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#I feel like I still learned from it so it’s worth the personal humiliation from not being perfect at everything from the first try
gaymersasuke · 2 years
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mwah
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toournextadventure · 6 months
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everyone but her pt.36
Summary: It's the new year and you're determined to start it off better than the last. But really, how smooth could it go when you associate with an Addams and her group of Outcasts?
Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: swearing, mental instability, mental illness, grieving, murder Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)
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“How was your new year?” Mama Weems asked. “Do anything exciting with the group?”
“We did “exciting” last year and have been suffering for it ever since,” you said. “We stayed in and played Jackbox Games.”
If you had been sitting across the table from her, like a normal person would, you would have seen her smile over the lip of her coffee cup. But you weren’t a normal person, and you weren’t sitting across the table. No, you were sitting right beside her, so close that you could feel the warmth from her side. A warmth that you didn’t really get from anyone else.
Not that it was Wednesday’s fault, of course. She was just… a little cold-blooded. And she had the audacity to get stingy with her kisses around this time of year.  Which was rude, honestly, and partially why you had ditched her to hang out with Mama Weems instead. It definitely wasn’t because she was hanging out with Enid.
“How have you been, darling?” Mama Weems asked. Her arm felt nice wrapped around your shoulders. “Truthfully.”
Don’t admit to anything, the voice in the back of your head practically growled. If there was anything you hated, it was that stupid voice. Never leaving, somehow always chiming in when you didn’t want it to. There really wasn’t anything about it that made you feel it was necessary. Or even wanted. Why couldn’t it just let you make your own decisions?
“I’m tired,” you said in a soft voice. Humiliating. “I just want things to go back to how they were.”
Mama Weems’ pulled you the miniscule distance closer. She wasn’t as warm as Enid, but no one was as warm as Enid. It didn’t change much, warm was warm. And you had been feeling so very cold lately. Not the kind of cold that could be fixed with a blanket and someone to hold, but a cold that reached into your soul and refused to let go.
A coward. That damned voice was getting more and more demanding. More vicious. It was almost clawing at the back of your mind, gauging ravines into your brain and devouring anything in its way. Like a feral beast trapped in a cage, desperate to escape.
Wow. That was almost poetic. Maybe Wednesday was rubbing off on you.
“I wish I could say it was all part of growing up,” Mama Weems said, bringing you back to the situation at hand. Right. Coffee.  “But I wouldn’t wish to diminish your experiences with a simple solution.”
She shouldn’t impart such wise words. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want wise words, you just wanted a hug. A warm hug that was a little too nice and that could make you forget about everything just for a few seconds. Hugs weren’t exactly Wednesday’s thing, even though she tried. Oh she tried, the sweet thing, but you couldn’t make her uncomfortable for something that wouldn’t even fix anything.
“How has therapy been going?” She asked. “Has it been helping?”
“A bit,” you said with a nod.
It wasn’t a lie; it really was helping a bit. Shaun was nice, you supposed. And he at least outwardly seemed to care, so that was nice too. And you were even starting to learn to open up! Okay, not a lot and it was still an uphill battle, but you had told Wednesday two things about your parents. Oh yeah. You were making progress.
Except.
“Really need him after the holidays,” you said softly.
The holidays themselves were fine. You weren’t necessarily the biggest fan of Christmas, but you enjoyed spending the time with your family. And Wednesday, but spending time with her was a given. No, you wouldn’t deny that the holiday time was something worth interrupting your routine for.
It was the murder.
If no one had turned on the news that Christmas morning, you never would have known. You weren’t even sure who had actually done it, if they had even done it on purpose in the first place. All you remembered was you had all been getting ready to play No Mercy Uno, and the TV was on.
Murder on the Polar Express. That was the dumb title the news station had written on the little banner on the bottom of the screen. A title that had nothing to do with the grisly murder of some poor college girl in DC. Some girl that was apparently associated with Kristi, because she was the one who had come forward for the press release.
There was no proof that it had anything to do with you. No proof at all, in any direction. But you would admit, it was starting to get creepy. First Mr. Hart and then this new girl? You had plenty of reasons to hate Marcus and Kristi, but that didn’t mean you wanted anyone to get hurt.
You like when they suffer, the voice in your head had growled when Kristi let a tear slip. Probably fake, but you couldn’t prove it.
“Are you seeing him again soon?” Mama Weems asked.
Right. You were at the cafe. You really needed to stop letting yourself get carried away, it was starting to make you think that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to lose your mind.
“I need to,” you said with a sigh.
“I’m proud of you,” she said softly, pulling you tighter and pressing a feather-light kiss on the top of your head.
Now that was worth coming back to the present for.
—---
“Would you consider me mentally unstable?” You asked as you expertly flipped the pancake in the skillet. Maybe you should be a chef.
“Of course,” Yoko answered without hesitation.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” you emphasised, “I was asking Wednesday.”
“Then be more specific next time,” she said.
You grumbled, but supposed she was right. It’s what you got for inviting the trio over for breakfast. That was what happened when you didn’t listen to Wednesday. She had warned you not to invite them. Sure, it was because she just didn’t want to put up with anyone, but still! Maybe your girlfriend was always right!
Not that you would tell her. You couldn’t have her getting a big head.
“Do you have reason to believe you’re mentally unstable?” Wednesday asked as she appeared beside you. Back at Nevermore, her silent movements would have scared you. But not anymore, you were a professional now.
You shrugged. “I guess not.”
“Then no,” she said, holding the plate out for you to finish sliding the last remaining pancake onto the rather impressive tower.
“Don’t say it,” you heard Divina whisper when you and Wednesday walked over to the table where the three were sitting patiently.
Well. Except for Enid.
“Damn Wednesday,” Yoko said anyway, “Big Bird has turned you soft.”
“Yoko,” Enid and Divina scolded simultaneously.
“I’ll give you one chance to repeat that belief,” Wednesday said. Her glare at the vampire was phenomenal. Fuck, you loved her.
Yoko looked at Wednesday. “These look delicious,” she said instead, instantly grabbing food from the plates laid out on the table.
“Coward,” Divina chuckled lightly.
“You try shit talking the goth girl over there,” Yoko whispered back.
“I believe Enid is the only one of you that has any survival skills,” Wednesday said.
Everyone looked over to the pup, and you had to do your best not to laugh at her. Even though everyone had only gotten settled not even two minutes ago, Enid was already finishing off her third pancake and was in the process of grabbing more. The berries had been haphazardly pushed to the side of her plate, and all the bacon and sausage had not-so-mysteriously disappeared.
It was a good thing you still had plenty of batter. This might end up being only Enid’s breakfast.
The woman herself froze after realising everyone was looking at her. “Did you guys want some?” She asked with her mouth full.
“Eat away, E,” you said with a quiet laugh. “I can always make more.”
She just smiled - as best she could with a dry pancake nearly to her lips - before continuing to tear into the food. Everyone else was quick to follow, though they all managed to be a little more… civilised. Or they did. You struggled to maintain much more composure than Enid. Thank gods you made the both of you some protein pancakes so it wasn’t another breakfast massacre.
As much as you knew Wednesday loved to gripe and complain about having people over, it was easy to tell she loved it. There was no overt way to notice, and truthfully you weren’t even sure if Enid would know. But it was there. In her small outward complaints about what everyone was doing, even though you had never seen her hands so relaxed. In the open judgement of everyone’s opinions while that furrow of her brows all but disappeared. In the comfort of her willingly holding your hand and letting it rest on the table where everyone could see.
It was nice. Not anything extravagant, nothing that most would consider memorable, but for you? The mundane feeling of it all? It was one of the best moments of your life. Your family was all together in one spot, you were all just existing and it was perfect. No worries, no cares, nothing amiss. A perfect morning.
It’s going to come crashing down, the voice said.
You looked down at your plate and refused to look up. The pressure in your head left a fuzzy haze around the edge of your vision. But you knew better. Nothing could get you to look back up at the carnage that you would undoubtedly see. It was like a filter, covering everyone in blood and gore, setting the scene of a bloody massacre that wasn’t even real.
Something cold rested on your thigh; one of the few times you were thankful that Wednesday naturally ran cooler than most. The smallest change in temperature, even for just a moment, had the fog dissipating and the almost inaudible rumbling fading back into nothing.
“Breathe,” Wednesday whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure the werewolf and vampire senses could hear it.
Her thumb rubbed against your knee. A constant, feather-light touch that would have been infuriating in any other sense. But when it was drawing you back down to earth, it was a godsend. Something to focus on. Even just the sight of her shiny black nails kept you grounded.
“Good girl,” Wednesday said with a light squeeze to your thigh.
You almost wished she would have left you in that mental hellscape, because you knew everyone else had heard that phrase.
“Don’t,” Divina said, and you looked up just in time to see Yoko’s shit-eating grin.
“Why am I not surprised?” Yoko asked anyway.
“I hope you enjoyed breakfast,” Wednesday started.
“Because you’re never getting invited again,” you finished.
“Can I still come?” Enid asked.
“Yeah, don’t make us suffer because she can’t shut up,” Divina chimed in, still taking her time in eating her breakfast. Which… you supposed everyone else was too, aside from you and Enid.
“You’re both throwing me under the bus?” Yoko asked incredulously.
“Seems they have some common sense,” Wednesday said before taking a sip of her coffee that you couldn’t guarantee was still hot. The slight grimace on her face gave you the answer.
“You two can still come,” you said as you stood up and grabbed the coffee pot. “It would be lonely without a bit of company.”
“Wednesday isn’t enough for you?” Yoko asked.
You glared at her while pouring the coffee into Wednesday’s mug. Then Enid’s, then Divina’s. You purposefully ignored the mug Yoko held out for you, and you didn’t feel the least bit sorry for it. If she wanted to be a dick, you were going to treat her like the nuisance she really was.
“Keep your girl in line, you two,” you said with a raised brow before standing up, grabbing empty plates to take to the sink. “I’d hate to see Wednesday end her bloodline.”
“It would be the wisest option,” Wednesday agreed. A few more plates clinked against each other before she appeared beside you, carefully placing the small pile of plates into the sink.
“Can your bloodline end like that?” Divina whispered from the table.
“Shut up,” Yoko whispered back, “you’re both leaving me to Wednesday!”
Divina laughed.
“Enid, help me out here.”
“Huh?” You heard Enid mumble around what was probably another pancake. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”
You did your best not to laugh at the bickering continuing behind you. From your peripheral, you could see Wednesday was in the same boat. Not that she laughed aloud, but you could see the smallest uptick of the corner of her mouth. Most of the time she would try to hide it, but she wasn’t even trying even as she got started on assisting with the dishes.
And by god did you fall just a little more in love.
The rest of the morning went by quickly. Not that anyone really had any plans aside from hanging out. Kent and Ajax popped by to bring some of the veggies from their little in-apartment garden. As usual, Wednesday was severely disappointed that they weren’t poisonous. You made a mental note to ask her mom for dangerous plant advice.
“If you feel concerned about your stability,” Wednesday said after everyone was gone and you had both laid on the couch, “you should go meet with Shaun.”
You sighed. “I know.” You pulled her closer until you could rest your chin on her shoulder. “I’ll go tomorrow morning.”
“A wise decision,” she said softly. “You can go to coffee with Casey and Devan after.”
You froze. How did she know?
She’s watching you, the voice taunted. She doesn’t trust you.
“They called you over Christmas,” she said, almost as if she could sense your discomfort. “You had not yet decided if you were going or not.”
Right. Right, you remembered that. Of course it was that simple. Something heavy settled in your stomach. Had you really nearly believed that stupid voice that Wednesday, your Wednesday, was spying on you? Why? Why would you trust something that, so far, had said nothing good to you since its appearance?
Wednesday’s cold lips pressed against the inside of your wrist. She had to bend your arm a little awkwardly to do so, but you didn’t care. If it meant you could feel her mouth over that pulse point, you would bend any way she wished. You knew she was sparing with her physical affection, and you were going to enjoy every little moment of it.
“Tomorrow will help,” she whispered against your skin.
Yeah, you thought as you pressed your own kiss to the back of her neck. Tomorrow will help.
—---
It was a lie. It was all a lie. Tomorrow, as you and Wednesday had initially thought, would not help.
You and Wednesday had both fallen asleep on the couch, which was weird enough on its own. Usually, she would wake you both up to move to the bed, even if it was only for an hour or two. But when you both woke up, you were still in the same place you had been the night before. Even the TV was still on the same channel, running some reruns of Star Trek.
Then your phone had been close to dead. Seeing as you had fallen asleep on the couch, you hadn’t plugged it in. When you had finally gotten up, you noticed your phone only had a small bit of battery left. Only enough to set up a time with Casey and Devan, and to call Shaun. Perfect.
“When will you go to the coffee shop?” Wednesday asked as you hopped around the room, trying not to die while you pulled your sweats on.
“My appointment is at nine so… sometime after 10, I guess?” You said.
“How will I know where you are?” Wednesday asked. She placed her hands on your hips to keep you still for a moment. It was nice.
“If I’m not at Shaun’s or the coffee shop, then I’ve been kidnapped or murdered,” you said with a nod. “Exact revenge as necessary.”
Wednesday nodded once before leaning up to press a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. You loved those kisses. They were rare, and they were cold, and they sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to call Shaun and tell him you couldn’t come in anymore. But when Wednesday ushered you out the door, you knew you had to go be an adult, at least for a little while.
And then you had nearly been late to your appointment. Because gods forbid something goes right.
“You’re still frazzled,” Shaun said from his stupid therapist chair.
Yoko had scolded you once for calling it a therapist chair, but she couldn’t argue that it was anything else. It was! It was the long half-chair-half-sofa thing that you thought only belonged in a rich person’s house and was used for nothing but showing off. From looks alone, it wasn’t even comfortable.
“It’s just,” you shrugged, “a lot.”
“Well,” Shaun sighed, “you’ve mentioned your parents, that intern’s murder, and your frustration with the world at large.” He waited until you met his eyes. “Anything else bothering you?”
Everything, you wanted to say. The cruelty of a world that refused to let you rest. Your brother’s ghost that haunted you so irregularly that you may as well consider him nothing but the occasional jumpscare. Knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t actually keep anyone safe.
You’re a coward, the voice said. You will let them all burn in the fires of your mistakes.
Never mind. You knew what to talk about.
“There’s a voice,” you said as you tapped your finger against your temple. “It’s like the devil on your shoulder, except it won’t shut up.”
Shaun tilted his head and shifted in his seat. “A voice?” You nodded. “What does it sound like?”
“The first few times it sounded like Nicky,” you said, as if it wasn’t as terrible of a feeling as it truly was. It was like the words flew right out of your mouth. “Then it was…” you sighed. “Almost him?” You questioned. “But distorted?”
“What does it tell you?” Shaun asked.
“It-”
-Tell him, the voice said. Far too eagerly. Tell him of all the things we talk about. You shivered. Tell him of all the things I show you.
Why was it so eager to be known? How was it going to benefit from being exposed? Now that it wanted you to, you wanted to keep your mouth shut. You were a conspiracy theorist at heart, and Wednesday had given you some useful paranoia, so you could pick out a bad idea from a mile away.
And this now seemed like a very bad idea.
“Just… things,” you said.
Coward.
“What kind of things?”
He sounded too eager. Way too eager. You did your best to hide your “suspicious face,” as Wednesday had called it, before turning around to look at him. Something uncomfortable crawled over your skin when you saw him leaning forward in his chair. Elbows resting on his knees and eyes wide and if you really let your mind go crazy, maybe even the smallest hint of a smile.
Tell him, the voice said. Tell him tell him tell him-
-the little chant in your head continued to speed up, carving the words into your skull. It felt like the incessant words were making your teeth vibrate and your eyes ache. Maybe if you told him, it would stop. You could have some peace and quiet for once.
But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong.
“You should listen to it.”
“What?” You blurted out.
Shaun blinked hard before sitting back in the chair. You knew false relaxation when you saw it. Wednesday had taught you all the tips and tricks of a liar. But this? This was different. That glint in his eyes had disappeared and he almost looked… lost? Like he didn’t know where that had come from.
Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he did. You weren’t sure which answer you would have liked better.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I think I need to cut this short.” He scratched his head hesitantly, now no longer even looking at you. “I’m sorry.”
You nodded but didn’t leave. Did he mean it? Did he really want you to leave? But when he still didn’t look back up and instead let his head fall into his hands, you recognised the position. Hell, you were in it all the time when your brain was overloading. He meant it.
Never again would you say therapy was boring.
—---
Casey and Devan were cool. And you weren’t just saying that because they had bought you your coffee. Although that was also pretty cool, because you had maybe three dollars in your wallet. But now that you could actually just sit and talk with them? It was nice. It reminded you of sitting with Nicky.
They knew stories about Nicky that you hadn’t even remembered. Stories that, most likely, you had never known in the first place. You had known him as your big brother, as your best friend. But really, he had a whole life outside of you. He went on adventures, had two partners, experienced things that you hadn’t been old enough to experience with him.
Part of it hurt; you wouldn’t try to act like it didn’t. It sounded like he was happy. Really, truly, genuinely happy. Why wouldn’t he have told you about any of it? Did he not think you would be happy for him? That you wouldn’t be proud of him for having a life outside of the horrifying upbringing you had both been subjected to?
“You’re gonna leave me just like mom and dad.”
Oh. Right. That was why he hadn’t told you.
But the other part of you was still happy to get to hear the fun things he got to do. To know that he did get to live a fairly normal life. He got to be a teenager, got to grow up and actually enjoy things. He went to movies, went on dates, did fun things without having to worry about things.
Without having to worry about you.
Maybe meeting up with Casey and Devan wasn’t as fun as it originally sounded.
“How’s it going with your girlfriend?” Casey asked. He was the one that did most of the talking, though you had at least finally gotten a few things out of Devan over the course of coffee.
“Good,” you said without hesitation. “It’s going well.”
And it was. Aside from the typical issues with your fucking brain, you couldn’t really ask for more from Wednesday. In public she was still nearly as cold as she had been in Nevermore. Only close enough for people to know the two of you were in the same company. If you hadn’t already agreed to allow her to maintain her scary dog privileges, you would have teased her for the fact that she still stood just a little too close and let her knuckles brush against your thigh.
But in private, it was something entirely different. She still wasn’t incredibly physically loving, which you had known and accepted from the very beginning. No, her love was still something subtle, showing itself in the most subtle of ways. Back in the day, you wouldn’t have thought it would be enough to push past all the beliefs that you would never be loved. But now? No, now you knew it was more than enough; it was exactly what you needed.
“You met her at Nevermore, right?” Casey asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You nodded. “Did you go there?” You asked. “Is that where you met Nicky?”
“Met him at a bookstore,” Devan said. Their gruff voice never failed to surprise you.
“That’s disgustingly cute,” you mumbled before taking a long drink of your coffee. “So you’re Normies?”
Even looking into your cup, you noticed the slightest flinch from Casey.
“We’re shapeshifters,” they said.
“The both of you?” You asked. They nodded. “Haven’t met very many of you.”
“That you know of,” Devan said.
You laughed humourlessly. “Suppose that’s a good point.”
The doors to the little cafe opened, jingling the little bell that hung from the doorframe. You all turned to look to see who was coming in - for no other reason than to be nosey - but your face fell when you saw Wednesday. She looked frazzled; that wasn’t right.
“Wends?” You asked, your head tilting slightly.
She looked around the room, and her shoulders only relaxed after meeting your eyes. But there was still something on her face that you couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t a typical look for her, far more… uptight? Her knuckles were more pale than usual as she practically ran to where you were sitting.
“You’ve been here the whole time?” She asked you, not even paying attention to Casey or Devan on the other side of the table.
“I mean, after my appointment, but yeah,” you said. “Are you okay?”
“You were here?” She asked again. “You left therapy?”
“Yes, Wednesday, I left therapy,” you said. You shifted until you were facing her from your place in the booth. “What happened?”
She hesitated. And it wasn’t like Wednesday to hesitate.
“Wednesday,” you said, a little louder. Not for the whole cafe to hear, but to grab her attention.
It worked.
“Shaun’s receptionist called a few minutes ago,” she said.
You let out an airy chuckle. “If that’s all, it’s probably because my card declined-”
“-They found a foot in his office.”
Oh. So it wasn’t a courtesy call.
“He was fine when I left,” you said softly, not really even speaking to anyone in particular. “Surely no one just… snuck in, right?”
Wednesday didn’t say anything.
Why was she not saying anything?
“Wednesday,” you said. Your tone sounded harsh; you didn’t mean to. “Did she accuse me?”
She didn’t answer, and it finally clicked what the look on her face was.
It was fear.
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r3starttt · 3 months
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Don’t delete the kisses
a/n: I got my inspo from “See You In My 19th Life” also, felt too personal. Basically reader inspired on me lol
Pt 2. | Prt.3 | Prt.4
Warnings: mentions of bullying, suicide, lots of angst and fluff
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“I see the signs of a lifetime, you ‘til I die”
You’ve had seventeen lives so far. You’ve been all kinds of people in all kinds of places, and you always remember each one of them. It always happens for different reasons, it could be a smell that reminded you of a perfume, a new dish that apparently you’ve already tried before, a face that felt familiar, a song that made you feel weirdly in love.
At first it was horrifying, it was so confusing and you made so many mistakes. You told people about it. You tried to find your loved ones, tried to approach to them again because your heart still missed them. But eventually you learned to handle it. Eventually the pain of past life losses disappeared and you just learned to ignore your not so nice gift.
You’ve also learned to adapt to every life, which was becoming easier every time because the knowledge, talents and hobbies from every life apparently stayed with you. Maybe it was your soul?
You stopped having complains and learned to value and enjoy everything. You appreciated every mistake you made because it helped you learn for a future life, you enjoyed feeling everything so deeply because it would help you remember the next time you reincarnate, you showed your love for everyone and did everything you wished so you wouldn’t have any regrets. You learned to be positive and take advantage of everything that was offered to you on each life.
Until now.
Ever since you were a child you’ve felt empty. Loved but not enough to fill your heart, admired but feeling like you’re not worth it, with friends that care for you and a lovely family that provides you all you need and all you could ever ask for but feeling like you don’t deserve them. Maybe you were born sad?
It seems like your whole life happened in the blink of an eye. Maybe it’s the sadness that hasn’t allowed you to enjoy this life properly, but where does that come from?
Maybe you’ve got used to sadness so much that you don’t know how to handle it on this life? It’s frustrating, not even all the knowledge in the world, all the abilities you’ve learned and your old soul can handle such feeling. It’s the first thing you’ve been unable to control, ever.
There is a reason why it got out of control though. When you were eleven you were bullied by your whole class, including some professors. And it didn’t matter how much privilege you had, neither you or your parents could do anything about it.
That’s the moment all the lonely, angry and sad in you became overwhelming, the moment you started to believe in god again just to beg him every day to kill you, to let you die.
And even if that was almost ten years ago it still haunts you. The humiliation, the anger, the loneliness. And you can’t handle it, not because you don’t know how to, but because your body doesn’t allow you to.
Your heart always reminds you of it, like it happens with your past lives, there’s always a smell, a word, an action. The way those kids made you feel, they things those adults said to you, the way your parents broke in tears when you first told them, the awkwardness at home whenever they tried to make you talk to them. It all stuck to you forever.
“What if it’s not meant for me? Love”
However there was someone that was worth trying to live. Her name is Ellie, and you’ve been dating her for some years now.
She’s your childhood best friend, the person you trust the most on this world and the only one that doesn’t make you feel overwhelmed. Your girlfriend and the lover you’ve feel more connected to or all your lives.
“Do you believe in soulmates?” You’re both laying on her bed, staring at the ceiling and talking about random stuff, whatever goes trough your minds “Or…. reincarnation”
“None of them, do you?” you could see her moving her head towards you from the corner of your eye “Yeah, I’d like us to be soulmates and find each other on each life” a chuckle came out of Ellie’s mouth “you’re so cheesy ughh” you laughed back, kicking her shoulder with your arm to which she complained.
“I know but, I’ve never loved someone this much el” you turned your head too, smiling at the look of Ellie’s shy smile and and her slightly tainted cheeks “you’ve really saved my life, you know it” Just as those words were spoken, her face changed completely.
“all good?”
You could see the worry on her face, in the way her eyes studied yours and on the pout that slowly appeared. You just sighed back, hesitating a bit and debating if you should tell her the truth or not.
“It’s probably my birthday, I’ll be fine” the reassurment in your voice didn’t seem to convince her, so you spoke again “el, things have been good in the past few years, it’s not gonna change suddenly”
“What if they do?” she’s right, what if they do?
“They won’t, I would already know and I would tell you, I promise” you do know, but you won’t tell her, not now.
“You tell me to get over it and to take you out, but I can’t and I’m too scared. “
You’ve tried to take your life some years ago, before Ellie and you started to date. Honestly, to this day you still don’t know how you managed to not die. It was late at night, right before your birthday, it always makes you feel extremely sad for some reason, you believe is the fear of growing up, of things getting harder.
“And here’s the night bus, I have to go. And the doors are closing and you’re waving”
You’ve had that feeling for over a month. All your healing process falling apart just for your birthday? you still feel ashamed about it. You just took some random blade you’d saved for this moment and started to practically stab your wrists.
All your thoughts mixed with the weirdly feeling of pain and satisfaction and the blood dripping down your arms blinded you, and in the blink of an eye you just loose the balance and fainted.
But you promised yourself that if you didn’t make it back then, you would try it again, no matter what. Or at least you tried to convince yourself.
“What if it’s not meant for me? Love”
“What are you gonna gift me?” you decided to better change the topic before your thoughts could overwhelm any of you “What do you want?” Her hands tangle with yours.
“You haven’t got me anything yet?” a laugh scapes your mouth “I do but…. I don’t know” Ellie loved handmade gifts, however she always does something different for you. “You know I love your gifts el, you can give me a rock and I would admire it forever”
Your hands slowly move from Ellie’s, cupping her face and making her look at you. She’s so pretty, with the light of the sun coming through the window snd hitting her freckles just perfect, making her eyes look shiny too.
“So you want a rock then?” of course she had to make jokes, she can’t handle romantic moments, gets to nervous. You just roll your eyes.
“You know, a perfect gift would be that you stopped using those crusty converse” she immediately groans, pushing your hands away from her face and leaning on her back
“What’s wrong with them?”
“They smell, they’re broken and they’re dirty as fuck because you never clean them”
“They don’t smell! and I glued them recently”
“Ellie, please”
“But don’t call me by my full name”
“I’m not! And I’ve always called you Ellie”
“No you haven’t, you call me El”
“El, please buy some new converse for my birthday”
“And what do I get for doing it?”
“Your girlfriends happiness”
“I think that’s a sign. I’m losing self control and it’s you”
And that’s how you it was for the rest of the day. Ellie pouting every time you teased her but calling you dramatic if you said anything about her teasing you. Also, Ellie suddenly telling you random facts about dinosaurs and space and just random stuff in general.
That was the las time you saw her, until your birthday. She’d come earlier than anyone else to have more time alone with you. It’s not that you had many friends but your family always came too so they’d keep you busy all day.
A day before you were looking through your closet, finding all the cute gifs Ellie had made you, admiring the details of all her drawings and reading the letters. Watching all the Polaroids your mom took of you two, the gift she made for you when she asked you to be her girlfriend, a bracelet she gifted you when you asked her to be her friend, a letter you made for her from when you first fought.
And it made you feel horrible, because the decision was already made, the letters for all the people you cared about were already written and saved in your desk. Your phone was already unlocked so everyone could have access to it, your room was tidy and your closet clean.
You were just waiting for her, for tomorrow, for all your family to be together when you left so it would be hopefully easier to everyone. For everyone to be there and get their letters, for Ellie to not be alone when she got the news, for your parents and your girlfriend to be comforted by each other’s presence.
You went downstairs, looking for Ellie since you heard your parents already speaking with her. They were all siting at the dining room.
It made your heart melt to see you happy she looked the moment she saw you. Her eyes, her pretty nose scrunching a little, her smile widening.
“Can I see my gift already?” Your parents laughed in disbelief, telling you to at lest greet her properly before asking her about a gift.
“Your parents told me you’ll open them later” she chuckled, looking at your parents and then back at you, you did the same.
You stepped closer to her, grabbing her hands and taking her to your room.
“Can you at least tell me what is it? I’ll act surprised I promise”
“A rock”
“Haha so funny el”
You closed the door behind you, watching Ellie sitting on your bed. She just stared at you, with puppy eyes of course. You really hoped you wouldn’t remember this when you reincarnated, or at least that It wouldn’t hurt as much as it does right now.
“What’s that box?” her finger pointed at the box you were just looking trough last night. You walked towards it and took it to the bed, sitting besides Ellie.
“All your gifts” she looked at you in pure shock “This is something I did for you when we were like…. Seven or something, why’d you still have it?”
“My mom saved all this things, it’s cute isn’t?”
“I feel exposed”
“What’s wrong with it? I love all of it”
“Your gift is not gonna fit in here”
“So it’s not a rock and defined not a new pair or converse” your eyes moved towards Ellie’s shoes, she just sighed
“Stop it, you’re the only one that notices them”
“My parents do, my mom asked my why you never changed them” that was a lie, but how could Ellie know?
You did the same thing as last nigh, take a final look to all the gifts that Ellie had made to you, not now with her. You’d made fun of her and she would just frown her eyebrows and eventually pout if she felt really ashamed of it. You’d make her read the letters out loud and ask her about the process of every draw she’d made of you.
“This letter is for me, why didn’t you give it to me?” Now you understood the feeling, karma. “We fought, I decided it was better to apologize in person” her hands leaned the letter towards you, making you read it out loud just as you’d made her do to you.
“January 13 2020” you stopped as she laughed “don’t laugh, you wanted me to read it I’ll read every detail then”
“I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you mad, I’m still not sure what it was- Ellie, you’re such a dramatic person”
“Me? You’re the one that’s dramatic for making a whole letter even though you hate writing just to randomly apologize”
“This just proves how much I love you, shut up”
“Right, keep reading”
“I’m still not sure what it was, but I feel like apologizing because Dina told me how much you’ve been crying and how awful I made you feel-“ you got interrupted by a loud gasp
“Why would Dina told you?” She slapped her hands on her face, groaning “only fucking fake friends these days” you laughed
“Hey don’t say that! I love Dina, she’s the sweetest and I bet she also tells you all I tell her about you, you’re overreacting for something that happened three years ago”
“You speak about me with her?” You nodded
“I want you to know that I’m so fucking grateful for having someone like you in my life. For a long time you were the only one that made me laugh, the only one that made me feel happy and loved and like life was worth it. You’re the reason I keep trying” you could feel the knot of tears forming in your throat, so painful “I feel like you got mad for what I said, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I wanted you to know how I truly felt about you and us and my life. I didn’t want to lie to you, I can’t. I was hoping you could understand that I didn’t tell you that before because I was afraid of how would you react, because I care for you snd I don’t want you to get hurt just for my weakness-“
The door of the room got opened after some small knocks were heard. Everyone had got there already. You didn’t realize how long you’ve been in your room with Ellie, totally worth it though.
You just saved the letter in the box again. You’ve purposely let it in your room for Ellie to take a look of it later that day, for her to have something left from you.
You both went downstairs again, Ellie went with your friends and you went to greet each family member, having some small talk with everyone and thanking them for being here.
And the time today felt extremely fast. Maybe this was the first birthday you’ve properly enjoyed, maybe you were excited or anxious, maybe it was the calm you’ve felt for the first time in years, maybe-
“I wanna eat the cake already, can’t you hurry them?” Ellie’s hands positioned around your waist, hugging you from behind and pulling you closer to her. You could see her pretty face resting on your shoulder, staring at you.
“You smell like gummies” you smiled without even realizing, now looking at Ellie. Her lips pressed in yours, the sour and sweet flavor invading your tongue “I ate gummies”.
“There’s tons of food El, why don’t you just eat something that’s not candy? Instead of asking for cake that by the way you won’t get to eat” she pinched your stomach slightly “why won’t I get to eat cake?” “I don’t think there’s enough for everyone
“I deserve it more than them, I’ve been with you, listening to your annoying voice every day” now you pinched her back “shut up or you really won’t get any”
“Do we really have to stay here with everyone? Your grandpa freaks me out” you chuckled “stop being rude to my family” “do we?” “let’s go outside”
And so you walked to the small garden behind your house, sitting on the cold grass with Ellie
“You seem happier this year…. do you feel happier?” you can see her toying with her fingers, staring at them to avoid eye contact “are you worried about me?” your gaze is now focused on your family, inside the house. You can see your friends almost eating each other on the closest window, it makes you laugh.
“The letter…. am I really that important to you?”
“You’re my best friend since forever el, you’re my girlfriend, why wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know, I thought I didn’t help you at all”
“You do”
You turned around again, facing Ellie. She was picking the grass. How were you supposed to leave her? How were you supposed to ever live without her?
You grabbed her face with your hands, pulling her closer for a kiss. Her lips felt just perfect for yours, her skin was so soft, her face just the right size for your hands to fit, her hair the right strength for you to feel it every time you two kissed. You couldn’t do this to her
You tried to break the kiss, but her hands moved behind your back, pulling you closer to her again and deepening the kiss. You could feel her smile trough the kiss, she’s so fucking pretty.
“I love you Ellie, I’ve always loved you, don’t ever doubt it” she laughs in confusion “I love you too” It was the third time you probably said it out loud, you really wished you would’ve told her sooner.
“I’m electric, a romantic cliché”
“Take this, I was planning on give it to you later but…. I guess it’s the right time” you looked confused at her, she was looking for something on her hoodie pockets. A rock
Maybe you should wait, just a little more, just for her.
The rock was painted with your favorite colors, it was your face. Why is she so lovely? Why can’t her love fill your heart? What’s wrong with you?
She slowly puts it on your hands, studying your face, looking for any reaction. You lean on her, hugging her as both of your bodies fall on the grass. You can’t see her but she’s definitely smiling.
“I can’t imagine a life without you Ellie, don’t ever dear to leave me” she thought you were just being romantic because of the gift, but you mean it, you hope you fin her always and forever. To hopefully have the life you won’t be able to enjoy with her this time.
Her hands rubbing your back, her nose smelling your perfume, nuzzling on your neck “I won’t, I promise”
“Let’s go for the cake, I can hear your stomach” you rest your arms on the grass, positioning each one besides Ellie’s face and giving her another kiss. Her eyes look so pretty.
The sky turns orange as you get inside the house again. You hate this part of the day because it means it’s almost over, and today specially you want everything but the day to end. You hope every smiley face in the house can forgive you for what you’re about to do, you hope they understand.
So now you’re siting in the middle of the table, with everyone you love around you as they sing happy birthday to you. Ellie is sitting besides you, taking pictures of you. And you can only thank her in a small whisper, and thank the universe in your mind for letting her have that picture as her last memory of you.
The minute the song is over everyone claps, watching you turn off the candle. You always wished for happiness, but today you’re just wishing for forgiveness. Your smile is wide, it hurts to lie to everyone there.
Before your mom cuts the cake for you as she usually did, you grab the knife and cut a big slice of cake for Ellie. “Can we open the gifts?” you ask loudly to everyone, knowing that way your parents wouldn’t make you wait more.
Everyone’s eating cake, sitting on the couches in the living room, most men in the room staring up, Ellie sitting besides you on the floor and offering you to open the gifts to “help you” but you know she’s just gossiping.
Whenever you didn’t like a gift you’d look at Ellie and she’s look back at you, like you could communicate with each other just with your eyes. She’d laugh and pass you another gift.
If you did like a gift then she’d take it from you and would stare at every detail of it. She’d separate discreetly the ones you liked from the ones you didn’t, she’d usually keep those or Insist you on selling them online.
However the more gifts you opened the more anxious you got. “Where’s your gift el?” you whispered as your mom passed you another gift, that seemed to be the last one. But it was way to small to be from Ellie “mine goes last, open that one, come on”
And so you did, it was a set of some pink pijamas, and the moment you opened them you turned your face at Ellie, she was already laughing “Shut up”
“Wait, there one more” you heard your mom speaking as she walked to the kitchen. Everyone looked at her, waiting to see what it was.
She returned with a big rectangular canvas. Did she just made a huge fucking painting for me? you thought, looking back at Ellie who seemed clearly nervous.
“I’ll give you the letter later, I didn’t want to get exposed in front of your whole family” she whispers
You take the canvas and turn it around. It was a portrait of a picture she took of you the day she asked you to date. It was so detailed, so colorful and just so right. You showed it proudly to your family. Everyone cheered Ellie and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her shy face, her cheeks covered in blush as she looked at her fingers, just as she did whenever she felt nervous. Your friends making fun of Ellie and you for being so “adorable” as you heard them say.
And the rest of the night Ellie just stood close to you, listening to everyone share all the fun memories and stories they had with you. She shared ridiculous things she’d lived with you, making you cover your face ashamed. But also making you laugh as she always did.
And you couldn’t be more grateful at the end of the day because finally, for one whole day you could finally be happy again, you didn’t felt pressured or anxious or sad or overwhelmed at all, and you were with everyone you loved. You could finally go, you were just waiting for living one happy moment in your life before you took such an important decision, and this was it. Today had been all you’ve ever wished for.
So when everyone left and your parents stayed cleaning you could only feel peacefulness overcoming your body. You went to your room and laid on your bed, Ellie was still there. She had to give you her letter and you couldn’t leave without reading it.
The big canvas was already in your room, right next to your bed. You were cuddling her as you read the letter.
“Happy birthday baby. I hope this year can be different, I hope you can get better, I hope you can be happier, and I hope I’m still here every day to see you smile more and more.
I remember starting the painting and regretting immediately because it was gonna take so long and I’m lazy as fuck. But I made it :)
I had to lie to you many times and tell you Joel needed my help with some stuff just so I could finish it, hope you didn’t get mad at it.
I’ve been noticing you off lately, but if I’m honest I’m too scared to ask. But you know you can always tell me anything, I’ll always understand and I’ll always listen, no judgment.
I’m proud of you for making it another year, and I’m the happiest person ever because I have you and I’m watching you try again and again. I know you’ll get better.
I still remember how nervous I was when I asked you to date, I can’t stop thinking about it lately, maybe it’s because of the painting? but I feel the same even after dating you for years, too cliche for you make me feel the butterflies on the stomach, a lot.
I’m glad we’ve got to grow up together, I can’t imagine this life without you. The other day you told me about this, about reincarnation and soulmates, I don’t believe on it, but if it’s real I’ll make sure I’m with you always. I promise.
I can’t wait for your birthday, I wanna see your reaction and I’m containing so much for not telling you already what it is. If you’re reading this then I didn’t regret writing you this or you found it without me noticing like you did last year, don’t do that again pls :(
Anyway, I want you to know that you’re the fucking best, the prettiest girl ever and I love you so fucking much.
Ellie :)”
She saw how you folded the letter, looking at your face for any response “I love you so fucking much too” you moved your head slightly up so you could properly kiss her. You’ve never kissed her so much in one day, you also wished you would.
She stares back at you, with those puppy eyes you love so much, and her dumb smile now a bit shiny due to the kiss.
Her hand moves to your neck, pressing your head on top of her chest. Her other hand moved to the puffy pink blanket that you had in your bed, moving it up to cover both of your bodies. Your hand moves on top of of her tattoo, caressing it softly with your thumb.
And before you realize you two fall asleep, not knowing how your life’s were about to change in less than twenty four hours.
Maybe it was the anxiety coming back but you woke up earlier than usual. You slowly removed Ellie’s arms from yours, placing them over your pillows.
You stood there for some minutes, just staring at her, at her gift next to your bed. Were you being selfish?
You slowly walked towards your desk, picking the letters and placing them on top of it so everyone could see them easily, you also placed your phone on top of them. This was it.
You hated yourself for not waiting for Ellie to leave, for making her see it and be there, but you had waited enough already.
You walked quietly and slowly to the bed, placing Ellie’s letter besides her. Then you walked to the bathroom, locking yourself in it just in case anyone woke up and went to look for you.
You regretted not taking your phone with you, maybe some music would help.
You slowly remove your clothes. You hear the water run. There’s so thoughts on your head right now.
You don’t even realize but the cuts are already there, making the blood run all over the tub and covering your body with it. Your eyes close and the only sound echoing in your ears is your own breathing.
This is nothing like what you’ve done before, this is it.
“Dear loved Ellie. El, Els
I love you so much, don’t ever forget it, don’t ever doubt it. I’m always gonna be with you and I promise, I swear that we’ll meet again. Please read this first before you do anything else. I’m probably not in bed right now, I knew you would stay, don’t panic.
Ever since you know me I’ve been sad, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I told you how I remember mas past lives when we were younger, remember? and you just laughed at me, but I want you to believe it this time. And I want you to never forget me, I want you to meet me again, in another universe where I’m happy and we can get to live anything we didn’t lived here.
I waited just for you, I tried my best, I promised myself I would only try once, and if I failed then I would take it as a signal to say, but I can’t.
Your jokes, your laugh, your pretty face, the songs you played for me with your guitar, you made me stay and try so many times, but I gave up.
I can’t live lifte this forever, and it hurts me deeply to leave you, because you don’t deserve this and I don’t want to leave, but the pain I feel every day is bigger than what I want.
It’s not your fault, it’s no one’s fault actually.
You told me that whenever I could say things out loud I should write them, but never keep them just for myself, and so I’m doing it right now, hoping you, Dina, Jesse, my mom, my dad, my family, you all understand. I know you will.
I want you to find someone else to make happy, some one that’s worth your fucking amazing and pretty self, someone else that truly deserves your time and your jokes, and your songs on your guitar. Someone that stays with you forever.
I feel so ashamed, I just couldn’t say to anyone out loud how tired I felt, how badly I wanted to die. How my first and kiss though if the day was death, how exhausted I feel every day for no reason. I can’t tell you that the moment you leave I feel overwhelmed again, I feel weak and alone. I just can’t.
I also wanna thank you for being with me every time, for teaching me how to live, for not giving up on me and for being always with me.
I remember the first time we kissed, the first time we slept with each other, how shy you got after that and how much you wanted to tell me but couldn’t so I found out by reading your diary. How mad you got for me reading it but how much you thanked me once we did it. I remember every single one of our dates. I remember the first time you talked to me and I talked to you, the first time you slept and my house and the first time I slept at yours. I never forgot anything, I won’t ever forget.
I remember how you told me you wanted to go to college just so you could work and make us my dreamed house, with an art studio for both of us and a room to have many cats. How you told me that you didn’t want any kids but since you dated me you could only think of having a cute baby that looked just like me. How you got mad when I told you I wanted my last name to go first.
And I want you to live that with someone that’s really worth it.
I’m so sorry for making you stay with me for so long, for making you waist your best years of adolescence and childhood trying to cure me and my sadness. And I’m sorry I’m leaving you like this. But I know you’ll understand.
Words cannot express how much I adore you, how happy you made me, how much I’m in love with you.
Please forgive me.
I swear we’ll meet again, I swear I won’t leave you again, I swear I’ll stay.”
She woke up your parents, your dad unlocked the door. They couldn’t take it.
Now they didn’t understand. Why would you do this? Why didn’t you tell anyone? Did you ever asked for help and they didn’t notice?
Why?
Ellie was too broken to cry. She wanted to look at you but her eyes could only stay at your wrists. She could never forget.
Your parents were on their knees, unable to think, unable to move, just crying.
And so was Ellie. She couldn’t believe just a couple of hours ago she was cuddling with you and now you were gone. How did that even work? There could never exist something more terrifying that your parents sobs. Should she leave? Should she stay?
Should she even try anymore?
She felt so much anger, so much desperation and anxiety in her body. She was so shocked she couldn’t do anything else than stare.
You were gone, forever.
It’s been just a month since you died. She’s been unable to move from her bed, not wanting to eat, not wanting to sleep, feeling dead. She’s been reading your letter nonstop, over and over again, almost memorizing it already.
And your parents? Your family? They’re all broken, how could any of this even happen?
Your funeral was shocking for everyone. Everything had happened so fast, in less then a week, just right after your birthday.
Did you really had to do this?
Everyone felt so sick, for not knowing, for not saying a proper last goodbye to you, for not giving you a proper gift, for not taking enough pictures and videos of you, for not speaking to you enough that last day. For not noticing snd for not helping you.
And Ellie could only hope that she’ll meet you again as you always assured her. That all this pain will disappear eventually. That the love she feel for you would actually help her.
“Me and you were meant to be in love. I see the signs of a lifetime, you ‘til I die”
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zeyris-escapism · 9 months
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I had just finished reading your bunny darling with Tighnari post and was kinda wondering how Tighnari would react and how his life is going after our poor got Stockholm Syndrome. If you don't wanna write about that, that's fine but I still wanna know how life's going or what if Cyno found out what he did?
About the fox and the rabbit part one:
I actually have a part two planned, but before I manage to write that, I'll simply elaborate it here. Well, in my previous Tighnari oneshot I mentioned Cyno's undying support for Tighnari ;( after all Cyno did say that he's like a brother to him. Oh also some nsfw mentions may occur.
And what's a better way to help a family member by watching over their pet sometimes? Things happen alright, sometimes our ranger is busy and Cyno has to step in.
That's absolutely infuriating however; how could a man like Cyno, the general, someone who usually cares about peoples wellbeing possibly assist in this?
Well, you see; you're just a tiny bunny. You're so irrelevant and really unimportant that it's simply harm reduction :( to Cyno, letting Tighnari take you is better for everyone. It has a few causes, one that he realises just how important mates are for fennecs. They mate for life alright, and Cyno knows well just how melancholic Tighnari will get if the mate is taken away.
I feel like it's worth a mention that Cyno did scold Tighnari somewhat for this, cause he did mate himself to you on his own accord. But what's done is done, and perhaps it's better to let Tighnari have someone to use his feral instincts on.
Another factor coming into Cyno's understanding is also the way Nari portrays you. Like come on it's just a small rabbit. It's weird really; you're a mate, at the same time you're reduced to a house pet. To be loved, pet, squeezed, without real possession over your own body, but still his mate.
A part of Cyno kinds of understand that. Maybe when Tighnari let Cyno take a look at his mate, he made sure you were too fucked out beforehand to be able to protest and show any sign of the slightest inteligence.
He didn't really have to do that to get Cyno on his side though. As shocked as Cyno was to find it out, I think he was the first one to notice the warning signs before you've arrived? And since you're demoted to a level of a house pet in their eyes, he won't mind watching over you when Tighnari is especially busy.
Oh, same with getting away actually. Don't think you'll get far with two hunters on your back; escape is practically impossible, I mean. Running away itself may be easy, but Tighnari will find you. He always does. And if he can't, Cyno is more than willing to help out.
Like I'm sorry, but you're not that important, and if keeping you locked is all it takes to keep Tighnari's hard working, nice and loving ethic to the public eye, Cyno is willing to make that sacrifice.
Enough about them though, what I planned for darling? Aside from the fact I usually write narration as unreliable, that you're dumb, non important, I'll just mention this once. So I don't have to again, I suppose; darling is definitely a smart person. Like, inteligent, on Tighnari's level, imagine that or even above his inteligence. It works all these ways, even if she's very knowledgeable, but slightly less than Tighnari.
All of these are the same infuriating factors that made Nari decide that you learn your place. What's better way to do that than constant humiliation?
He's a fox okay he needs something to get his feelings out on. And you're perfect to grab and toss around and bend and fiddle and undre- we are digressing here. Well, given since reader is indeed not just a dumb bunny, she doesn't bend to his will when he's not home.
I mean he's a scary fox, but when he's gone, you have a clear route of playing your escape. It gives you time to scan the surroundings through the window, gather items, hide them. You aren't a coward usually; but he's a predator after all. You are fully aware he can't kill you due to the bond, but he never mentioned not being able to mutilate you.
He won't do that, but he's scar okay. Your brain will easily convince you that as longest as you stay alive he will be able to mess with your anatomy in any way to keep you there. And so when he finally leaves the house one unfortunate day you manage to slip out. You made sure he didn't lock the doors or the window properly. Whatever you did, you were on the run.
The forest is vast, so your little expedition took a day or so. But you had food, and clothes, you were prepared. In fact you'd be free and already in Fontaine if not someone saying that a suspicious looking traveler is rummaging through the forests.
Once Cyno learned the description of said.. travel. It was up to him to help the man he called his best friend. Perhaps he'd notify Tighnari and let him have the thrill of dealing with you, perhaps he'd grab you by your plush ear and drag you back to Tighnari.
Whatever happened you end up back where you started, and you won't hear the end of it. Oh how worried sick he was, how stupid must you be to run away anymore? You're just a bunny, you're safe here! How he cares about you and other infuriating bs, most importantly he's really mad. And he's not the type of a guy to beat you up even when he's mad? The most you get is being suffocated and railed till you're simply crying.
A part of that is due to the fact that he doesn't want you to keep your brains. Surely if he fucks you hard and well enough you'll understand? ? ? I mean that's how it must be working. If he does that each time before he's gone you'll be docile and sweet and soft like a bunny is supposed to be!
Tighnari didn't really do that as often with you before, so it really did work in keeping you brain-dead after he finally found you again. And since you did have some brains, you were unlikely to develop any attachment to him; then again your intelligence went out of the window the moment he saw you. He's terrifying to put it short, even if you heard people say how sweet and nice he is before.
He himself proved to you just how scary he is, and with him keeping your brain fuzzy for months on end after this endeavour, you're not sure if you don't find yourself slipping in your sanity. Perhaps letting him do these things IS better than having to be constantly on the run !
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gilverrwrites · 27 days
Text
Nothin' Good Starts in a Getaway Van
AN: Flash from the past, literally. I wrote the first draft of this in 2016, and have only recently rediscovered and finished it. If I was writing this from scratch today, I probably wouldn't characterise him like this. I was a different person back then, and it shows, but I’m still down bad for this dirty mf.
Pairing: Captain Boomerang/F!Reader
Rating: 18+
Words: 3.6K
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Content: Swearing, crime, petnames, violence, blood, implied size difference, mysophilia, dubious content, manipulation, biting, hair pulling, vaginal fingering, oral (m receiving), teabagging, rimming (m receiving), name calling, verbal humiliation, dirty talk, tickling, (very brief) public nudity, (very brief) choking, restraining.
Mentions of feces but no actual feces. Reader is a girly-girl who uses the criminal alias Red Rosie, but it’s only mentioned like 1.5 times.
Please remember: Kindness is free, so be kind to yourself 💙
🡡 Please read the content section before proceeding 🡡
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You quietly hum to the beat of the van’s radio, bobbing your head and tapping your fingers against the wheel as you wait for your crew. Eyes on the clock, they were nearly a whole minute overdue, and worry was starting to seep in. Trying not to panic, you force yourself to keep humming along with the music.
The song comes to an end, and the radio hosts start chatting about something or other, probably the weather; you don’t care. Two minutes and forty seconds late, still nothing. Rolling down the window, you stick your head out, peeking back at the jewellery store, searching for signs of life. No alarm buzzing, no lights, no curious on-lookers or police cars. All signs said things were going well, but you couldn’t shake the worried feeling setting into your chest.
Leaning back into the seat, you take a few deep breaths and continue waiting. God, you hate waiting. Just your luck that you’d pull the short straw and get stuck on getaway driving duties. What you would give to be in that store, ransacking shiny jewels and expensive trinkets right now. No, actually,  you’d be in the back of the van, halfway out of the city by now. You might be a daydreamer, and a dawdler, but years of committing crimes in Gotham, henchman-ing for bosses like Two-Face and Penguin had taught you that when you only have a limited time to get stuff done, you get it done on time. Hell, early if you can swing it.
There were no alarm bells going off, no police cars, you reminded yourself, things are going just fine.
Three minutes, thirty-two seconds. Where were th- SLAM
You swing your head around, looking into the back of the van. The new guy, with three full bags of loot, swung over his shoulder, climbed in and slammed the doors behind him. He’s big, not the biggest guy in town, but still, big. You can see the curves of his muscular figure even through his leather duster. New to Gotham anyway. “Captain” Boomerang. He’d already robbed anything worth having in Australia, then Central, now here. Gold star for being the first one back, at least.
“Drive Hon, let's get movin’.” His thick accent was intensified by the shouting. He’s loud, and bossy too. Calls himself a captain, and clearly thinks himself as one too. You’d already caught him shouting orders at the rest of your gang when you’d been plotting this heist. He dropped his bags before climbing into the passenger seat.
“What about everyone else?” You shout back at him. In the past, you would have easily slunk back and let him take charge, not just of the job either, not now. You were a strong woman, you had to be in this line of work. Besides, this was your turf, and that was your gang.
Okay, maybe you shared it with a handful of other Gothamites, but not this fucker. This guy was gonna have to learn that you can’t just walk into this city and act like you own the place. If anything, you’d be doing him a favour. Better you than someone like Ivy or the Joker, or, god forbid, the Bat himself. “Where’s Wyvern? Where’s Pye?”
“They ain't comin’, now put ya foot down before the boys in blue get here.” He demands.
“I ‘ain't’ leaving without P-” Suddenly, a deadweight lands on your foot. You look down to see Boomerang's taped-up boot stomping down on you, forcing the van forward. Panicked, you start steering. The last thing you need is a car crash with multiple millions of dollars worth of stolen goods in the back. “Alright, alright, we’re moving! Get your fat foot off me!”
He doesn’t move at first, not until you’re at the end of the road. You swivel the van around the corner, heading for the bridge, the same route you’d originally planned. One quick glance down at your foot proves you’ll have a nasty bruise there. Briefly, you wonder if you should wear more sensible shoes. Nah. Why do that when you could be wearing perfectly adorable tieks?
“What happened?” You press, glaring over at him for a second before whipping out your phone. “Where is everyone?”
“Ya know, it’s an offence to text and drive.” You fire back nonchalantly, a chuckle lacing his lips. It's enticing, you’ll admit.
“So’s not wearing a seat belt.” You respond. Eyes half on the road, half on your screen.
[To: Pye] [From: RR]
[Where r u??? Left w/ boomerbutt, respond asap xxxxx]
“Guess we’re a couple of wildcards then, aye babe?” He winks at you.
“Don’t call me that. It’s Red Rosie, and don’t try to distract me,” you deadpan. What happened back there? You were nearly four minutes late and alone.”
“What should I call you then?” He asks as if you hadn’t literally just answered that question. Withholding from grinding your teether together, you tried not to shout.
“Red Rosie.”
“Ya know, roses ain't the only things with long stems.” He’s shamelessly amused by his own bad joke, but you feel your cheeks heating up nonetheless. There's just something about his unwavering confidence. You’d never really heard a serious sexual innuendo from anyone.
“Awh, have I rendered you speechless?” He muses as he reaches a knuckle over to stroke your warming cheek. His fingers smell like leather and malt. Unpleasant but Intoxicating.
You open your mouth and stomp your teeth around his finger, not hard enough to take it off, although you could if you wanted, but enough to break the skin, to make him bleed a little. Digger rips his hand away, your teeth grazing the skin more as he pulls it from your lips. You hope it’ll scab. He grips your hair and gives it a good tug in a display of petty revenge. When he’s done, he cradles his wounded finger, puffing out his bottom lip in an obviously fake pout.
“Now that wasn’t very nice pet.” He continues to feign hurt as he presses the finger to his chest. “An to think, I was gonna go 50/50 with ya on this lot.”
“Ha.” You laugh bitterly, sarcastically, blowing a misplaced strand of hair out of your face before continuing. “You should be so lucky. This raid was mine and Pye’s. You were a last-minute addition.”
“Hey now, girly. I did all the work while you just sat pretty in the car.” He barks. “If anythin’ I should be making off with at least 70%, if not more.”
“You’re kidding?” You scoff as you come to the end of the last bridge. Your phone vibrates in your lap, and you pause the conversation to read and respond to the message. “You might have loaded up, but you lost all my guys.”
“Yeah, and? The less there of them, the more reward to m- us.” He states it factually as if it were the simplest thing in the world, but you caught that slip-up. “I say we call it 65/35. Play your cards right, and I might even give ya a 5% tip.”
You briefly close your eyes, calming your temper, and thinking of a plan. Eyeing the road in front of you, you make a diversion, heading towards the farmlands, to emptiness.
“You know what, my fine friend?” You flatter, using your best, innocent smile and batting your lashes at him.
“What?” He questions, biting his lip and eyeing you suspiciously through his thick eyebrows.
“You’re right. I’m being difficult. You’re clearly smarter than I’ve been giving you credit for.” You speak concisely and confidently. Swallowing your pride seems to come easier than you’d expected. “Please do tell. What exactly can I do to get that 5%?”
“I knew you’d come around, pet. Smart girl.” You could feel the smugness spread throughout him. You didn’t need to look at him to know he had a shit-eating grin on his face. A strong hand lands on your inner thigh, and you peek over at him, waiting to see what he does next.
“Firstly;” He leans closer, his mouth ghosting across your cheek. His breath smells even more like beer than his skin did, and something else, something sour, like he hadn’t brushed his teeth in days. “Pull over.”
He points to the side of the dirt road, and you obey, keeping your eyes on the window until you’re fully parked. With the engine turned off, you turn to face him, ignoring the stench of his breath. You look up at him with your best doe eyes. “Secondly?”
A hand returns to your hair, jerking your head back. Before you can react, his lips are on yours, his tongue is in your mouth, exploring every inch. Holding back a gag, you open your mouth wider, allowing him access, occasionally flicking your tongue against his. You reach for the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer, urging him on. You nibble at his tongue, his brows crease in response, but if he dislikes it, he doesn’t make it known. Instead, he pushes his mouth deeper onto yours, you can feel his teeth against yours, even through skin. You’ll both be bruised come tomorrow.
His tongue seems endless, it's almost as big as your mouth, and you can practically feel its tip grazing against your uvula. Briefly, you wonder how good it would feel between your legs. His fat tongue lapping between your lips, against your slit, inside your cunt. No, you stop yourself. Just play along.
You spread your legs apart, shifting out of your seat and climbing over until you're sitting on his thigh. Within seconds his callused hands are between your thighs, skipping your panties, runs his thumb roughly over your clit, and pushes one finger straight into your entrance. You’re impressed by the speed at which he located everything. He pumps until you moan into his mouth. Clearly satisfied with your reaction, he smiles into the kiss before pulling back, both his lips and his fingers.
Hand still fixed in your hair, he yanks you to the side, guiding you toward the back of the van. You take the instruction, climbing over the seats when he releases his grip on you, moaning when he slaps your ass as he follows. “Secondly, get on ya knees.”
 Keeping your composure, you do just that. “Sure thing, Captain.”
“Ohh, I like that.” He groans as he begins working on his belt. “We’ll have more of that.”
“Okay, Captain.” You wink before reaching up, batting his hand away, and undoing his belt and jeans yourself. You’d half expected him to be going commando, he seemed like the type, but you were wrong. Instead, you were greeted by a pair of off-white tighty whities, the band garnished with blue boomerangs. You pulled them down, grinning when Digger's gloriously fat dick sprang free. You had not been expecting that, and you physically couldn’t stop yourself from licking your lips and staring up at him with excitement.
“Like what you see, babe?” He grinned back at you, the tip of his tongue poking out between his crooked teeth.
“I-ye…” You’re at a loss for words, so you nod instead before leaning forward and taking as much of it into your mouth as you could easily fit. The angle was funny, what with the way it curved up, but you pressed on, pushing as far as you could before retreating, then back down, and up, and down, taking more with each motion.
Digger grunts approvingly above you, threading his fingers in your hair once more and pumping his hips forward. You worked in sync, you pushing further and further onto his cock, him pumping it deeper and deeper until your nose presses into the scruff of his pubic hair.
His grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place, allowing him to slip his cock in and out of your mouth, watching you take it, enjoying the tears that form in your eyes when the lack of air started to take effect. When he lessens his grip you jerk back, panting for only a second or two before going back for more. But he halts you, retightening his grip to prevent you from moving any closer.
Confused, you look up at him, he directs your head back down, and lifts his cock up vertically, exposing his balls. Knowing what he wants, you stick your tongue out, running it along the centre of his testes and up his cock, before dropping back down to cup one in your mouth and suck on it before releasing it and swapping to the other, taking breaths between alternations. They’re hairy, sweaty, and smell almost as bad as his breath, but you’re long past caring. Yes, there's an endgame here, but why shouldn’t you enjoy yourself along the way.
“Fuck, yeaahh. Like that.” Digger murmured in much the same way a greasy old man in a porno would. Again, you glide your tongue up and along his cock again before taking it all in one. Digger hold you down, shaking your head at the base of his cock, long enough to make your eyes feel heavy before letting go.
Once more, you only take a few seconds to catch your breath. This time, you don’t look to him for guidance. If he doesn’t like what you have planned, he’ll have to say something, you think as you crawl beneath his open legs and position yourself beneath his ass. You place your hands on his cheeks, spreading them before leaning up and gliding your tongue between the crack.
You can’t conceal that laugh that escapes you when he suddenly shouts “Bonza!” in response to your actions.
His hands shoot up and thread through his reddish locks as you continue swiping your tongue against his ass, when you locate his anus, you push harder until you’re licking at the inside walls of his asshole. You’d worried partly that his ass would be the worst part of him. Hairy, smelly, and shit-stained, but you were pleasantly surprised. He was hairy and smelly, but clearly, he’d given it a good wipe the last time he used the can.
“Fuck.” He breathed, fingers still gripping at his own hair.
“You like that?” You quiz, retracting to ask your question, lick at his balls again as you wait for his response.
“I do!” He exclaims, reaching down and urging you back into his ass. “Just thought I’d have to talk ya into it.”
“Guess you were wrong, Captain.” You reply playful, giving him a teasing lick but still not resuming.
“No kidding. It’s always the ones you least expect.” He responds, equal parts playful and self-righteous. “Look like a princess, fuck like a whore. Ain’t that right?” 
“Awh, you think I’m a princess?” You joke, trying to act like he’d really touched your heart with that one.
“I did. Know I know you’re just a whore. An’ a dirty one at that.” He can’t see your expression as you settle back below his ass. You make like you’re about to start rimming him again, but instead, you bite into his right ass cheek.
“Aye, none of that.” Reaching down, he delivers a hard smack to the back of your head. You ignore the throbbing it causes and dive straight back in, pushing as much of your tongue in as you can before wiggling it back and forth.
As you work, you hear the rustle of his coat above you as he searches his pockets, followed by the unzipping of his underjacket. Soon, both jackets make their way to the floor, leaving him in just his dirtied grey vest and gold chains.
You dart your tongue in and out a few more times before leaning forward and filling your mouth with his balls again, your hand reaching up to grip the base of his cock before pumping it. It only lasts a few moments before you feel his hand around your wrist. He could probably crush it if he squeezed hard enough, not that you wouldn’t make him pay for it.
You release your grip on him, and using your wrist as an anchor, he pulls you forward, hard, releasing midway and causing you to land on your back with a cry. Enthusiastically, you sit up, spreading your legs wide for whatever is to come next, only to look and be greeted with the last thing you’d expected. Big bad Captain Boomerang, standing at nearly 6’1, so tall he had to crouch within the confines of the van, a mess of hair, scars, and golden teeth, all long legs and built biceps, stood before you, clutching a pink unicorn.
For a second, you thought you were dreaming. Had someone left it in the van? Had he picked it up, presuming it was yours, and planned to mock you with it? You looked at him questioningly, waiting for an explanation.
“This is Pinky.” He informs. “He’s my lucky charm. Never get laid without him.”
“Right…” You nod slowly, waiting for him to go on.
“Mind if I keep him out? He likes to be a part of the action.” There was no hint of a joke in his tone.
“Uh, sure.” You shrugged. It could be weirder, after all. You scoot closer to him, reaching up to touch it, and he allows it, crouching to your level to give you easier access. “He’s adorable.”
“Ya like him, do ya?” He asks, watching you sceptically as you pet the pink toy. You smiled and nodded, and he continued, “Well… I think he likes you too.”
You giggle at the feel of its soft fur when Digger nuzzles the plush into your neck. He makes neighing noises as he begins to rub its softness up and down your body, tickling your skin. You grip at his arms to try and make him stop, but to no avail. He keeps on tracing the fluff against you. Any movement you made, any retaliation, he simply followed, even when you fall against the floor, breathless.
“Dig- DIGGER- No NO! STOP please!” You gasp, each attempt to push him away growing weaker. “Uncle, UNCLE!”
“That’s not my name, is it pet?” He responds as he straddles your knees, locking your legs open as he relentlessly continues his attack.
“CAPTAIN!” You’re practically screaming at him. “CAPTAIN PLEASE!”
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He trails off, lifts his pink buddy away, then seems to change his mind, intentionally grazing it along your chest, down your stomach, The fabric of your dress blocks any real friction until suddenly you feel its softness at full force between your legs. “Nahh,”
“God, NO, STop.” You dart up, mustering all your upper body strength to push him away. With a wail, he tumbles back, balancing himself on the side of the van.
“You’ll regret that.” He mumbles as he pounces back at you. The only thing between you and a concussion caused by the hard metal floor is one of the sacks Digger had filled during the heist. Before you can fight back, his lips are on yours again, tongue already practically tickling your tonsils.
“Drryrratagd.” You mumble into his mouth.
He pulls away, eyeing you. “What?”
“I said: Does your ass taste good?”
He turns his head in an attempt to hide a grin, but you still see the curl of his lips. He runs his tongue along his teeth as he considers the question. You’ve stumped his smartass.
Eventually, he answers. “You’d know better, you’ve taste it firsthand.”
“True.” You agree.
“Well?” He pushes the question back on you, now you’re not sure how to answer. “Umm… It tastes like ass.”
Digger only nods half-heartedly before pressing back down on you. Legs either side of your waist, arms against your shoulders, he begins kissing, sucking, and nibbling at your neck.
“Harder.” You whimper, wiggling beneath him, purposely rubbing your thigh against his dick.
“What’s that? Speak up.” He murmurs against your throat.
“Bite me harder.” You cry, without hesitation, he bites down on your collarbone until you feel the skin break under his teeth, before relocating to the base of your neck to chomp down again and again and again. Not once bothering to lick at the wound when he was done. But then, you hadn’t done the same for him.
“Like that?” He asks, not looking up to see your reaction.
“Ummm, yes.” You whine.
“You really are a fuckin’ whore, aint ya?” He says as he rubs the tip of his nose along the centre of your neck.
“Yes.” You concede. “Probably more of a whore than you can handle.”
That was unnecessary, but damn, he was hot when he was pissed.
“We’ll see about that.” He says. No words he’s ever said to you had felt more like a threat than those. Without warning, his burly hands release your shoulders and grip the neckline of your dress. With one quick motion, he pulls the entire thing in half. “No bra -”
“Hey! That thing was expensive.” You chide, cutting him off. You sit up, meeting him face to face.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t wear it while ya working. God knows what would happen to it.” His tone is mocking. “Try dressin' more practical in future.”
“You do you Captain fucking Boomerang boxers.” You seethe. “I’ll do me.”  
“No.” He latches a hand around your jaw, roughly forcing you back down. “I think you’ll find, I’ll be doing you.”
He leans forward to add more pressure, but his actions are interrupted by the sound of the van doors opening. The outside light temporarily blinds you both. When you come too, you see Pye standing outside, weapon at the ready. You can’t see her expression beneath the mask, but her stance means business.
“What the fuck is this?” Digger asks, looking back and forth, confused.
“There's a tracker in the van, dumbass.” You explain, “I’ve just been keeping you busy.”  
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liwaywaydreamer · 1 year
Text
My Savior (Ch. 1)
(Time travel au, Royalty au, BTS x Reader)
Synopsis: As a hopeless med student that has been accustomed to the roller coaster of mishaps in life, you were sure nothing could get worse than the current situation you’re in. Unfortunately, that thought didn’t include being transported back in the 1400s, nor did it include you being an apparent reincarnation of the person you hated most. Now, can this get any worst?
Pairing: BTS x reader
Warnings: Inaccurate history, angst, bystander effect, verbal abuse (reader received some insults and humiliated), harmful thoughts, implied politics (in connection only to the story, there are no real politician mentioned here), corruption in politics, unreliable narrator (if I forgot something, feel free to comment or send an ask?)
A/n: university life is shit and I was eyeing for this to be at 5k words but if I stuck to that, I wouldn’t finish this. If you like it, please reblog. Reblogs are worth more than likes here right?
Masterlist
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Chapter 1: Like fate, like destiny
You're fucked.
Two words you continuously repeat in your head as you struggle to gather the mess of thesis papers you've left messily across your table the night before. Glancing at your alarm clock not surprisingly on the floor blaring 10:30 at you, sporting a dent not so hidden even if you're three feet away, (a surprising quality for such a cheap thing).
Your class starts at 8.
You tried your best to get to your university as quickly as you can, wishing time would stop a little, or even just go back, afraid of what is about to come. Despite your efforts not to get annoyed (and failing miserably) with the bodies you bumped into on the way and the occasional yelling here and there — from the moment you almost forgot to pay the bus fare to when you're facing your professor right now in front of the faculty lounge, the same professor which you needed to pass your research to— coffee splashed onto his shirt, a cup on the floor, and you on the receiving end of his anger.
He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that you might have found endearing if he had been more physically appealing. You waited with bated breath, so used to his antics. Although some might see this as an attempt for him to control his anger, you however can see past his huge ego and idiotic narcissism, he was only doing this to attract more traction, the audience for your humiliation.
His prolonged sigh was your calm before the storm.
"You can't do anything right, do you?" he sneered as if trying to prove a point to the spectators, relishing in every second of your embarrassment. 
If being a disappointment was a job, you'll be the CEO in no time.
"Sir, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean—"
"SHUT UP!" he screamed as he loosens his necktie. You can't do anything but wait and hope that whatever he does next would suffice for how much you've messed up time and time again.
"You, what can you do right?" With each word, he poked and prodded you, pushing you closer and closer to the deep end. You whimpered, trying to not lose control but failing miserably as there was nothing that you could do to stop it, and whether you were just failing by your standards or the fact that he does not care, he continued his barrage of insults, never letting up despite your attempts to apologize.
"How long do I need to put up with you?" he slurred as he now prods your shoulder, harder and harder with each word.
"Sir, I'm sor— "
"HUH?!" a smack and you were on the ground. All the people in the vicinity just stood there, watching, unwilling to help— being a mindless watcher to the abuse, the true definition of a bystander effect.
Why is it in every discipline, violence needs to be included? Is that how we're programmed to learn? Through nothing but violence? You hoped for someone to help you even if you already knew that no one would. Yet, you hoped still.
If this was your first day in school, you would've fought back. You would've stood up for your pride. That a spilled coffee is not enough to humiliate you like this and that not every misfortune is because of you. But you know better; this isn't your first day, nor is it your second. You know how the system works and who it favors, and unfortunately, it doesn't favor you.
"...waste of space. If it weren't for your parents..." You didn't hear the other words he spoke as he walked away not forgetting to throw the papers he held— papers that were your best effort at reaching your dreams, thrown away with your hopes of being better than what they said.
Needless to say, you were suspended due to behavior misconduct; words that you no longer know the meaning of anymore. You're back to your cage-like rented dorm, whilst your head is everywhere but.
What a cruel joke, you thought. The first time you wanted something so badly for yourself and had dedicated your whole life to had to happen with the world's hatred for you was at its peak. Or had it ever really stopped?
You gripped the handle of your balisong, tracing the delicate and intricate designs you engraved on it as waves of atrocious thoughts crashed into your mind. How morbid, you mused. The same thing that you want to hurt yourself with right now is the same thing that made you feel grounded. You're aware that these thoughts are anything but good, but you're also aware of the fact that no one is going to help you.
Simply because no one wants to.
A medical career was not your parents' choice nor was it ever in their choice, but it was in yours.
You're not unconscious of the fact that a career in the medical field is a lot to take financially, and to be the only one in the medical field in a family of lawyers? You alone destroyed the dreams put on you by your mother who vicariously lived through you, but you wanted it.
And you thought that was enough.
But now, as you sit back on the barren floor of your sparsely furnished room that you once hoped would've at least shown evidence of the life of someone healthy in their early twenties, you had nothing other than your worn-out bed on the corner and a circular dinner table doubling as your makeshift desk, cut off from all financial stability that your parents could've provided you if you only heed to their wishes. Now, you think about whether your current situation is worth the sense of independence you fought so hard for.
Was it a foolish decision to stand your ground? To try to live your life on your own terms? Because you know for a fact that it doesn't matter if you followed every whim of your parents as they will always find something wrong and below their standards with you. With every breath, every change of clothes, every food that you intake, even your education— you were taught that everything that they have given you was a debt you owed them, and because of that they are within their rights to choose for you.
After all, parents only want the best for their children, don't they?
You are by no means the most intelligent person on the campus, nor were you trying to be. But you're committed to what you chose, and you hoped that that commitment can be seen through your effort and hard work. And yet, despite your commitment, those words, those words still echoed in your mind— you can't seem to un-hear those words.
“If it weren't for your parents.”
You wanted to choose a life separate from them, to forge a path of your own. But no matter how much it pains you to admit, you know now, clearer than ever, that it does not matter how far you run, you'd always be hidden beneath their shadows.
To only be recognized as the black sheep of your family.
Instead of indulging your self-pity and sulking alone in your room with a blade on sight much longer than you had intended to, you opt to browse the internet for some fun things to do; a piece of advice you got from the internet since seeing a psychiatrist would be a luxury for you.
And whether it was your misfortune running out finally or yet another adventure of mishaps waiting to unfold an announcement caught your attention:
"Join us for a free tour down the historical lane to commemorate the House of Kim, with events set to reenact the life our ancestors had lived!"
There were more words to the article but as you read on, your eyes fell on the tour's schedule.
"Gyeongbokgung tour is going to take place at 1:30 pm," you murmured to yourself.
It was an opportunity you couldn't miss, a rare sight to see. Despite the mental baggage weighing you down, this was a chance to experience something new and forget about your troubles, even if just for a little while. Maybe this was the way of the gods trying to make up for all the shit storm your life is at right now, but whatever it was, you'll take it.
So, without hesitation, you got up, grabbed your purse, and with the little money you have left, you headed out. You knew you had to take on more shifts at the store or find other jobs to cover for your sudden trip, as your dream of becoming a doctor was fading quickly and surely anyway. But for now, all you cared about was the prospect of exploring a historical place that had opened its doors on a day it usually wouldn't.
Arguably, no one other than yourself knows what decisions made on a whim can do to anyone. Whether this is your intuition telling you to go back to your room to help you or just to spite you away from society, you didn't dwell long on the thought.
All you needed to know is that you're drowning quickly, and you would hold unto anything, even a pair of gilded chains to let you breathe again.
"Gyeongbokgung Palace, also known as Gyeongbok Palace, was the primary royal residence and the largest of the five grand palaces that still exist today in South Korea. Built-in 1395, this..."
As you don't have a lot of money to waste, you stuck to the free guides the palace provides although not very effective when you're standing in the back of 50 people. And looking at how detached and uninterested your tour guide is whilst speaking, without a doubt, you knew that this was just an additional job to her. Not really enough to complain about since the constant chattering of the people around you easily engulf her almost robotic voice anyways.
This trip already cost you more than you expected and standing still to nonsense chatter was not part of your nonexistent plan. So, with the palace map in hand, you left the group with ease.
"Gwanghwamun: the southern gate that became the main gate after some time. It is one of Seoul's iconic sights, having been restored after being largely destroyed by the war," you read while gazing up at the magnificent building in front of you, the swaying of windchimes singing their lullabies in the background. Your eyes carefully scanned every nook and cranny, not wanting to forget this beautiful sight. Although you can't be sure if the scenery is exactly as it looked when it was originally built, the idea of having remnants of the past soothes your soul.
You've always been intrigued about the things that have already happened, or perhaps that's an understatement as your mind always seems to be occupied with thoughts about what they could have done differently and the effects of it on the modern world. Whether it really is fascinating to you or just a form of escapism, you don't want to know. All you do know is that you're a product of the modern world, but something within you suggests that itself was a mistake.
Especially when the Kim dynasty has the best-looking aristocrats you had ever seen.
No, you weren't attracted to them, you tried to defend yourself from your inner turmoil as you gaze upon the paintings displayed. You just know how to appreciate beauty when you see one, even if it's just paintings on a wall. This was once again your Philip Hamilton but with much more injustice. At least with Philip, there were actual pictures of him to bestow the world with his beauty. And although you can commend the talents of the painters of the past considering they did not have the best art supplies during their time, you still cannot grasp the idea that these people existed. Not when they are reduced to the mere splat of colors made to resemble a person.
You couldn't clearly see the features of each man in the paintings, but it's not really anyone's fault for it's just the evidence of time. Nevertheless, your admiration for them never lessened, because it's more than their artificial perfection that deserved your admiration and respect. They were also the ones who did more than any other aristocrats ever did for their people. They were the true embodiment of a regime existing not for the regime itself, perfectly aware of who gave them power. Although yes, it wasn't a democracy, but even democracy has its problems.
All you can say is they did their best to lead their people. At least for some time, as they were the foundation that made South Korea what it is now. Sure, their reign could've ended better, still, they were an integral part of history.
And history should never be forgotten.
Although it disheartens you that their achievements and sacrifices are slowly being forgotten; the wars they've won are now taken for granted, you understand that life goes on and people have their own lives to live. It's another reminder that time doesn't stop for anyone.
As the wind chimes fluttering in the breeze, abruptly ceasing your thoughts. Somehow, you felt a sense of belongingness, despite their faintness that could easily be muffled by the chirping of birds. Nonetheless, it was truly fitting for the place as it only elevated the experience the palace could only give.
You couldn't quite understand why wind chimes would be placed in Geunjeongjeon, other than to elevate the experience, but since the cold breeze was constant ever since you stepped onto the palace grounds, you're certain that the people who are in charge knew exactly what they're doing.
You continued observing the place, trying to imagine what events had happened on the concrete that was paved hundreds of years ago. Was it quiet? Were the roads bustling with people constantly? Or were there just only a handful of people seen from time to time walking along?
You were so deep into your imagination that for a few seconds, you felt as though you were transported back in time. You were seeing groups of three to four consorts walking and talking to each other, palace women walking briskly with a basket on their sides, and a few eunuchs scolding some servants who probably messed something up. And then suddenly, everything came to halt when a booming voice from behind you commanded, "Make way for the Prince!"
As you turned to face the source of the voice, you found yourself making eye contact with a man whose attire you could easily recognize from the K-dramas you'd watched, and even with the distance between you, you can't help but feel he was looking straight at you.
"Excuse me, is this yours?" A little girl's voice interrupted your daydream, her voice so cute as she lightly tugs your shirt, holding out your phone.
"Oh, thank you so much!" you exclaimed, realizing that you were in your head so much that you didn't feel your phone fall off your pocket. You would have another problem added to your bulk of problems if it weren't for the girl.
"No problem, have a good day!" she gleamed brightly and ran off. The kid was so energetic you couldn't even give her something back. 
As you opened your map once again, you accidentally dropped your phone and with it, you see a pocket watch on the ground. And it didn't take you to think twice to know to whom it belongs. Hurriedly, you followed the kid toward the path of the Hyangwonjeong pavilion.
"Where did she go?" you murmured, you were sure that you had seen her walking towards the pavilion, but as you see the bare grounds of the place, you realized you had lost track of her. The pavilion was nearly empty except for a few tourists, and you felt torn between searching for the girl to return the watch or continuing to explore the palace grounds.
As you were going to turn around and try to find the girl, you stopped in your tracks. After all, did you really spend your money to travel here just to end up focusing on returning a girl's missing watch when the palace was only open for a limited time? It would be a waste of time going here if you didn't enjoy your time, right? As you stood there contemplating your decision, the constant breeze grew stronger, making the wind chimes nearby flutter and although messy, they still somehow created the most beautiful melodies. The sound disrupted your thoughts, but somehow provided an answer to your dilemma. You decided to keep the watch and continue exploring the palace. After all, you didn't want to waste your money and time searching for someone who would likely be enjoying the sights with her guardians. You could always return the watch to her later.
As you stroll on the bridge named Chwihyanggyo, your fingers lightly tapping the railings, you thought of one thing that could make this experience a million percent better.
"Why are hanbok so fucking expensive?" you huffed, frustrated at yourself for not being able to afford one. But since you can't do anything about it, you continued walking with a pout toward the buildings that housed the aristocrats of the past. The melodies of the windchimes grow louder as you come closer. And that's when it hits you.
How do you keep hearing them considering you haven't seen one since your first step on the palace? If this was a scene in a drama, you would've thought that the windchimes were following you, serving as the background music for the main protagonist's introduction. But this was no drama nor were you a main protagonist material, and you couldn't help but feel curious about it.
As you stepped inside the pavilion, you felt like you were slowly reaching your dream of going back in time as you gaze at the antique furniture that filled the place. Your fingers trailed the rough edges of the desk, which had subtle engravings that seemed unreadable at first glance: 다 괜찮을거야.
Everything will be alright.
The phrase repeated in your head as you wondered what it meant. Was it a message from the past or just a meaningless inscription? You felt a sense of longing to uncover the mystery behind it, and you wouldn't have noticed it if you hadn't felt it, but the pavilion was closing soon, and you had to leave to look around more. 
As you were about to exit, the chimes called out to you again, tempting you to get closer and follow their sweet melody— almost as if they could sense the curiosity in your mind. You followed the sound until you stumbled upon a backroom, which looked like a storage room that had been converted into a makeshift bedroom for the caretaker. You stepped across the redline, both figuratively and literally, unable to resist the urge to explore further.
From the balcony, you caught a glimpse of the wind chimes dangling from a branch over the lake. The constant ringing didn't falter from luring you in. You scanned the area for anyone who could catch you and when you saw no one, you leaped over the balcony and headed toward the chimes. There was something about the chimes that piqued your interest, but whether it was the chimes themselves or the confusion of how you keep hearing them from afar, you weren't sure, and nor were you going to find your answer.
Because as the popular idiom goes, curiosity killed the cat, and with a slip up your feet into the lake you go.
♛♛♛♛♛♛♛
The row of daisies sat atop the windowsill, bathed in the golden light of daybreak. The silent whims of the wind filled the space, stirring the dried leaves on the small makeshift table below, made with old planks with jagged edges, where jars of medicines sat alongside a worn notebook filled with hastily scribbled notes. There was the usual sound of footsteps and the creaking of floorboards. The palace's physicians and attendants began to trickle in, their visits indicated by the soft chimes of wind chimes hanging above the door.
And the wind blew one more time. As if it's intentionally done to send a message as the image of blurred sketches comes through.
All was well.
Until the peaceful scene was shattered by the thunderous galloping of horses that had shaken the rooms. Until there was the clash of metal on metal that filled the air as swords were unsheathed. And until there were faces with features you couldn't make up.
Muffling, shuffling, screaming, shouting.
It was only chaos and bloodshed, and as it worsened, the ringing in your ears grew louder and louder, drowning out all other sounds and leaving you with nothing but a sense of overwhelming disorientation.
Then, just as suddenly, it all heeds to a stop. The ringing faded away, and nothing could be heard other than the flipping of the pages, the smooth gliding of a pen, and the wind chimes outside the window that began to tinkle once again. You looked out the window and saw a tranquil scene: rows of green grass and golden hay, and the majestic curve of a mountain in the distance. There were no whims nor whispers of the wind.
All was quiet and still.
As if everything was at its stalemate; the equilibrium.
And then, as if a stick had been broken, it happened.
The scene began to shift and blur, colors and shapes warping and twisting like a nightmare. The ground trembled beneath your feet; the tremors so strong that you could've sworn you felt it all as images flickered before your eyes. You saw a crowd of men gathered around someone lying on the cold hard floor with colors ranging from black to white, their sorrows crystal-clear even with the constant ringing. Then you saw a field of yellow flowers, a scenery of green and gray with men running toward something in the distance, their faces twisted in anguish, kneeling and begging in the middle of a field.
The images kept shifting and switching back and forth. Everything was in chaos as if fate itself was unsure of what was to come. But through it all, you struggled to hold onto each fleeting image, desperate to make sense of the chaos that surrounded you. And then, with a sudden jolt, you were pulled back into reality, coughing up water as you gasped for air. As you opened your eyes, the last remnants of the dream slipped away, and you were left with only the memory of the intense emotions it had stirred within you.
Dazed, and confused. You looked up, meeting the gaze of the man who had pulled you from the water, his eyes filled with concern and relief.
You were certain you hadn't met him before, but you could've sworn that those almond-shaped eyes were something you could never forget, etched into your memory with an inexplicable familiarity.
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To be continued...
Thanks for reading!
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annwrites · 3 days
Text
you missed training ※∴
— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader
— type: ficlet
— summary: shane deems it time for you to have some private target practice lessons with him.
— tags: shane has horny thoughts about you, cuddling, shane actually giving a damn
— tw: guns, suicidal ideation, mentions of masturbation, eating
— word count: 4,773
— a/n: i know this fic references some past events between shane & the reader, but this is just one part of a series of posts i plan to write for shane. i do have another post up, which is about shane's "offer" to the reader (taking their virginity).
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You shove a clothespin into place before picking up the next item—one of Andrea’s pairs of cargo pants—and jump when you feel a palm against your back, causing you to nearly drop the damp piece of clothing. You clutch it to your chest instead, thankful they won’t need to be rewashed.
You turn to your right where Shane is now standing, palm still firmly in-place against your backside.
“Yes?” You ask as you hang the pants. You then turn fully toward him, causing him to drop his hand.
“You missed training.”
You shrug, bending down to pick up a t-shirt, but he takes it from you, throwing it on the line without clothespins, just to get your attention back on him. “Can you just stop for a minute and look at me?”
You sigh, doing as he’s asked, crossing your arms.
“I asked you to come,” he says, clearly not pleased with you.
“There was work to do.”
He shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips, and you can tell his temper is nearly at its boiling point. Not that it isn't always anymore, it seems.
“That’s always your excuse. For everything. And I’m gettin’ tired of hearin’ it.”
You give him a none-too-pleased look at the attitude now lacing his tone, and go to pick up a pair of clothespins so the shirt can be properly hanged, and not risk being blown away by the wind, but he takes them from you, throwing them back into the basket before grabbing your hand in his and pulling you away from laundry duty.
“Shane-” You start, but he promptly interrupts you.
He turns back to you, your hand still held firmly within his calloused grip. “I am tired of askin’ nicely. This is important, and you’re going to learn whether you like it or not.”
You can feel your face growing warm, your pulse rising. You do not appreciate being made into just one more person he thinks he can boss around as he pleases. “I don’t need lessons.”
He gives you a look which says ‘yeah right’ before releasing your hand and pulling his pistol from its holster. He goes to hand it to you and you take it from him with caution. And don’t you dare think he doesn’t notice the fear with which you handle the weapon with.
“Alright, then. You know everything you need to know, then show me where the safety is.”
You look the sidearm over, looking for the right button, but look up to him in humiliation after a moment. You can’t even find it within yourself to tell him you don’t know.
He crosses his arms. “Show me how to eject the clip, then.”
Once again, you’re not sure which button will do what he’s asked for.
With an exasperated sigh, he takes the gun from you, tucking it back into its holster. “You want to tell me about how you don’t need training again?”
You shift from one foot to the other, refusing to answer.
“Not going to answer me now?”
You look up to him. Into his eyes which are searching yours. You shrug.
Shane hangs his head, shaking it. “Sweetheart, you want to explain to me why you’re so reluctant to learn a new way to defend yourself? A pretty important one?”
You look away from him, to those milling around the camp, talking and laughing amongst themselves. And then you look the other way, to an empty field. Tranquility, solitude. Peace.
“Learning self-defense means that I feel like I still have a life worth defending—worth living. That I feel like I’m worth defending.” You look at him then. “I don’t believe any of that.”
He lets out a low swear. “I thought we were past this.”
“You keep insisting on saving someone who doesn’t want to be saved, Shane. I never asked for you to bring me with you all from the quarry. Never asked for you to drag me out of the CDC. Never asked for you to help me on the highway. I made my choice over and over again and you refuse to accept that.”
He grimaces, his fists tightening at his sides. “Just because you think you’re not worth saving doesn’t mean everybody else has to think that. Because I don’t. Which I’ve proved time and again. You’re-” He rubs his hand over his head, settling it on his hip. “You’re one of the most valuable members of this group. You-”
You interrupt him with a laugh which has no humor behind it. “Valuable? Valuable how, Shane? By doing laundry? By helping make lunch and cleaning out the RV?”
He shakes his head. “It’s more than that and you know it. Just because you don’t see your self-worth doesn’t mean I don’t. Because I do.”
You continue to stare up at him, fighting against the tears threatening to overtake your vision. A tear slips from one of your eyes anyway and he reaches up, gently brushing it away with the pad of his thumb.
“I’m going to keep saving you until one day I don’t have to anymore. Because you’ve finally made the decision to live. So, are we going to go practice? Because if you tell me no, girl, I’ll just keep on your case about it until-”
“Ok.”
He shuts his mouth suddenly, a small grin gracing his lips. “Yeah?”
“I said ok.”
He jerks his head in the direction of the training area they’d set up some ways off from the house and camp. “C’mon then.”
He places his palm against the small of your back again, leading you away from camp.
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The Georgia heat could be insufferable some days, but at least today was a bit cooler, even by a few degrees, with a slight breeze. The sun was low enough for the trees behind the training area to be casting long shadows, shielding you from the sun overhead.
Shane leads you over to a bit of fence that has a row of bottles set up beyond it, along with a couple of targets.
“Alright, here.” He stops you in the middle, the targets all directly beyond where you’re standing.
He removes the gun from its holster again. “This is your safety,” he says, flipping a small switch on the side, a red dot now visibile. He looks at you, and you at him. “Red means fire.” He flips the switch back.
“And this is how you release your clip.” He presses a button on the side and the bottom of the pistol comes out, a row of shiny bullets now visible. “It’s fully loaded.”
He pushes the clip back in.
“You know your stance?”
You shake your head, feeling more and more ignorant with every question he asks. You’d never had a reason to learn these things…before.
“I figured as much,” he says with a smile, coming to stand behind you.
He kicks your feet apart with his boot. “Move your right foot forward some—good, like that. Now, turn.” He grips your hips in both of his hands, firmly, turning your body just the least bit toward the fence. Shane then removes his gun from its holster and holds it out in front of you.
You take the grip in your hands, only just now noticing how heavy it is when you try to hold it up.
The barrel droops and he sighs. “Should’ve brought a lighter pistol, that’s my mistake.”
He reaches up, taking both of your hands in his, helping you hold it steady. “Alright, safety off.”
You find the small switch from earlier and push it down, that small red dot now visible.
“Chamber a round by pulling the slide back.”
You at least know that part, so you do as he instructs. “Good.” He presses his front against your backside, his body heat radiating onto you, causing a few small beads of sweat to form on the back of your neck.
“Make sure to keep your back straight, feet apart. And I want you to grip the gun firmly, but let it breathe. And don’t you ever put your finger on that trigger until you’re ready to fire and know what you’re firing at. You understand?”
You nod.
“Alright, close your left eye, find your target, and when you're ready, put your finger on the trigger and squeeze it slowly. Don’t just start firing off rounds at-will.” You hear a smirk in his voice as he continues “We’re saving that for the advanced course.”
“Given I pass this one,” you add, your tone nervous.
“You’ve got Officer Shane Walsh playin’ teacher to you now, darlin’. I’ll give you a pass.” He shrugs. “Once you’ve earned it.”
You don’t dare to think what he said might have some double-meaning to it.
“Alright, sweetheart. Deep breath, then when you’re ready.”
You take a deep breath, slowly let it out, then place your finger over the trigger, his hands still over yours. You squeeze slowly…and miss the bottle you were aiming at entirely.
You nearly curse. “I missed.”
“That was just your first try. You’ll get there.” He readjusts his hands. “We’ve got all day, baby. Just you and me.”
You feel sweat drip down your back. You tell yourself its from the heat. Not his body pressed firmly against yours. Not the pet names slipping so easily from his lips. And certainly not the fact that all of his attention was, at current, focused entirely on you.
He keeps his hands overtop of yours. "Try again, darlin'."
You close one eye, find the bottle you'd aimed at before and fire once again, hitting it this time and shattering it.
You smile. An actual genuine smile. And fill with a small sense of accomlishment.
Shane brings his lips close to your ear. "Good job, honey. Four more to go."
You could swear he presses a brief, light kiss to the side of your head, but brush it off as nothing.
You miss your next three shots—each attempt sloppier than the last and your cheeks feel like they're on fire. Whether from the warmth of his body nearly enveloping yours, the heat of the day, or the humiliation of having missed so many times, you're not sure.
But he'd not gotten aggravated with you yet. "Try again," he instructs softly.
"I-" you start, until he adjusts his stance behind you, briefly gripping one of your hips to fix your footing, causing you to go silent again as his hand skims your bare waist under your shirt.
"You say somethin', sweetheart?"
You shake your head. "I'm just having a hard time concentrating."
Your arms were resting in front of you now, the pistol lowered and gripped in each of your hands, the safety on.
"Somethin' you need to me to do?"
Take a step back and let me breathe, you want to say, but don't. It's impossible to concentrate with your hands all over my body, you consider, but keep your mouth shut. He was just trying to be a good teacher, that was all.
Somehow you doubted he had been this handsy with Patricia or Jimmy, though.
"Could we take a break, maybe?"
He comes to stand at your side. "We only just started. Tell you what, hit another bottle and we'll take a quick break. Can you do that for me?"
You don't answer. You simply raise the pistol again, but before you can even shut one of your eyes, he's pressed right back up against your backside, his arms and hands enveloping your own.
You sigh, squeeze the trigger, and somehow manage to get lucky.
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As you take a brief pause, the two of you seated facing each other—both of you leaned back against opposing trees—you try to ignore his staring.
Eventually, he breaks the silence. "I'll get you a lighter gun when we get back. Think I know the one for you. Just...not sure if giving you a firearm is the best idea. Right now, at least"
You fidget with your hands in your lap. "Why? Because you think as soon as you hand it to me I'm going to stick it in my mouth?"
A muscle in his jaw feathers. "You said it, not me. But yes. Given your past...behavior, you can't blame me for bein' a bit paranoid."
You lean your head back, looking back to the three untouched bottles, mocking you across the way. Had you hit them, you wouldn't be having this conversation right now. "No, I guess I can't."
You don't see him shake his head. "Not even going to try and convince me otherwise?"
You look back to him. "I haven't exactly tried ending my life in incredibly direct ways thus far, Shane. I chose to stay at the quarry, you wouldn't allow that. I chose to stay at the CDC—same result. I collapse on the highway and you nursed me back to health. It's not like I was slitting my wrists or downing bottles of pills. It was more just...whatever happened happened."
"I just wish I knew how the hell to stop it."
The truth was...being here—at the farm—was actually helping. The wide open spaces that were free from walkers. The quiet, slow way of living. Having some sense of security with there being an actual house and barn nearby. Even meeting new people had lifted your spirits. But you were afraid to admit it out loud—that you felt small moments of happiness in this place every now and again. Because as soon as you did? It'd all be ripped away.
But you knew Shane was worried about you. A worry that grew with each day. So you cross your fingers—mentally knock on wood—before you tell him.
"Being here has helped. Being someplace so...untouched. I still have bad days and bad moments, but I feel better here. Lighter, somehow. I don't think about wandering off and ending it all like I did anymore. Now I just...I wish we could make a life here. All of us. But if you keep butting heads with Hershel that dream will end one day."
He studies you for a moment. "Think he's just living with his head in the clouds. Thinking those things aren't what they are. That help is coming. That we'll get past this and things will just return to normal before we know it."
"What does it hurt you to let him believe that? We all had hope like that at one time, too, incase you've forgotten. He hasn't seen what we've seen. Hasn't been through what we've been through. Just...put yourself in his shoes. Wouldn't you be just as blind?"
He shrugs. "Don't think I'd have my head that far in the damn sand."
You're both quiet again. You don't bother arguing further with him. He was stubborn—hard-headed as they came. Trying to make him see reason, or at the very least, another way, was futile more often than not.
"I'm happy to hear it, though. Relieved, really. That you feel better here. Guess we made the right decision by staying."
You flush. "I always wanted to live in a place like this. Quiet, with lots of land, and far away from everyone. Just...peaceful."
"Never did strike me as a city-girl," he says with a smirk.
You hum. "Hardly."
You lean back once again, closing your eyes, just enjoying the breeze blowing through the tall grass, and the birds signing overhead.
Meanwhile, Shane can't take his eyes off of you. Not your flushed face or full lips, your neck, the swell of your breasts under your t-shirt, your round hips, or legs.
He knew it hadn't been entirely necessary—him keeping himself pressed up against you during your first round of training, but the truth was he couldn't keep his damn hands off of you. You were just so damn soft and felt good to grip and touch and slide his hands along.
He'd been thankful you never seemed to notice the swell of his hard cock pressed up against your backside.
He'd not entirely tried to hide it.
He could feel that same erection returning as he admired your body, fantasized about what was underneath all those layers. He adjusts himself as he considers what you might sound like as he traces your curves with his tongue, what you might taste like cumming on it.
He liked to imagine how tight you would feel, clenching around him, milking his body of every last drop of cum he had to give.
Some time, late at night, weeks ago, he'd came—hard—and not with Lori's name on his lips, but yours, as he had his cock fisted tightly in his grip. He'd not even been expecting it, but it'd happened anyway—his thinking of you on your knees, his length in your wet mouth, wide innocent eyes staring up at him as he instructed you on what to do to please him.
After that night, all he did was fantasize about you. He hardly even considered her anymore.
It'd all started after you told him that damn wish of yours from your bucket list—wanting to lose your virginity before you died.
"You thought anymore about it?"
You'd nearly started drifting off to sleep when his voice had woken you. You look at him, a bit dazed and if anything, it turned him on all the more—he took no qualms with that idea. You lying there, limp and relaxed, legs spread for him as he did all the work to get you both off.
"What?" You ask, stretching.
He licks his lips at the sight of your midriff making a brief appearance before your shirt lowers again as you rest your hands in your lap.
"What we talked about a few nights ago on the porch."
You blanch, flushing. "Oh. That."
"Mhm, that. So, you thought about my offer?"
In truth, you had. Once, late at night, hand in your panties, coming away slick after you'd finished tending to yourself.
And then you'd filled with shame at what you'd done. Your family was gone—Sophia was missing, Carl had been shot and nearly died, even Otis, a member of Hershel's own family, had sacrificed himself to ensure the little boy made it.
The list went on and on. And that was what you had decided to use a bit of your spare time for?
Disgraceful. That was the best word you had for it. For yourself.
You shrug. "Not much."
His erection deflates, along with his ego. "Oh."
You look up to him and try to quickly salvage the situation. "It's not that I don't find you attractive, Shane. Of course I do. But like I said before, about Lori-"
He shakes his head. "That's done. Been done since Rick came back from the dead. She's moved on and so have I."
You raise a brow, not really believing him.
He sees the doubt in your expression. “Guess I’ll just have to prove myself to you, then.”
You cross your legs. “Why me, Shane? Why the sudden interest? Why not Andrea or Maggie or-”
He chuckles, glancing down to his lap, one of his thumbs rubbing against the palm of his other hand. He then looks back up to you and shrugs. “I think I’m just the type of guy who needs to feel needed. The two of them, as far as I can tell—at least for the most part—seem to be able to take care of themselves. You? Not so much. Not yet, at least. You need someone to look after you. Guess I appointed myself to that position without even really knowing it. Not at first, at least.”
So he saw you as a damsel in distress. Terrific. You weren’t sure whether you were supposed to feel offended or flattered about it.
“I’m not looking for a knight in shining armor to come save me, Shane. You don’t need to keep making me your problem. You have enough on your hands with-”
He leans his head back with an interrupting sigh. “We’ve had this conversation before. And it didn’t deter me then and it ain’t going to now. You’re not a problem, darlin’. I just want to be the solution, I guess.”
You can’t understand it, why someone like him—intelligent, reliable, with leadership skills, beyond good-looking, and above all a survivor—whatever the cost—has an interest in you. At all.
“What does that mean: be the solution?”
He shrugs, standing. He walks over to you, offering you his hand. “You tell me.”
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It’d taken over an hour for you to break the last three bottles, as well as make decent progress firing at the targets. You tell yourself you would’ve gotten done sooner—would’ve done better—had his hands not been all over you again—Shane no longer bothering with ensuring he was touching you only over your clothes, as he’d gripped your bare hips more times than you could count.
And you didn’t want to acknowledge the hard length you’d felt pressed into your backside once or twice. You told yourself he must’ve had another pistol on him, or a knife perhaps. That was all.
More than once, just as you had your target lined up, he’d done something—touched you, whispered something in your ear, shifted his body against yours—causing you to miss entirely. You wondered if it wasn’t just his attempt at dragging your training out for even longer.
When he finally announces that you’re done for the day, you nearly cry from relief. Your arms were sore, as well as your legs from standing in-place for so long, and your head was pounding from how hard you’d been trying to focus on not just hitting your targets, but also responding correctly as Shane drilled you on various parts of the gun in your hands, as well as proper firearm etiquette.
You wondered if he took delight in making you feel flustered and frustrated.
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When you finally make it back to camp, you’re thirsty, hungry, and want to take a nap. You begin to wander toward your tent, until you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in another direction.
“Oh no you don’t. You can sleep later. You didn’t bother with eating breakfast, so you’re having lunch, even if I have to hand-feed it to you.”
You look up to Shane and find you don’t have the energy to argue. He drops you off at the nearby picnic table, seated comfortably under a shady tree, and you watch as he steps away to prepare you something to eat.
You nearly laugh from the absurdity of him fixing you a plate for lunch—it seemed so domestic, especially since he was the one doing it—but you’re so tired that all you can manage is lying your head down, your eyes fluttering shut.
You fall asleep near-immediately. Until you’re woken by a plate being dropped in front of you.
“Eat.”
You lift your head, barely, and stare down at the two sandwiches before you, an apple on the side, and a bottle of water. You groan. “I’m tired, Shane.”
“Hand-feeding it is, I guess.”
He picks up a sandwich, which you promptly snatch away from him. “I can feed myself,” you state, taking a bite. Ham and cheese, you quickly figure out.
Shane sits with his legs on either side of the bench, his body facing you, watching as you eat.
You’re too tired to bother feeling self-conscious as you do so directly in front of him. You swallow, briefly glancing to him. “Thank you. For today.”
He nods, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, which had escaped your ponytail. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
He even goes so far as to press a kiss to your forehead. “You did good today, darlin’. I’m proud of you. You have no idea how much.”
You take another bite, smiling to yourself.
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Once you’d finished eating—Shane refusing to let you leave the picnic table until you’d finished every last bite, as well as the whole bottle of water—he’d led you over to your tent, which you’d crawled inside of as soon as he opened the flap.
You briefly thought to yourself that the tent was the wrong color and that the interior looked strange, but you didn’t dwell on it too long. Once your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light.
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When you wake, it’s in the middle of the night with the urge to pee.
You nearly scream in fear at the feeling of another body pressed up against your own, until you realize just who it belongs to.
Shane.
Why was he in your tent?
And then it dawns on you: you were in his. It’s why everything had seemed so off to you earlier before you laid down. He’d led you to his tent, and had put you to sleep in his bed.
He wasn’t being subtle about what he wanted anymore, clearly.
You didn’t know that you liked this sort of behavior. Him being so forward. Not even asking what you wanted.
Just deciding for you.
On the one hand, part of you just wants to let him—anyone—do all your thinking and decision-making for you. On the other, you were still sure that a part of him cared for Lori. Perhaps more than cared for her. Even if not, he frightened you sometimes. His fiery temper, his hard-headedness. And doing this…right in front of everyone—placing you in his bed in broad daylight—he was staking a claim. It was possessive. And that scared you a little.
You didn’t belong to him. You weren’t sure that you wanted to.
You didn’t wish to read too much into things—into this—but if that was what he wanted: to be with you… All you could think was if you opened yourself up to caring about another person again, you’d lose him just like all the rest.
But being alone hadn’t been easier, either. Closing yourself off emotionally from the rest of the group had lessened your will-to-live significantly. Contact with others was human nature; you were all social creatures. And keeping yourself from having such contact had deepened that well of sadness and loneliness inside of you.
A well you think maybe he’s trying to fill it, in his own way.
Shane had chosen the worst sleeping position for you to try and get out of to relieve yourself. And if you didn’t do so quickly… Suffice to say you’d never have to worry about him wanting you in his bed again.
You were facing his bare chest, your head tucked under his chin, one of his arms thrown over you, holding you firmly against him.
You try to wriggle downward, thinking perhaps you can just slip out of his grip that way, until he moans in his sleep, clutching you even more tightly, a small squeak of surprise escaping your lips.
You briefly press your forehead against his chest, nearly groaning in frustration. You press your thighs together tightly, then do what you have to: you push firmly against his chest, not caring if it wakes him.
Thankfully, however, he releases you, rolling onto his other side.
You’d blush at the fact he was only in his boxers now, and feel angry at the fact you’re only in your panties and a t-shirt—meaning he’d undressed you for bed while you’d been asleep—but you were near-to-bursting at this point.
You quickly exit the tent, grabbing a roll of toilet paper from a basket of supplies nearby and find a tree to relieve yourself behind.
Once you’re finished, you stand, staring at two different tents.
And you hated to admit: that you didn’t know which one to choose.
You were going to have a talk with Shane in the morning about his behavior tonight while you’d been asleep. But right now, all you wanted to do was lie back down—not make decisions. Not think.
And it was chilly out.
You tell yourself, as you zip the tent close, climbing under the blankets and pressing yourself back up against Shane’s chest—as he’d rolled back over in the time you’d been gone—that you’d chosen his simply for his body warmth.
You fight against the small smile that begins to form on your lips as he wraps an arm around you once again, whispering to you, voice slurred from sleep, “I knew you’d come back.”
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lauranthalasah · 11 months
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I believe Nate's arc is not that much about redemption, I believe it is about healing. He acted the way he did not because he is an evil person, he was hurt, always on the defensive, but there were reasons for that, probably more than the ones I can grasp, so he felt attacked and responded in kind. We know that the team, Will, Ted, meant no harm to him (at least in season 2),but we saw season 1, we saw Nate's reality for who knows how long, and when Ted came he didn't demand a stop of the bullying, like, I understand where he was coming from, but for the bullied person... it sucks, basically Ted put the team over the individual here. Listen, I adore Ted, but this was a shit move, I like it as part of the story, because it shows us that Ted isn't perfect, it shows us he has blind spots, blind spots that in season 2 covered Nate's actions. I also like it because it adds more reality to Nate's feelings, we know that Ted didn't have his back completely, so Nate is right to doubt him.
Now, of course, what Nate did/said in season 2 was not right, but it came from a place of hurt. What he said to Colin was wrong, but we do remember Colin was one of his bullies, probably for years, and I do not remember Colin actually apologizing to him (maybe he did... I really don't remember). The way Nate treated Will was the worst for me because Will truly didn't deserve it at all, but it came from the same hurt, feeling ridiculed and replaced. Then we have what he did and said to Ted, funny enough most of what he said to Ted shouldn't have been directed at him, I think it's more something that was meant for his own father, because Ted did treat him different than the previous year, but because he treated him more like an equal, something that Nate wasn't ready to see and/or internally accepted back then because he still was searching for paternal approval. What he did... by telling Trent about Ted's panic attacks, that was a low blow, but I think it is the public humiliation that Nate had to live with when being bullied all those years that moves him to do that, retaliation, the bullying did end with Ted's management, but not with Ted's direct actions.
Season 2 Nate hurt so bad for me, like at the end, when he screams at Ted and leaves... I think I felt mostly like Ted, sad. I know that in Ted's case there's a part of guilt too, but I think mostly it's sadness, Nate was hurting so bad, he was so lost, and he was backlashing at everything in an attempt to regain some control, and everything came from internal conflict. I, one hundred percent, understand why Ted forgives him immediately, I did too. What I love about Nate in season 3 is how bit by bit he claws his way back to his heart, how he learns to stand for himself, for what he believes, and starts liking the way he is, and taking risks. Now he is in a good place internally, now he has accepted himself, doesn't need external validation so much, accepts and laughs a bit about his own shortcomings, and it's finally realizing that not everyone is out to get him, and maybe, they weren't back then either. Because now he also understands his own values, and maybe... Other people did value him after all, and they weren't attacking him, maybe they weren't leaving him on the side, maybe they meant it when they called him "The Great" and "Wonder Kid", because maybe, just maybe, he is worth all of that. So now... now he can see that he acted wrongly to some people, because their intentions weren't what he thought they were, and now he can finally say "I'm sorry" and mean it.
I'm sure that there are a million things I'm missing, I've seen some people criticizing this arc and I don't meant the people who hate Nate or attacked Nick Mohammed, I mean the people that don't like the arc itself, I have to be honest, I don't even live in an English speaking country, so I'm sure there are aspects here that are controversial that I can't see simply because I lack the referential stand point for them. But it is not easy to understand those aspects through Tumblr, cause I've seen a post saying "only white people like Nate's arc" and immediately after I saw one of someone that identified themselves as having the same background as Nate saying they loved his arc... so I get REALLY confused! As someone that lives and is from a latin american country,  I love Nate's arc!
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ernmark · 10 months
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Didja miss me? I got caught up on the Juno Steel episodes a few weeks ago (still working on Second Citadel, more on that later), and now that I’m vaguely getting my life back on track, I’m sticking my toe back in this fandom, just in time for the beginning of the final season! 
So here we go:
Juno Steel and the Vanishing Act (Pt 1) Reaction
First off, it’s so nice to see Cas Kanagawa again. She sounds so much calmer, so much steadier. Which makes sense, given that the last time we saw her she had just accidentally killed her father and had spent years under the thumb of a hyper-controlling stepmother, and she’s finally free. 
So this exchange here is really striking:
JUNO: I'm glad you get to do what you always wanted, Cass. Honestly.
CASS: You... what?
JUNO: I said I'm glad. That's weird, now
CASS: No, I mean... no sarcasm? No bad jokes? No insults?
JUNO: Reading's not all I learned how to do over the past few years.
CASS: Yeah. Yeah, I think I can tell. Okay, I'll admit it. I do owe you. I don't have any money to give you, but I think I can help you out. (Vanishing Act)
It’s two ladies who have survived some real hard shit, who used to bring out a lot of the worst in each other, after they’ve gotten help, escaped from a toxic situation, and taken charge of their lives. Holy shit, that feels nice.
That said, I kinda want her to keep a bit role here. When the plot focuses on a character, it’s usually not because good things are coming to them, so I’m just fine keeping her in the director’s chair of her documentary series.
But that brings us to the actual mystery. 
We’ve got Carrie Gold (As in Kerry Gold, the canned tomato brand… cuz you throw tomatoes at a bad actor, get it?), the really terrible actress who bought her way onto a show, and owner of the Prismacrystal Chimes, who’s about to humiliate herself at her big debut. 
“Taking out my Chimes would be sabotage! And if my acting career doesn't take off after, why... ehm. Never mind.”
It may be that she’s actually out of money, and she was hoping for a glamorous career as an actor might save her from it. Notably, there’s no mention of her donating actual cash, just the Chimes. And the Chimes are an heirloom, so they may be the last thing of value she’s got, and this kind of publicity would be a good boost in its value– and having it ‘stolen’ would be a great way for them to disappear out of her possession without her losing face. Possibly the pawn ticket is hers, and she’s been selling off her other valuables?
(The Chimes, by the way– the scene where they were brought out, with the music and Juno’s narration and all? That was gorgeous. And I’ll talk more about the lighting part elsewhere.)
We’ve got Warner Jayne (my mind kept going back to German film director Werner Herzog? Or Warner Bros.?), the producer who’s bankrolling the show, arranged for Carrie’s involvement, procured the Chimes and the sound/lighting design, and notably doesn’t think the show can stand on its own without a lot of glitz and glamor.
“God, this show needs it. It's unwatchable, I...Oh. Don't tell Billie I said any of that.”
We’ve got Billie Dalton (as in the Dalton Gang?), the director whose grand project is about to be butchered onstage by Carrie’s acting, but maybe rescued by the special effects, but generally resents the interference. She’s the only one with the key to the Chimes’ lock, and the only person aside from Carrie who actually handles it. She’d have the opportunity to walk off with it while everybody’s eyes are on the stage. 
“Having those Chimes stolen in front of everyone, having Carrie Gold scupper the show... It would all almost be worth it for Warner Jayne to get what he deserves.”
We’ve got Clotilda Fairborough, actual actor whose big break is about to be shattered by her incompetent costar. 
“I'm going to drag this show kicking and screaming into something like artistic credibility, and you owe me for that, so act like it... or you'll see what happens when I'm not feeling so cooperative.”
These three have, in my opinion, the same motive: they’ve got a lot riding on a play that’s about to be ruined, which he didn’t believe in in the first place. Warner has a lot of money invested in this. Billie and Clotilda have their reputation on the line, and they might not get another chance. So it behooves all of them to get everybody’s eyes on Lono on their show, but not actually be paying too close attention to the play itself– so putting a priceless work of art on stage and then declaring it’s gonna be stolen at a very specific time during opening night? That’s perfect publicity.
USAmericans might be familiar with a grim joke: “Apart from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?” Alternatively, nobody thinks too hard about what was going on in Don Juan Triumphant right before the Phantom of the Opera dropped a chandelier on the audience. Any shortfalls in the play itself will be barely a footnote, but everybody will be talking about the event.
So everybody’s got a motive to throw a wench (hee hee) into the works, but the presence of the pawn shop ticket at the end has me putting my money on Carrie.
(There’s the obvious option, of course, that Nureyev is actually on the crew as a stage hand and he’s just being overlooked because nobody ever notices techies, but if that was the case, I feel like the stage crew would have been at least mentioned before now. A passing line, or something, but we’ve got nothing. )
(Also the transcripts on the official website are an actual godsend)
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hjcoolartnerd · 2 months
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Continuing my rewritten things For Total Drama All Stars, now we have episode two!
Previous episode:
1. Heroes Vs Villains
Episode 2: Evil Dread
Recap:
Chris: “ last times on total drama, I welcomed the all stars to the newly decontaminated island. Then it was heroes versus villains. Driving into short infested water in search of the one key that would open unlock the door to the all new McLean spa hotel for winners only. Thanks to Scott’s cowardly fear we learned that inside of every robot it’s the heart of a Spaniard, in this case, Alejandro. And while Alejandro might not hold the key to Heather‘s heart anymore, he did hold the key to the spa hotel, and victory for the villainous vultures. Hamsters. And the heroic hamsters bid farewell to Lindsay, Via Our newest and most humiliating commode of transportation the flush of Shame who will be next to pop through the pooper? Find out right now on total. Drama. All stars.”
————————————————————————————————————
Heroic Hamsters in the loser cabin:
Chester: “ there’s a storm coming!”
Stevlanna: “ I’m scared after all these years he’s going to return”
Vito: “ eyo, how are we gonna stop the Goomba?.”
Manitoba: ” hush, it mates, Mike is waking up” * Mike wakes up*
Mike: “huh? What’s that? You guys say something?” * Cameron snores, Sam sleeps peacefully as a mosquito drains his blood while Eric ‘shifts’ in his sleep. Mike shrugs then goes back to sleep.*
Eric’s Confessional: “ OK so I knew Mike had multiple personality sooner, but I didn’t thought it. Was this bad, his personality, talk in his sleep. I’m lucky I barely got any sleep last night besides, the bed are like rocks they were bit more in season one if I remember correctly. Maybe it’s nostalgia but damn my back hurts and also I think Lindsay a smart move being voted out yesterday, I actually doubt she is bad at pushing cards for crying out loud. She shops for a living and in season two she actually pulled Owen, Justin and Beth in the prison challenge by herself. Maybe Lindsey realized that $1 million wasn’t worth it and decided to leave huh?”
————————————————————————————————————
Villainous Vultures in the spa hotel:
Daniel: “*walking towards the masseuse* holy moly that was the best sleep. I’ve had in years this beds are even comfier than the beds back home I like winning.” *sees Heather waiting for the masseuse to finish with Alejandro* “ oh, sorry, am I interrupting a romantic moment between the two of you”
Heather: “ what!? no I just want Alejandro to stop hugging the masseuse!” * she was clearly blushing*
Alejandro: “*sigh* i’m sure her hands are magical, if only I could feel them”
Heather: “ seriously your legs are still asleep”
Alejandro: “ I don’t know if they’ll ever wake up, I was squashed into that robots suit for an entire year, which you would’ve known if you ever texted”
Heather : “ it’s not like you ever texted me”
Daniel: “ oh, yeah, you do definitely still have feelings for each other!” *laughs*
Heather : “ shut up Daniel! And are you getting your eyebrows waxed? *Alejandro Nods* wow”
Daniel: “that’s… uh cool?”
Alejandro: “ They call it manscaping because it is very manly and I didn’t text you because I was trapped in a robot suit”
Heather: “ugh what ever” * she rips off the wax from Alejandro’s eyebrow*
Daniel’s confessional: “ OK I really don’t see what Bryan used to see in Heather, It's like her she is so full of herself. And I also don’t get what Eric used to see in Alejandro. my brothers all have weird taste in people even Carlos and he’s one of the most neutral guy I’ve ever met, but the girl he likes is a complete rageholic. But I do need allies if I want to make it far Scott, lightning and Jo aren’t ideal, because they know how I play, besides, I wouldn’t trust Scott as far as I could throw him and that’s really far. Lightning is a self obsess jerk and Jo well if Cameron was able to double cross her and she didn’t see that coming, then she is not a good alliance member. *sighs* I guess is either Duncan, Heather, Alejandro, or Gwen. Heather and Alejandro are as manipulative as they come and Duncan doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would do alliances so time to buddy up with the weird goth girl. Have to make sure that she doesn’t kiss me that wouldn’t look favorable for me considering my girl from back home”
*everyone coughs*
Jo: “ gross I didn’t know Chris allowed Poofhead to return?”
Daniel: “*spraying his head* what did you say about my girl?”
Jo: “ of course only a dumb guy who gets with poofhead would do what she wants”
Daniel: “ and that’s coming from the girl who could easily be mistaken for a guy”
Jo: “What?! Only lightning thought I was a Guy!”
Daniel: “ no at first glance most people thought you were a guy. The only reason no one thought you were a guy was because you were sleeping in the girls cabin, and you actually do have the boobs. I happen to know that your name is Josephine” *jo looked mortified*
Jo’s confessional: “how on earth did brattniel, that my name is Josephine?!”
Daniel’s confessional: “ no I didn’t know her name until now the look she had on her face actually told me all I needed to know *laughs*”
————————————————————————————————————
Zoey: “ we should divide our area into section and each day in one”
Courtney: “ no let’s separate the beach into quadrants each pick a quadrant”
Cameron: “ that’s exactly what Zoey said”
Courtney : “ then good we use the plan that Zoey and I came up with”
Eric : “ you mean the plan that only Zoey came up with? Just because you worded better doesn’t mean it’s your plan.”
Courtney : “ but I still came up with it”
Zoey: “ the more we bicker the more the villains are going to take the lead. Go team.”
Everyone but Courtney: “ go team”
Courtney : “*grumbles* yeah yeah yeah yeah can we start digging now?”
Courtney’s confessional: “ what’s with the loving? Hello, it’s called total drama not total friendship friendship,”
Eric‘s confessional: “ Courtney may be a smart player, but if she doesn’t start acting like a team player, then maybe she should be the next one taking the flush of shame, we are called the heroic hamsters, not the villainous , hamsters”
————————————————————————————————————
Jo: “ strategy, people, strategy. We should start at one end dig to the other in a straight line”
Heather: “ and what if the pieces are in the far end, huh? We need two lines that push in towards the center. Right guys”
Lightning: “ ain’t nobody telling lightning where to dig I am my own man”
Daniel : “ what about we steal the hamsters idea of dividing the beach into quadrants and each selects quadrant. And since we are seven, we are bound to find a pieces faster than the hamsters.”
Heather and Jo: “ you shut up nobody asked for your opinion”
Daniel : “ old Heather and Miss sweatpants just told me to shut up fine, *walk away angrily grumbling*”
Daniel ‘s confessional: “ when the team is filled with people who are used to having their own ideas and leading each of their teams, nobody listens to anyone and I don’t wanna go to the loser cabin, so those two better put their head in the game and stop fighting for control of the team that’s gonna be their downfall”
————————————————————————————————————
Eric: “Sam you need help?”
Sam: “* struggling* no no I go it, no need to worry “
Eric: “okay. *walks to another quadrant *”
————————————————————————————————————
Heather: “ fine we’ll work in a circular motion towards the center”
Jo: “no! Start with the corners then move to the center in zig zag “
Gwen: “*sighs* some team”
Heather: “exactly, a team without a leader is like a horse without a head, it just runs around blind”
Gwen: “I’m pretty sure a horse without a head doesn’t run anywhere “
Daniel “*laughs digging* are you confusing horses with chickens now?”
Jo: “Right? Which is why I should be this team’s leader!”
Heather: “ no I should!”
Daniel: “ a leader doesn’t impose himself he leads without forcing people to follow his lead but you girls do what you think is best”
Jo: “let’s let the team decide!”
Heather: “fine! *walks to one side* Lightning “
Jo: “ *walks the o the way calling Scott like a dog* come here Scott, Scott”
Daniel: “one of those girls would be our down fall”
Gwen: “ugh I give up!*trips and falls in front of Alejandro*
Alejandro: “ I hope you know that I appreciate your efforts, you are as wise as your skin is translucent”
Daniel’s Confessional: “Wow that guy is smooth like butter… I guess having all the villains in one team plus The gothball punk kisser in one team was definitely a bad Idea”
Gwen’s confessional: “I know he is evil but…. Oof those eyes”
Lightning’s Confessional: *continues to vomit*
————————————————————————————————————
Jo: “attention team! I am your leader!”
Heather: “No, I am your leader! *sticks the Shovel on the ground and hits piece * I found a piece!”
Daniel: “great now we find 6 more the same way *rolls his eyes with a smirk as Heather lift her piece and Jo goes to fight her for it*”
Jo: “you’d never have found it without me *Heather drops it on Jo’s foot* aaaaaaah!”
Heather: “oops sorry *jo pushes her down the moat*”
Daniel: “*laughs more* best team reunion Ever *walks away to keep digging*”
Chris: “two booby traps! Two puzzle pieces and two deliciously evil moats, it’s still anyone’s game but it won’t be for long right here! On Total! drama! all stars!”
————————————————————————————————————
Chris: “an hour has passed and the teams are still tied one all. *whispering* which raises a pertinent question *now he raises voice* what is taking so long!”
Sierra :”we don’t have shovels!” Sam: “I have sands on my shorts!” Eric: “Don’t rush me!” Jo: “Ah hush! Lightning: “I’m amazing!” Daniel: “You do it then!”
Chris: “Blah blah blah, whine, whine! hurry up! I have dinner plans!”
————————————————————————————————————
Eric: “Nothing on my quadrant! *steps on a trap and gets cover in itching powder*is this… ITCHING POWDER! *yells and starts scratching like crazy* This is so Wrong! *runs towards the ocean to try and clean the itching power off*
Daniel: “*laughs* oh my! That’s hilarious!”
Scott: “Wow, not cool! *glares at Daniel*”
Daniel: “Come on Scott, That’s a hero in pain better him than us right?”
Scott: “Yeah, better them but not Eric!”
Daniel: “Eric is my brother, is my job to laugh at his misfortune besides he looks like a dog trying to sratch himself!”
Scott “*punches him in the faces and makes him bleed a bit,*”
Daniel’s confessional: “*clutching his nose* what is wrong with Scott? Last year he and my brother were at eachothers throat because Eric had threatened Him he would get him eliminated if he kept throwing the rats Challenges and now he is defending him. Does…, he likes Eric? Ew no, that’d be gross, no dirt boy is good enough for my older brother, I prefer him to date Alejandro again instead of going with Scott”
Scott’s confessional: “I’m not attracted to Eric, he just kept it a secret that I threw my teams challenges, so I do owe him one. Hector is a nice guys but he is not a snitch… and kind of cute…. Did I just said that ?! I meant for a guys he is cute… I’m going to stop talking now…”
Eric’s confessional: “*still scratching* did I see correctly? Did Scott punches Danny for laughing at me? Huh he might have a heart under neath his, musty, dirt stained, fit m good looking…. Wait what was I saying again?”
Sierra's confessional: "holy Cody! Did you see that? Scott defending Eric? Those two have the same tension as Heather and Alejandro had I'm season 3. I totally Ship Scoric... Or Erott... Huh I don't know which one sounds better?"
————————————————————————————————————
Heather: “come on people put this thing together already!”
Daniel: “*clutching. His nose with one hand* it’d be faster if you actually helped!”
Alejandro: “try those two together! No those two!”
Lightning: “Lightning finds the final piece I’m a hero!it’s probably a statue of me! being me!”
Daniel’s confessional: “okay, I see that Old Heather and Alehandjerk are only good for giving orders and not actually being team players.”
Gwen: “it’s tall whatever it is and boxy… like a tower… oh Big Ben!”
————————————————————————————————————
Zoey: “one piece to go, it has to be in Sam’s Quadrant”
Sam: “sorry guys I’m moving as Fast as I can”
Cameron: “all we need it the torch, Hurry!”
Eric: “alright! I’ll be useful and get that torch!”
————————————————————————————————————
Heather: “what’s with the big hole?”
Gwen: “maybe we put it together wrong?”
Daniel: “doesn’t Big Ben usually Have a clock in the same place that hole is?”
Lightning: “oh come on! Just get it Sha done! *the sculpture falls*”
Jo: “way to go liability!”
Lightning: “it’s not my fault you out it together wrong”
Alejandro: “we didn’t put it together wrong! There are only six pieces”
Jo: “great! So lightning miscounted! Come on everyone, we still have digging to do”
Daniel: “I knew you were dumb brightning but not I don’t know how to count dumb!”
————————————————————————————————————
Eric: “*moves Sam with the help of Mike and Zoey* Viola! The torch!”
Zoey: “*grabs the torch and Thor’s it towards the sculpture and it lands perfectly*”
Hamsters: “*cheers*”
Chris: “the heroic hamsters win!”
Villainous Vulture: *groans*
Mike, Zoey, Sam, Eric: *cheers*
Sierra and Courtney: “Spa Hotel! Spa Hotel!”
Chris: “ehem! I do require a volunteer for exile duty!”
Sam: “this one is on me guys to make up for my lack of diggings skills and… aaah”
————————————————————————————————————
Gwen: “hey Courtney I just wanted to say congrats on….*activates booby trap and hits the Trash bag towards Courtney accidentally*”
Courtney: “*coughs* ew!”
Gwen: “that was an accident! I didn’t mean —-“
Chris: “Gwen Gwen Gwen, so evil! You are definitely on the right team”
Daniel: “dont listen to him Gwen! I know these are just unfortunate mistakes."
Gwen: "you believe I'm not doing it on purpose?"
Daniel: "of course! Even if Courtney did deserve that I know you aren't evil to do that sort of thing"
Gwen: "thank Daniel!"
Daniel's Confessional: "step one on making an Alliance with Gwen! Side with her. If she sees that I totally am With her in her 'accidents' she will think I'm nice. Oh yeah the wolf in sheep's clothing strikes!"
Gwen: "I though I was the only good person in the Villains team! I never thought Daniel had a kind heart!"
————————————————————————————————————
Vultures Votes:
Alejandro: Lightning
Daniel: Jo
Duncan: Lightning
Gwen: Lightning
Heather: Jo
Lightning: Jo
Jo: Lightning
Scott: Lightning
Daniel’s confessional: “I would vote off lightning for being too dumb to count correctly, but if we need an athletic player for a more athletic demanding challenge Lightning is 10 times better than Jo so yeah my vite goes for Jo!”
————————————————————————————————————
Order they receive the marshmallow
Duncan
Gwen
Scott
Daniel
Alejandro
Heather
Jo (bottom 2)
Lightning (eliminated)
————————————————————————————————————
Next Episode:
Saving Private Leechball
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floareadeaur · 2 months
Text
Chapter 134 Flashback detailed analysis ( A documentary about Ferid Bathory )
— The second part —
This is a continuation of this analysis about Ferid. I am basically studying every panel in the flashback that Ferid recalls in chapter 134, because I feel that each scene conveys a certain message and is a key to Ferid's character.
We were at this sequence in the second panel of the flashback:
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And I explain how Ferid makes this facial expression as soon as his older brother appears on the scene.
How from the desolate look of a few seconds ago, his expression turns thoughtful. Ferid, again, seems very "small" here, like he is been caught by someone and has to think about how to react in order not to be somehow vulnerable.
And that is exactly what he does next.
For immediately Ferid's expression changes radically, approaching an enthusiastic and childish smile.
A mechanical smile, a learned one, which is just a mask.
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The reality of Ferid versus the façade he shows to his elder brother:
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"Ah! Elder Brother!
Or should I be calling you 'your majesty' now? I can't remember. "
" I can't remember. "
Ferid can not forget anything no matter how much he wants to. This very reply of his is a lie, as is the mask he adopts.
Further, we observe this behavior perpetuated. This "adorable, silly little brother" attitude:
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His older brother begins to tell him about the fate of their kingdom, about the responsibilities they both have.
It is very, very interesting how this brother's presentation begins. He seems very altruistic and "good" at first.
But if we analyze this panel well, we can see how the older brother is the one who is standing, who tells Ferid to let him go, who does not lean towards Ferid. He is the one looking down at Ferid.
And that symbolizes the power dynamic between them very well.
For the elder brother is the heir, the prince of the crown, the one who is now king, and Ferid is only the second born, born to serve this king.
This idea is greatly emphasized in the next panel:
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Here Ferid is literally on his knees in front of his older brother:
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The way Ferid keeps his hands on his knees, the way he talks from that kneeling position to his brother.
It was not the older brother who bent down to give Ferid his hand to get up. But Ferid is the one who gets up by himself and ends up kneeling in front of this brother.
And what does Ferid say when he is on his knees?
" Naaah. You're so much more talented than I am, I'll stay out of the way."
It is a mockery of his own capabilities, of his own person, a continuous humiliation.
Ferid humiliates himself in front of this older brother.
And it is worth mentioning what Ferid confesses in chapter 91 of the manga.
"I've always been perfectly normal. Especially for someone who was second in line for a royal throne."
"I had such a strict upbringing. They were teaching me to be a saint."
This self-humiliation was induced to Ferid. Because he was born to serve his brother, not to be himself.
Especially, it is another quote.
"How scary. But, ever since I was born, I have never been silent. As Papa and Mama have said. Ever since I came out of the womb, I had an incorrigible mouth. Even so, they were still my parents. What was it again. What were we talking about~ Anyways──" ( Wrat 19, volume 1, chapter 1 )
"Incorrigible" meaning "uncontrollable", "impossible to correct".
So Ferid was seen this way for who he really was, starting from the moment of his birth. And this strict, repressive education was forced upon him.
Ferid was thus depersonalized all his life.
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This sequence is telling. His older brother points out Ferid's intelligence, how if he did not visibly help him, then the court was splitting into two warring faction.
Practically, Ferid, this younger brother, the second born, was the one capable of politically directing an entire kingdom, better than the heir.
But Ferid was reduced to the level of a shadow, a servant of this heir.
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And that is why Ferid acts like this.
The way he is drawn here, with this mechanical smile. I think this sequence best conveys the "obedient saint" role Ferid was forced to play.
His expression shows very well the corset Ferid is in, how those lines he says are a learned behavior in his family. Because through this humble, obedient attitude, he is validated, accepted.
His older brother shows him kindness, but, if I may say so, this "kindness" resembles that offered to a dog.
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In this panel we have the older brother talking about his dream of doing what their father could not, that of conquering the world.
Ferid listens and even claps, again, just like a dog barking approval at his master's words.
And the big brother continues, first saying that Ferid could make this "dream" come true, then correcting himself that they both can do it.
Is this what it is about?
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" No, you're smarter than I am.
You have a lot of powerful support too.
If you weren't clearly helping me...
...the court might've split into two warring factions. "
The fact that the older brother is somehow aware that Ferid is smarter than him as a leader, that he is better than him.
And that is why this brother wants Ferid to be his "helper" in achieving this dream
A dream that belongs only to the older brother.
Again Tumblr limits my images. But I will continue in the next post.
Small advertising break and do not forget that kind feedback is welcome!
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notbadweird · 2 years
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Ok Time To Rant…3.07 Has Given Me All The Willpower I Needed To Be Heartbroken Enough To Come Back Here. (Sorry About The Gaps)
Ok First Things First, Something I’ll Never Understand Is How Come The Only Person Who Cares About This Show Is Ej. Yeah I Know Carlos Did His Little Plan To Get Channing To Not Leave But I Hate How Everyone Is Telling Ej To Lighten Up As If This Documentary Isn’t Going To Be Showed All Around The World. Like Do Y’all Want To Fail & Be Humiliated For Everyone To See? Cause That’s The Vibe I’m Getting From Literally Everyone. All Ej Has Done Was Try To Create A Perfect Show For All Of His Friends So They Can Shine Like The Stars He Knows They Are & So Far He Seems To and Getting Nothing But Criticized For Caring So Much About Them. How Come Ricky Was Able To Put All His Focus Into Making A Good Show For The Sake Of Nini But When Ej Does It It’s Wrong? I Know There Are Some Things He Could Have Done Better, But The Intention Behind Most Of That Was So Others Wouldn’t Worry. And What Is Up With The Writers Pushing You Have To Know EVERYTHING YOU WANT IN LIFE BY THE TIME YOU ARE 18!?!?!?! That Is Such A Toxic Mindset & I Feel So Sorry For The Kids Of These Writers Cause Clearly They Have Been Pushed To These Horrible Standards. There Are So Many People In This World Who Are Still Figuring Themselves Out Late In Life. WHY DO PEOPLE PUT AN AGE LIMIT TO EVERYTHING. Have Kids By This Age, Have A House By This Age, Be Retired At This Age, Be Financially Ready By This Age IT NEVER ENDS!!! Literally All Ej Wanted Was To Have One Last Summer Of Feeling Like A Kid & It Was Literally Highjacked From Him & It Is So Heartbreaking. He Only Wanted To Have Fun With His Girlfriend But Instead Was Given A Task That Shouldn’t Have Been His Responsibility In The First Place.
Now I Know We Don’t Have The Exact Month This Summer Is Taking Place In But I Think I Can Say With Confidence It Has Been Over A Month Since Portwell Started Dating So For Gina To Say That Their Relationship Never Started Felt Like A Low Blow. What Happened To The Compassionate Gina From The Couch Scene? The Gina Who Saw Him Trying Hard To Do The Right Thing Even When He Failed? Is That Episode Deleted? Did Their Memories Get Erased Since Then Because That’s What They Are Acting Like. Like It Never Even Happened & The Understanding Side Of Them Was Completely Obliterated. I Cannot Believe All It Took Was Not Even A Full Two Weeks To Demolish Almost Two Months Worth Of Buildup. So What If He Has Already Done Everything? He Had Already Done Everything Before He Even Knew You! That Felt Highly Irrelevant To The Argument. He Didn’t Care About Already Doing It, He Just Wanted To Do It With You. Did She Forget Once Again He Never Wanted To Be Director, I Know He Has The Title But She Should Never Acted Like It Was Something He Wanted When They Came Here Together. This Breakup Felt Exactly Like Rini’s, The Girl Breaks Down Crying, A Good While Later We See The Girl Again & She Seems Fine, The Boys Break Down Later. It’s Not Like He Ignored Her On Purpose! Your Partner Being Busy Isn’t A Excuse To Make Them Feel Bad About Being A Busy. I Get How She Feels I Do, I’ve Only Been In One Relationship In My Life & I’m Still In It & In The Beginning I Was Worried Too. Wondering If I Was A Good Girlfriend, What Is He Doing, Why Isn’t He Texting Me, All That Stuff Going On In My Mind. Once I Learned What He Was Going Through I Eased Up On My Worrying & Didn’t Make Him Feel Bad For Being Busy Because When He Wasn’t Always Talking To Me, He Was Doing Stuff To Help Our Future & That’s Why We Are Four Years Strong. Ej Literally Put His Stress & Mental Health On The Line So This Show Would Be Perfect, Do I Wish He Communicated Of Course But At The Same Time, Why Should Gina Worry About His Problems When She Has A Show She Has To Focus On? Everything Goes Back To This Performance & Ej Wanting It To Be Great Because He Sees The Potential In Everyone. I’ve Seriously Come To The Conclusion That Someone Plays Favorites Annnnddd Matt Deserves Better & I Hope He Gets Better. Things That Weren’t Needed. Ricky Trying To Joke About Making Slapping A Tradition. That Slap Wasn’t Needed In The First Place, Especially After What Was Implied During The Scene. Carlos’ Body Dysmorphia Storyline Came Out Of Nowhere & Seemed To Be Solved In Two Episodes. This Could’ve Been Really Good If It Started In The Beginning Of The Season, Like Kourt’s Anxiety. You Already Know The Breakup Didn’t Need To Happen But Here Is The Biggest Thing That Didn’t Need To Happen…Portwell
I Know What You’re Thinking But Lemme Just Explain. Something I Am Always Hearing From Gicky’s Is How Much Tim Loves Gicky & How It Was Planned From The Start. Okay That’s Totally Fine, But One Thing That Irks Me Is That Tim Did Not Need To Create Portwell…But He Did. From What We Saw After The Rini Breakup Was That It Didn’t Take Ricky Too Long To Move Onto Lily Which Tells Me This. If Gina Had Pined For A Good While Longer & Stayed Away From Ej, Soon Rini Would Have Broken Up & Something I Am Constantly Hearing From Gicky’s Is How Well Ricky & Gina Know Each Other & It Is Because Of That They Would Find Their Way Back To Each Other. Okay Cool, So With That Being Said, Rini Breakup Happens & Since They Know Each Other So Well, Eventually Tim Could’ve Had Gicky Reconnecting In 2.10 After The Breakup Cause That Is When Lily Started Connecting With Ricky But The Difference Is Him & Gina Have More Chemistry Than He Does With Lily Which Would’ve Made The Moving On Even Quicker. Tim Could’ve Started Them In 2.10 Then Boom Gicky Endgame Season 2 But No He Decided To Create A Ship That So Many People Love For The Sake Of Another Ship Which Is Wrong On So Many Levels. Why Did You Have To Waste Our Time Like That? Why Did You Spend So Much Time Showing Us A Couple That Understood Each Other Just To Throw It Away The Following Season. You Would’ve Been Better Off Not Giving Us Portwell At All. I Heard Episode 8 Will Be Better For Us Portwell’s But That Doesn’t Change The Anger I Have In My Body Right Now.
Night Everyone…
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Even though I agree with your post about how we as dark skin/minority have to work harder for the bare minimum , I would like to take to consideration that other ethnicities specially white in my perspective only seem to have an advantage because they mostly are more submissive like they are more likely to put up with a lot of stuff that is unacceptable just to keep their place on the scale, plus white people were the powerful ones centuries ago and they set the rules for their own kind to win and anything else specially black people to lose on pretty much everything, also not everything is what it seems on the outside it looks like they are treated better and a lot of the time they, of course but at what cost? they also deal with humiliation and disrespect and abuse like any other women do, and then this system creates competition for different ethicities to try to accept things and want to please the ones with power so they are not treated as bad as the ones below but from my point of view is all an illusion to keep the competition going of course the ones who are privileged to have certain benefits by their color of skin and so on but from my point of view is just like the fool following the carrot just enough to keep them going but still as disrespected and fucked up as the rest of us but more likely behind close doors and praised on the outside and we black women, I personally interpret it as the scapegoat that has to deal with of course the worse part because a lot of times we are not willing to accept certain things and also the society needs someone to fulfil this role of the scapegoat and that have been the minority who actually is not even minority, is part of the smoke screen being casted to keep us all stuck on this mindset we are not deserving and we have done that for centuries because of the lack of knowledge, opportunities and a lot of unjust competition, jealousy, hatred but even still with all that society wants what we have and that's why they also copy us everything but do not give us the respect, credit or acknowledgment we deserve as equals, I don't know if my point will come across correctly, English is not my first language and btw I am not saying I have the last word at all, there are too many things that come into the equation but at least I think it's something to think about, not everything is what it seems and also encourage us black women not to feel inferior because we are worthy of everything we thought we couldn't have, we need to change this mindset we have been passing on for generations and break free from believing what others have to say and take it as the true, and also being ok with occupying space and honor ourselves, we just need to own it and not let the mindset and bad vibes of others make us feel like we are not deserving or we are ugly because we are not❤❤❤
Hello,
I agree with everything you said, your advice and fully understand your message. From that post I made a few months ago, I feel as it cracked me a little because I let outside conditions make me feel I wasn’t worth my weight. I learned it’s really hard to break generational habits and social media conditions you every second if you let it.
Conditioning is a hard pill to swallow since the point is to pad the true messenger and make their thoughts someone else’s. I had to question myself over the last few weeks since asking why something is X, Y and Z even though it’s always been that way is bound to offend them.
Whenever I’d step out of conditioning, every moment felt out of body and I’d receive backlash from people I thought would understand the most. I mentioned before when I stayed off of social media to experience life as it is, nothing was what it seemed and the front door became a metaphor for the faux hierarchy while the side door is the private entrance for those who know.
It’s a shock to have blinders taken off of me for my hair choices especially. Seeing myself with completely straight hair that lacked texture vs. textured, blown out yet straightened hair was like looking at a stranger. Why was it I looked unrecognizable with texture similar to my own, and now with 2A straight hair, I wanted to trash it entirely??
I found out I didn’t like the contrast 2A hair had on my face and nose compared to long 4A hair making my own features stand out. When I was in high school, I also didn’t like how extra long, straight locks magnified insecurities I never knew I had??? 2A made me innately feel like I had to contour my nose to match the hair (even though I’d never ever go to that length & it was never something I’d think) or else it looked like it was wearing me.
It was just 2 years ago femininity became natural for me. It’s really a generational milestone and took blood, sweat and tears just like the journeys we’re all proactively on.
Thank you,
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neptoons1998 · 1 year
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Chilli Brownies
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
A/N: One day I'll learn how to write a good ending for a chapter.
Chapter 3
Change can be a good thing. To W’kabi, he thought change was a good thing all the time; it was all based on perspective.  Looking back on his life he realized that he cause too much to hurt too many people he cared for. One person that came to mind was Okoye. The soft-spoken young woman, whose ambition couldn’t be tamed, “I never meant to hurt you like that. Back at the wedding, but it seems like I still did,” W’Kabi spoke out. This new Okoye gave a scoff as she crossed her arms, That’s one way of saying, “What do you want?”
W’Kabi gave a humorless laugh, “Always to the point with you. You were never one for playing the long game of politeness.”
Okoye just stared at the man, waiting for him to decide if he wants to face the consequence of his actions or not. W’Kabi realized that this Okoye was different from the one he knew during his college years. He could still see a few glances of the old one. The way her anger was cold and stand-offish. 
"I didn't deserve that, y’know. You could have told me. That you weren’t ready for marriage. But instead made a fool out of me. I- I did nothing to be treated like that," Okoye croaked out. Her feelings were all over the place. She knew she need to accept his apology in order to move on. To help her not to be unstuck, so that she could be in love with Attuma properly. The woman couldn’t lie she waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something as nice and loving as Attuma, there has to be something she wasn’t looking at. Okoye knew she just need to hear him say those words and just accept it.  
But the other half, the rightfully justified wanted him to beg for her forgiveness. Okoye breathed through her nose, to keep her from crying, He will not get that out of me, Okoye gritted her teeth, “Have you ever really loved me, W’Kabi? All those years, late nights as we spoke about our future. Hell, did you even like me?"
Okoye couldn’t help herself the questions were all she would think of when she was by herself. Okoye is always the bridesmaid never the bride. She couldn’t look at her uncle’s directions for couples before she shaved her head and open the bakery shop. She needs to know, because what scared her the most; could she ever move on? After she accepts his apology now what? W’Kabi gave a tired sigh as he shook his head, “What I want-what I want is to say I’m sorry, Okoye. For all the hurt and humiliation I put you through.”
“I forgive you, now please leave,” Okoye said waving her left hand as if he would magically disappear. W’Kabi shook his head, her reaction wasn’t supposed to be like this; To W’Kabi she would forgive him. Her reaction was supposed wide-eyed with excitement that their relationship was being rekindled. He wasn’t expecting this cold delivery in her voice. As if he was some child that she had to forgive. 
“I don’t think you heard me, “W’Kabi said as he gripped Okoye’s wrist, “I said I am sorry.”
“Don’t touch me,” Okoye growled out trying to yank her wrist free from her ex’s grip, “Leave me alone, W’Kabi.”
W’Kabi glared at her, “Why are you making things so difficult? I said I am sorry and I want us to be us again but like our time in college.”
“I am not some doll you can pick up and play with again,” Okoye snapped at him. Why am I struggling? Where’s Aneka? Okoye thought worriedly. The woman was regretting her decision on handling W’Kabi herself now, with Aneka at least there was some type of a barrier. 
I’m alone to handle this problem, she thought as she continues ripped her hand free. 
“Attuma,” She whispered she wasn’t sure when he arrived. Attuma made W’kabi release his grip around Okoye’s wrist, “Leave.” 
“So that’s how it is huh?” W’Kabi asked as he staggered away from the couple, “Fine. Have her. She wasn’t worth my time anyway.”
A few beats of silence were between the two. Okoye trying to gather thoughts on what just happened and how she will have to explain this Atttuma. 
“I had it handled y’know,” She mumbled. The woman cursed herself, always the defense with you, she thought as she went around back. She knew Attuma was following her like a big shadow. She went into the small room of the bakery where they kept their cleaning products. She placed her hands on the broom, those fallen donuts weren’t going to pick up themselves. 
“I know, but I don’t think he would’ve listened otherwise,” Attuma explains as he laced his large hands around hers, “Are you okay?” Okoye too prideful, “Yes and  thanks for your help.”
Attuma smiled at her, “I’m glad, now let me look at your wrist.”
“I said I was fine, “Okoye stummered as Attuma gently cradle her wrist. Her wrist was in pain, would probably bruise in the morning. But Okoye can handle that when it comes.
“My love, I’m not sure anyone has told you but you’re a horrible liar,” Attuma placed a soft kiss on her wrist. Okoye could only groan as he walked them upstairs to her condo.
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safetycar-restart · 2 years
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Hello. You were saying how you were in your pierre and George feels rn so what about doing a scene with both of them. So you see George on the grid while you are walking with pierre and you and pierre have always wanted to try somthing with George and now this was the time, you two both go up and ask him about it and surprisingly he agrees and yous are both shocked. So he comes over one day not sure about what he's got himself in to because he knows that pierre likes it rough and he has never tried somthing like that so he is still confused but he brushes it off, George walks in and sees pierre on his knees kneeling for you.... and you can continue x just a thought 🏎
Ok so this is a dynamic I had never considered before but now that I think about it.... I’m kinda obsessed?
Cause like, they both like high protocol scenes and some pretty hectic kinks. Of course the main difference is that Pierre likes humiliation, degradation and punishment while George absolutely hates those.
I think that George would assume the type of rough Pierre liked was ALWAYS humiliation snd punishment. Hence why he had never approached you before, because he knows he can’t handle those things.
But damnit, George wanted to be pushed around! He wanted to be manhandled and controlled and treated like he was someone else’s property. He didn’t want to be demeaned or ridiculed, but he didn’t want to be his own person either.
And so yeah, hes curious when you and Pierre approach him and ask. I think that for you and Pierre, threesomes would be pretty common? So it’s not that strange for you guys to go up to someone and ask if they want to fuck.
George is SO nervous when he arrives, thought of course he tries to remind himself that he can always safeword out if it gets too much.
I think that George would learn so much in that’s scene. Both about himself and about kink dynamics as a whole.
He walks in and Pierre is kneeling for you. The strange thing is, you’re smiling softly at Pierre as he sucks your fingers and Pierre just looks completely blissed out. It’s not the type of submission George expected from Pierre at all.
You and Pierre both hear him arrive, smiling at him and motioning for him to join you. Without even thinking, he drops down on his knees next to Pierre.
He smiles so wide when you side “good boy” and run your hand through his hair.
I think that throughout the scene, Pierre shows George how he can obey the rules while also being more relaxed. He shows George that he doesn’t have to always be on the edge of his seat, focusing entirely on trying not to break the rules.
George will never be a brat or injury the humiliation that Pierre does, but.... sitting on your lap, head resting on your shoulder while you keep an arm around him while you degrade Pierre? That is quiet possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
He gets to feel like prize, sitting proudly on your lap while Pierre is made to follow your instructions (all of which have to be done while a plug is vibrating in his ass).
You jerk George off slowly, hearing his little whines in your ear as Pierre sets about his tasks.
It’s definitely a dynamic worth repeating.
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sparxwrites · 2 years
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Heyo I've gone through the entirety of your dsmp tag and god some of these character takes are just soo hhhh <33 Really not a fan of non-con but at least the way you wrote it in snapshots feels more like describing a terrible thing by focusing on the thoughts of the ppl involved rather than like, writing porn which is just,,, really refreshing and effective. Left me cringing but in a good way.
Made me start thinking on how many of these headcanons and stuff you often write are like, permanent in your version of the dsmp. Like which of them are in the background of all/most fics or drabbles you write. I get that the Dream in 'joking' doesn't transfer to other fics but;
The question is basically, did the Q you wrote in 'disgust' go through the same or similar events as 'snapshots'? Cause like god sweetie that is not gonna make you feel better.
hello! thank you for the very kind ask - i'm continually blown away by people liking my stuff.
i think there's a couple of things to touch on here and the first is that, with the exception of the quackity/techno thing (which even then, straddles the line pretty weirdly), i have not written noncon for dsmp. what i've written is characters who've been raped, with that alluded to in various levels of explicitness. "noncon" is not just a 'polite' word for rape - historically, it was associated with sexualised rape, rape fantasies, etc. i think this is a distinction worth trying to preserve in fandom, because a) it helps to point out that rape fantasy stuff is fantasy, it's almost a separate thing from rape entirely, because rape is horrific and a violation and not remotely sexy, and b) you end up with people talking in euphemisms around rape, which i think gives the word 'rape' a sort of undeserved power. name the thing! the quackity in snapshots is a rape survivor.
re: how much carries over... this is a weird one. so you're correct in saying that the dream in joking doesn't transfer to other fics - the dream in aftermath is not specifically written as attracted to minors. but... he's still like, the same read of dream that inspired joking: a very intense person, a very fucked up person, someone who has kind of destroyed his own morals and humanity and very successfully lied to himself that he can do whatever he wants and it's justified. and, of course, someone who is bewilderingly obsessed with and fixated on tommy, for whatever reason - of which pedophillic attraction is only one of many plausible narrative motivations.
in the same way, the quackity in my other fics (including disgust) didn't necessarily go through the exact same events as in snapshots. but quackity is, imho, canonically an abuse victim. certainly he's canonically a victim of domestic violence and verbal/emotional abuse - schlatt hits and belittles him on camera regularly. given that a lot of that verbal abuse and humiliation is sexual in nature (about quackity's ass; about how he's a 'beta' or a 'bitch'), i headcanon that he's a survivor of sexual abuse also. whether that's outright rape by force, as occurs in snapshots, or whether it's 'just' coerced sex (through pressuring him, through alcohol/drugs, through threats), varies, but... in everything i write, quackity has a history of sexual abuse.
so: very long answer to say, yes, the quackity in disgust is also a sexual assault survivor. yes, he's handling it very badly, and no, it's not making him feel better, but like hell is he going to let that stop him. he's doing what all my post-schlatt quackities do, which is deciding that the best lesson to learn from schlatt is that if he behaves more like schlatt, this will improve his life and stop him from being victimised again. it's not working, but hey- he's got nothing else to cling to, other than a desperate desire to be powerful, so people will stop hurting him, and this is the only idea he has. so he'll take what he can fucking get.
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