if you said you believed that crap.

When Jasper was struck, the grounders didn’t kill him on purpose, they intended to use him as bait, so why murder Wells? To send a message? It didn’t make sense to you for some reason, you just had a weird feeling about his unexpected death… something was off, but you needed to keep your suspicions to yourself. People would dismiss your thoughts since there wasn’t another explanation.

Your side was leaning against a tree, arms folded as you watched Clarke sit with her legs underneath her, staring at Wells’ grave. You didn’t get why she suddenly cared for him, but you did feel bad that this was his fate, so maybe Clarke did too.

Footsteps approached and the blonde abruptly stood and held a knife in front of her whereas you perked up a brow, not moving a muscle since you knew exactly who it was by the sound. Finn had given Clarke what looked to be a color pencil and you smiled to yourself at the sweet gesture, but her grateful smile vanished as she stared at the gift. She mentioned Wells would give her art supplies when they were kids and that he traded his own stuff to give it to her. Her memory etched a solemn expression on your face, but it quickly morphed into shock when she mentioned that he let her hate him for getting her father floated when it was actually her mother… her mother killed her father and yours.

“What? Your mom was the one who floated both our fathers?” you sharply inquired. You were angry and shocked, angry at her mother and the fact that Clarke didn’t tell you, she just voiced it like you weren’t even there. Clarke sent a sad look your way and nodded making you scoff and crane your head to glare at Wells’ grave with regret. You despised him for nothing and that was going to haunt for the rest of your life.

“I just wish there was something I could do, to tell her I know. Make her feel what-”

An idea popped in your head and you trained your eyes on Clarke, interrupting her. “There is something you could do.”

You watched Clarke rub her wrist as Monty was inspecting her wristband, now Abby would think her daughter is dead. According to Monty, the band was still in good condition, he could finally attempt to contact the Ark. They’re running out of air up there and this would be the only shot you guys had in communicating with them and by nightfall you would. You exited the drop ship, seeing everyone work on different tasks to get the wall built up around camp. As you were tying some knots to secure a couple wood pieces together, there was commotion and it involved Murphy, how surprising. All of a sudden someone yelled and you glanced up to see Murphy urinating on the guy that fell down out of exhaustion. You threw down the rope and sped walked to the scene to push the rebel away while some other guys did the same to the boy.

“You said you wanted a water break!” he hollered past your shoulder before smirking back at you and shouting for everyone to get back to work. He shoved your hand off his chest with a grunt and walked off to probably order people around while he stood back and watch them do all the labor. You scoffed and went back to do your share, but Octavia raced up to you and snatched your arm, dragging you towards a tent with Jasper close behind.

“Octavia, slow your roll!” She ignored your protest and opened the flap of the tent, pushing you in while Jasper abruptly left. “What is the fucking rush? Why are you two-” Before you could finish your sentence, Octavia tossed something your way and you caught it, gawking at the item with confusion to see a makeshift knife. “What’s this?”

“I don’t know! I was taking Jasper out for the first time since the incident and he fell and we saw a knife beside these fingers!” She set the fingers harshly on the table wrapped in a small cloth befpre Clarke and Bellamy along with Jasper entered the tent. You handed over the knife to Clarke who inspected it saying it was metal from the drop ship therefore it wasn’t the grounders. Grounders didn’t kill Wells, someone in this camp did… your inkling was right, now you just had to narrow it down to who.

_____________________________________

Thank you for reading! What did you think of this part? Any feedback is much appreciated and I would love to hear your thoughts, criticism, suggestions, etc! If you’d like to be tagged or removed, don’t hesitate to let me know!

Sorry it took me forever to upload this part! _____________________________________

Taglist:

@jodiereedus22 @im-a-writer-sometimes @morgannope @strangerliaa @bunnymother93 @delightful-pirate @gruffle1 @bloodrose-scythe @sheebthezeeb @maknagisa @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @kymberlytorres @ashtounding @j-a-val

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake #we will rise #the 100 #cw the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake x reader insert #bellamy x reader insert #bellamy blake x you #bellamy x you #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy x y/n #f.

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sorryimviolet · 5 years

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Daddy Issues Summary: After knowingly sabotaging Bill’s meeting, Lily gets punished. But will she learn her lesson?

Warning: little angst in the beginning but with a fluffy ending, nsfw, ddlg type situation, petplay, roughness and spanking, cursing, initial possessive behavior, dom drop, daddy kink, just a little bit of degrading to a degree, and occasional spelling and grammar mistakes. All characters in this work are above the age of 18. Authors Note: I have never written anything like this before, so please bear with me. It isn’t quite my cup of tea, but if it’s yours, read away! This is based on a request I received from @skrsgvrd, I hope you like it! Thank you to all of those who like and share my works, it helps me out so much, I can’t even begin to express my thanks. Feedback and constructive criticism is deeply appreciated, I love you all so much! Love and hugs, -Vi

˗`ˏOne-Shot requests are open!ˎˊ˗

“I hope you’re proud of yourself, you almost cost me my job today.” Bill said, his tone going from calm to livid in a matter of seconds. Not only was he pissed, but he was right. Earlier that night, he had allowed me to attend him at his business arrangement, a rare occasion for what his job would allow, and I royally fucked it up. Not only for myself, but possibly for Bill too. I was mad at him for neglecting my needs, letting my selfishness take control, so I misbehaved in an almost unforgivable way. I had sent him nudes in the bathroom when he was pulling up the slideshow on his computer, preparing to give his speech about new company procedures, I didn’t take into consideration that his phone would be connected to his computer and thus, my message and picture was displayed on screen in front of his boss and colleagues. Thankfully, I wasn’t fully nude, but the humiliation was limitless when I had walked back into the room; Bill was scrambling to get the image off of the screen and every person’s face was turned towards me. I knew that my punishment would be severe. “I can’t even look at you I’m so mad, I tell you to behave for one goddamn night and look what you did.” Bill looks down with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, the fluorescent yellow light of the kitchen shining off of his face. “Go to your room.” He commands, his voice stern and assertive. I obey without question, “Yes sir.” From the bedroom I hear Bill pour himself a drink, and when he’s finished consuming the dull liquid, slams it back down on the counter. The fear surges through my body, usually I would be defiant and flirty, but not this time; I’ve gone way too far. I remove my heels and sit on the duvet, hands clenched in a tight ball in my lap over my silk dress. When he enters, his aura is not playful, “Take off your fucking clothes,” he says with the same tone as earlier, my hands shake slightly as I make quick work to rid myself of my dress. “I’m not going to hurt you doll, but you need to be punished. Now what’s the safe word?” Bill says meeting my eyes, his hand cupping the side of my face. “Red.” “Good girl.” He sits on the bed as I remove my undergarments and bend over his lap, anxious to get it done and over with. The first blow always hurts the most, and knowing this, he gave her a warning smack before striking hard on my behind. “Why, after all this time, still insist on disobeying me?” Smack. “I-I-I’m sorry daddy.” I nearly let out a sob, not because of the pain but because of the humiliation of it all, the regret of what I had done, and how I had hurt his reputation and job performance at the arrangement. His next smack is harder than the first, tears threatening my eyes even though I know that my punishment had just started. “But are you really sorry princess? Because last time I checked,” smack, “sorry meant it won’t happen again, and yet here we are.” He punctuates the end of his sentence with another smack and a pat to my ass. I can feel the welts on my cheeks and the heat of each blow feels like hot coals against my skin. Bill gives me 5 more smacks and then rubs the pink handprints, soothing the flesh. “Lie down.” His command is sharp, and I do as I am told, not wanting to cause any other turbulence. Bill gets up and grabs the leather riding crop, the same one he used when he was filming Victoria, and I let out a yelp when he strikes my clit, the sensation painful but desirable at the same time. “Just look at you, getting all wet for me like this, this was supposed to be a punishment.” He clicks his tongue and then lands another, and another, just arousing me more. “You were bad on purpose weren’t you? You knew my iMessage was open on there didn’t you? You just couldn’t help but misbehave.” I look down in shame and guilt over my selfishness, wishing for a time machine to change the awaiting outcome of my intentional mistake. “Answer me.” His voice raises in volume, expressing his anger more thoroughly as he lays a few more onto my lower stomach. “I did, and I’m so sorry daddy, I promise it won’t happen again.” Tears well up in my eyes and I cup my face in my hands, sobbing into them. Shame taking up and consuming my form, all the thoughts in my head are that Bill will leave me, that he won’t love me anymore, that he’ll find someone else, the most horrible thoughts I can muster are flooding into my brain, causing me to break for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest. Bill discards the riding crop and sits on the bed next to me, petting my hair and pulling himself to me. “Sweetheart,” He starts, but can’t seem to find the right words to say in the moment. “Do you still love me?” I timidly ask, afraid of the answer. “Of course I do doll, I just don’t like it when you misbehave, especially when it’s impulsive and effects not only you, but me too.” Bills tone soft and caring, calming me down in an instant. “Lily, why would you do that? There are other things you could’ve done to get my attention.” He traces soothing patterns on my cheek, with a worried look on his face, it almost seems as if he is scared for me. “I wanted you to pay attention to me, all you do is work and you never have time for me anymore. I wanted to do something for you to give me attention, good or bad. I feel so ignored sometimes.” I nearly start crying again but he lays down with me and hugs me close, my head on his chest and he pets my hair lovingly. “Dolly, you’re my #1 priority, sometimes I need to do work though, you know that. Get in some pajamas, that’s all for tonight okay?” I nod my head and I beam at his concern, I feel better that I know that he still cares, but I feel awful at what I had done. “But I need to make it up to you.” I protest, looking deep into those murky green eyes. “Yes princess, yes you do.” He rolls onto his back, and watches me as I unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, pulling him free of his slacks. I stroke up and down his length, watching the blood rush down into the cock filling my hand. I occasionally glance up at Bill, studying his expression, watching it transform from concern to lust in only a short period of time. “Oh Lily,” he moans when I speed up my strokes, my hand never stopping its ministrations. I kiss his thighs and look up at him, pausing for a moment to bite my lip and blow on his head, teasing him. “Fuck, this is what you wanted wasn’t it? You dirty little girl.” I nod my head in confirmation, and he sits up, kicking off his pants and unbuttoning his shirt. Bill grabs his belt from within the loops of his slacks and urges me to turn around. I obey him without question and get on all fours, knowing that I shouldn’t disobey him any further. The fact he is even doing anything remotely sexual with me after my stunt surprises me nonetheless. Bill wraps the belt around my neck, pulling it through the buckle until it begins to choke me slightly. I can feel the warmth pooling between my legs when he yanks on it once for good measure. “Bad kitty,” he whispers in my ear, the words alone turning me to a pile of jello. I feel his hand creep up the back of my thigh to my behind, landing one less-than-rough smack and then rubbing it after to soothe the flesh. He does the same to the other side, until both cheeks are red and filled with handprints. “Look at you, I’m punishing you and you’re still so wet for me.” Bill states as he spreads my cheeks apart to look at my two openings, diving one hand down to tease me, prodding me with one finger. “You’re not a good girl at all are you? What did I do to deserve such a bad girl, huh?” “N-no sir.” I sputter out as he plunges two of his long fingers into me, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. My breath becomes labored and I struggle to keep my composure, attempting to keep a coherent thought but all I can think of is how Bill is making me feel and what I had done. He retracts his fingers all too soon, and lands a few more smacks to each side of my behind, “You’re just Daddy’s little whore aren’t you baby?” He says, I attempt to answer, but he continues speaking, “All you can think about is daddy’s cock, isn’t that right? That’s why you did this?” He asks, landing a few more blows and lining himself up at my entrance. “Yes s-sir.” I reply, arching my back a little as he pulls on the makeshift leash, restricting my airflow further. He thrusts into me hard, enveloping himself within my velvety walls and pauses for me to adjust. My jaw goes slack and my face contorts with pleasure as I release a heavy moan, relishing in the satisfaction Bill is giving me. His pace begins to pick up and the more it does, the more I feel the wetness pool between my legs. When Bill yanks on the belt, temporarily cutting my airflow, my pussy squeezes around him and for a few seconds, I feel lightheaded and airy. He grunts with each push of his hips and slaps my right cheek hard enough to bruise, releasing his pent-up frustration on me. I can’t bring myself to care, the only thing on my mind is my impending release, and I can sense that is what is on his mind too. He always tends to alleviate the stress of things through pleasure and aggression, until we are both spent and exhausted, and it works. The cause of stress is ironically almost always me, but he somehow loves me through it all. I can feel the pressure building in my abdomen, causing me to clench down on his cock. I let out a small squeak when he thrusts a little too hard into me, my moans raising an octave. Bill picks up the pace, and he wrenches my neck back pulling me by my hair, and I push back onto him, taking him impossibly deeper as he leans in close to my ear. “Don’t you dare fucking come princess, I’m not done with you yet.” He growls, reaching around and massaging my clit as he pounds into me. The delightful pressure is transfixing, and it’s all I need to be pushed off the edge, against Bill’s wishes. “Daddy,” Was the only warning I had managed to give him before it happened. He lets out a low moan when he feels me contract around him and he thrusts into me only a few more times before releasing into me. Bill pulls out of me and rolls me onto my back, taking care to pull the belt off from around my neck, and hold my legs open while ducking down between them. He flicks his tongue up and down, lapping up the combination of our fluids. Bill holds my legs open enough to nearly split me in half as he devours my cunt, making an opulent scene of doing so. He occasionally pushes his entire tongue deep within my tight hole and hums, causing me to moan and grasp onto his hair, holding him close to me as I grind onto his tongue. “C’mon, fuck my face baby.” He utters before swirling his tongue around my small bundle of nerves, inserting two of his fingers inside of me to make up for the loss. I stare down at him, locking eyes with his enchanting green orbs. Bill suckles on my clit, overstimulating me as his skilled fingers curl to hit my sweet spot just right. I let go and ride out my orgasm as he coaxes it out of me. Bill laps up all of the creamy essence pouring from me, creating additional pleasure among my oversensitive pussy. He sits back onto his knees, laughing to himself a little, “You know, I’m starting to assume this is why you misbehave so often. We always end up fucking don’t we?” Taglist: Please let me know if you would like to be tagged or removed, I kind of assumed on this since I have no idea who would want to read it. @bskarsgardlove92 @billdreamy69 @slinksterbill @lovesickbill @skrsgvrd @ohtheangst @pennywise-girl @dude-leave @crazylittleladyforbill @spitch0 @chloefran @wheremyjuice @exemplaryonly

#Bill Skarsgård #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard #hot bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård imagine #bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgård/reader #bill Skarsgård smut #bill #skarsgard #fanfiction #Smut #my writing

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hisgirlwonder · 5 years

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One Shot - Heaven in Hiding

Length: 1.7k words Warning: Smut, kink, humiliation, etc Synopsis: Michael calls for you to his office but you won’t go without a fight. Unable to tolerate your insubordinate behaviour, he has to show the others who is in charge before anyone else decides to step out of line. Notes: I did plan to create a second part but I’m not too sure currently, will see if I get the inspiration to :)

Gallant comes back from his interview with Michael declaring to you and Coco as he sits down, “Girls, your boy is in with a chance at Langdon. I got slapped in the face with a total gay vibe. I mean, look at him. No straight male has hair like that,” then points to himself, “I should know, I do hair for a living and I’m gay.”

The two of you look at each other in disbelief then look back at Gallant. Coco comments, putting her hand in the air for him to stop, “Oh honey, no no. I hate to break it to you but that man is the modern day Prince.” Agreeing with Coco, your lips are lightly puckered and you nod. She continues where she left off, gesturing with her hands, “His magnetism, his charm, his prowess are all part of the appeal. He knows he’s so pretty that straight men would bow before him.” She looks Gallant up and down, “He probably can figuratively feel that hard on you have for him a mile away. “

Before the conversation can continue any further, Michael walks in the room and directly to your table. “I hate to break up the party where the three of you are discussing my sexuality but, y/n, you need to come with me.”

“Why? Why me? What could I have possibly done to warrant you moving from your throne coming down here?” You question him, snapping at his demand.

He dug at you, “Why not? Shouldn’t you feel honoured that I’m wasting my time on your existence or that I even know your name?”

You scoff, “I don’t think you need to barge in here, dick in hand to wank over the authority you possess, and not tell me why you want or need me to come with you.” You knew what you’d be in for but you never let a man speak to you like that. This place was the end of the line and he could kill you for all you cared. He’d never kill you though; you were too much fun. You were a brat and you drove Michael crazy.

The contempt sets Michael off and he wants to show everyone who’s boss. He doesn’t want the others thinking they can speak to him the way you just did. He gets a hold on a handful of your hair and pulls you to him. “You live here, we provide for you, and for what? For your insolence?” He pulls tighter and spits callous words at you, “I could snap your fucking neck right now and your peers would thank me that I spared them.”

He drops the tight grip around your hair causing you to lose your balance and fall to the floor. “Come with me now. You don’t need or deserve an explanation. Just do as I say. You need to remember, you’re only a grey and not a purple. You don’t have the privilege like others do when it comes to deciding what you want to do around here. I also don’t repeat myself more than once.” That’s right. He dug the knife in a little deeper. You were only a grey; no more, no less. You watched as those like Coco got to wear beautiful purple dresses and you were stuck in the grey smocks provided for you.

You loudly close the door to Michael’s room and exclaim, “You didn’t have to rip me a new one back there, you know?” He walks over from his desk and runs his hands up and down your arms, “I’m sorry, pet. It just needs to be believable. You did insinuate that I was going to wank over my power so…” he trails off, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. You interject, holding back the laughter, “You have to hand it to me, the dick in hand comment was hilarious. Now, you say believable huh? Don’t you mean terrifying? Gallant isn’t adept at being around you when you’re like that. He’s terrified of you. Not all of us are like me.” You smile, your tongue caught in your teeth. You didn’t love this game but you didn’t hate it either. “Michael, why did you call me here anyway?”

“A couple of reasons,” one of his fingers push some of your fallen hair behind your ear, “Let me get the first for you.” He makes his way back to where he was before you came in and undoes the clasp on the necklace around his neck. You can only presume from his actions and what you can see he’s unlocking a drawer. Michael takes out a lilac coloured box, calling you over. You wander to where he’s sitting, positioning yourself to the right of him. An arm of his wraps around your thighs and he cocks his head at the box in front of you, “Open it.”

Michael had, in secret, bought you many things before but never anything like this. He usually bought you things like your favourite books, your favourite treats, that sort of thing. This was different. This was purple lingerie and not just any purple but royal purple. You look to him and try to say something but you’re unable to form a proper sentence, somewhat speechless. “You may wear grey dresses and seem like another number to them but to me,” he plants a kiss on your outer thigh, “Deep down you’re a purple to me; more of a purple than anyone else here,” he assures you. Your hand strokes his hair in approval - you were the only one allowed to even think about touching his golden locks. Once you’ve gained composure enough to be coherent, you swoon, “Oh, Michael, they’re beautiful.”

Michael stands up to meet you at your level, slightly above you in height. He was only around 3 inches taller but it made enough of a difference to the situation – you felt small, and it added to your submissiveness.

“Maybe I can give you the second present now.” You notice his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “I am pretty hungry.” A moment later, the two of you are locking lips - his kisses reek of desperation and desire and his hands are everywhere; one is fixed in your hair, tugging at it, and the other is exploring your body. He moves his hands down and positions his arms to pick you up. The two of you are still engaged in a passionate kiss when Michael throws you down on the bed. He positions himself above you and asks, “How shall we do this, Miss l/n?”

You swirl your fingertips over his chest and playfully tease in a childlike manner, “Like I’m just a pathetic little grey with no real purpose other than to serve you.” Michael tongues his front teeth at your words, “This morning has sent you into a state, hasn’t it?” You bring him down to you, your eager mouth finding his earlobe, whispering, “You have no idea.”

There is a change in the energy inside those four walls suddenly. His hand grabs at your face, “Oh, little grey, what are you doing here? Why are you in my room?” You got too much of a kick out of this. You stay quiet, waiting to see what happens next. His tone changes, becoming louder. “Answer me! I am your superior and I demand an answer.”

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you jest, “Well, if you must know, was bored.” You knew how much Michael disliked someone rolling their eyes at him so it amped up his frustration even further. You wanted him to break and become merciless on your body. Michael snaps, “Bored? Is that so? Well, maybe I can find some use for you.”

He runs his hands up your thighs and teases at your slit through your damp underwear. “I can feel how wet you are without even taking them off. Pathetic.” His fingers slip the fabric to the side and force their way past the entrance. You try to hold back a moan of enjoyment to stay in character. You’d be lying if you said his humiliation didn’t set you off. The power and dominance he asserted against you, both in the bedroom and in public, drove you wild.

Michael remarks with a low snarl, “I’m learning more and more about you every time I see you. Like, right now for example, your body is offering itself to me.” He brings up his speed, fucking you faster with his hand. “It doesn’t know that I already own it,” then comes a pauses as he rips off your underwear, leaving you exposed. Saying nothing to you as his face dives in, kissing and tonguing every inch of flesh between your legs.

You try to hide the fact his mouth, especially his tongue, felt like heaven. “W-w-why are you doing this?” You stutter, pretending that you weren’t enjoying what was happening. “You can’t do this.” He looks up, chin covered in your juices, “That’s where you’re wrong. I can do whatever I want.” Everything about the moment felt so right; his hands, his fingers, his mouth, his tongue (oh god his tongue). If you were to die right now, you would die happily.

With fingers still in your dripping pussy, he can feel you reaching the edge, so he taunts you, “If I had plans to actually use your worthless hole to fill you with my seed right now, your body would dissolve like a sugar cube in water before you realised what was going on enough to try and stop me.” His mouth finds his way back to your clit and he’s more aggressive this time.

His own words spark a match inside him and the fire consumes him, and it spread to consume you too. The heat rises up throughout your body and explodes. You burst at the seams, climaxing intensely. You cover your mouth with your arm to try and muffle the loudness of your noises. Michael looks up from between your legs. He bites your thigh gently, unable to hold back his satisfaction of what just happened. “Do you want to go make a show?” Your hand tousles his hair and you knew exactly what he meant.

“Yes, yes I do.”

#writing #fanfic #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #ahs #michael langdon #michael x reader #one shot #smut #set: in ahs #d&s #michael langdon smut #ahs smut #michael langdon fanfiction #american horror story fanfiction #ahs fanfic #american horror story fanfic

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lostinthe-pines-blog · 5 years

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Olivia - Ch. 7 - A Celebration

BACK FROM A 6 MONTH HIATUS. I’m going to try to give this story its proper ending.

Catch Up by reading

CH. 6 Here

Masterlist Here

A multi-chapter story that follows Liam and MC as they spend their first year ruling as King and Queen of Cordonia. As they rule together they realize their strongest ally is the one person from the one place their people have rejected. Questioning why Liam and MC still support Olivia and Lythikos they work together to restore her reputation.

Story-lines from The Royal Romance books have been altered slightly.

NOTE: This is a fictional story based on Pixelberry’s Choices App. *The Royal Romance books. I am not affiliated with Pixelberry nor do I own the rights to their original characters.

TAGS: @katurrade @emerald-bijou @speedyoperarascalparty @captain-kingliamsqueen@purplegreyshrimp@museofbooks @blznbaby

The thick clouds of storms cleared in perfect time as the day of the celebration came around. The air was crisp and left behind the smell of fresh rain. This was an early morning for everyone. The celebration in the kingdom would begin on the palace grounds by noon but there was still so much to be done.

The article (which ended up being a well written 5 page booklet that was passed out with daily newspapers and was free to acquire at any local convenience store.) was doing exactly what Liam needed it to. Maybe his people didn’t quite trust Olivia but the whispers of her arrival stopped and it was clear the gossip of the town was far more welcoming than ever before.

The thick sheets of the bed were comforting as alarms started blaring, there was no sun peeking through the windows, for there was no sun in the sky. It was still to early but it was time to begin. As if the alarm going off was not enough only moments later the knocking at the door woke Olivia even more so.

“Duchess Nevrakis, your breakfast is ready will you be joining everyone?” a small and weak worker of the palace spoke.

Olivia did her best not to be to harsh to the girl, she was only doing her job. “Yes.” she spoke sternly holding her tongue on the topic of why she thought an alarm was not enough to wake her. Olivia could hear the girls footsteps trot away as she turn in bed hoping for only a few more moments of comfort, and there they were staring back at her. Olivia’s heart skipped a beat seeing his eyes. She did not come to the palace expecting to leave smitten, especially not by the stable boy she’d often forgotten.

“Morning.” Drake’s deep voice rumbled.

Hiding how excited she actually was Olivia nodded and responded with a soft “Good Morning.”

Drake was still unsure of the intentions of the red headed ruler in bed next to him, but he’d felt lonely for so long he didn’t question her much further. Something in him wanted to ask her who he was to her and why all of a sudden she’d been drawn to him. But he stayed quiet in fear that the answer would be similar to MC’s from those years ago.

“Drake..” Olivia began through he saddened voice.

“Yes?” he responded sweetly

“Will you accompany me today…” she trailed

Drake knew what she meant, if he stayed by her side today then he’d been documented there. Known as the man behind the mind of Lythikos. Was this truly the title he wanted? Was it not too soon? He pushed the questions of his mind aside hearing the pleading of her voice. “Yes, of course Duchess.” he mocked a bit at the end watching as a smile spread over her white teeth. She laughed with him now to make up for all the time she’d spent laughing at him.

Olivia took in his smile one last time before rising out of bed, fully nude. Olivia had no shame and she intended to let Drake get a final look at the shape of the girl who’d left him in pleasure all night, and it worked. Her long red hair trailed down stopping just shy of the small back and it seemed to dance for him with every sway in her step.

“You’re a tease” Drake yelled tossing a pillow at her from behind.

Missing the soft attack she giggled and looked back at Drake one last time before stepping into the bathroom. “I’m glad it’s working.”

In the dining hall MC sat next to Liam in silence, reading over the article published for the first time. Her fingers intertwined with Liam’s as he read over pages of documentation on how the day would run, what his speeches would say and who the notable attendees would be. MC was impressed by the article, Janessa had done a lovely job of keeping it about the basics of the friendship. Filling in the stories told with actual quotes from her private interview with Liam and Olivia. MC read the quotes over and over excited for the attitude it would bring to her people. Change was coming, she could feel it.

“Elizabeth was the mother I wish I’d been blessed with. She was a mother to all as I think anyone in the kingdom would agree. I was too young at the time to recognize how truly lucky I was to not only know that remarkable woman but to have been trusted with the betrothal of her son. Be it for alliance or be it for love; Elizabeth’s intentions were correct. She ruled nobly and it is my goal to take the lessons I learned from her in her short life, and continue to learn even after her passing, and apply them to the people of Lythikos. Elizabeth believed in every single person under her power, commoner or not; and I hope the people of Lythikos know that through these dark times I feel the same for them. In return, I also feel the same for the many surrounding lands and especially the people here, in Cordonia.”

“Olivia is a fire, she is strong willed, and she will spread her burning passion with everyone. I’m lucky to have known her as long as I have, to have trusted her and seen her through so many hardships. I trust she will stand by my side as we reunite Lythikos and Cordonia as the pair of strongest allies.”

Many things stood out to MC in this article but one quote shocked her, and warmed her spirit. A small quote placed under the photo of Olivia and MC at the Royal Wedding.

“MC has shown me nothing but absolute kindness since her arrival, even in the courting season. She is Liam’s perfect match on a level I never could have been. I see in her, and I know Liam sees in her, a piece of his mother. They are cut from the same cloth those two, and Cordonia will be the luckiest country on earth have received both remarkable woman as their Queen.” - Olivia Nevrakis

Reading the words again and again to ensure they were really true MC eventually tugged at the hand of her husband pointing to the quote.

“She said this?” MC questioned.

Liam smiled and nodded beginning to speak before being interrupted by the entrance of the duchess herself. Bold Olivia entered in nothing but a robe as her wet hair was braided down her side. Drake followed in after her. Liam was still unsure about who was following who in that new formed relationship.

“It’s true.” Olivia spoke referring to the quote that was straight from her voice. “Don't’ let it go to your head dear.” She winked adding some of her signature spite.

MC giggled to herself pushing the pages aside and looking crossed the table, the dark sky from the windows slowly lighting as the sun was only minutes away from its arrival. Her gaze broken by the entrance of Maxwell Beaumont.

“Hey everyone!” Maxwell beamed loudly, too loudly for the time of the morning. Following quickly behind him was Hanna, hiding her feelings behind her porcelain face just as she always had. The sight of them together now tugged at MC’s heart. She remembered in that moment what the day would hold for this Beaumont couple.

“Big announcement today, and we thought we’d out closes friends first” Maxwell smiled looking around.

“We’re not friends.” Olivia chiming as she sipped a cup of coffee.

Ignoring her sentiments Maxwell continued “Hanna Lee has accepted my proposal and will be the future Mrs. Beaumont.”

The groups heads turned toward him in shocked and Olivia slammed her glass down in laughter. MC was the only one of the group not staring at the couple. She felt horrible endorsing this marriage in any way.

“So it doesn’t bother you that she likes girls?” Olivia spat as Drake turned toward her.

“Liv!” he snorted asserting more dominance over her now than at all in the last 48 hours.

“What Drake? It’s weird isn’t it?” Olivia whispered to drake as the room continued in awkward silence.

“Hanna… can I speak with you?” MC said looking up to her.

The pair of girls stepped into the hallway, Hanna never letting her eyes reach MC’s as they spoke.

“Hanna, why are you doing this? I love Maxwell, adore him even and I know he’ll take care of you but he’s not what you want nor what you need.” MC explains quickly and sternly.

“My parents will abandon me, and I’m not like you. I’m not good at handling myself alone. I need them.” Hanna speaks letting tears form in her throat “This is the only way for me to be free.”

MC sighs knowing that this is truly what Hanna believes. She reached her arms out and pulls Hanna close. She’d always regretted not being able to give Hanna what she’d wanted from her. The pair of them stayed together there for a while before Hanna pulled away wiping tears from her face.

“I know you’re worried about me MC, but please don't’ be. Max and I, we have a plan. We know what we want to be, he’s helping me just like he helped you. Look around, without Bertrand or Max you wouldn’t be here. But now you don’t even need them to stay. Please just let me do this…” she trails.

MC nods holding her tongue knowing she still doesn't agree with what's actually happening.

Upon returning back to the dining hall the morning commences, the breakfast is short as everyone leaves to begin their duties before guests started arriving.

MC sits now before her gaudy vanity that so many queens before her have stared into. She lets the crew of people assigned to make her look beautiful do their work. Sitting before her on the ground reading still over his papers is her ever loving husband.

“Can I read you this?” Liam asks, “I want to make sure it sounds right, I trust you.” he smiles his eyes staring into hers seeing her visible acceptance. He begins to read from a page that is clearly half memorize.

“I thank the many leaders who have traveled far to be here today, and I am grateful to everyone who has attended as Cordonia celebrates another year. I want to share quickly the accomplishments we hope to achieve over the next 12 months. Firstly, we will strengthen our natural resources so that we can work closer with our allies, creating more jobs and less debt. Secondly, we hope to expand our borders once again by bringing Lythikos back into our walls.” Liam pauses now knowing the audience will have its own say in this moment. He looks to MC above him as the assistants around her work quickly enhancing her already striking features

“Well?” MC’s smiles “I think it will get a reaction for sure.” she nods

Liam closes the files of papers and continues to search her face. He’d done as much practicing as he could at this point, he didn’t know where to go now. His eyes on her he’s calmed by her warming smile.

“You’ve got this Liam” she offers nothing more than a smile, worrying that if she moves she’ll upset her team. “I love you” she mouths silently to him watching him rise from the marble floor.

“I love you too” he speaks audibly before heading to his own team of people assigned to make him look presentable, though MC didn’t think he needed any help.

As the afternoon began, peeking from behind a curtain on the third level of the palace Olivia let her nerves settle in. She can see thousands of people in the courtyard and fields of the palace that are now filled with tents, shops, dining areas and even a carnival for the children who came to celebrate Cordonia. Just outside the palace steps she sees Liam and MC greeting noblemen and women from all over. Olivia has even begun to admire the way MC holds herself around dignitaries. She truly encompasses a royal now, Olivia hides her smile for the friend she’s made as she closes the curtain.

“Oliver Nevrakis is more than just a name on the Treaty of Accords, he’s my namesake, a friend to the Rhys family, and he’s the reason Cordonia and Lythikos stayed in harmony for so long..” Oliva begins to whisper to herself pacing back and forth in the hallway. She knew her speech would be prompted for her, but she refused to rely on technology. Her reputation was on the line.

Pacing up and down the hallway she was easy to spot, Olivia’s hair was braided perfectly as it laid crossed her right shoulder. She wore a signature vibrant red dress with a deep neckline. It was patternless, simple and striking. She was hard to miss as Drake approached from behind her.

“Olivia” he spoke softly pulling her from her nervous speech, “Wow, you look, beautiful.” Drake wore a simple grey suit, Liam had loaned him a perfect satin red pocket square to match Olivia.

Olivia looked up from the floor and smiled at Drake, “Hi” she said with relief, “Thank you for joining me.” she took steps toward Drake. Her harshness was gone with him now, she was only curious for him.

“Olivia, I have to ask” Drake sighs, “Are you sure about me joining you, I won’t be offended if you aren’t, but it’s a big thing, you and I” he began to ramble. “I just don’t want to be something you regret tomorrow.” he finished as her hands found his.

“Drake, I’m sure.” she giggled leaning up and pressing her lips to his quickly. “Besides, being with a Cordonian can only help my case right?” she nods.

“Oh so we’re together now?” he raises an eyebrow.

“If you want to be…” Olivia trails, knowing she’d like to give these budding feelings a chance.

Drake squeezes her hand, “Why don’t we just start with today.” he offers, “We need to get out there before this event ends and the conference begins.”

Silently nodding Olivia follows him down the hall. Of course she was terrified of what would happen out there, peoples loved ones had died because of the things that her mother had done. Now she wasn’t just sneaking into Cordonia at night, she was presenting herself to everyone.

As they walked out the steps of the palace Drake moved to let go of her hand, but she insisted it stay connected to hers, and so it did. The few allowed members of the press snapped photos of Drake and Olivia together. The sounds of questions being yelled at her drowned away until the voice of one spoke up.

“My brother is dead because of you!” a woman with common clothes yelled from the back of the crowd. The sentence hit her ears like a bullet to her chest. She could not continue to smile for pictures, or even move on. She froze her eyes locked with the woman who’d spoken up. The world was moving around Olivia, but she was only watching the hate in the eyes staring back at her.

Liam stepped up grabbing Olivia’s other hand moving to help escort her but she fought back. “No!” she whispered yanking her hand back forcefully. She didn’t care if she made her King look bad in front of the press, she needed to meet this woman. Still holding on to Drake she brought him with her as she walked to the blockade keeping commoners and press back.

“You” she said, knowing the woman would know who she was speaking too. “Come here, please.” she spoke softly though her hand was squeezing Drake channelling every ounce of fear in her, to him.

Liam watched from the upper steps, MC by his side. Knowing Olivia’s short temper he feared for how this would go. No speech about history could save her from attacking a Cordonian.

The woman followed directions and stepped to the front of the crowd. The sounds around her quieting as people wondered what would happen next.

“What is your name?” Olivia questioned quickly.

“Melissa” the woman responded.

“What was your brothers name?” Olivia continued

“Aaron” Melissa answered with anger, “He worked in the Cordonian Apple fields, he wasn’t fortunate enough to escape the fire your family started.”

Olivia never broke eye contact with Melissa, but her eyes did sadden. “I can not replace what you lost” Olivia began “My heart aches for you and your family. I take responsibility for what my family made of yours. But it stops with me, the tears in Cordonia caused by my family end now. I am so sorry for the pain I brought to you, but I will spend every hour of the rest of my life showing you, and everyone here that your families mean more to me than mine ever did. Your King will be in touch with you, Melissa” Olivia nodded before quickly dragging Drake away from the press. Still in eyesight of Liam and MC, they took a few steps back to let the ceremony begin. Olivia wanted so badly to go back inside, to be alone forget everything that had and would happen next. “Liv” Drake whispered, “that was good, really good” he seemed shocked, though he hoped he could reassure her. He knew this day was only just beginning to be hard on her.

Liam looked to MC and gave her a nod, releasing her hand as she approached the crowd. “To all our guests, no matter where you are from, we welcome you” she pauses with a smile for photos. “Before your King speaks with you we want to announce some exciting news. Please join me in welcoming my dearest friends Maxwell Beaumont and Hana Lee” MC had gotten used to how fake she’s have to be with people these days. Here she was announcing to a crowd of people an engagement she wanted no part of. MC fell back inline with Liam and shot a caring glance to Olivia. Though her composure was stern, MC could almost feel the anxiety flowing off of the red head behind her. By the time she pulled her attention from Olivia she realized she was missing the announcement.

“Joining the Beaumont and Lee families will be the honor of a lifetime. We’ve remained allies for years but now we can celebrate the love, freedom and support that will come from the joining of houses” Maxwell explains to the crowd. Joining his hand in Hana’s they step aside and allow Liam to begin.

The pages and pages of drafted speeches he’d been reading were all out the window now. He’d need to be solid in what he was saying. He started with a welcome, celebrating the birthday of Cordonia and everyone who has made this land into what it is today. He delicately used this as a segway to introduce Olivia. The two of them spoke together as if their words were dancing a smooth ballet. The stories of their families history they’d practiced only a day before in the early morning were articulated with genuine amazement. The crowd began to receive Olivia in exactly the way that Liam wanted them too. He was stern with his people, making it clear that Olivia was going to play part in Cordonia’s history from here on out, regardless of peoples opinions.

When Liam finished it became time for Olivia to speak freely. She straightened her stance filling with falsified confidence.

“Elizabeth Rhys” she stammered “Elizabeth, she was the greatest Queen any country has ever seen, and that is because she ruled with only kindness. But when her family, or her boarders were threatened she stood up for them. I can only imagine how differently the past few years would have been with her around. I’d like to quickly share a story of the compassion Elizabeth gave me.” As Olivia began speaking again, her words painted and image so real, it was frightening.

“You two will be married, the Duke and Duchess of both Cordonia and Lythikos” Olivia’s mother announced to the young boy and girl.

“Married?” Liam, almost 10 years old now questioned. “To Olivia?” he added almost disgusted with the thought of it.

“Like it’s so horrible?” Olivia sneered. It was only that morning that the two of them were playing in the snow together. Now their futures seemed to complicated.

Elizabeth stood by watching the reaction of her son, “Liam, apologize” she ordered. You always knew when the Queen was commanding something because her voice was stern, and harsh. It was so different than it was normally.

“Sorry Olivia, it’s just… you’re like my sister” he shrugged.

Elizabeth lowered herself down to look her son in the eye before speaking. “Liam, Olivia is your best friend is she not?” Elizabeth smiled toward the young girl waiting for her sons nod of approval only moments later. “She is smart, kind, beautiful and she knows your heart” she continued, “who else knows your heart?” she asked her son.

“Only you and father.” Liam answered his mother

“Olivia, will protect your heart Liam, because I know that you would protect hers. No matter what happens Liam you must always protect Olivia, do you understand” Elizabeths voice turned harsh at the end.

“Of course mother” Liam nodded, though his young mind couldn’t quite grasp that his best friend would one day be, his wife.

Elizabeth turned her gaze to Olivia, “And you must promise me darling, that you’ll look after Liam” Elizabeth’s voice caught, and while they didn’t know why at the time tears filled her eyes. “When I can’t be there anymore, one day far from now when his father can’t be there either it will be up to you. Will you protect him?” she asked fighting back the water pooling in her eyelids.

“Of course” Olivia nodded.

“Thank you” Elizabeth kissed the girls forehead before sending the two children off to play.

“Elizabeth knew then that she was dying, she knew she only had so much time left and yet she took the time to speak to me with respect and love that my own mother had never shown me.” Olivia explained to the large crowd. “As I mentioned before, MC is the one and the same with Elizabeth, and while 10 year old me would have been so disappointed, MC is the queen you deserved. But please” Olivia paused looking at the listening faces of the crowd, she couldn’t get a good read on what they thought of her, so she continued hiding her fear. “Please, let me be the Duchess that Elizabeth always believed I could be.” Olivia finished and the crowd stayed silent as she walked away.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught the woman she’d spoke with earlier begin to clap. Melissa, a woman who had lost everything at the hands of a Nevrakis was now cheering for one and the entire crowd joined in.

Liam watched the joy from the crowd as Olivia found her way back to Drake’s side. And for a moment Liam thought of the three of them as children playing on this same field. As he turned to take in his surroundings he swore he could almost she his mother standing on the balcony above them.

#the royal romance #choices #choices fan fiction #king liam #liam rhys #liam x mc #drake x olivia #xoempine

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dcpdruse · 5 years

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This is Deputy Macalino from the DCPD to update you on the investigation on Suarez’s death. This investigation has been slow, difficult, and extremely time consuming, but we are reporting to reveal the latest details about the case. DCPD has discovered new evidence that has pushed us closer to the truth of what happened the night of Suarez’s murder.

Let’s start with the recent breakthroughs on the case. We are elated to announce that Suarez’s body has been located and retrieved, after having previously gone missing. It was found buried deep outside the perimeter of All Star Comics and Games in a vault of ice. Authorities will continue to investigate why the body was placed in this location and the theft’s purpose, while the coroner will work quickly to uncover the remaining details about Suarez’s death.

Onto the facts about the case. We believe that the scene of the crime was not actually Suarez’s office on the 22nd floor, but a different location altogether. Under consultation of Criminologist Remington, we have deduced that the location of the murder was not in fact the office. Instead, luminol testing has unveiled that trace blood was found in the stairwell leading up to the 22nd floor, indicating new possibilities for the scene of the crime. In fact, there are four possible locations for which blood of the deceased has been found:

The stairwell of the 19th floor, where a trace pool of blood was found under luminol testing.

The janitor’s closet on the 1st floor, where blood was found on the mop.

The freezer room in the basement, where a pool of blood was found against the end of the vault door.

The kitchen on the 2nd floor, where a cart found on the 15th floor that originates from the kitchen contains traces of blood found under luminol testing. Alternatively, the 15th floor outside Suite 1532 where the cart was found could also quality as the site of murder.

The women’s restroom on the 3rd floor, outside the Gala, where blood was revealed under luminol testing in the rim of a toilet in one of the stalls.

With this newfound evidence, police have began investigating these locations and individuals who were in the area at the time. Given the time that would be needed to transport Suarez’s body up towards his office, we speculate that the murder could have happened any time during the Gala, therefore increasing the suspect list tenfold. We highly encourage that you report anyone that could have been in these locations during the Gala.

DCPD stands by its original assertion that the murder weapon was indeed a dagger in a homicide case. That is, given that the scene of the crime is a completely different location, it would be impossible for the victim to have travelled to his office without extensive blood loss and die by suicide.

With the cooperation of Detective Remington after determining a correct autopsy and location, we will be one step to solving this case. We anticipate that this case may be wrapped up as early as next week, though we ask all citizens to continue to cooperate with us as necessary.

The following individuals have been suspected and will need to be taken in for further questioning. Previous suspects, unless listed, are not considered suspects.

LILLA GILLIAM. We strongly believe that Gilliam was located somewhere at the Gala but are unable to pinpoint exactly where. As such, as police have whittled down suspects, we have decided to add Gilliam to the list because of the ambiguous and nebulous time frame that Gilliam has presented to us. We are currently reviewing security footage to verify her alibi. Of all of our suspects, we have reason to think that Gilliam may have the least connections with the case, but are unsure given that we found a document in his office with her name on it.

NICHOLAS NOVAK. We can confirm nor deny that Nicholas Novak has personal connection to Nicholas Cage, for the record. Officer Paul is an avid fan of Justin Bartha and long anticipates a sequel in the series. We suspect that Novak may be tied to some of the recent deaths in Diamond City. Unfortunately, with the majority of our workforce still working on solving this case, we are unable to investigate his connection more than we would like. We will say this: while there is an astounding lack of evidence, the police have determined that Novak warrants another look.

HUGO BERGMAN-RYU. The son of esteemed Silas Bergman-Ryu has come under suspicion. A witness statement from one of the security guards, as well as another onlooker, revealed that Bergman-Ryu had travelled to the 22nd floor around the time of the murder. While police have determined that this location is not the scene of the crime, it places Bergman-Ryu within the timeframe of when the body was moved to the office.

RIDLEY SHAW. We are aware that the Shaw family’s personal funds were extorted, and that evidence unveiled in Suarez’s office strongly indicate that he was one of the guilty parties. Due to this, we offer that Shaw may have the strongest mens rea to enact revenge. Given her ability to create portals, it would not be impossible for her to enter the Heroes Union. With such a precarious power, we would need to investigate the matters a little more closely. Still, there is a lack of tried and true evidence to prove Shaw’s culpability.

CLARICE GRAVES. Detective remain divided on whether Clarice may be a viable suspect. We have learned that Graves works as a private investigator and may or may not be responsible for uncovering and/or destroying a laboratory in Suarez’s possession. That is unclear. What experts remain divided upon is whether her power of Invisibility may have allowed her to slip in at any point during the Gala. While we think this is highly unlikely, we need to continue our previous assertions given that the scene of the murder has now changed.

CLEO RAJA. Raja is not a prime suspect on our list, but with how skeletal her statement was we decided that further questioning may be necessary. Specifically, we understand that Raja may be connected to the Underground, but have not investigated the matter yet.

PATRICK WOODS. We are extremely suspicious of Woods’s alibi given that he did not show up for a follow-up interview and has the ability to fuse with other mutants and humans. It is likely that, if Woods is the murderer, then he either has an accomplice or possessed someone to carry out his plans. Recently, we found a document in Suarez’s office that might put him in connection with the Underground. We have sent officers to seize the laboratory that he works at, but have not had any luck locating the facility. We cannot detain Woods at the moment without further investigation and testimony. However, a warrant has been put out on his name. If you see him, please call authorities immediately.

ROWAN OAKREST. Oakrest has nothing to do with the Gala. However, we have reason to believe that Oakrest may be connected to Suarez’s disappearance from the morgue. Given that he possesses the power to manipulate ice, along with the fact that the body was discovered in proximity to his workplace, we highly suspect that Oakrest could have been involved in such a ploy to abduct Suarez’s body. Authorities are now investigating this location.

As such, DCPD thanks the good citizens for their compliance in helping us to solve this case. We know that the events surrounding his murder may go down infamously in history, and we hope to recuperate and repatriate all necessary justice to the appropriate parties.

We are in the penultimate stage before we reveal who Raúl Suarez’s killer/co-killer is. By the next DCPD post, we will also reveal a plot twist in the case that will shake things up!

To prepare for this, please answer the following questions OOC to any length you desire. Please tag your statements with #ruse:statement003.

Where truly was your character during the Gala? If you so please, you can trace their involvement in the Gala by using our Gala page as a reference. If they did not attend, where were they and what were they doing? Why did they attend / or why did they not?

Is your character the murderer? If so, why did they murder Raúl Suarez? We will collect these responses to determine his killer/co-killers, so if you’d like for your character to be the murderer elaborate a little bit on what they would gain or why they would do it.

If your character was the murderer, how would they have covered their tracks? Feel free to make up different ways they have concealed evidence, murdered people, or strategically avoided authorities and/or law enforcement. You can make up anything you’d like, such as falsify evidence, led authorities astray, powers, etc.

#ruse:pd #ruse:plot #murder cw #blood cw #weapon cw

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cyrelia-j · 6 years

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[Drabble] This Lesson Is... (Garak/Bashir/Parmak)

Thanks to @ladyvean for putting this idea in my head :P

From this original post HERE

Though not an official prompt, I kinda took i as such and so here we have:

OT3 "This slut is perfection"

Summary: Julian loves Parmak's accent and is especially enthused about Parmak deciding to learn English

It took Julian a while to notice. It may have even been months into his Cardassian linguistics studies, but once he noticed it, he couldn’t stop noticing it. The reason being was that it was in a word: adorable. He had first made the observation to Garak while they were sitting in the living room going over one of his more recent lessons. It was fascinating how his enhancements gave him a decided advantage in the field of medicine but didn’t quite gift those benefits to other areas: Languages being one of them. Well, perhaps he was able to retain vocabulary more easily but pronunciation and accents were a bit trickier than most things he’d tackled in his life. Garak still assured his “fragile augment ego” that his Kardasi like everything else was progressing at a marvelous rate.

“Does Kelas have an accent?”

Julian had asked the question in English, not quite sure if it was the sort of thing one would want others to notice. Garak had at first feigned ignorance, asking why Julian would think that. He even suggested that perhaps it was Julian mishearing or misunderstanding a word that he spoke. At first, Julian second guessed himself and let the subject drop. It wasn’t until he progressed a few more months along that he noticed that no, he was quite correct the first time. Parmak definitely had a distinct way of speaking that he’d never noticed before through the translator. They still relied on them for a great deal of communication but he was finding it less and less necessary than he had when he first arrived. He’d be quite happy getting rid of them all together, his Kardasi and Garak’s English narrowing in proficiency gap.

“Alright, I know I’m not imagining it now, he definitely has an accent.”

Julian made this assertion to Garak’s pained expression in response. Upon seeing that expression, Julian wasn’t sure that he really ought to press the matter. It didn’t take a genius to realize that certain cultures, certain languages, accents, faced all sorts of ridicule and censure across the galaxy. So he cleared his throat, sparing a glance down the hall before lowering his voice just a touch.

“If he’d rather I didn’t say anything about it I won’t I just-”

“He’s from Nokar,” Garak said with a shrug as if that should explain everything well enough. Unlike his usual penchant for conversation, he seemed little inclined to elaborate further, and when Parmak returned with a brilliant cold concoction of lemonade made with local sunberries that had a similar taste to tart raspberries, Julian decided he’d just have to look into it on his own.

Garak can be protective when it comes to Parmak though it’s hardly warranted. Parmak is far more resilient than Garak gives him credit for at times and it’s Parmak himself who volunteers the rather ignorant stigma of “Northerners” - that is those hailing from Nokar and Kraness - as being less civilized and cultured. Having lived with both Parmak and Garak since his settling on Cardassia Prime, Julian couldn’t think of a stupider sentiment but Parmak lets him know that he’s long grown used to it and as such tries to hide it as best as he can when he speaks. It’s then that Julian tells him he noticed it because he finds it charming. Parmak’s words have a melody to them. They flow together like a warm current and now that Julian can listen to him without the translator he can appreciate the faint “tsu” when he says “tud”, the extra run together of words, the “sya’s” and “kya’s” and sometimes - much to a bit of Garak’s jealousy - he’ll ask if Parmak won’t mind reading to him out of one of the older epic odes Garak’s always banging on about.

Garak complains that Julian doesn’t have a care for the art otherwise but he doesn’t quite know how to explain that listening to Parmak read at times allows him to close his eyes and remember once when he’d had a chance to hear a live reading from the Quran. The words had a similar music to them, but Parmak’s voice is softer, a little higher in pitch and Julian really does love his natural voice without the filter. He explained it to Garak as best as he could in Kardasi before having to switch back to English, finding with a bit of poorly concealed fondness under Garak’s token indignation admitting that he too was quite enchanted with Parmak’s voice. “Of course that’s not to say that I don’t adore your cultured cadence speaking filthy things to me all enunciated and sexy,” Julian had assured him. There are also times when in a certain mood a particular whisper or speak of Julian’s name with that accent will makes his toes curl and his breath pick up. Parmak says his name with an extra affected syllable- a soft “Jiu-lian” that makes him dying to hear other things he might say in English.

Parmak is bemused but he decides it would be a fun adventure to learn English as well.

As far as Julian knows Parmak doesn’t have any special genetic gifts or enhancements. As a matter of fact, he told Julian a short time after their initial acquaintance that his white hair and stoop weren’t the result of age - though it turned out at a hundred and ten he was older than Julian had imagined - but rather congenital as were the slight pink of his eyes and faint violet tint to his skin, and his poor eyesight. Another uneducated Northerner slander was the accusation of inbreeding and those traits have never done him any favors in that assumption either. Parmak was sure if he hadn’t been fostered by an old respected Southern doctor he may very well have never been able to become a doctor himself. But his mind, Julian found was as sharp and quick a study as anyone he’d encountered in his field, Parmak sometimes making jumps in his thought train that astounded even Julian. He isn’t sure how well that will translate to languages but Julian observes over the course of the next few weeks that it goes quite well.

“This is a table. That is a window.” It doesn’t take him too long to pronounce simple sentences, though his accent is far stronger than Garak’s. Julian can tell the Nokaran influence is much more difficult to account for in the foreign tongue where Parmak isn’t sure what corrections need to be made. It sounds more like he says “Zis-es a tabel. Zat-es a windsoe.” Julian is sure that it’s some poor reflection of his character that he finds Parmak’s accent darling, watching him study carefully bent over a PADD each night, pushing his slipping spectacles up his face. Garak has taken to helping him practice as well, though Julian notices that their practices often divulge into heated hissing contests and inevitably a delay in dinner which Julian hardly objects to being treated to - an occasionally invited to join in - a rather heated show and Garak sandwich.

“This rug is red. This flower is yellow.”

“This soup is warm. That glass is cool.”

Julian often comes into the living room to find Parmak looking for things to describe during his lessons and always delights in thinking of new ways to describe him and Garak.

“This boy is sweet,” he says to Julian making him grin dumbly.

“This man is handsome,” he says to Garak who smiles in turn and compliments his good taste. Julian asks why he’s a boy and Garak is a man when Parmak gives him one of those sweet but naughty little Parmak smiles and pushes his glasses back up on his face. Garak raises his PADD a little higher to hide the smirk.

“You’re incorrigible, both of you,” Julian declares, sitting next to Parmak on the sofa with a huff.

“Then don’t encourage me!” Parmak exclaims quite pleased with the rejoinder Garak has taught him. Julian resists the queen mother of all eye rolls as Garak makes some suspicious snerk from behind the PADD once more.

“Ha,” Julian says rubbing his forehead against Parmak’s shoulder. “So has Garak taught you any other useful phrases?” Julian asks in English, not sure if that’s too complex for Parmak to understand.

He thinks a moment before sighing and answering in Kardasi.

“No, but I have been picking up a few things on my own from some of our human colleagues.” Julian isn’t sure whether or not to be intrigued or concerned as Parmak clears his throat and sits up a bit indicating Garak proudly.

“This slut,” he declares beaming at Garak like the sun itself, “is perfection.”

Julian and Garak meet eyes in that moment and war silently over who gets the unenviable tasks of correcting him.

In the end they decide to just leave it alone; Julian officially being “sweet boy” and Garak being “perfect slut”.

#star trek ds9 #star trek deep space nine #ds9 fanfic #ot3 #Garak/Bashir/Parmak #Julian Bashir #Kelas Parmak #Elim Garak #fluff #random drabble #Parmak is too cute #fanfic #cyrelia-j

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