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lovelybucky1 · 7 months

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Nice Guys Finish Last

Kinktober Day 9- Hair Pulling

warnings: hair pulling, oral sex (f!receiving), name calling, face riding, dom/sub dynamics, fwb(?), crime, tattooed and pierced anakin, 18+ minors DNI

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Picking up Anakin from the police station yet again is not what you thought you’d be doing with your night. Your he is always getting into some kind of trouble and it always somehow becomes your responsibility to save his sorry ass.

It’s the third time this month you’ve had to get him and to say you’re pissed is an understatement. You honestly couldn’t believe the officer when he told you Anakin was taken in for vandalism. He was caught tagging a building with some buddies. How fucking juvenile.

You signed the proper paperwork and Anakin was following you out of the station. Somehow, with his pretty boy charm, he always gets off with a warning. Some day he won’t be so lucky, and you may not feel bad for him when that day comes.

“I can’t fucking believe you, Anakin!” you yell once you’re in the car.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Anakin huffs.

“Don’t give me that. I’m the one bailing you out in the middle of the night for fucking around with a can of spray paint.”

Anakin glares at you from the passenger seat. “Thanks,” he mutters.

“Why am I always the one you call? You know I won’t let you rot at the station and all your other friends are getting arrested with you?” It’s a rhetorical question; you know that’s exactly why you’re his call.

“You’re my best friend. That’s why you’re the one I call,” he says. “Sorry if I’m such an inconvenience for you.”

“Do not guilt trip me, Anakin. You are so fucking irresponsible and yeah, you are inconveniencing me because it’s Saturday night and I had plans that I left to come save you.”

Anakin raises his eyebrows at the mention of plans. “What plans?”

“Is that fucking important right now?”

Anakin wiggles his snakebites with his tongue as he looks at you. “Was it a date?”

You sigh heavily. “Yes it was.”

“First date?”

“Third.”

Anakin makes a huh noise faintly and you want to press him about it, but figure it’s better just to get him home and out of your sight before you punch him.

You start the car and pull out of the police station parking lot. You drive in silence for a few minutes, not having put on the radio in your rage.

“You weren’t drunk, were you?” you ask.

“Jesus,” he says, offended. “No, I wasn’t drunk.”

“Don’t act like that’s not a valid question. Do you have any idea how much stupid shit you do when you’re drunk?”

Anakin kicks his foot up on the dashboard and you quickly slap his thigh so he doesn’t scuff up your car with his obnoxious boot.

Before long, you turn into the parking lot of Anakin’s apartment complex and park in your usual spot. He gets out of the car, then you follow.

“You’re coming in?”

“I missed dessert. It’s the least you could do.”

Anakin attempts to smile at you, but that venture is short lived when he sees your annoyed expression illuminated by the street lights.

The two of you walk into the building and up the two flights of stairs to get to his door. He lets you in and you immediately walk over to the freezer, searching for something sweet.

“Ben’s out tonight,” he says.

“So was I, but you didn’t ask Ben to pick you up,” you respond, head still in the freezer.

“Come on, are we really gonna do this all night? Ben and I aren’t close like we are.”

You pick up a pint of half-eaten ice cream and close the freezer before opening all of the drawers until you find the spoons. You take the lid off the container and lean against the counter, glaring at Anakin where he sits at the counter.

“How was your date,” he asks.

“It was good until you dragged me away from it.”

Anakin looks down at his hands and twiddles his thumbs. “Where’d he take you?”

You fill your mouth with a spoonful of ice-cream. “The restaurant on 15th,” you respond.

Anakin furrows his brows. “That place is a dump. Why would he take you there?”

“It’s not about the food, it’s about the company.”

Anakin scoffs. “It sounds like your company is a cheap asshole who doesn’t know how to treat you.”

You stare silently at Anakin while thoughts race through your mind. The first time you got Anakin from the police station was right after your first date, and you were late your second date because you had to drive Anakin home. In an instant, anger seethes inside of you. You drop the ice cream and spoon on the countertop and storm over to the back of Anakin’s chair.

He turns his head to track your movements. When you reach him, you twist your fingers in his dark hair and pull. His head snaps back and he whines in protest.

“You son of a bitch,” you hiss.

“What?” he asks.

“You’ve been purposely ruining my dates by getting arrested.” He whimpers at the painful tug on his roots. “You can’t tell me it’s a coincidence that I’ve had to get you when I was on dates.”

“Let me go and we can talk about this,” he tries to reason.

“No, Anakin. You’re perfectly capable of talking to me like this.”

Anakin sighs. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“You’ve never even met him,” you scoff.

“I don’t need to! I know he isn’t.”

Anakin tries to look at you upside down. He’s playing with his lip rings again, a nervous habit of his.

“And how the fuck would you know that?” you ask.

“Because he’s not me.”

You freeze, and for a moment your grip on his hair loosens. “What?”

Anakin fights against your hold and manages to break free. He stands up from the stool and faces you, the tension in his brows obvious.

“I don’t want you to date that guy. Fuck, I don’t want you to date any guy. Everyone you’ve ever dated has been an asshole and you don’t deserve that.”

“So, what, you’re not an asshole?”

“I am, but I would treat you right.”

“By getting arrested every night for stupid shit?”

Anakin groans. “Can we please stop talking about it?”

You narrow your eyes at him as realization dawns on you. “Were you trying to cockblock me?” Anakin doesn’t respond. All he does is look down at his yellow laced boots to hide the flush on his cheeks. “It was my third date tonight and you knew that. You didn’t want me to go home with him.”

“Christ, no, it’s not like that-”

“Then what is it, Anakin?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I just don’t get what you see in him.”

“He’s nice.”

Anakin chuckles. “You don’t want nice.”

“You have no idea what I want.”

Anakin steps forward to crowd you against the counter. You’re not intimidated by him, despite the height difference. Anakin may be bigger and stronger in pretty much every physical way, but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. And you know his weak spot.

“Tell me, then. What do you want?”

“A nice guy with a good job, life goals, and no criminal record.”

Anakin places his hands on the counter on either side of your body. “But does nice make you cum?”

You gasp. “Anakin!”

“I’m serious. Does your nice, regular guy do it for you?” He looks intently at your face, searching for an answer. “Or is it only guys with tattoos and a criminal record that gets your blood pumping like this?”

“We’re friends, Anakin,” you say instead of answering his question.

“That doesn’t have to change.” You sigh and look over your shoulder to collect yourself for a moment, needing a break from Anakin’s piercing gaze. “You’re angry at me and I’m sure you’re pent up because you were planning on getting fucked tonight. Kill two birds with one stone and fuck me.”

“I can’t believe you,” you say, looking back at him.

He smirks, biting his lip. “It’ll be good, I promise. You can hit me, bite me, scratch me, whatever. Use me however you want and you’ll see why nice isn’t better.”

“Fine,” you bite.

“Where do you want me?” he asks.

You look around the open floor plan apartment. “The couch.”

“Not the bed?”

“Nice guys fuck on beds. I thought you were different.”

Anakin backs off of you and walks over to the couch, sitting lazily as we waits for you to come over. His arms are splayed over the back and his legs are spread obnoxiously. You sit on the couch next to him and look at him expectantly.

“You’re not gonna kiss me?” you ask.

Anakin shrugs. “I don’t kiss sluts.”

You raise your eyebrows at that. “I’m a slut?”

“Oh yeah,” he leans closer to you, grasping gently at your jaw. “That’s why we’re a good match. You’re a slut who needs to be fucked hard and dirty, and I’m a bad guy who loves sluts like you.”

Despite yourself, your heart rate picks up. You’re watching his lips, noticing how his tongue swipes across them. Anakin trails his hand up your thigh and inches it closer to your clothed pussy.

“I’m not gonna sit here and let you talk to me like that after the shit you pulled.”

Anakin backs off, his hands now kept to himself. “I’m all yours.”

You make a split second decision to crawl into his lap, and now that you’re seated on top of his thighs, you’re unsure what to do. His body is firm with muscle underneath you. You know he goes to the gym but you’ve never experienced his strength for yourself.

You push up the hem of his t-shirt and he takes the hint, raising his arms so you can pull it off. You’re met with the sight of his abs and chest covered with tattoos and the barbells that go through his nipples. You realize you’ve never seem him like this before and you curse yourself for not getting a glimpse sooner.

“You like what you see?” he asks cockily.

“Shut up, Anakin.”

You run your hands over his chest, dragging your nails down it to leave red marks on the pale skin. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of fucking you, but you are incredibly horny and need to get off.

“Lay down.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Talking to me like I’m a dog?”

“Yeah, I am. So be a good boy and lay down.”

You stand up from his lap and take off your bottoms while he changes positions. His legs are outstretched on the couch and his head is flat against the cushion.

You kneel on the couch, knees on either side of his head and you watch as he stares at your pussy.

“Like what you see?” you ask.

“Fuck yeah, I do. Been thinking ‘bout tasting this cunt since we met.”

Anakin reaches up to grab your hips and he pulls you down onto him. His nose hits your mound first, then you sit your pussy onto his mouth and chin.

He looks up at you from between your thighs as his tongue begins to explore between your folds. You wiggle your hips on top of him to get more friction, and to humiliate him a little by using him.

His nose bumps your clit as he licks thick stripes over your pussy. Anakin is attempting to taste every inch of you, and fuck, it feels good.

You reach down and grab his spiked hair with both hands like their reigns. You adjust yourself on his face so he’s hitting all the spots you want him to.

“Fuck, put your tongue inside me,” you order.

He does, and when you feel the hot muscle slide into you, you tug firmly on his hair. He groans into your pussy and fucks you with enthusiasm.

You pull on his hair again and his eyelids flutter. He clearly likes getting his hair pulled, and you enjoy causing him a little bit of pain.

“You got arrested all those times because you wanted me to sit on your fucking face? Why didn’t you just ask?”

You didn’t lift up so he could answer. It was a rhetorical question and if he stopped sucking on your clit, you would kill him.

“You were right, a nice guy wouldn’t let me drown him in my pussy.”

You grind down on his face and tug his head up to meet your body as you feel yourself getting closer.

“Don’t fucking stop, Anakin. I’m gonna cum,” you say.

His eyes are squeezed shut and his brows have a deep crease between them as he concentrates on pleasing you despite the ache that’s surely in his jaw.

“Fuck,” you gasp as you reach your peak.

Your thighs tighten around his head and he sucks firmly at your pussy to ride you through it. Your hips buck up, searching for more friction until your high passes.

You remain on him, but lean your hands back on his thighs to catch your breath. Your chest his heaving and your legs are shaking a bit.

Anakin pushes up on your thighs, signaling you to get off of him. You slide from his face down to his hips and straddle him there.

His hair is a mess, his face is wet, and his lips are swollen and red. “How was that?” he asks, voice rough.

“Nice,” you respond with a smirk.

Anakin glares at you. He sits up and grabs your hips tightly to hold you still as he grinds his hips on your ass. He spanks you with his right hand, making you gasp in surprise.

“I thought I got to do whatever I wanted?”

“You got your chance,” Anakin grumbles. “Now I’m not gonna be so nice.”

#anakin smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #anakin x reader #star wars #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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strwbmei · 7 months

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I was thinking about it the other day; Silver Wolf with a housepartner(?) s/o.

Wolf is, being nice, messy. With you, she genuinely believes you were sent by the Aeons. Her clothes are basically shining, her stomach is full of food she'd never even DREAM of eating, and what do you do?

"Oh, thank you, Wolfie~!"

She feels bad; she swears, if you're even SLIGHTLY proficient at video games, she's going to ride you into the sunset.

Provided, of course, you're probably a service top. Ack!

(I like you *gives you wholesome* /lh)

This is oddly wholesome and cute. I like it.

'Messy' is a very generous way to describe Silverwolf's living conditions. Somehow, every time you head out to buy groceries (Silverwolf says you should just stay in with her and order takeout online, but you insist that it'll give you more ease of mind if you're the one preparing her meals), you'll come back to the place absolutely trashed with clothes and cans of soda littered all over the place. Rather than getting upset, you're honestly just impressed.

She definitely feels bad about always making you clean up her mess, which comes with the fear that you'll get tired of her one day; so she shows her appreciation by being very clingy and cuddly with you whenever her focus isn't on a game. It's honestly a miracle that you've not once gotten angry at Silverwolf, still treating her so kindly and looking down at her with the most gentle and sincere smile no matter the amount of "inconveniences" she's caused you. Quotation marks on "inconveniences" because you can't help but want to take care of Silverwolf and make sure she's happy and healthy.

Still, she doesn't completely understand that. Poor Wolfie isn't exactly used to unconditional love and she can't help getting insecure sometimes. When words fail to make her see how important she is to you, sometimes you have to resort to actions. Actions like fucking her somehow exactly how she wants it. You two are just so in tune, you know what she's in the mood for without asking whether if it's soft, loving sex with you leaving soft kisses wherever you can reach and making her insecurities disappear completely; or rough sex when you stop holding back and fuck her animalistically. Though, one thing that never changes is how considerate and tender you are to her afterward.

This time, however— Silverwolf wanted to try something different. You're always the one who does all the work, whether it be around the house or in bed, so she wants to return the favor. Of course, you were supportive; but with how much you spoiled her in bed, you were a bit worried that she wouldn't be able to take you... And you'd be partially right. She'll be shaking and sighing blissfully with her eyes fluttered close as she lowers herself down on your cock because she's used to always having you on top of her or at least helping her out. Still, she insists that she can take it and make you feel good. She insists on trembling as she bounces on your cock even with her legs shaking and tears in her eyes since you haven't cummed yet.

She's supposed to be the one pleasing you— not the other way around...

#・❥・strwb inbox #・❥・strwb drabbles #smut #x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr smut #silverwolf hsr #silver wolf hsr #silver wolf x reader #silverwolf x reader #silverwolf #silverwolf smut #silver wolf #silver wolf smut

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letteredlettered · 3 months

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Hi! I was wondering are there any other pairings that you would consider for Draco and Harry? What appeals to you about those pairings?

Honestly, the only other person I ship Harry with is Ginny. I'm not likely to read Harry/Ginny fic, but that's a ship I can really imagine being happily ever after in a way that lives on in my head. Meanwhile I will totally read Harry/Snape, Harry/Sirius, or the crossgen ships, but I do not ship them and mostly really just want some nice smut in those corners of the fandom.

But for Draco, I ship Draco/Hermione in a major way. But I'm really afraid of reading fic for them because I'm just kind of assuming the dynamic will be a lot of a) Hermione deciding Ron isn't her intellectual equal and therefore is a bad partner, which is something I cannot stand and makes me almost want to like Ron out of sheer spite, b) Hermione deciding Malfoy is her intellectual equal and therefore a suitable partner, when he's really not; no one is her intellectual equal and that really is okay, c) Hermione deciding Malfoy is really hot and fuckable, or d) Malfoy deciding Hermione's gotten really hot and fuckable because she's smoothing down her hair and wearing fashionable clothes, which I despise viscerally.

Meanwhile all I've ever wanted in my life is Malfoy growing up and being a bit more mature and having some regrets and then meeting Hermione again and absolutely losing his mind for her. Like she is so smart and so talented and so powerful and so honorable and so good that he just worships her. And he's like "well that's very nice; I've turned over a new leaf and can respect a Muggleborn; I am an improved member of society," except his dick keeps being inconvenient about it.

And slowly Malfoy realizes that Hermione with her bushy hair and bad clothes is perhaps the hottest woman on earth. And it really, really sucks because Hermione is infinitely kind to him and the only person in this new society who has ever really given former Death Eaters, and also him specifically, a second chance. And she's so warm to him and generous and good and laughs at his little jokes. And also she would never be romantically interested in him in like. Ever.

She's literally never thought of him that way, not even once. She mostly pities him and kind of thinks he's a funny little guy. And Harry is like WTF he called you slurs and you were tortured in his house, and she's like, "We must move beyond our past, Harry," and she really does, but it literally never occurs to her that Malfoy is a man. He's a human being who deserves a chance. And at some point maybe someone even points out that Malfoy is a man that may have some kind of romantic or sexual desires in this world, like maybe they think Malfoy's a hunk and wonder who he might be dating, and Hermione is a startled by this because she's literally never considered it and then goes right back to not considering it, she has so little interest.

This is really the fic that I want to read. Like Draco making heart eyes for hundreds of pages and meanwhile Hermione pioneers space travel and the cure for cancer. BUT I would also be fine if eventually Hermione did notice him and return his affection, but only after like, a RIDICULOUS amount of him pining while she is so completely oblivious that she makes Wei Wuxian look super aware.

Anyway, that's my other main Draco ship, though I quite like Draco/Ginny too. I'm not sold on a particular ship dynamic, though I somehow doubt fic about them is really focused on the shared trauma of Voldemort befriending them and using them and threatening them and throwing them away, which is what I would really be into for them. I also just think they're kind of hot, I guess, though honestly most Ginny pairings are hot because she's hot.

I'll read some crossgen stuff and I'd possibly read like, idk, Draco/Lupin or Draco/Neville and like it, but I think my heart is really set on Draco/Harry or Draco/Hermione, even if I'll never read the latter.

#draco/hermione #draco/harry #harry/ginny #various harry potter ships #draco/ginny

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venusandsaturnsrings · 2 years

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i just got back from a trip and,,,,, frat bot childe u say 👀

- so picture this: young freshman college readers stepping into the wider world of young adults for the first time

- what their naive little head didn't know is that a certain frat leader had their eyes on u the moment u stepped into the gates

- it's no wonder why ur college life had been smooth sailing: people greeting u and doing u favors, certain boys anxiously keeping other boys from approaching u, it's like someone higher up is watching over u

- that said, there's no such thing as free lunch so while ur flying high and living well, someone's gotta bring u back down. and the higher u were, the deeper ur fall,,,

- sudden student debts u were sure u didn't apply for began piling up in ur name, u found out u were blacklisted and banned from important campus stores, even certain professors look at u with disdain

- u have no clue what's going on and as u were at ur wits end, a certain infamous frat leader lends his hand towards ur way

- honestly u were just grateful someone actually gave a fuck in ur situation to think things through and while promising this orange haired sleazy man a date or two for helping u out is a bit weird, u didn't think it was dangerous.

- so off goes ur debts and ur blacklists and the professors that hated u turned up and were transferred into a different dep.

- u were so grateful that u were even looking forward to this date with ur mysterious savior.

- turns out he just wanted to have fun and get to know u in one of his hosted parties :>

- u had a blast, said u were willing to go out with him again and so ur college life continues

- after a few more rowdy parties and him introducing u to his other members with a possessive grip onto ur waist, ur trust in him is at a 100% not even caring to ask.

- childe smiles lovingly,,, bringing u back to his frat house after one of the most drunken wild party u had been to with him. he had planned for this afterall so there was no one in the immediate building and to those who had seen him carry u there,,, well, they turn a blind eye to it

- free to do what he pleases, he takes advantage of ur state and lives out his wildest fantasies: fucked every hole he could fit his dick into, made sure to cum in all of them to claim u as his, definitely fucked u in ever surface of the building that he could and ofc, had every single position and session of ur lovemaking taped, recorded, and saved.

LETS GOOOO MORE FOOD FROM MY FAV NONNIE!! he’s so gross and sleazy and i want him so bad it’s insane… he cannot keep his dick in his pants but he’s so desperate to seem Normal to get to you… i’m creaming ong U^ェ^U also perhaps important to note: i'm canadian so i always say 'university' instead of 'college' because its the word we use here :p i'm pretty sure they mean the same thing?? anyways, barely over 2k words btc!!

contains: fem/afab reader, chubby reader, drinking, smoking, frat boy childe, manipulation, stalker behaviour, dubc0n

new experiences were nerve wracking for anyone, you included. being somewhere you'd never touched and meeting people you'd never seen always had your heart beating faster than usual. perhaps you were a bit of a people pleaser but the idea of someone even slightly disliking you had you worried beyond belief. you always made sure to treat people kindly and do favours whenever you could even if it was an inconvenience. having people consider you 'good' and 'nice' had its perks. so, upon attending your very first university classes you made sure to be extra careful of being nice to everyone you met. and it seemed to work!

people returned your kindness in full and sometimes more. you made friends with nearly everyone and earned the highest grades on projects you thought you'd surely fail on. it seemed bizarre to have so many people at your beck and call and full marks on papers with missing citations but you weren't going to complain. it all would make your life and career far easier. you never found yourself harassed by creeps on campus as well even though they seemed to be lurking around every corner for other girls at the school. it was as though you worked as some sort of repellant for them. if any of your friends found themselves at the receiving end of unwanted advances you'd simply enter the room and the perpetrator would flee seemingly terrified. things only got more odd from there. gifts in your locker or handed off by random people only stating they're from 'an admirer' and professors seeking your approval on assignments and gradings. you felt like you were becoming the god or teacher over all these people and it was beyond overwhelming. with one passing comment to a close friend you had shared wishes of merely living a normal university life of struggling and having fun through sleep deprivation and caffeine. the friend shared sympathies with you and agreed your experience was odd and that was it.

the following days, everything crashed down. people you once regarded as close stopped talking to you, letter asking for debts to the university to be paid or they'd terminate you, and teachers you once thought cared for you and your opinions sneered at your mere presence. it felt as though your silly wish had unfortunately become beyond true. you were struggling and alone. suddenly days spent laughing and having fun were instead filled with tears and desperate attempts at correcting a mistake that was no fault of your own. life had done a complete one-eighty at the worst time possible for you.

it was around ten in the evening that you had stepped out for a walk to hopefully get fresh air and clear your head. you needed to figure out what exactly happened and how but you only ran into blank walls. no amount of crisp autumn air or songs from your favourite artists could fix the suffering you had been cruelly gifted. your fingers played with the edges of the sleeves on your knit sweater; it was your comfort clothing piece. the colour of a chai latte and perhaps a bit worn and certainly too large on you but it was still as soothing and soft as ever. you breathed deeply focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and not just fleeing the whole world to live in the forest for the rest of forever. the thought was more than tempting but you were determined to get to the bottom of this not-so-mysterious mystery. with your mind so focused on not shedding more tears you were oblivious to the tall and lithe ginger body sliding up next to yours until a large hand took one earbud out of your ear and put it in his own. the boldness had startled you and you jolted. the handsome stranger smiled at you.

"Kendrick Lamar, huh? good taste, sweetheart." his voice was milky and sweet like whipped cream. with a boyish charm, crooked smile, and scars painting his exposed shoulders he was rather enchanting. "whats a girl like you doin' out so late? there's some... unsavoury people around at this time. i'd hate to see someone as cute as you get hurt." he seemed to care which was unusual for people around you these days. "most people call me Childe, it's a silly nickname i'm aware, but i'd prefer for you to use my actual name; Ajax," he offered an endearing smile, "what's yours, girlie?" the compliments never seemed to stop flowing from this guys, Ajax's, mouth. starved of attention, you ate up every second of it. he turned out to be rather good company during this episode of self-loathing you were in. you were actually disappointed when you found yourself back in front of your house and in need of some sleep. Ajax took your phone out of your pocket, however, and asked to input his own number. he wanted to spend time with you the way no one else had desired these days.

the first messages you had exchanged were greetings and shared photos of family and pets. Ajax turned out to have a major soft spot for his siblings as well as his pet dog back home, Snjeg; name courtesy of his younger brother, Teucer. following the simple and average conversation, he extended his help with your current predicament. you didn't know exactly what his help entailed but you were willing to try anything. in exchange, he only asked for a thank you... and a date? it was a strange offer from who you learned to be a mega popular frat leader but you were in no position to decline. Ajax seemed more than eager to help.

within another handful of days, the debt demands were rescinded and any money you owed prior was paid in full. you never saw the teachers that came to hate you and people treated you with the highest regards once again. life was back to the way it used to be before and you nearly wondered if the suffering you had felt was all in your head. Ajax would simply reassure you saying there was indeed a large misunderstanding but he took care of it! the problem did exist and he solved it all by himself. you were beyond grateful and found yourself sufficiently fond of him. any day you couldn't see him had you whining about missing him over text and begging him to finally take you on the date you promised him. your clinginess was cute to Ajax. soon enough, he texted you details of when he'd take you out at last. he sent a small dress code and told you he'd stop by to pick you up around eleven at night. you thought the time was oddly late but you were just happy to finally be going out with him.

that evening you found yourself pulling on a cute little white dress with earrings, shoes, and undergarments to match. you thought you looked good this evening and Ajax seemed to agree based on the look he gave you when you opened the door.

"look at you, girlie, all dressed up for me? c'mon give me a little spin." he extended a hand to twirl you around and hummed in satisfaction. "you're too cute for your own good. it's gonna be a real task to make sure all hands, except mine, stay off you tonight," the teasing remark was accented with his usual charming smile. you had chosen to forgo a bag for the evening and simply shoved your phone in such in Ajax's pockets which he had no qualms with. he saw it as the ultimate form of trust; to leave all of your important objects in his hands.

he walked you over to his expensive car and opened the door for you. he's a real gentleman, as it turns out, and also a very good driver. the drive was spent with small talk, loud music, and his right hand squeezing at your plump thigh softly. your smile surely looked dazed but so did his. once parked he opened your door for you once again and took you by the hand into a large party held in what looked to be a very expensive house. the whole place was filled with the smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat but with Ajax holding you to his side you felt safe. he introduced you to each of his friends and fellow frat members tucked close to his side and shared every drink with you. cups and cans were passed between your mouths with giggles and slurred words coming from you. stepping outside, Ajax had pulled out a joint he rolled himself to share with you which was passed back and forth less as he seemed to prefer to shotgun the smoke straight into your mouth. the action was sensual and attractive so you certainly didn't mind. following that, more drinks were shared the same way. he'd take a sip himself before taking another one and funneling it into your mouth through sloppy kisses. there was definitely a sizable amount dripping down your chins and onto your clothes but you were too crossfaded to notice or care. at around two in the morning Ajax half carried you back to his car and to his own frat house.

he stripped you of your clothes that were now stained with drinks you didn't even know the name of. through clenched teeth, he caressed your body covered only in the flimsy white fabric of your bra and panties. with soft touches, he slid off the material from your soft form. his cold fingers ghosted over every curve and crevice of your lucid form. Ajax reviled in the small mewls and whimpers you let out just for him. perhaps it was morally wrong but he knew all of the frat members had done far worse before. soon enough he shed his own clothing as well to softly grind into the soft and wet folds of your sweet pussy. his mouth traveled over all surfaces of your body and licked the sticky residue of countless drinks from your chest as his hands fumbled to open and set up his phone to record the heavenly sight below him.

Ajax found himself slipping his cock into you slowly. even when you were only half conscious you were just so tight around his girthy length. he rutted into you at a pace that had you fading in between awake and asleep between the heated kisses and sloppy thrusts. his dick explored every surface and hole of your body to leave countless loads of himself leaking from you. you just looked far too pretty with thick seed dripping from your dripping cunt and agape mouth. his smile was far off as he angled his phone to capture every movement, every sound, and every ounce of his spend leaking from your beautiful form. you were manhandled from his floor to his bed to his desk and to the bathroom. he had muttered empty promises of cleaning you up in the shower only to continue plunging in and out of your well used holes with water flowing down between your breasts and creating more loud noises as his hips hit your thighs and face. Ajax made sure to feed every hole of yours generously. only once he felt satisfied did he stop.

his large hands gently patted you dry after washing you with his own scent as he whispered soft praise to your barely conscious body. he placed gentle kisses to your cheeks, hands, forehead, and lips as he cleaned you and dressed you in his own shirt. no way was Ajax putting panties on you when he knew he'd need to go at you again in no time.

you'd go on countless more dates with him the future, surely. he knew how to make you feel safe and pleasured. there was no one else that mattered. only you and Ajax. <3

#cw: manipulation #cw: dubcon #cw: stalker #frat au #frat boy childe #childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #tartaglia x reader #female reader #chubby reader

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 1 year

Text

Ten Minute Blood Stain Removal

Requested by: @princess-charming-01 Your support means the world to me so I hope this lives up to your expectations. Keep being awesome, bestie!

Word Count: 11,000

Warnings: Some language, quite a few insults, ableism bashing, Kol being super sweet, and Bekah being the best friend ever

Summary: Rebekah was a good friend to you - the best, really. Klaus, well the two of you were by no means close but he trusted you and that was enough. Elijah always made sure you were paid well, which you appreciated. As for Kol? Well, you'd never met the guy and you didn't want to. You had enough problems in your life without a raging hedonist to upend your convictions. || Kol x reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

Story Begins Below

Working as a housekeeper for the Mikaelson family was an… interesting profession to say the least. Although, when listening to your friends complain about how miserable their jobs were, at the very least you could claim that you never got bored at work. They always asked how that was possible, especially in your chosen profession, but they'd never believe you. Though, of course, that wouldn't matter anyway. It wasn't as if you could tell them why…

Not that you were complaining! Whining about your situation had never been your style, and your situation really wasn't bad.

Really.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't ideal, but this was New Orleans. There were plenty of jobs far, far worse in places infinitely less savory than the French Quarter. Honestly, you should have been more grateful. You hadn't exactly been raised in the best of districts so you were beyond lucky to get a private contract with such a prestigious estate and benefits-wise, you were living the dream. The members of the Mikaelson family were pretty chill (in a manner of speaking) for rich people, all things considered; the wages they paid you were generous, and the hours were reasonable, with a plentiful number of paid vacation days supplied (sometimes spontaneously with little to no warning). The job really only had one downside. But that was just it because, well…

Being employed by 4 original vampires is one hell of a downside.

That one big whopper of a workplace hazard also came with quite a few subsequent inconveniences but you were used to it by now. Fortunately, walking in on a pile of corpses is a thing that gets easier over time. Hell, after your 23rd stack of cadavers, you even stopped throwing up!

Admittedly, now that you looked back on it, the experience that was your discovery of the supernatural could have been a lot worse. You were lucky that only Rebekah was home at the time and that she was feeling a need for feminine companionship. You liked Rebekah. She was more emotionally conscious than Klaus or Elijah and you were grateful she had the patience and kindness to calm your hysterics before gently telling you what the hell was going on. Rebekah also had the decency to apologize when she explained the concept of compulsion to you and why she had to ensure your silence regarding the truth. It was for both your safety and theirs that you kept your mouth shut. You recognized that you didn’t really have a choice in the matter, but you appreciated that she presented it as if you did. After she finished, you felt alright enough to ask her - in all caution, if she would restrict your free will as little as possible. You didn’t want to end up like the other staff members who acted like little more than drones.

She agreed, admitting that it would be nice to have a friend around rather than another robot. Thus, she only compelled you not to reveal your knowledge of the supernatural to anyone outside the compound. Your emotions and mind remained your own and you counted yourself lucky. Had it been one of her brothers instead, you probably would have become another blood bag (Klaus) or a zombie (Elijah).

Though, you weren’t sure what Kol would have done. Rebekah's third brother hadn't been around much since you'd started working so you didn't really know him. You had only ever seen the guy once or twice and only in passing. Kol didn't pay you a lick of attention and you didn't exactly want him to either. Judging from the blonde vampire's description of her most troublesome sibling, he sounded… spontaneous at best and downright volatile at worst. You didn't need any more of that in your life - that was what your best friend was for. Rebekah was enough for you.

How the two of you became friends is a mystery you didn't think you would ever solve. She was just so much more than you would ever be - so much more interesting and beautiful and capable. Why she actively chose to spend her time with you was beyond your understanding. But the two of you had fun together and her vampiric nature didn't bother you as much as it should have. Besides, being friends with an original vampire did have its perks. Bekah was always there to look out for you - protect you - even from her brothers.

"Here comes the weekend!" You cheered, crossing one of the compound's many lounges on a particularly pleasant Louisiana afternoon, practically skipping as you went. Not including this space, you had one more room to clean. ONE MORE and then you were off!

Rebekah, who happened to be lounging on a sofa, immersed in her phone, glanced up, slightly baffled and significantly unimpressed.

"I hate to break this to you, but tomorrow's Thursday, lovely," She said gently.

"I don't care, it's my weekend!" You exclaimed, still cheering the words, fists raised high in the air.

She thought about that for a moment. "Touché. I suppose it is." Rebekah nodded. “Can’t believe it’s already Wednesday though. I swear it was Saturday just five minutes ago.”

“Oh yeah, and yesterday was June,” You teased. It was actually the middle of January but you’d discovered that vampires just had a really hard time keeping track of dates. Of the three vampires you thought you knew somewhat well, none of them could measure time for shit. Elijah was the best but even he had the annoying tendency to reference the fourteen hundreds like they were last week.

Rebekah just grinned and tapped her nose. “See? Now you’re getting it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Speak for yourself, blondie. This week’s been dragging on forever.” (You were proud to say that you were the only human alive who could call that girl “Blondie” and live to tell the tale.)

“Eh. You don’t know the first thing about forever,” She quipped, waving her hand dismissively, distracted once again by something on her phone. You just shook your head and chuckled, pulling out a cloth and some furniture polish as you got to work on the side table next to her. She absentmindedly lifted a potted plant off the wood so you could clean underneath.

Watching her do things like that still weirded you out. Held in a hand-crafted ceramic vase that you were pretty sure was an antique, it wasn’t as if that plant was some small succulent. The thing was a healthy bird of paradise shrub as long as your arm. Altogether, the decoration must have weighed thirty or so pounds (and cost more than your college tuition) yet Rebekah pinched the rim between two fingers and picked it up as if it were a feather. You finished polishing the table and moved on. Behind you, your friend dragged her eyes from her phone again and a frown curled her lips as she pushed herself to sit up. You didn’t have to look at her to know she was regarding you with a critical eye - it was only friendly though.

"You know, Y/N, if I didn't know better, I'd think you hated your job," She declared after a moment.

You tossed her a smirk over your shoulder as you dusted the mantlepiece. "I do hate my job."

"Oh, come off it!" She scoffed. "It's not as if we torture you!"

You turned around slowly, raising a brow. "Bex, your brother is literally painting with the blood of his enemies again.”

"Oh, bloody hell. Not again."

"Yes. Again. I swear, you walk into that studio and it's like somebody handed a toddler some suspicious lookin' finger paint!” You exclaimed, tossing your hands in the air. “And do ya know who has to clean up after him?"

"You?" She guessed timidly, her expression sympathetic.

"Ding! Ding! Ding!" You groaned, rolling your eyes as you put the last ornament back on the mantle. "If that's not the definition of torture then I don't know what is." You crossed the room to a door at the far end of the lounge, the one that led to your final room for the day. As you reached out to turn the handle, Rebekah's voice called you to a halt.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," She warned nonchalantly. You sighed deeply.

"Do I even want to know?"

"I doubt it."

"Figures, who was it?" You demanded. "Which pair of eyes do I need to spray some Windex into?"

The girl furrowed her brow, confused. "Did no one tell you?"

"Did no one tell me what?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest uncomfortably. You didn't like feeling uninformed.

"Kol's come back," She sighed, tone somewhat grim. "That's his handiwork in there. I counted twenty-two, you're welcome."

"Twenty two bodies?"

"Yup."

You pursed your lips into a line. No. Just, no.

"Yeah, not today Satan," You said with a dry grimace. "YO! GERRETTA!" The older maid wouldn't mind. You didn't think she could mind as you were pretty sure she'd already had a stroke and the only thing keeping her going was Klaus' compulsion. Either she’d clean up the ghastly mess in the room beyond or another one of the zombie staff would. If she responded to your yelling, you didn’t hear it. That was no surprise, however. Your hearing aids were good but they weren’t that good.

You glanced at the blonde girl expectantly and Rebekah spoke up. “Yes, she heard you.”

You nodded to her and called to the maid again. “GERRETTA, THE HALL OFF OF THE SECOND UPSTAIRS LOUNGE NEEDS SOME TLC!” You cast your eyes on your friend again.

“She says she’ll send Sofie up to take care of it,” The girl relayed. You thanked her with a thumbs up.

That was another thing you loved about her. Bekah had never thought of you as broken or in need of charity. To her, you were just like anyone else and deserved just as much consideration. She’d even asked you to teach her ASL, though she mostly used it to insult her brothers.

“Which one’s Sophie again?” She asked, squinting as if trying to remember but you doubted she had ever bothered to learn the staff’s names in the first place. You couldn’t exactly blame her - Sophie was another one of the zombies.

“Uh… Red hair? Nose piercing?”

“Oh, yeah…” Your friend mused absently. “I think she’s the one Kol likes…”

Your eyes widened and you swallowed harshly. For some reason, you doubted that it was your fellow maid’s personality that Rebekah’s brother had a fondness for. You liked Sophie, she was your friend… sort of. The family’s compulsion over its staff members was rendered entirely latent when the individuals left the compound - they were themselves again, just without any memory of the supernatural. They were all really great people, actually. Sophie was close to your own age; you had hung out with her a few times around the quarter. She was nice.

You desperately hoped that her blood wouldn’t be the next stain you had to remove from the upholstery.

You shook away the chill that dripped down your spine, jabbing your thumb towards that door and raising a brow as you faced Bekah again. "So, I take it somebody had a bad day?"

"No, actually that's the product of a good day, believe it or not," She mused, lips tight.

You didn’t know Kol - not really - and you weren’t typically one to judge others. However, while the Mikaelsons would usually dispose of the corpses themselves, blood stains were still miserable to remove from furniture. Not to mention the stench caused by internal organs spontaneously becoming external organs was almost harder to purge from a room than skunk spray. So sure, you didn’t know Kol, but he was setting quite the pretense with his behavior, and anything that served to make your job unnecessarily difficult didn’t exactly lend itself to improving your opinion of him.

"Yeah, your family sucks.” You huffed. “No offense."

"None taken."

"Good.

"Good."

"Guess that means I'm done for the day," You announced, trying to remain bright despite the looming sense of dread beginning to build in the back of your mind. Luckily, you were pretty good at ignoring your problems.

“Excellent! Now you can help me!” The girl smirked and patted the spot on the couch beside her. You faked a miserable groan as you moved to sit and she flipped her phone around, allowing you a glimpse at the beautiful deep green dress displayed on the screen. “What do you think about this?” She asked.

The article of clothing looked like it had to cost more than your entire apartment complex and you wondered if you would ever get used to the Mikaelsons and their ungodly wealth - or any aspect of them at all, for that matter. You probably wouldn’t.

“That would look gorgeous on you, Bex.” You hummed, smiling. “But then again, everything does so that’s not saying too much.”

It was very telling that, despite being infinitely older and more powerful than you, she still sought your opinion on clothes and looks. You often thought that Bekah wasn’t really one-thousand years old - rather, she’d just been seventeen one-thousand times. Because, although she snickered about it, waving you off, you could see a slight blush coloring her cheeks. Casual compliments did little to impress her, but honest ones always warmed her heart. So you gave them as often as you could.

“Its a blessing and a curse,” She hummed. “But, no, I was actually thinking for you, love.”

“Oh.” Your brows must have shot to the ceiling. “Well in that case, I wouldn’t be caught dead in it and it’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

“Alright.” Rebekah shrugged, going back to scrolling. “I suppose I’ll simply have to find you something more expensive.”

“Wha- No! I can’t- Why would you- That’s insane! No!” You stammered, reeling with shock.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. This one’s really not that much,” The blonde scoffed.

“I saw the price tag,” You said, crossing your arms. “It’s like thirty thousand dollars.”

Though the girl kept talking as if she hadn’t heard you say that. “The jewels are only costume-”

“Glass may not be diamond but it ain’t plastic either.”

“The fur on the collar is synthetic-”

“Why is that a bad thing? Who are you - Cruella DeVill?”

“I’m looking at the sheer on it-”

“The what?”

“The see through layer covering the actual dress.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, anyway that part looks like organdy to me, so it’s not like its muslin or anything.”

“I may not know what either of those things are, but both of them sound more expensive than brain surgery.” You shot her a meaningful look that was supposed to be stern. As if you could chastise a one-thousand-year-old fashionista. “You can’t make any of this sound cheap.”

“Honeslty, Y/N! It’s not even made of silk!”

“Oh yeah?” You raised a brow, challengingly. “What’s it made of then?”

She licked her lips. “Cashmere.” You narrowed your eyes and pulled out your phone, laying back so she couldn’t see what you were doing. Google was your ally when dealing with Rebekah. “What is it? What are you looking at?” She demanded, craning her neck in an attempt to glimpse the screen. You didn’t respond and just leaned further away. A moment later, you flicked your eyes to meet her’s over the top of your phone.

“You do realize how that’s not better, right?” You criticized, giving her a flat look.

“It is if you have sense,” She mumbled, though not so softly that you couldn't hear. You appreciated that. It always made you insecure when you couldn’t hear what another person was saying about you, especially when that person claimed to be your friend. You’d been burned before by fake nice girls, but Bekah was different. She was the most genuine person you’d ever met.

You snorted, stretching out. “Dude, you’re talking to someone who’s definition of splurging is dinner at Applebee’s followed by a DQ shake.”

“Alright, it’s official: You’re impossible.” She huffed, tossing her phone onto an armchair across the room.

“I’m impossible?” You questioned.

“You’re the only person I know who would rather wear a bloody polyester t-shirt than a cashmere dress!” The blonde girl rubbed her temples, feigning exasperation.

“I fail to see how that’s a problem.”

“And that in itself is the problem.”

“No it’s not!”

Bekah turned to watch you and her expression grew somewhat weary. You regarded her curiously and a few heartbeats passed before she spoke again. “You know, I honestly sometimes wonder how we’re friends,” She said, sounding more than a little morose. “You must think me so shallow.”

“You’re not shallow,” You started. She shot you a doubtful look and you rolled your eyes, tossing an arm around her shoulder. Insecurities are the worst so you hugged her tight. “Seriously, Bex. You’re not. You’re a person, and I don’t think people can be defined by some callused label we slap on them to explain a few behaviors. Sure, you can be blunt, but it’s only honest and I like that about you. Sure, you like dresses and makeup and all those sorts of things, but that doesn’t make you vain. You find beauty in the things around you and in yourself. Gotta be honest, I’m a little jealous of that.”

She smiled softly, shaking her head but she didn’t meet your eyes. “You’re just saying that.”

“You know me, Bex. You know I don’t just say things for the hell of it.” You stooped down to meet her gaze, forcing her to look at you. “I’m not gonna say that you’re reserved or something because you’re not. You’re easily the least frugal person I know, but that doesn’t make you conceited. I mean, you pass hundred dollar bills to every street musician you pass and I think back to just last month; the day before Christmas Eve, you went out and bought dinners for every homeless person on the streets of the French Quarter - just because you could. That doesn’t sound too shallow to me.”

You smiled gently and she returned it.

“Thanks, Y/N/N.”

“You’re welcome,” You said. “It’s still a no on the dress though.”

The blonde girl gave a slight chuckle, faking a pout. “Why not?”

You sent her an incredulous look and leaned back on the couch, closing your eyes. “Be honest with yourself, girl. Where, when, and why the hell would I ever need to wear something like that?”

“My family is holding a winter gala here in about a week or so. You could wear it there.” She suggested.

“Things like that are only fun if you have a date,” You pointed out.

“Those are rather easy to come by, so I’ve heard,” Bekah sang, nudging your shoulder.

You snorted. “For you maybe. You’re gorgeous, rich, fun, and you like people.”

The girl made a rather unladylike noise in rebuff. “Come on, love. You know its time you start putting yourself out there.”

“Do I know that?” You mused.

“Yes.”

“Well that’s a surprise, considering the magic eight ball I asked yesterday said Hell No.”

“Hell No isn’t even an answer on one of those things,” She insisted.

“Then it must have really meant it.”

“Why are you so against trying to find someone?” She wondered, sitting up to watch your expression.

You smirked. “Because relationships are icky, and boys have cooties.”

The girl smacked your knee lightly. “That’s not true, and you know it. You just have to find the right one,” She said.

“I already have,” You pouted childishly.

“Yes, but I’m taken and Sean Connery is dead,” She quipped without missing a beat.

You tapped your heart. “Not in here he’s not.”

Rebekah groaned, tossing her head back in defeat. “You really are impossible.”

“Then give up on me.”

“Any sane person would,” She said. “But unfortunately for you, I believe in love.”

“Ah, so you admit that love is otherwise unlikely to befall me!” You laughed.

“That is not what I-”

“It’s called sophism, honey.”

Rebekah huffed. “That’s it! I’m buying you dinner.”

“Wait, what? A wicked grin split your friend's face and you held up your hands. "No… No! Down Bekah! You're not buying me anything - not this time. Down girl!"

Suffice it to say that her will was stronger than yours that day and that's how you found yourself curled up on the couch of her family's home theater, cuddling a wooly mammoth plush that you had named Lieutenant Nose. After several hours of window shopping, you were more than relieved when she invited you back to her house for a movie night. The two of you had decided on watching the best film of all time. A.K.A The Princess Bride.

"What kind of name is Buttercup anyway?" Rebekah wondered, tossing a couple of pieces of popcorn into her mouth.

"What kind of name is any name?" You countered, shrugging. “What makes a name good or bad?”

"Whether or not it starts with Inigo and ends with Montoya," She replied immediately, holding out her hand for a high five.

"Right on!"

Both of you glanced at each other and grinned.

"Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father. Prepare to die!" The two of you quoted in unison. You reached forward to "stab" your friend, quickly dodging her attempt to do the same. You had to roll off the couch to avoid her but managed to pop up and poke her right between the ribs.

"Ha! I win!"

She rolled her eyes and flopped back onto the couch. You opened your mouth to tease her again but someone cut you off.

"Dearest sister, I can't believe this-" A voice like milk chocolate and silk sounded from the doorway, perfectly complementing the pair of eyes that met yours when you pushed your tangled H/C hair out of your face and turned towards the sound. "-you've slighted me!”

Your entire body froze. Of all Rebekah’s siblings, the least human-friendly one now stood just across the room from you. That distance was nothing to a vampire. He could cross the floor and have his teeth buried in your throat in the blink of an eye.

So, you didn’t blink.

You just stared at him, eyes wide and muscles tense. To your right, Rebekah looked ready to throw herself in front of you.

“Get out, Kol,” She ordered, clearly annoyed. The boy at the door shrugged.

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that,” He said regretfully, though not an ounce of that reluctance showed on his face as he leaned against the door frame. “Not until you pay me due recompense that is.”

Wow… You- you really liked his voice. You had seen the guy before but you’d never talked to him. This was the first time you’d ever heard him speak and that voice was downright enchanting. You felt like you could listen to him talk for hours. The boy’s voice was smooth and warm - comforting. The sound lulled you into a security that logically, you knew you really shouldn’t have felt in his presence.

Kol was also super cute now that you got a good look at him. With dark hair and dark eyes and a smile that had no right to be as innocent as it appeared, his entire presence felt like a trap and you could practically feel yourself stepping into it.

This guy ate twenty-three people in one day, you tried to remind yourself. The notion didn’t much help because your brain just could not connect this boy to that gruesome massacre.

“I don’t owe you anything,” Rebekah said, crossing her arms and glaring.

“That’s where you’re wrong." He grinned. His eyes flicked to you and there was this look in them. Kol looked hungry.

Oh, bloody freaking mother of pearl. You were screwed.

Your friend sighed, rolling her eyes. Clearly, her brother didn’t plan on giving up. “What are you talking about, Kol?”

The predator at the door clasped his hands behind his back, smirking in a rather self-satisfied way. “There has been a betrayal committed,” He announced. “A heavenly vision sits on the floor before me and you’ve neglected to tell me her name. Honestly, I’m offended.” Kol shifted his dark chocolate eyes to your face and smiled in what you were sure he thought was a charming way. “Hello, darling.”

Sure, the expression was cute but you didn’t care for it. That smile only served to make you feel small and insignificant, like the prize won from a five-dollar carnival game - amusing, tiny, and something he intended to leave broken in a day or two.

“This is Y/N. She’s my friend and she’s off limits,” Bekah sneered.

Kol rolled his eyes. “Why must you always think the worst of me, sister?”

“Because you always give me a reason to,” She snapped. “Go find yourself a different toy.”

Kol’s gaze remained fixed solely on you. “I don’t think I will.” Then he sauntered across the room and threw himself onto a sofa a few feet away. He glanced up with a cheeky smile directed at your friend. “Relax, Bex. I have every intention to be nice to this radiant angel. No need to be so overprotective.” His tone, let alone his expression, was anything but sincere.

White-hot anger boiled up inside of you as you watched Kol smirk. He wasn't impressed or fascinated with you. The boy had never spared you so much as a glance before now. To him, you were just a new face - one he couldn't recall killing or spending a night with before. The only appeal you held was that of novelty. This act of his was just that. Sure, it was a good display, but ultimately it only spoke to just how self-obsessed he was. Rebekah's observation had been right. You were nothing more than a toy in his eyes - one he craved to break.

Rebekah’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “There’s no such thing as overprotective when it comes to you,” She hissed lowly.

Grinding your teeth, you spoke up. “Don’t worry, Blondie. I’m sure he’ll lose interest the second he realizes I’m on the housekeeping staff.” You narrowed your eyes at the boy as you climbed back onto the couch and smiled thinly to show him that you were onto his little game.

"I hope so," She muttered, wrapping an arm protectively around your shoulders.

"I wouldn't count on it!" Both of you glared at him and Kol just shrugged. "Although, since you are on the house staff, would you perhaps make some of that popcorn stuff for me?" He bit his lip to hold back a cheeky grin. However, those puppy-dog eyes of his did nothing to encourage your determined hatred of him.

You smiled sweetly. "Absolutely not, sweetheart."

"Aw… Why so mean, love?" He whined dejectedly.

"Because you have your own pair of legs for that,” You snipped, your voice measured and crisp. You would have to be careful around this one. He was tricky. You were pretty sure his puppy eyes weren’t even on full power and you already found yourself struggling to say no to him.

Kol's lips twitched up at the corners and he tilted his head. "Really? That's odd because I could have sworn my family pays you for something…"

"That they do." You nodded. "Except, I'm currently off the clock, so professionally speaking, I'm not here. I.E. get off your ass and get some yourself, please and thank you."

Kol blinked. "Fair enough." Then, he got up and left the room, presumably headed for the kitchen.

Rebekah turned to you, eyes wide. "I think that's the first time I've ever seen someone win an argument with him," She said, clearly impressed.

"Really?" You chuckled, quite pleased with yourself.

"Well he argues like an asshole so winning is usually impossible."

"Huh." You tossed another piece of popcorn into your mouth. "Kudos to me then."

"Just don't let him charm you, alright?" She sighed, leveling you suddenly with a degree of seriousness you rarely saw in her. "I know my brother. He's just looking for entertainment - nothing more."

"You don't have to worry about me, Bex. I'm fully aware that no one would actually want to flirt with me."

"No, that's not what I-"

"Let's just watch the movie, yeah?" You didn’t mean to be terse but the words came out harsher than you’d intended them.

"A-alright." The girl’s shoulders slumped and you could tell she was upset with herself.

You smiled and took her hand to show the girl that you weren't mad. This just wasn't something you wanted to talk about, not when Kol could hear you just a few rooms away. So, the two of you continued your movie without interruption until Kol returned about fifteen minutes later with a bowl of popcorn.

"What took you so long?" You wondered offhandedly.

The boy adopted what one might call a sheepish expression. "I may have burnt it… twice." He flopped onto the sofa again. "So, what’s this movie you girls are watching?"

"The Princess Bride," You answered smiling when you caught him grimacing.

"That's not one of those Chick-Flick shows is it?"

"Yes!" You exclaimed readily. The lie, however, was ruined by Bekah, who answered at the same time.

"Absolutely not, I couldn't get Y/N to watch one of those with me if I paid her," She said. You sighed, pinching your nose and her eyes widened. “Oh, you wanted to-” You nodded. “Oh…”

Kol shifted on the couch to look at you, eyes gleaming like a satisfied cat's. "So is it any good?"

You rolled your eyes. "Uncultured swine," You signed to your friend. You were only now rethinking your decision to insult Kol aloud as you’d done earlier. She laughed and nodded.

"Oi!" Kol's somewhat indignant shout caught your attention and you whipped your head around to look at him. Then, to your great surprise, he signed back. "Say that to my face, why don't you?" What was even more impressive was his hands were quicker and more precise than his sister’s and you’d been teaching her for a while.

Your jaw must have hit the floor and stayed there because it was Rebekah who reacted first. She paused the movie and rounded on him.

"Since when do you know sign language?" She demanded, both stunned and accusing.

Kol shrugged. "Since before Alexander Graham Bell was a prick, I suppose." You couldn’t help but laugh, nearly spilling some of the soda you’d been drinking.

"That must have been before he was born, then," You hummed, unable to resist bashing the famous inventor.

"Precisely." Kol grinned and you felt something in your stomach attempt amateur gymnastics. Okay… so perhaps you'd been a little hasty in your judgment of this boy. Maybe he didn’t mean to sound superior or insincere. Perhaps he was just genuinely playful. Maybe he wasn’t actively trying to goad you into a snare. Perhaps that flirtatious attitude was simply his default setting. Maybe there was more to him than just Rebekah's warnings.

But no. Those thoughts were dangerous, not to mention presumptuous. His sister had just warned you about this exact thing! So, you tried to push those butterflies down, but it would seem that they refused to obey.

Trying very hard not to blush, you faced your friend with a raised brow as you stuffed more popcorn in your mouth. "You know, ya’ never told me he didn't suck."

The ferocity of the blonde girl's glare increased as if she were trying to will a white oak dagger to spontaneously put her brother on a time-out. "No. I didn't."

"It's because she's jealous," Kol said in a stage whisper.

"Oh, I see," You whispered back.

“She goes to school and I’m the one who learns things.” He sighed with faux remorse, shrugging. “I just can’t help it.”

“Makes sense.” You nodded sagely. "Thank goodness she can't hear us when we talk like this."

Your friend crossed her arms, miffed. She waited for you to look at her again. “You should really know by now, that I can, as a matter of fact, hear you. Loud and clear.”

“I think she’s onto us, love,” Kol whispered again. He shot you a wink.

Rebekah rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Bloody hell, what an astute observation!”

You held a hand to your chest and, with an obnoxious scream, you vaulted yourself over the back of the couch. “Quick, Kol! Hide! We’re safe if she can’t see us!”

“Oh, okay.” He too let out a laughably high-pitched scream which was followed by a loud thud and though you couldn’t see what happened, you were willing to bet that was the sound an original vampire makes when it jumps a sofa. "This floor is remarkably clean," He noted a moment later.

"You should lick it."

"Tempting, but I'd rather not."

Your best friend groaned. “You know, you’re not clever. Either of you.” She was really trying to sound annoyed but you knew her. The trembles of repressed laughter showed through her voice. That girl never got mad at you because you always knew precisely how long to keep a gag running.

“Geez, Bekah. You’re so mean!” You called from behind the couch. “I thought we were friends.”

“I thought so too!” She lamented. “I thought it was us against the world - girls versus boys. You agreed with me about him not five minutes ago, but you’ve swapped sides.”

You flushed and you were grateful neither of them could see. She had a point but you just… you couldn’t help liking Kol. Now that you actually spared him your bias, his good humor was just too easy to fall into.

"I know, I know…” You hissed. Then you popped back up from your hiding place and leaned on the back of the couch. “But he speaks the language of allies." You spared a glance toward where Kol had been sitting earlier to find that only his legs were visible now, sticking out from behind the sofa. You rolled your eyes.

"If hating on ableists is all it takes to earn your trust, then I wasted a lot of effort." Rebekah frowned.

You shrugged. "I fail to see how that's a personality flaw."

"Oh, it's not." She gestured to her brother. "You're just making it way too easy on this idiot."

“Well, in Y/N’s defense -” Kol spoke, picking himself up off the floor. “- I am a lot more fun.”

"You wish," The two of you said in tandem. The boy just shrugged, chuckling to himself and Rebekah pressed play on the movie.

Kol ended up staying for all of it, much to your chagrin. When the film ended, you cast a glance at the clock only to realize that it was past eleven.

"Holy crap!" You exclaimed. "I gotta-"

The blonde cut you off. "You're not going home this late, love."

"But I-"

"I rather prefer my best friends un-eaten." She sent you a hard look and even though you agreed with her, you knew there would be no changing that girl's mind.

You shrugged. "Yeah, okay. But I'm not sleeping in your room."

Rebekah tossed her head back, laughing at the memory. "What? Did you not have fun last time?" She teased, nudging your shoulder.

"No. No, I did not."

Kol raised a brow, intrigued. "What happened last time?"

You shuddered, gagging obnoxiously and his sister just laughed harder, nearly slipping off the couch. "Marcel! He-He snuck into my room in the middle of the night an-and then-" You tossed a blanket over her head to stop her from finishing the story but she was laughing too hard to do so anyway.

"We're not reliving that!" You declared as Rebekah struggled to find her way out of the blanket.

"Oh, but your face!"

"Nooooo!" Grabbing a throw pillow off the couch, you tossed it at her head and she finally fell off the seat, shaking with giggles.

"Well now, if you're not staying with Bex, you can always join me." Kol smirked, meeting your eyes. His were darker somehow than they'd been before - obsidian instead of chocolate - and filled with a thinly veiled hunger that told you some part of him was serious.

Your insides twisted but you couldn’t tell if you were flattered or terrified. Those eyes were intense, smoldering. Were you supposed to run or step closer? Settling yourself, you pressed your lips into a line, crossing your arms over your chest uncomfortably. That was it, you decided. He just made you uncomfortable. That was what you felt.

Nothing else.

"I think one of the guest rooms will be just fine, but thanks anyway," You said.

“Are you sure?” The dark-haired boy leaned forward. His hair must have been so soft but why were you thinking about that? “At the very least, I can promise to keep you warm, darling."

The way that pet name rolled so easily off his tongue prompted a rush of color to your cheeks. He made it sound endearing but you couldn't determine if he meant it or not. That was the problem with this flirtatious guide of his - somehow it was both sweet and menacing. Should you be afraid or should you go along?

Rebekah’s laughter ceased and a frigid tension began to build in the atmosphere between the siblings.

“Nah,” You waved a hand, shifting nervously as your cheeks reddened and your bones shuddered. What were you supposed to do with this? “I-I have, uh, restless leg syndrome. I’d kick you.”

That smile that split his lips next was a sharp, ravenous thing. Kol licked his lips. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind a few bruises, sweet thing.”

You swallowed thickly, crushing your folded arms against your stomach as if you might squash the butterflies if you pressed hard enough. Everything - your whole body - felt cold and hot and itchy. You felt the urge to squirm but you didn’t feel a need to leave. You didn’t know what this was. You couldn’t figure out what he was trying to do!

Thankfully, Bekah was there to save the day. Your friend stood off the floor and pulled you up by the arm. "Alright, that's enough socializing for tonight, I think."

"Aww, sister," Kol pouted. "Taking her away from me so soon? We've barely gotten acquainted."

"Then I stand corrected," The girl sniped. "That's more than enough socializing." She turned on her heel and walked quickly towards the door, tugging you along. Were you grateful or reluctant?

For whatever reason, most likely one you couldn't explain, you glanced back as you followed her, meeting Kol's eyes for a moment. He smiled for you. "Goodnight, Angel." He signed. Those movements seemed soft - the words, sweet to your eyes. The boy waved and you turned away as quickly as you felt yourself blushing.

This was not a wise inclination on your part.

When you arrived at the door of one of the guest rooms, the one closest to Rebekah’s, you stopped and turned to your friend, twisting a nervous hand around and around your wrist. She regarded you questioningly, raising a brow. The last thing you wanted to do was offend her, but… you had to make sure. You were just housekeeping - that was it. You were just some dirt-poor kid from the warehouse district, dreaming of the day you’d have enough money to go to college. You didn’t matter. No one would care if you were simply gone tomorrow. Perhaps Rebekah would - perhaps your friend would shed a tear or two - but she’d get over it.

She took your hands, stilling their frantic rubbing, and looked you in the eyes. Rebekah may not always be the most considerate person in the world but she cared so, so deeply. You could read that in her soft blue eyes.

“What is it, Y/N?” She asked quietly.

“Bex…y-your brother,” You started carefully, pausing to gauge her reaction. She didn’t draw back or glare. No, she just held your eyes. You took a deep breath. “He's not gonna… do anything… right?”

The blonde girl smiled softly and shook her head. You were actually taller than her by a solid two or three inches so she had to reach up a bit to hug you, but it was actually more comforting that way because you could just throw your weight on her shoulders, knowing she’d hold you up like the tempest battered rock she was. “He wouldn’t dare,” She promised, whispering in your ear. “Despite his reputation, there are lines Kol will not cross. My brother may be a blunt, impulsive ass, but - underneath that flirtatious mask - there’s an entirely different blunt impulsive ass who happens to be something of a gentleman.” You snickered and pulled away, smiling gratefully.

“Thanks, blondie. I-I guess I just-”

“You don’t have to explain, dear. I get it.” Rebekah let her arms fall and took hold of your hand again, squeezing. “You’re safe here. I promise.” Then she let go.

“That's good to know,” You said, reaching for the door handle.

“Besides,” Your friend added, her tone significantly cheekier. “If Kol so much as laid a finger on my best friend, I’d string him up by his-”

“OKAY, Bex. I got the picture!” You exclaimed, holding your hands out to cut her off. She just grinned and flounced down the hall to her room because the bedrooms in that place were big enough to be hotel suits. “Say hi to Marcel for me when he inevitably drops by.” (Though you would never admit it, you thought those two were cute together. They were so in love it almost made you sick.)

The blonde rolled her eyes, blushing just a tad. “Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Y/N.” She moved to escape your teasing but you stopped her again.

“Wait, actually, don’t. Do not, under any circumstances mention my name while you two are… studying anatomy.”

Your friend blushed fiercely. “Goodnight!” She squeaked forcefully, before rushing into her room and closing the door behind her. You snorted, pleased with yourself, and entered your own room, quickly readying for bed. You drifted off sometime later, thinking about black holes and the relativity of time.

Around three A.M, you woke again. See, you had this habit of doing that. You often found yourself lost in thought while you worked and ended up skipping meals during the day. Thus, after dark - specifically around three in the morning - you would get so hungry that your body woke itself up. Midnight snacks were technically awful for you, but you figured you could worry about that when you were forty or something.

So you got up, dawned just one of your hearing aids because you were lazy and tired, you and slipped on one of Rebekah’s bathrobes, though you didn’t bother tying it, you were too groggy for that. It wasn’t like you slept naked or anything - this was the middle of January; therefore you wore a t-shirt and sleep shorts because this was also Louisiana. Slipping out of your room, you made your way through the maze of halls and servant’s passages that wound through the compound like a human’s circulatory system, determined to make it to the kitchen. It wasn’t as though you could get lost. No, you knew that house like the back of your hand - probably better.

You padded down a staircase barefoot, and though it was unlikely any of the tenets were up, you tried your best to remain as silent as possible. Such a tactic turned out to be mostly useless as, in passing by Klaus’ studio where he was still painting, he noticed you and waved. Did that man even have a sleep schedule? You stilled, wondering whether you should wave back. Knowing him, the hybrid would probably demand to know why it was that you were up and about so late.

He called out to you, just barely loud enough for you to hear but not quite loud enough for you to understand.

“What was that?” You asked in a whisper as you appeared in the doorway.

“Are you sleep walking again, love?” Klaus signed, smirking amusedly. You blushed fiercely - yeah, that had happened once or twice at your frequent sleepovers.

“Nope,” You whispered back. “Just… prematurely ruining my metabolism.”

He huffed a small laugh. “In that case, carry on.” His movements were dramatic and the teasing only made you blush all the more.

“Yep. Thanks.” You rushed away before he could say anything else.

When you arrived at your destination, the room was shrouded in darkness though you didn’t bother flipping on the light. The light from the fridge would suffice. Opening it, you inspected your options. The Mikaelson’s kitchen was kept stock more as a convenience to them rather than out of any real need and Rebekah had firmly insisted that you help yourself to whatever you felt like, whenever you felt like it. Now, you’d never been one to turn down free food, so you readily took advantage of the offer. Their family had too much money anyway.

You decided that anything you couldn’t read the label of was Elijah’s, and you’d been told by the blonde herself that Rebekah writes her name on anything she intends to eat. Klaus, you were pretty sure, just lived entirely on pretzels, chicken tenders, hot sauce, and alcohol - which was mildly disturbing more than anything - and once again, you had no inkling as to Kol’s preferences. Thus, inspecting the contents of the fridge, you found an unmarked box of cheese quesadillas and figured they’d be safe to eat. You pulled them out, humming to yourself.

"Well, this is awkward."

You nearly jumped out of your skin, dropping the box of quesadillas. The words were soft, barely registering in your hearing aid and you had no idea where it had come from. So startled were you by the voice from the darkness that the scream in your chest became lodged in your throat. You stood there frozen, searching frantically through the black veil of the night for the all too lovely boy whose clever tongue commanded that sweet melody. You couldn’t see him. Fear - wild and sharp - rose within your chest, crawling into your heart, and diffusing in your blood as your pulse thrummed faster. You tried to remember what Rebekah had said about you being safe, except you didn’t because your thoughts were entirely paralyzed. In the darkness and the cold, slightly drafty kitchen of that house, you thought you could feel the horrifying sensation of a vampire breathing down your neck. With a burst of movement you hadn’t even thought about, you raced to flip on the lights.

You blinked, shaking with fright as you scanned the room. Confused, you glanced all around, even behind you. Yet, Kol was nowhere to be found.

Were you going mad?

Then you gasped as, seemingly by its own volition, the refrigerator door swung shut. There, atop the counter previously hidden by it, sat Kol. The two of you stared at each other for a moment and you were surprised to realize that there wasn’t an inkling of malicious intent visible in his expression. If anything he just looked amused and a little… embarrassed?

You quickly noticed why.

The had in his lap a tub of ice cream and a carton of Oreos. But he wasn’t eating them separately. Judging off of the indents in the ice cream and the cookie in his hand which had a glob of the desert slathered over it and dripping between his fingers, you figured he must have been using the Oreos to like a spoon with which to eat the ice cream. It was ingenious if not oddly horrifying.

You opened your mouth to demand answers but you weren’t sure what you would ask. A jumble of nonsensical syllables escaped your mouth instead. "Wha- How are you- I mean that’s just… WHAT???"

Kol glanced down at the deserts in his lap and then back up at you.

"I have a problem,” He said flatly.

You blinked and nodded. "A few, yeah."

Another few seconds passed between you, spent with mutual wide eyed stares. Your brain was still fogged with sleep and running far too slowly to comprehend everything you were feeling at the moment. As for Kol, he just shoved the cookie in his mouth and downed it as fast as he could before you got too judgy.

“I am so confused,” You muttered, watching him lick ice cream from his fingers. He looked you dead in the eye the whole time. You swallowed thickly. Why did that make you blush?

“Understandable.” The boy put the lid back on the ice cream container. "How about you and I just… forget you ever saw this?" He suggested.

"I wish I could."

He frowned, lifting an eyebrow. “You’re not entirely innocent here either, darling.”

“What?”

He gestured to the box quesadillas at his feet. You glanced down.

“There’s an explanation for that,” You claimed. The desire to curl up in a hole to hide was strong, but you resisted. Kol gestured for you to continue. "Well, you see I'm a terrible human being and I've resigned to that fact."

The boy’s defensive expression broke into a grin and he laughed, a sweet melody on your ears. “You don’t seem so bad to me,” He said.

“No offense or anything, but I don’t think you’re an accurate judge of personal morality or ethics.” You yawned, rubbing some of the sleep from your eyes.

“You have a point there.” Kol smirked and hopped off the counter, taking a small step closer. His eyes flicked over your figure. “Oh, now you’re just showing off.”

“Excuse me?”

That amused smirk morphed into a cheeky grin and he shrugged, dragging a hand through his hair. “Well, you can’t just walk around with a figure as tempting as yours and expect me not to notice,” Kol mused.

Glancing down, you realized that your pajama shorts didn’t exactly cover as much as you would have liked. Their minimal length gave the dark-haired boy an unobstructed view of your legs and left rather little to the imagination. He may have been a vampire, but he was still a boy. Your cheeks grew hot and you knew he’d be able to see under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen. Although, oddly enough, you found that you weren’t exactly mad at him for noticing… or for looking at you that way at all. Did you want him to? Did you like having his attention?

“Oh, um…” You didn’t know what to say to that. “Thank you, I guess?”

“Thank you for being so beautiful.”

You frowned, forcing a laugh. “I’m like… the definition of average, but okay.”

“What makes you say that?” He wondered. Those eyes - amber now, not obsidian or chocolate, but amber and warm - narrowed with something that looked like concern. The boy drew two steps closer. Should you stay or run? “You’re gorgeous, darling. Don’t tell yourself otherwise.”

The way he said it was different this time. His words didn’t have the same razor sharp edge to them and his eyes held none of that darkness and hunger that had been there before. Now the words just seemed honest. It was almost as if he were someone else - he was still Kol just… softer now that no one else was around. He seemed warm and you felt a sudden urge to curl up against him and go back to sleep.

Blushing, you shook your head and looked at the ground. It wasn’t that you thought he was lying, you just didn’t believe him.

He moved closer to you again, slowly. Almost as if he were testing how close you would allow him. The boy was only half an arm's length away now, close enough to touch. Close enough to taste you if he wanted, but would he?

Kol reached out and rested a hand on your shoulder with a feather touch. You stiffened but you didn’t tell him no. You didn’t run away.

“You know, I was actually hoping I’d have the fortune of finding myself a moment alone with you,” He quietly admitted. His hand slid down your arm, smoothing over your skin.

Your eyes snapped up, widening. You shouldn’t trust this boy. You should run.

“Why?” Your voice shook but at least it was there. You could tell him no if you needed to and Rebekah had said - she had promised that Kol would respect you.

A flash of realization flickered over his expression and he drew his hand back. “I’m sorry, darling. That was inconsiderate, wasn’t it? Sometimes with the way you act its…” He smiled but it wasn’t cheeky or sarcastic. It was a little sad. “Its just hard to remember that you’re terrified.”

“I-I’m not scared of you…” The words were lies and there was no way he wouldn’t see it. Kol raised a brow and took another step closer. You instinctively countered the movement to put some space between you, contradicting yourself instantly. That sad smile made another appearance. You cursed yourself for being so inherently cowardly. You’d worked for these people for eight months and not one of them had made so much as a motion to harm you. They fed off of the other housekeepers, but they’d never touched you. For Klaus or Elijah it probably had something to do with their fear of Rebekah’s wrath but…

With the way Kol was looking at you, maybe he had a different reason.

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” The boy said, shrugging a little. “That’s only natural. Fear is wisdom in the face of danger, so really it just means that you’re smart.” Had he said that a little differently, it would have sounded like a threat but the timbre was that of a compliment.

“Not smart enough, apparently,” You breathed.

Kol tilted his head, frowning. "Not smart enough for what?"

"Well I just can't seem to figure out what you really want from me." You crossed your arms and pressed them tightly against your body. Perhaps you were trying to hold yourself together. Kol's mere presence had you torn between emotions.

He seemed surprised by your answer as though he'd expected you to skirt around such a direct confrontation. He blinked and you thought you imagined just the slightest twinge of pink in his cheeks as rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, mulling over his response.

"I want to know you," He decided. "I want to learn all that you are and I want you to know me. I want to rid you of this fear - purge it from you slowly, pluck it from your bones piece by piece until the day comes when you'll let me hold you."

"You…" Your voice trailed off as you struggled to grip such a concept. "You don't want my blood?"

The boy smiled thinly but you watched a tragic bitterness flicker over her face. "I wish I could lie and say I didn't, but truthfully it was the first thing that drew me to you. " He shook his head, ashamed. Then those amber eyes flicked upward, meeting yours meaningfully. “But I’ve decided not to take it.”

And that wording was important, you knew, because it went against his his usual pattern. Kol was impulsive, he let the moment guide his actions. It was rare for that boy to make an active decision in advance. The statement was a silent request for trust.

“Why?” You asked, brows pulling together. Kol just didn’t seem like the selfless type to you.

He shrugged. “Well, I don’t much like people. Never have - ignorance annoys me - but you’re different. You, my darling, are a puzzle.” The boy grinned. You’d never taken him for a scholar, but there was something excited about that expression - the glimmer in his eyes, perhaps - they displayed a passion for discovery, a craving for knowledge. He leaned closer almost conspiratorially. “I like puzzles. Especially the pretty ones.”

So he really did want to know you. Well, you weren’t ready for that.

“Kol, thank you for the complement, I really appreciate it but I have a feeling I know where this is going and I think I should stop you here.” You sighed and paused for a moment, carefully formulating the proper words to reflect your feelings. The whole while, his eyes remained on your face so you kept your own on the floor and tugged at the hem of your shirt distractedly. “I’m not… good at relationships. You said you don’t like people, and well neither do I. I don’t like them, I don’t like their expectations, their judgments, their hidden agendas - I don’t like any of it. I don’t understand any of it and I don’t have the patience to figure it out. I just… how do I say this?”

“You see too much,” Kol interrupted. You snapped your head up, regarding him questioningly. He continued. “You see everything around you so much differently than others. You see into things - you study them and you understand where others don’t and that bothers you. It annoys you, because why can’t they just look? Why can’t everyone just think?”

That was it. He’d said it. He’d said exactly what you were feeling - what you had always felt - and he said it with honest eyes and just a taste of that constant frustration you’d become so used to.

“They don’t think,” You muttered bitterly. He nodded.

“So, I’m right then?” He said quietly. “It’s not that you don’t understand people - no, it’s quite the opposite, isn’t it? You understand them perfectly - too perfectly. You see through lies and false hoods as though they were merely glass, thus you can’t comprehend why anyone would bother with them. You’re honest and you desperately wish everyone else would be as well, because where is the point in lying? The liars and the cheaters and the unfairness of this world frustrate you, because you were born in the dust and you would steal their thrones in the blink of an eye if only you were provided the opportunity.”

That. That was too close. He shouldn’t know that. No one knew those things about you. His words were far too similar to your own thoughts - the ones you kept to yourself, buried under that customer-service smile you’d learned so early in your youth. Those thoughts weren’t something you shared. Period. With anyone. You were just a housekeeper, a personal maid and that was all any person would ever get to see of you. No one was supposed to see that you had been thinking about astrophysics since you were in the fourth grade or that you had aced every math test you had ever taken.

Because if the world saw that then it would try so much harder to push you down. You had been born in the dust, just as Kol had said, and no one wants to see the gutter reach for the stars. You were the sort of person who could change the world, but those in power didn’t want to see the world change.

“How do you know any of that?” You demanded, eyes narrowing as your tone changed from a snowfall to steel.

“Because I’ve felt it all my life,” The boy replied. “It’s the prodigy mentality, I’m afraid.”

You tilted your head to the side, considering him. “I thought you said you didn’t understand me.”

Kol smirked. “Oh no, that’s the part of you I picked up on immediately. You and I are a lot alike. It’s why you’re so close with Bekah. She’s everything you wish you had without any of the things you hate. She’s my favorite too.”

“Seems like you’ve got everything figured out, then,” You said. Something in you was disappointed though you weren’t sure why.

“Not everything.” His eyes sparkled with bemusement. He loved this. “I’m still trying to figure out how it is that you’re not bitter. You’re awfully cheerful for one so full of resentment.”

Smiling faintly, you cast your gaze down to your feet. “People aren’t very kind… I like to go against the grain.”

Kol leaned back on his heels and nodded. “Genuine kindness derived from spite,” He mused, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before.” The boy chuckled and his eyes flicked over you again, reassessing. “I like it.”

He was like you. Both similar and opposite, the two of you were contrasting sides of the same coin - a mirror of one another. Kol Mikaelson thought you were special.

Your cheeks burned under his attention.

“Uncle Kol?” A voice from the kitchen doorway asked. Both you and Kol turned toward the sound. The adorable red-haired girl standing before you was Klaus’ daughter, Hope. She was eight years old and probably the sweetest soul you’d ever met - which was baffling considering who her father was. The girl glanced between the two of you, rubbing at bleary eyes. “Hi, Miss. Y/N/N.”

“Hey there, strawberry shortcake.” You offered her a smile and a wave which she returned. Kol crossed his arms.

“What are you doing up, little witch?” He prompted in what was probably his best responsible-adult voice, though it wasn’t very convincing. She padded over to him and held out her arms for him to pick her up. Kol obliged, pitching Hope on his hip.

“I was thirsty,” She replied, resting her head on his shoulder. She was clearly still mostly out of it.

Her uncle chuckled softly and kissed her hair. “Do you want some water?” Hope hummed and nodded. “What do you say?”

“Please?” She mumbled.

“Excellent.” He carried her over to the cabinet for a cup. “You know, one of the most powerful spells you’ll ever learn is the magic word, love.”

“He’s right, you know,” You agreed. It’s never a bad thing to support good parenting.

“Mmm… Freya says the most powerful magic is-is, uh… neco-pantsy,” Hope argued, struggling to pronounce the word.

Kol frowned. “Necromancy?”

“Uh, huh.”

He tossed you an alarmed glance and you just shrugged.

“Well I’m going to have to talk to Aunt Freya about what she’s teaching you.”

“Why?” The little girl asked.

“Because you, my sweet, are just a little too young to be talking about black magic.” He tapped her nose, causing her to giggle. “Besides, Necromancy can usually only help you recover something you already had. Now, the magic word, if used appropriately, can get you almost anything you want.” Kol filled the glass of water in the sink and passed it to Hope.

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. For example-” He turned to you and grinned. “-Y/N, I find you captivating above all other women I’ve met in my long, long life. Your intelligence is as impressive as your beauty and l would be ever so grateful to bask in your presence for an evening. Would you please allow me to take you to dinner sometime?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

He shot you a wink and turned back to Hope. “See?”

Hope, however, was one smart little cookie. Her eyes flicked between the two of you and her eyebrows drew together. You could practically see the lightbulb blink on above her head and the change of her expression looked suspiciously like an oven going ding!

“Are you in love with Miss Y/N?” She demanded. Kol blinked and glanced toward you. Your face flushed.

“Well, I don’t know about that quite yet,” He laughed. “Though, I must say I’m not opposed to the idea.”

Hope grinned. “You love her! You love her! You really, really love her!” She sang, giggling. Though your cheeks were surely redder than tomatoes, you couldn’t contain your own laughter.

“Alright, I think that’s quite enough out of you, little witch,” Kol said, feigning annoyance, though he too was smiling. He put the girl down and took her now empty glass from her little hands. “Off to bed now.”

The little red-head smiled mischievously, rocking back and forth on her heels. “I wonder what Auntie Bex is going to say about you having a crush on her best friend?” She mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. This girl was good. Eight years old and already mastering the intricate art of blackmail.

Kol’s brows shot up and he huffed. His eyes flicked to you. “Did you hear that?”

“Oh, yeah.” You smirked. “Kid’s got you cornered.”

“I’m not sure if I’m proud or terrified,” The boy muttered. He braced his arms on his knees and leaned down to her height. “Let’s just you and I be clear, little witch. Your Auntie Bex isn’t going to find out what you just witnessed, because you aren’t going to tell her anything. Savvy?”

Hope met his eyes and smirked. “Hmmmm…” Then she glanced down to inspect her fingernails. You wondered where she’d learned that from. “I think you’re going to have to convince me,” She said.

Kol straightened, taken aback by the absolute power move coming from an eight-year-old. “You’re a little weasel, you know that?”

“I know!” She chirped.

He bit his lip. “What do you want?”

“Whaddya got?”

He scratched the back of his head as if debating which would be worse, the wrath of his sister or the wrath of Hope’s parents. Actually, the more you thought about it, the more you thought Klaus would probably just encourage this sort of behavior. Kol shook a finger at his niece but moved over to where he’d left his half eaten carton of ice-cream.

“You keep your cute little mouth shut and this is yours,” He said. Hope tried to quirk an eyebrow but failed, bursting into giggles when Kol did it successfully.

“Okay!” She cheered. The girl raised her arms again and he lifted her onto the counter.

“You’re lucky you’re my favorite niece,” He grumbled. Grabbing the container of ice cream, he popped it open and removed a proper spoon from the drawer before passing both items to her.

Hope rolled her eyes. “Uncle Kol! I’m your only niece!”

Kol winked and bopped her nose again. “Precisely.” Then he rounded on you, amber eyes sparkling and sweet. “So, what do you say, darling? How does tomorrow night sound?”

You just smiled. Maybe this boy wasn’t so bad. “That sounds great.”

"It's a date." The genuine delight on his face made you blush. He turned back to Hope. “And you’re not invited, you naughty, naughty girl.”

Tagging: @yn-ymn-ylnyln@r13mar@rootbeerfaygo@iiskittles16ii@fandomrulesall-blog@dark-night-sky-99@railingsofsorrow@apolloroid@thatweirdoleigh@misswe03@eat-cake@felinegrate@trikigirl271@cute-freak27@fayeatheart@archangelslollipop@slaypussypop-21@aonungs-tsahik

As always if you want to be added or removed from my tag list, just ask me in the comments or send me a DM. I love you all and I'm so grateful for your support. Stay wild!

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misstycloud · 1 year

Text

Evan Carter

Character profile- OC

::::::::::::::::::::::

Name: Evan Henry Carter

Height: 186 cm

Appearance: Black hair, blue eyes and pale.

Likes: His darling, his son, cats, gardening, the rain, IKEA, soccer, coffe with milk.

Dislikes: People who hate on cats, too much sugar, standing in line, his old school bully, anyone who disrespects him or his darling.

TW: bullying,

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Evan grew up in a smaller town on the country side. The small population crated a community where everyone knew everyone. His family were no exception. Growing up with his parents and older sister, he got to see the rotten side of people. As he grew, Evan noticed that the people in his home town weren’t the nice. Not like they wanted everyone else to believe.

For example- there was Mr. Becker who was known for bringing up his wife in any conversation; No matter what it was. You could talk about a bathroom renovation and suddenly it was somehow about Mrs. Becker. A pair of ‘newlyweds’ folk said. ‘It’s like there’re still on their honeymoon’. The ideal couple the Beckers were. So how come Evan could sometimes see a flash of red hair through the window, right before the curtains would close. Mrs. Becker was a plump older woman with blonde locks, and there was no way she’d have dyed her hair. Besides, if she did; why was she blonde again next morning. Not wanting to be shunned by the community, they play the part of living spouses. Evan wasn’t sure, but he had a gnawing feeling they could tell that others knew.

Then there was his elementary school teacher Ms. Jenn. She was the school saint. The one who always asked how you were doing, praised you for every little thing, played with you. It was no secret that absolutely everybody adored her. Ms. Jenn loved all kids no matter who they were or loked like. So why was she looking at him with so much sustain? No, no, of course she didn’t hate him! She just forgot to ask if he wanted to partake in games. It was no big deal though. He seemed like one to enjoy playing alone, after all.

Even his own family was not spared from sin. His parents were just as bad as the neighbours, with their fake smiles and concealed resentment. The awfully long garden parties created solely so they could examine each other and judge. The fabricated friendships and affection made him want to vomit. He did not want part of that. What’s the point of making an effort to peruse a friendship with someone you don’t even like? Evan saw it as utterly meaningless, and perhaps that is one of the reasons they doesn’t have a good relationship.

Evan could not remember a single moment of his childhood where he felt any hightend emotion. Not when it feel like it’s gonna explode out of your body and it’s impossible to hold it in. In fact he was very good at holding in emotions, since they weren’t even strong to begin with. You know when you do something exciting and you just want to happily scream and jump around like a crazy person? Or maybe, when you see something incredibly sad that you want to ugly sob in your room 3 am.

Yeah, he never felt that. Not during his birthdays. Not when his class got to visit an amusement park. His grandfathers funeral did not make him shed tears either. Honestly, he was a bit glad the old man died, he nagged him about being a normal boy.

But he wasn’t. He wasn’t normal. Not by others standards at least. Although he breathed, ate, slept and had interests; no one seemed to think he was ordinary. At first when he was younger, he tried to argue against those opinions. But after a while he accepted that no matter what he said or did, no one was gonna change their mind.

With the judgement also came other inconveniences. One of them was bullying. It ranged from verbal harassment to ruining his clothes. If it rained the day before; they decided to push him into the mud. If his clothes were slightly nicer; they’d cut holes and rip the seams. Worst was it when they stole them. It happened when his class went swimming in a big lake near the town. When he got up from the water and prepared to get dressed, he saw multiple of his garments had disappeared. He got horribly sick after being forced to return home in simple swimming trunks. Evan thought he would freeze to death before he got home.

Not wanting the torment to continue, his ten year old self made a decision. If he wanted to be treated better, he would have to act like them. So he did just that. He faked excitement, regret, sadness and more. After using his newfound acting skills, did the town treat him better. It was a subtle change. It started with his bullies not threatening him for lunch money. Then they stopped cornering him in the boys bathroom. Eventually they left him alone completely. Evan supposed they perceived they couldn’t bully someone who was normal. That’s what he was; a normal boy. Actually most students left him alone. Only addressing him when absolutely having too, like under pair assignments.

The adults first chose to ignore the acts of the wretched kids, because of his strange behaviour. Why would they defend some weirdo kid who didn’t fit in on their description of a suitable child? But when Evan suddenly transformed into an ordinary boy, then it was a whole different story.

Things really turned around when he came back to middle school, after summer break. It was then that students started speaking to him without mockery. They even tried to befriend him! Saying things like; how smart he his and complementing his appearance. It seemed like the had all forgotten about the past. But Evan hadn’t forgotten a thing. He played along however. Made ‘friends’ and socialised everyday. He even joined a club; the soccer club to be exact. In it was his closest companions. They were the ones he hung out with most of the time. The ones who he formed close ‘bonds’ with. They ate together, laughed together and fought as well. But it never lasted long.

Despite appearing to feel so many things, Evan felt non of it. It’s not that he didn’t have any emotions at all, they were only not as strong. He felt very limited compassion when his geography teacher died, while everyone cried at the funeral most he could think of was that he hoped the new one would be better. Evan felt bad for the family, no doubt, but he wasn’t able to say the death moved him.

It went on like that until the day when he graduated. By then he’d already made plans to move to the city. His parents tried to convince him to stay, but yielded when he promised to send them money he earns with his good job. It was a small sun to pay in order to get the hell out of there. Finally he could live alone, without having to forcibly interact with people. He could make good money and just live life. But Evan understood it would take time before he could have a real good job, and he was willing to work for it.

In the big city, the young man worked his way through the years. Getting different jobs, and eventually better ones. With that also came bigger demands. His mother and father began asking for more money. If they could leech of their son in their now old age, why wouldn’t they? From his older sister they didn’t ask much. While on a phone call with them he found out she’d married a guy from her university. They’d met through mutual friends apparently. He didn’t inquire why he found out about it after the wedding.

When he met the love of his life, everything turned around. No longer did love seem pointless, no longer did he have to fake happiness, no longer was he alone. The party he met his darling was hosted by mutual friends. At first, he showed reluctance to attend, but after being practically threatened to come he put on his suit and went.

The best decision he ever made.

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#yandere #yandere oc #my oc #Evan Carter #male yandere #yandere x reader #fem reader #backstory #character #character profile #small town #bullying #cheating #bad family #abuse #mistreatment #toxic #bad relationships #fake

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 7 months

Text

Red Strings [Chapter Eight] To Kyoto [Satoru Gojo]

Tag list: @nevermoresworld @pumpkindudeishere @illyrian-moonswarrior

Warning(s): family drama, mention of death, teasing, Gojo being Gojo, soulmate au, female reader insert, training.

I'm sorry, Satoru. This is much harder than I thought it would be.

You ignore the comments the best you can, listening to Naoya mouth off about you to one of his younger brothers as you walk past them; an inconvenient nitwit whose name you can not remember. The former barely knows him either, but given the chance to mock you to someone, he will fake tolerance for anyone. It's the sort of brat he is.

With an uneasy breath, you round the corner of the main house and hurry down the engawa toward your father's workroom.

It just keeps getting better and better around here.

Not only did the clan not show concern for your well-being, but some of them even chose to disregard the entire incident. Out of sight, out of mind. This is what the Arima Clan meant to them now that their leader had been locked up. One of them had escaped, Satoru had mentioned, but Naobito did not care to listen.

That was yesterday, after you had returned, and today, your father wants something of you.

At his door, you hesitantly knock. He invites you in moments later, and as you walk in, you notice two bowls of steamed rice, miso soup, and a plate of salt-grilled fish sitting on his desk.

"Sit," he orders, motioning to the area in front of him. "Have some breakfast."

You consider turning him down, you have plans for the morning, but given the circumstances of your plans, you decide it would be best to eat something first.

"Were these extras?" You ask in curiosity, sitting down.

Your father grunts in response. If not, he could have at least called for you a drink. You sigh and begin to eat. As nice as this is, it is a bit strange. You feel only resentment toward your father at the moment, but you are curious as to what is going through his mind at this moment.

Years ago, you would have looked forward to this moment.

With a confident air, you swallow the bit in your mouth, then smile.

"I can't stay too long, but I appreciate this."

Your father raises a curious brow but says nothing. He lifts a chunk of fish to his mouth and takes a bite, watching you. It's honestly unnerving and the longer you sit, the more awkward it feels. The silence is deafening.

Sitting down your chopsticks, you sigh.

"I am meeting with Satoru soon. I know that you did not ask me to join you because you wanted the company, so I must insist that you tell me what it is you want."

Your father narrows his eyes in irritation.

"Do not think, child, that because your soulmate is gifted with cursed energy you can disrespect me or the Zen'in. Satoru Gojo is a pest."

"And unlike you or the Zen'in, he has not turned his back on me," you snap, opting not to remind him that he allowed you to be abducted. "But that is just how it is, isn't it? The Zen'in are incapable of morals or love. It's power and nothing more."

Warm tears blur your eyes, but you blink them away. It hurts to admit this about your family, but it's true. Your father used to know love; he left the clan for your mother but upon the awakening of your Innate Technique, he had thrown her away for power. It scares you because you fear the hold it has on you too. Are you capable of turning so wicked?

Ignoring the tightness in your throat and the jitteriness of your body, you stand from the table.

"Please…do not waste your voice if you brought me here to talk about Satoru. I don't want to hear it."

You do not want to deal with him anymore, so you turn to leave, but his voice interrupts you.

"Be grateful, brat, that Naobito-san is turning a blind eye to whatever it is that you are doing with that pest. His generosity will not last forever."

You tighten your jaw and toss him a heated look over your shoulder. Is he so cruel? You are not a puppet, you should be allowed to live your life as you want.

"You can share my thanks when you grovel at his feet later," you remark sharply.

Where did this come from? A weight feels like it's been lifted from your shoulders; you feel like a human again. A wide grin pulls at the corner of your lips and before your father can scold you further, you leave the room, hurrying to the front gate.

The cool breeze pulls at your hair and clothes as you venture further away from the compound. It's like the air is cleaner and more breathable. At the closest bus stop, you sit on the bench, resting for a moment. The short bout of defiance you displayed had your heart pounding.

I can't wait to tell Satoru.

Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you do not notice someone walking up on you until they are behind you. The heat of their breath on your ear makes you shiver, and as your name leaves their mouth in a sing-song manner, you leap up in fright, turning to face Gojo. He laughs in response.

"That wasn't funny," you argue.

"You should see it from my side," he retorts with a grin.

Tossing him a heated glare, you finally notice that he isn't dressed in his uniform. He's wearing torn jeans and a black t-shirt with the front tucked in. On his back, you notice a guitar case, but you opt not to ask why he has it.

"I don't think I have ever seen you without your uniform on," you point out.

Gojo hums and slides his sunglasses down his nose.

"I know, you like it."

Heat spreads across your face. You do like it, but damn. Does he have to call you out on it?

"I mean…you do look handsome."

Gojo lifts his hands to his face.

"You're gonna make me blush."

You snort in response. He's so full of himself. Remembering the morning you have had, you narrow your eyes.

"Handsome or not, this whole play nice crap you want me to do is a lot harder than you might expect. The Zen'in Clan is so hard to tolerate. I don't know how much more I can take."

"But you are doing so well," Gojo argues. He walks around the bench and joins your side. "Look on the bright side…you get to spend the morning with me."

He is right about that. You sigh and retake your seat on the bench.

"Training right?"

Gojo agrees with a hum.

"We're going to Kyoto for that."

Kyoto? You don't understand. Why does it matter where you train? So long as non-sorcerers see then it should be fine to train in Tokyo. There is no reason to travel to another district.

"Why are we going to Kyoto?"

Gojo grins and presses a finger to his lips.

"It's a secret. Wait and see."

You have a bad feeling about this.

For the next 2 hours, almost 3, you and Gojo ride from Tokyo to Kyoto via the metro. When you at last arrive, he takes you to a gorgeous park near the river with an open field to the right; nestled between them is a narrow walkway with a park bench sitting by its side.

And on the bench rests a woman with blue-tinted silver hair pulled in a high ponytail. Her sharp dark brown eyes turn to you, glancing you over as you approach. Who is she?

"Mei-san! It's good to–"

Before Gojo can finish, the woman lifts a finger and opens her phone. A grin pulls at her painted lips and she closes the phone.

"I was checking," she states. "It came through as you said."

"I told you I was good for it," Gojo whines.

You raise a brow, not sure what they are talking about. The woman stands and faces the two of you.

"Are you not going to introduce us, Gojo?"

The said man grins.

"Is that needed? You already know who she is Mei Mei."

She does? You widen your eyes, glancing between them.

Mei Mei laughs.

"When you hired me to train her, I looked up her information. She is a Zen'in but has no combat training. I am going to have my work cut out for me with this one…but as long as you pay my fee, you have nothing to worry about."

This is just great. Your bad feeling doesn't seem so ridiculous now.

"I'll be over here if you need me," Mei Mei states, pointing a finger toward the open field. "Take your time."

As she saunters away, you glance at Gojo in concern.

"I thought you were going to train me."

"I can't help you much on this part," Gojo mentions. "I was given a mission by the school and I won't be around for a few days."

You hum, earning a laugh from Gojo.

"Don't look so sad. I'll take you out for lunch when I get back if Mei-san doesn't drain my bank account before then."

"I'll hold you to that," you agree with a grin.

Taking an uneasy breath, you glance toward Mei Mei, who is leaning down unlocking a large case.

"What exactly am I doing in terms of training?"

"There are two simple tasks that I want you to work on while I'm gone," Gojo explains as raises two fingers. "The first is to learn how to use that cursed tool that I gave to you. It's going to be your main source of offense and defense. Mei-san can help you there. The last has two conditions. I want you to work on creating more manifestations as well as reinforcing them."

You frown, not sure it's possible.

But that's not true, is it?

Your cousin Jinichi can conjure giant fists with cursed energy. Each construct of his is unbelievably strong as if they are a part of his body.

You had learned recently that your Innate Technique was not as useless as you had thought. The dead are not the only ones it works on.

"I think I can do it," you utter. "My 'Yokai' technique is a reinforced construct with the ability to share a person's final memories with me. It eats both the living and the dead, so long as there is cursed energy present. If I work on my output and imbue more into them I should be able to make them stronger."

"That's my girl," Gojo praises.

Heat spreads across your face, but you avert your eyes to avoid looking directly at him. He certainly has a way of making you feel like a hot mess.

With a sigh, you nod.

"I'm ready to start."

Gojo motions toward Mei Mei and hesitantly you walk into the field, standing across from her. She grins and raises two fingers in front of her.

"Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."

Before your eyes, a gob of darkness appears in the sky and ebbs down around the three of you. Glancing over at Gojo, he grins and removes the guitar case from his back.

"It's just a curtain. No worries unless you are a cursed spirit."

He sits the case down on the grass and unzips it, removing the cursed tool he took from Yuudai. You assume he expects you to tote it around like this when you are in front of non-sorcerers. It is a clever ruse.

Taking 'Squall' from him, you extend the blade, holding the shaft tight in your hands. Gojo clears his throat and points to something over your shoulder. You turn and notice Mei Mei is holding a giant battle ax. A feeling of dread consumes you.

"Do you expect me to be able to keep up?"

"I expect you to block," Mei Mei answers.

She spins the handle and then rushes at you, swinging the blade at your head. Is she out of her mind? You do the only thing you can and jump to the ground.

"Block or die," Mei Mei orders.

She raises the ax above her head and brings it down toward you, however, you roll to the side and dodge it. The aftershock tosses your hair and showers you in soil, but you manage to get back onto your feet before she strikes at you again.

Gojo is no help. He stands to the side, cheering you on despite the fact Mei Mei is trying to kill you. Shooting him a glare, you turn your eyes to the woman to see her swing the blade at your side. Out of fear, you bring the scythe up vertically beside your body to block. It works, however, the strength she puts into her swing knocks you off your feet and onto the ground.

For a moment, the air leaves your body and once you can breathe again, you cough in protest.

Mei Mei stands above you and grins.

"That was a good reaction. Keep it up."

You groan. This woman is going to kill you.

For an hour, you do your best to block Mei Mei's swings. A few you can, however, you always end up on your ass afterward. It's obvious she is strong; you can barely keep up with her.

When at last she calls for a break, you are happy to accept. You remain on your back, looking up at the masked sky since the curtain is still up. A shadow covers you and you turn your eyes to Gojo who is hovering over you with a smile.

"Baby steps…but you're showing some progress," he states.

You glare at him.

"Why can't you train me?"

"If you think I'm bad, there is no way you would survive Limitless," Mei Mei mentions.

You raise a curious brow.

"What is Limitless?"

"It's one of my inherited techniques," Gojo explains. "It brings the concept of infinity into reality."

You have never heard of an ability like this before. It sounds godlike.

"It's quite interesting," Mei Mei mentions.

You watch in horror as she swings at Gojo with her ax, but before it hits, the blade stops inches from him.

"There is no way that's possible," you utter in disbelief.

You have seen sorcerers who are fast enough to dodge strikes and those strong enough to block them, but never someone who could not be hit.

Gojo grins and raises his arms out.

"Come on. I know you want to."

Heat spreads to your face, but you get up onto your feet, approaching him. Raising your hand hesitantly, you make contact with something in front of him.

"That's an aspect of Limitless," Gojo declares. "The ability to bend space around a designated area at will. I'm not stopping your hand, just slowing it down."

You hum.

"Can you activate it or deactivate it whenever you want?"

The space around him gives and he walks forward, wrapping his arms around you.

I guess this answers my question. He has been deactivating it when he touches me.

Heat spreads across your face. Why would he do this for you? Allow you to get close to him. He's untouchable, to a point. It makes sense to you now what he meant when he fought Yuudai Arima. His scythe, 'Squall' can disable the flow of cursed energy, but without his Innate Technique, he could not land a hit on Gojo.

It's impressive. No wonder the Zen'in don't like him.

"You are–"

Before you finish, a burning pain shoots up your arm, originating from your hand. You cry out and step away from Gojo, glancing at the soulmate mark. The pain quickly fades, however.

What?

"That's never happened to me before," Gojo mentions.

You widen your eyes, watching him shake his hand, the same one with the mark on it. Did he too feel the same burning sensation as you had?

"That's peculiar," Mei Mei utters with a hum.

No kidding. You glance down at the mark on your hand to see that it doesn't look any different. Whatever caused the pain, is gone now.

"Can we call it a day?"

Gojo nods. For once, he doesn't remark, lost in his thoughts.

#satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen fandom #soulmate au #gojo x reader #femal reader insert #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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xocasper · 2 years

Text

Sunset and Vine

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader Summary: Kinktober Day Four - Hate Sex Warnings: NSFW content Tags: hate sex, degradation, begging, oral sex Word Count: 3756 A/N: My pre-August writing makes me puke, honestly. It's a crime. Unfortunately, it's one of my only Frank fics. I'll definitely write another one after I finish the Ray fic I'm working on. Anyway, the title is a reference to Taylor Swift, not geography. Enjoy!

Having Gerard as a roommate was great in many aspects. He wasn’t loud or overly messy, and he didn’t take long showers–if any–keeping the bills low. It was nice to have someone to talk about your problems with, especially someone as empathetic as him. Living with him was so close to perfect that it seemed like any issue could be overlooked. Unless that issue was his best friend, who was practically a third roommate at this point.

Frank was probably at your apartment more than you were, hanging out with Gerard as often as he could. This would be fine if he wasn’t the most insufferable person you’d ever met, priding himself on his ability to infuriate you. Whether it was waking you up at night by talking too loud, or having the energy of a Jack Russell terrier at eight in the morning, having Frank around always sparked conflict.

Aside from his rowdy behavior, he was also a total asshole. The second he realized you disliked him, he made it his life’s mission to push you over the edge. His tactics varied from playground insults to minor “accidents”, which included shoving past you in the hallway, eating food that you swore you marked, and other intentional inconveniences.

You weren’t much better, often retaliating just as bad. It was mostly bickering and occasional roughhousing, but nothing worth leaving over. Gerard usually got in the middle of things, making futile attempts to settle arguments before someone got hurt. In addition to this, he was always trying to convince the two of you that the other was tolerable, nice even. Until it showed though, you took his convictions with a grain of salt.

Today you had less patience than usual, getting little sleep the night before. It was a Saturday so you had more than enough time to nap, but you couldn’t seem to relax. You could live with that, but things got worse when you went to the kitchen, realizing quickly that you had forgotten to go grocery shopping. Despite the rough morning, you tried to keep an open mind.

Shopping wasn’t awful, but the lines were. After waiting in line for ten minutes, the lane closed, leaving you to wait another ten minutes in another line. Somehow, your day hadn’t been troublesome enough. The universe had granted you fifteen minutes of traffic on the way home, because heaven forbid you try and stop for coffee.

Coffee that you spilled as you got out of the car, effectively staining your pants, warranting a frustrated outburst, or at least a few tears. As if this wasn’t enough, you walked all the way up to your floor, arms full, with no key. Not only had you locked your car keys in your car, but also the key to the apartment, resulting in ten minutes of knocking and calling Gerard.

Thankfully, he came to your rescue, greeting you at the door with an exhausted expression, one that quickly turned to worry as he saw the distress on your face. He didn’t say anything at first, taking the bags and placing them on the kitchen counter before returning to you with open arms. It was nice, cathartic, to be held, and you were more than grateful for his compassion. However, you still wanted to take your anger out on something, feeling a strong urge to go punch a hole in your wall like an angsty teenage boy.

Gerard wasn’t going to let you do that though, unpacking the groceries and telling you to change into clean pants. When you came back in a fresh pair of sweats, he already had the coffee maker brewing, proudly presenting you with a cup as you took a seat at the counter.

“I take it your morning went well?” he joked, blowing away the steam while you held your head in your hands.

“Gerard, I’m running on three hours of sleep and eight ounces of coffee, and my keys are locked in my car. So yes, my morning was fucking wonderful.”

He breathed a small laugh, shaking his head as he took a sip of coffee. “It’s only eleven, so you’ve still got time to do something fun. Besides, it’s Saturday, which means no work. At the very least you can take a nap.”

His suggestions were sweet, but you’d already failed to go back to sleep, which took that off the list. “Actually, one of my friends is dragging me to some bar tonight,” you groaned, remembering the promise you’d made to her after she spent two weeks begging you to go.

He gave you his condolences before downing the rest of his cup and returning to his bedroom, leaving you to dwell on the rest of your day. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to lighten up, the afternoon dragging on slower than usual. At least you had your keys now–thankfully Gerard kept a spare–so that took some weight off your shoulders.

You had gotten a couple of texts from your friend, ensuring that you were still going and practically begging you to put some effort into your appearance. More to prove yourself than anything, you reluctantly hauled yourself out of bed to get dressed up, hoping something short and scandalous would be the cure to your problems.

A few hours had gone by since something detrimental had happened, leaving you to believe that the storm had passed and that you could enjoy your night. You tried to stay positive as you picked up your friend, fortunately arriving at her place with less traffic than earlier. She was standing outside already, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of you, who had tried harder than usual to look nice.

Things really seemed to be looking up, as you arrived at the bar with no accidents or road rage, and you were actually starting to look forward to the night. Plus, dressing up proved to be some help, as you were chatting it up with some guy at the bar who couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you.

Maybe this was good–you had a pretty poor day, so a hookup wasn’t an awful idea. He was cute and seemed interested in you, but right as you were going to take things further, your friend stumbled over, slurring something about how she had puked on someone’s shoes.

Lo and behold, there was another girl, drunk off her ass, wailing about her ruined heels. Of course, when things began to seem okay, there had to be some sort of sabotage, bringing you right back to square one. You muttered a quick apology to the guy, who waved you off and moved on to someone else, rubbing salt in the wound.

Thankfully, you hadn’t had much to drink, leaving you much more sober than your friend and a much safer driver. You tried your best to keep her calm while she cried about ruining your night, and how there was this “totally sexy guy” that she was in love with–despite forgetting his name–and how she would never see him again. As much as you loved her, it was exhausting, and you were more than happy to walk her inside and get her a glass of water before heading home.

All you wanted was to go to sleep, but the second you walked inside, you knew that wasn’t happening. Instead of a quiet apartment, you were met with the unpleasant sight of Frank, sprawled out on your couch.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re here?” you asked, exasperated.

He rolled his eyes, “Are you always such a whiny bitch?”

Gerard looked back and forth between the two of you, concerned and slightly frustrated as he tried to diffuse the situation. “Hey, I didn’t expect you to be home until later, and I can tell that something happened, but Frank isn’t here to bother you.”

“Look, I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon than come home to this,” you assured him, motioning to the mess that was Frank, shirt rucked up and a beer in hand, looking disheveled and a little buzzed.

“Says the one dressed like a back alley whore,” he scoffed; his words would be hurtful if you hadn’t heard them a million times.

“Don’t you moan on stage for people?” you snapped impatiently.

Frank sneered, “You’re just pissed that it’s not for you.”

He was insufferable, absolutely awful in every way, shape, and form. After the day you’d had, you barely had it in you to not take a Louisville Slugger to his knees. The grin he wore as he fueled the flame made it worse, ignorant and mocking as he waited for your insufficient response.

“You’re vile,” you spat, slipping your shoes off and having half a mind not to chuck them at him.

“But I’m right.”

Finally, Gerard piped up. “Alright let’s not do this right now. You go chill out for a bit,” he instructed, pointing at you. “And you, stop instigating them.”

“Fine,” you huffed, sauntering off to the bathroom to shower off the lingering grime from the bar.

As previously mentioned, a perk of living with Gerard was the nearly endless supply of hot water. His hygiene—or lack thereof—meant you could take long, hot showers without any complaints. This was especially helpful after days like these, the warm water cascading down your body, taking your problems with it as it whirlpooled down the drain.

You weren’t sure how long you had spent in there, but it must’ve been a while as the wretched sound of Frank’s shouting had died out. Hopefully, he had left, and realized that he also had somewhere to live. At this point, you should’ve made him start paying rent, he spent enough time here anyway.

Unfortunately, he was still hanging around, making his presence abundantly clear after you finished blow-drying your hair, banging on the door far harder than necessary.

“Could you be any louder?” he griped as you opened the door, eyes lingering on your bare skin, body barely covered by your towel.

“My eyes are up here,” you snapped, annoyed solely because it was him.

“I know where they are,” he said, eyes narrowed mockingly.

”Is Gerard still here?” you asked as you pushed past him, heading off to your room with him trailing after you, sticking around in the doorway.

He knew you were attractive, but it was nearly embarrassing how difficult it was to focus on anything else, watching closely as you shuffled over to your dresser. “No, he went to get food, what’s it matter to you?”

“You actually shut up for once, I figured he must’ve left,” you turned to face him, quickly realizing he was still in the doorway. “Fucking Christ, Iero, have some dignity.”

He grinned as you shut the door on him, heading back to the living room while you changed away from prying eyes. When you finished, you had little choice but to sit next to him, now hungry upon the mention of food. Staying in your room wasn’t the best option when there was a 5’6 toddler in your living room, so you settled on the opposite end of the couch.

“You’re really wearing that?” he asked in distaste, receiving an eye roll.

“They’re fucking pajamas, yes, I’m wearing them.”

“Okay,” he said passive-aggressively, raising his hands in defense. “Better than whatever you wore earlier.”

Impatient didn’t even cover how you felt at this point. “How in the world are you friends with Gerard?”

“How are you his roommate?” he fired back.

“Because I’m not an insufferable douchebag.”

“And I’m not a priss, so it seems like he can put up with anyone.”

This didn’t help, leaving both of you equally pissed off. “Look, I’ve had a pretty awful day, and now I come home to this,” you motioned at him. “In my living room. Go back to the fucking dog pound, Frank.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that the world doesn’t revolve around you? As far as I’m concerned, you pay half the rent. So no, I’ll be staying,” he said, breath stalling as he realized just how close the two of you were.

You hated how attractive he was, from the way he spoke to his appearance, boyish and effortless. It was clearer up close, which only upset you more. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

He huffed a short laugh, breath fanning across your skin from the close proximity. “Is that what you really want? Or are you actually dying to be fucked? I know you think about it,” he said cynically. “Quit being a bitch all the time and maybe you’ll get what you want.”

“Shut up,” you told him, burning up as he carefully placed his hand on your jaw.

“C’mon, you can do better than that,” he mocked you, thumb brushing across your parted lips, and lightly pressing it against your tongue. “You’re so much sexier with your mouth shut.”

Maybe it was lack of oxygen, or the weight of your day, or maybe even the two shots back at the bar, but you could barely think as his thumb left your mouth, swiftly replaced by his lips. You had no issue kissing back though, coming to your senses just enough to gain some control. His hands flew to your waist to pull you closer, yours tangled in his hair.

Frank was an outlet, and you could project all your frustration and anger onto him–he deserved it. When you pulled away, his arrogant grin returned, and you gave him a sharp glare before kissing him again.

His kisses were rough and carnal, wasting no time parting your lips once more and gliding his tongue against yours, smooth and assured. You were on fire, and as much as you hated giving in, he was irresistible.

“We are not doing this on my couch,” you told him, panting softly.

“Why? Don’t want Gerard to see you getting fucked like a whore?”

It turned you on more than you’d like to admit, ignoring him and pulling him towards your room. The second the door shut, he was back on you, hands meeting the bare skin of your waist as he held you, fingers digging into your sides with more aggression than you deemed necessary. He slid your shirt off and pushed you back onto the bed, leaving you surprised that he was even more attractive when he was on top of you. Frank, however, hadn’t stopped thinking about this since you came out of the bathroom, his gaze fixed on your half-naked form.

You grew impatient in the few seconds he spent idle, snapping at him. “Can you hurry up? Or will I have to get myself off without you?”

With a scoff, he pulled off his own shirt, chest showcasing a handful of tattoos, arousal coursing through you at the sight of them. “Can you be patient for two fucking seconds?” he glowered at you.

“Maybe if you weren’t so slow, I wouldn’t need to be,” you bit back, quickly cut off by his lips on yours, his fingers tracing the waistband of your pants before shucking them off.

Everything was quick from there, Frank’s palms warm against your thighs as he pushed you up against your pillows. He nipped at your skin, sucking and biting at your chest, leaving light blemishes as he went, smoothing over each one with quick flicks of his tongue.

“For as much as you run your mouth, I thought you’d know how to use it,” you said, earning a gentle bite in response, Frank perking up as you let out an involuntary moan at the sudden sharpness.

He let out a dry laugh, “You’re in for a real surprise, then.”

Frank proved himself right as he settled between your thighs, making quick work of your panties before resting your legs over his shoulders, and placing his hands under the swell of your ass. His ego grew at the sight of you, splayed out and desperate to be touched, dripping with arousal mere inches from him. He could hear the way your breath caught in your throat, anxiously waiting for relief. Your subtle shifts didn’t go unnoticed either, Frank relishing in your attempts to get closer to him. Finally, he leaned in, tongue running flat as he tasted you, feeling his jeans grow tighter as you arched into his touch.

It was almost embarrassing how eager you were for him, but anyone would be with the way his tongue moved, lapping with a motive. He was a bit shocked to be enjoying himself around you, but he was between your legs, after all, listening to every vulnerable noise you made. It was enough to make him pull you closer, sucking lightly on your clit as you attempted to grind against him.

“You know,” you started, cutting yourself off with a moan as he worked his tongue at a merciless rate, undoubtedly to shut you up. “You’d be so much more tolerable if you did this instead of talking.”

He almost pulled away, ready to shoot back a comment about how you would also be more tolerable if you were sucking his dick, but he selfishly believed his mouth had better use between your thighs.

“Frank,” you whined, rocking down against him as he pulled away for a moment, lubricating the pads of his fingers with your arousal.

The sound of his name on your tongue surprised him at first, but his shock quickly turned to desire. It was easily the hottest thing he’d ever heard, making it a goal to earn every noise he could. Every moan increased tenfold as he slipped his fingers inside of you, moving slowly before picking up an even pace. His tongue was a fierce contradiction, gently licking at your clit while his fingers curled quicker, the contrast sending an orgasm rippling through you.

With quick strokes of his tongue, he cleaned you up, pulling every last sound from you. Hastily, he climbed up the bed, itching to get out of his tight jeans. For once, you had nothing to say, too focused on catching your breath.

“Open,” he instructed, biting back a moan as your tongue lolled out.

He pressed his slick fingers to it once more, but this time you closed your lips around them, sucking and flicking your tongue against the pads, causing him to let out a choked curse.

“You’d be so perfect if you weren’t a bitch all the time,” he told you, pulling away as you unzipped his pants.

To your surprise, he stopped you, receiving a look of subtle concern. “What do you want?” he asked, a wicked grin on his face. You paused, looking at him confused.

“C’mon, I want to hear it,” he insisted, waiting for you to speak.

“I’m not gonna beg for it,” you told him, rolling your eyes. He shrugged and started to slide away from you, and you found yourself giving in quicker than you would’ve liked.

“Fine!” you said, and he looked back, waiting smugly for your pleas. “I want you to fuck me.”

It definitely sounded forced, and he could tell that your voice was laced with annoyance. He hummed, “I don’t know, that seemed kinda rude. Try again.”

You looked at him exasperated, trying again with slightly less irritation. “Please, Frank.”

He still wasn’t convinced, shaking his head, grin still plastered on his face. “Man, you’re really bad at this.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you lashed out, kissing your remaining dignity goodbye as you put on a sweet voice for him. “Frank, please fuck me, please. I need it.”

Proudly, he tugged his jeans off. “See what happens when you’re nice?”

You ignored him, too focused on the generous bulge in his boxers, prying down the waistband with nimble fingers. A wave of sheer want crashed over you, head spinning as he hovered over you on full display, Frank quickly noticing how your eyes stayed fixed on him.

“See something you like?” he asked, breath catching as you reached a hand up, gently stroking him.

“Fuck you,” you muttered bitterly, and he was back to scowling at you.

Frank lined himself up before you could react, taking things slow just until he was buried inside of you. “Has no one ever thought to fuck the bitch out of you?” he asked, eyes narrowed in mild distaste.

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but he quickly snapped his hips against yours, any rebuttal you had prepared turning to a loud moan. He built up a rhythm, rough and unforgiving, hooking your legs around his waist to thrust harder, deeper, as you cried out beneath him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, desperate for anything to ground you. He moaned as your nails sunk into his back, the sweet burn encouraging him to pound harder.

With another call of his name, you came undone, legs shaking around him as he thrust a few more times before pulling out. Frank let out a short string of curses as you wrapped your hand around him, pumping him until he came on your stomach.

He laid next to you for a minute, the two of you panting softly from the exertion. It was peaceful, although a bit odd, to have him next to you, without arguing or hard feelings. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought.

“I’m surprised Gerard isn’t back yet,” he said out of the blue, sitting up.

Oh fuck. You had forgotten that he was due home soon.

“Shit, you should probably go then,” you said, eyes barely open at this point. “Could you get a towel?”

He snickered, “Clean it yourself.”

“You’re disgusting,” you said, slapping his thigh. With a melodramatic sigh, he left, returning a few moments and tossing a towel at you.

“Thank you, now get dressed before Gerard sees you stark naked in the hallway.”

He grinned, “So we’re cool now?”

“As if,” you mumbled tiredly, though in your haze you still shot him a smile, listening to him fumble with his jeans as you cleaned yourself off.

Too caught up in your sleepy state, you nearly missed the sound of his soft footfalls and the creak of your bedroom door as it shut, and Gerard’s voice through the walls as he returned a few minutes later. You’d have more than enough time to regret this tomorrow, but at the moment, it seemed like a pretty good end to a pretty bad day.

kinktober taglist: @clichedlovers @halloweenbitch2764 @lubbockshusband @cigarettesandalcohol @couldbegayer1234 @doc-martens-enthusiast @yachiiko @becausethedrugsneverwork @michelethesong @dangerouslittlefairy @chronicallythicc

#frank iero x reader #frank iero smut #mcr x reader #mcr smut

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backtothefanfiction · 6 months

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The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Epilogue: Not Another Envelope

Summary: We say goodbye to our favourite couple in a similar manner we said hello to them, with an envelope on the dining room table, a secret hidden inside.

Warnings: 18+ Only, genre typical content, references to the demise of characters in previous chapter, fluff, a surprise, implied smut, daddy/mommy kink (if that doesn't give away the surprise I don't know what will)

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: The final authors note *begins weeping*. This is it, the end. I have had the most wonderful time writing this series and sharing it with you all. A big thanks to @sincericida and @tarzinnia for your continued support and reblogging and leaving your thoughts all over this series, they honestly kept me going and helped so much. Another big thanks to @liz-allyn if it wasn't for your Sugar + Vice series inspiring me, Angel would never have happened. I hope this Epilogue ties up this series in a nice bow for everyone and we can all go away with a fuzzy feeling in our tummies with hope for the future. I will be having a Q & A session to wrap up any final questions and talk further about all our favourite bits in the series, so be sure to fill up my inbox with your Q's and best bits. And before anyone asks as we haven't come back to him in a bit, Miles is doing good. His leg healed and Angel moved him to work more on F.E.A.S.T operations full time. He is very happy and healthy. Anyway, let's say goodbye shall we.

EPILOGUE

She hadn’t felt this nervous since she had first walked back into this house 10 months ago. Her stomach turned as she tried to breathe deeply and keep calm. ‘I can do this,’ she thought to herself, as she crouched down to check the food in the oven for the 5th time in the last 10 minutes.

“Come on Pete, where are you?” she muttered as she tapped her foot absentmindedly on the harlequin tiled kitchen floor.

After everything had happened there had been quite a few changes. They had left Hobie in charge of cleaning up as they went on a well needed second honeymoon. Peter had hired a yacht for them to sail around the coast of Italy for two weeks; of course stopping off in the little town she had lived in for the near three years they were separated, so that Angel could introduce her husband to Maria and her magic meatballs.

When they came back Peter signed the entire business over to Angel. There was a small amount of teething room, Peter playing mediator between allies as he announced the change in management; but given her family history, most of them were satisfied with the change.

With Angel now in charge of the business, Peter started going back out in the suit. He’d occasionally help out with paperwork or running certain errands, especially when it came to the Huntsman and F.E.A.S.T, but mostly spent his days patrolling the city and helping keep it crime free (well apart from his wife’s business that was).

They had sold her Father’s old house and everything inside it for a hefty amount, which they donated to the city to help with the clean up after the explosion down in Chinatown. They also gave payouts to the local businesses that had been affected as both a thank you for helping during the blast; but also apologise for the inconvenience of it all. The new centre had been reopened two months ago, with a special ribbon cutting from the city’s one and only Spider-Man, and had been thriving again ever since.

Peter had been worried about donning the suit again. Worried what everyone would think after all this time. But if the gang fighting had provided one thing, it was the city’s need for a hero. A need to hope once more. And nothing said hope apparently like a guy in red and blue spandex swinging through the city- much to George Stacy’s dismay.

They had started going to couples counselling once a week so they could talk through all their lingering issues. The Felicia thing. Their issues with her Dad. The forced three year separation. There was still a long way to go, but talking about it with a mediator helped.

Harry’s body was found in a freezer inside a storage container that was offloaded in Belfast Ireland three months after the night at the warehouse. Toomes’ body, which had been dumped in the river, was never found.

She checked the oven again as she chewed on her lip. She wasn’t even sure she was gonna be able to stomach this, despite having spent the last hour and a half cooking it. There came a thud from upstairs. He was home. She closed her eyes, taking one last deep breath in, before she began to take the chicken out of the oven.

“Mmmm, smells good Mrs Parker.” his voice rang out as he ran downstairs.

“You better not have just left your suit dumped on the floor up there.” she chastised as she began plating up the food.

“Of course not.” he said with a sheepish grin as he came and wrapped his arms around her from behind, placing a kiss on her cheek. She knew him too well.

“Can you put the cutlery on the table?” she asked as she turned her head to give him a kiss on the lips, her stomach doing butterflies, she thought she might vomit.

“Yeah of course, no problem.” he said, patting her hip before he moved to slide open the cutlery drawer, humming to himself as he went.

She braced herself against the edge of the counter as she heard him make his way over to the table. There was the sound of metal hitting the wooden table as he began to place the cutlery down, still humming away, until he wasn’t. There was a pause before he spoke.

“Baby, what’s this?” he said, lifting an envelope off of the table. Peter grew nervous, the moment feeling all too familiar.

“Sit down.” she said, as she finally turned to face him, the food now sitting forgotten on the counter.

Peter didn’t move. “Baby, what is this?” he pressed her. He saw the frozen look of terror on her face and his stomach lurched as he raced to open it, fearing the worst. He pulled out the paperwork inside, scanning over it confused. “Angel, what is-”

“I’m pregnant.”

Peter stared at her. The longer the statement hung in the air, the more confident she grew as she slowly stepped across the room towards him. “You’re?” Peter couldn’t even say the word. He tried but it didn’t feel real on his tongue. She just nodded as she reached a hand out to his hip, the other pointing at a particular box on the page that said ‘positive’.

“I’ve known for a few weeks now.” she tried to explain. “I didn’t want to say anything until I’d had it confirmed by the doctor. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“That really bad food poisoning you had. I thought it was from the Thai food we had, but I ate the same thing and I was fine and-” he rambled as he tried to put all the signs together he knew he should have gotten.

“Pete?” She said his name tentatively.

“And then last Sunday when you fell asleep on May’s sofa in the middle of the afternoon. I thought you were just tired from work-”

“Peter.”

“Oh and when we went out for breakfast the other week, you had mushrooms on your breakfast. You hate mushrooms-”

“Peter!”

“What?”

“Does this mean you’re okay with it?” she asked sceptically.

“Okay with it? Okay with it. Why wouldn’t I be okay with it!” He beamed as he suddenly wrapped her in his arms. “We’re having a baby!” He said excitedly. “I’m gonna be a Daddy- oh!” he said as a realisation hit him. “This means I get to start calling you Mommy.”

“No. Nope!” she squealed and giggled as he held her tightly, turning his head to gently gnaw at her skin like he was trying to eat her.

“Fine, fine.” he said as she finally broke free of his arms. “But I know you’ve been itching to call me Daddy for years.”

“Noooo.” she giggled, but she knew he had her pegged.

“Yeeesss.” he dragged out the word with an exaggerated smile.

“I’m not gonna say it.” she giggled as he began to chase her round the lower section of the house.

“Oh yes, you are.” he joked, stalking her as she moved around the kitchen island.

“Pete, the dinner.” she tried to reason.

“I don’t care. Not until you say it.”

“Noo!” she squealed as she made a run for it, narrowly slipping past him and running into the living room.

“Oh you’re gonna say it.”

“No.”

“Say it!” he called out as he lunged for her, wrapping his arms around her and wrestling her gently to the floor, pinning her with his body. She laughed. “Say it.” he said again as he looked down at her.

“Fine.” she huffed in defeat. “Can we go eat dinner now Daddy?” she cooed in her most sultry voice.

He moved his head from side to side as if he were thinking about it, before saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Mommy, my dinner’s right here.” He gave her a devilish smile before shimmying his body down so his face was the same height as her crotch.

“Noo! Peter!” she squealed in delight, pretending to push him away as his fingers reached for the waistband of her trousers, her giggles ringing out throughout the house.

-----------------------------------------

Thank you so much for reading The Angel In The Garden of Evil. If you have enjoyed the story don’t forget to tip me like you would your waiter by reblogging and leaving feedback and letting me know what you think! By reblogging you also help to keep this story alive for just a little bit longer allowing new people to keep finding it for days, months, weeks and years to come. Whenever this story find you, I hope it brings you joy.

@scmdsblog @angiexsv @thef1nalgirl @did-someone-change-my-name @sincericida @tarzinnia @liz-allyn @blacksoul09 @humxncrxvings @sunnycolors @suicide-sweetheart636 @ahryi @ms-wild-card-56

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innytoes · 2 months

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Chaotic Prompts II: Electric Boogaloo

It fucken wimdy

What do you mean, the raccoon stole the ring you planned to propose with?

I am straight up not having a good time right now

Come here you little gremlin

I am being so normal about this

Should I even ask or should I just assume the answer to your current predicament is 'I'm stupid'?

Excuse me, I'm not done saying hi to your dog yet

When I said 'be gay do crime' I did not mean this

Stop flirting with yourself in the mirror

It's a trash can, not a trash can't

Okay but serious question: What's your favourite dinosaur?

Get down from there

Oh, you're being gay. Good job, carry on

My tummy hurts but I'm being so brave about it

Yeet!

I got you Oreos as a peace offering

I came out to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now

I am a pretty, pretty princess, thank you for noticing

Oh no you activated their Mom Friend Mode

So basically your roommate is a cat?

Okay so I can explain

Why is your arm stuck in the vending machine?

Let's go, lesbians!

I can't believe our first date ended up in the emergency room

Hi Hungry, I'm dad

You bought him a cake that said 'nice ass, bro'

How am I supposed to Kiss Kiss, Fall In Love in these conditions?

You know, because of colour theory

If I were an alien I'd abduct you first

You could if you weren't a fucking coward

No thoughts, head empty

Please don't ever refer to yourself as that again

I feel like you're not taking this powerpoint presentation about why you should date me very seriously.

I'm just a silly little guy

The last thing you ate is what we have to name him... um, okay maybe not that.

I am a grown-ass adult and if I want to spend my hard-earned money on this I will!

Weird flex but okay

Fire solves all problems

What would your rather find living in your attic? 1000 roaches or one person?

I'm too pretty to be dealing with this

The house is burning, and you can save the cake, or me, what do you choose? / That's not fair, the cake doesn't have legs.

Have you no shame?

You are the yee to my haw

In my defence the five year old started it

So hear me out... we kidnap him...

I'm sorry I can't keep making out if your cat keeps staring at us like that

Kissing the homies goodnight

I'd beat up Satan for you

Eff this, I should be at the club

Eff this, I should be at Build-a-Bear

How are you going to gaslight gatekeep girlboss your way out of this?

You may not believe in mothman, but mothman believes in you

I am so totally chill right now

At the next inconvenience I will start biting people

They smell like sparkles and sunshine and I want to kiss their stupid face so bad

I'm sorry you broke your arm how?

We take stuffed animals very seriously in this house

Yeah that sounds like a you problem

Do you need a hug? You just seem very upset over the shape of these potatoes

Mistakes were made

I'm not like other girls. I'm worse.

They cut your grilled cheese into triangles, that means they're in love with you, bro

Is this a mid-life crisis because if it is I'm a bit worried about your lifespan.

Just because you can buy a box of five hundred tiny plastic meerkats does not mean you should.

Aww, it's baby's first war crime.

I don't think pancakes are going to fix this. I think I need ice cream too.

(For more chaotic prompts, part one is here.)

#fanfic prompts #feel free to use these if you want #writing prompts #julie and the phantoms #ask me #because of who I am as a person I probably won't get to all of them #so feel free to send more than one

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blazeofnight · 10 months

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PotO Italy (Trieste) review - Act 1

Disclaimer: I apologize in advance if I sound a bit defensive, but honestly, the amount of badmouthing the show is getting based on a few unofficial pictures and videos is astonishing and it gets old quickly (but I admit some of the memes are gold and I am enjoying them).

I have not seen other replica productions in full, only pictures, but I have seen the West End production in March. I do consider using Broadway/West End/replica productions as the one and true standard to judge non-replicas unfair in general, but I think it's fair to use them as a comparison to try and understand how these changes affect character dynamics and stuff like that, and to help in trying to understand the reasoning behind the choices made.

My visual memory is VERY poor, so if you've seen the show too and notice I remember something wrong please tell me so I can correct it!

This is almost 5000 words long, so please make sure you want to read it before clicking in the read more. Also please forgive any typos.

The one for Act 2 is here.

THE LOCATION

Il Rossetti was built in 1878 and is typical of the time, with a large stalls area on a gentle slope surrounded by open boxes, and two rows of balconies. During modern renovations they "opened" the boxes at the back to extend the stalls area, and these last rows are raised and angled to give you a better view of the stage. I have to say it is a good compromise to make an older structure more suited to modern audiences.

The interior is painted a rich lapislazuli blue with cream and gold trim, and the domed ceiling has some nice painted clouds. They have installed small lights that resemble constellations, the effect is very nice and they had the good idea of using it during Masquerade to great effect!

The foyer is also very nice, and there is a bar with good spritz at an affordable price.

We were seated in the second row of the raised stalls area, on the right side, and the view was great. Of course some details and expressions were lost, but unless you are aiming for a close and personal experience, it's a good view. There are some columns as you can see in the picture, bu they are thin and don't really obstruct the view in a significant way.

The audio control station was at the back of stalls, too, on the centre right (next to where I was seated), this meant there was a bit of light coming from them but it was low enough to not be a distraction.

I personally found the music to be a bit too high at times compared to the singers' voices, but it's something I think every time I see a live musical and when listening to the audios I take the voices are perfectly clear, so it's likely it's just me having some audio processing issue. The orchestra is 16 instruments, so reduced from the original but it still sounds nice.

There were subtitles! Two screens at the side of the stage with Italian subtitles, and also an app you can download on your phone for subtitles in English, Italian and German. I saw some folks using the app nearby and it looked like it was well synchronized, also since it was white subtitles on a black background the light was not really an inconvenience.

I saw the afternoon show on June 8th.

OVERTURE

The auction scene is pretty similar to the standard, the only difference is the attendants are seated with their backs to the public. Old Raoul is seated in the row closest to the audience, and he turns towards the monkey for his lines so we can see him in profile. The auctioneer activates a big lever switch on the wall to light up the chandelier, which raises over the centre of the stage instead of the audience.

Let's address this immediately: yes, the chandelier is smaller. It still looks nice, and if you're someone who never saw the show seeing it rise and move around is still a very good effect to open the musical with! The flashes of the chandelier's lights turning on and off at the beginning of the overture were timed to the music, which is a nice touch.

A cool idea that I think could use being improved was having the crash accident be replayed in reverse and slow motion during the chandelier rise! The idea is cool, and by using strong white back lighting it looks almost in black and white, reinforcing the idea of a flashback. BUT. This was done, I suspect, because during the chandelier crash you don't really see Christine and the other actors standing below it, which means that if you don't already know what happens it risks being confusing.

I think it could be easily be solved by having the auctioneer add a couple of lines when talking about the accident to make clearer that's what we are looking at and helping people who have never seen the show before connect the dots. It is a cool scene though! This is where the rotating stage-in-the-stage is used for the first time, and you get to see Buquet laughing maniacally while holding the fake lasso, dangling from a metal stair on the "back" of the stage.

HANNIBAL

We transition into the Hannibal rehearsals! I liked the ensemble costumes, they did remind me of actual early '900 opera costumes and the teal+gold combo is nice. Also, a couple of the soldier extras were ensemble actors wearing their regular suits with capes, fake armour and helmets on top of it, I loved it because sometimes rehearsals are just like that!

Image credit, via cdaae

Anna Corvino is a delightful Carlotta, her fake Italian accent is a delight and I loved how she incorporated some stilted acting that is very typical of early '900 Italian opera. It's a small detail but a very nice bonus for opera aficionados. You could really feel her exasperation when the background drop accident happened, overall she felt arrogant but not as entitled as other actresses I've seen in the role.

Piangi (Gian Luca Pasolini) arrives on a litter and stomps on a ballet girl (who understandably yelped loudly) when dismounting, I liked this detail to show he's a bit clumsy. The litter is also used instead of the elephant at the end, with Pinagi getting on it and the bottom giving out comically. Piangi was also suitably snarky towards Reyer in the Rome/Roma bit, and he did say "Amateurs!" while leaving with Carlotta.

Monsieur Lefèvre was dressed in a snazzy cream suit and he was quite funny, his anxiousness in leaving the theatre behind was palpable from the beginning and the little pause before changing topic when André and Firmin ask him why he's leaving was perfectly timed.

Ear Carpenter is clearly having the time of his life as André, and Ian Mowat is a suitably snarky Firmin with a likeable practical, no-nonsense attitude.

A special note for Rober Ediogu, the male dancer in this production: the scene was a bit cramped, but his grace and elegance are absolutely undeniable and he really gave the vibes of a consummate professional who has Seen Things while working at the Opera.

When Meg (Zoe Nochi) suggests Christine (Amelia Milo) for the main role, she physically pushes Christine to centre stage rather forcefully! Megstine fans will be happy to know this Meg is definitely the proud founder of the "Christine is awesome" fan club.

I agree that the Elissa costume could use a bit more oomph, but it was not bad at all. I think adding some vertical decoration to the skirt in a dark gold tone or big fake jewels would elevate it without making it feel too busy, but under stage lights it looks sufficiently nice and the teal fabric has a lovely shine to it that doesn't feel cheap.

An interesting change is that Reyer does not appear! You hear him speaking from a small orchestra pit on stage, and the actors are similarly looking at it, but he's not seen so you have this extremely annoyed voice coming from the depths of the stage.

THINK OF ME

If you were wondering if Amelia Milo can sing: yes she does, and quite well! In this song it's noticeable that her upper register could use being a bit stronger, but she's still quite young and I trust her voice will mature beautifully, Right now it has a very light, airy quality to it, very angelic. She can and does put more force behind it when needed later in the musical, but I think it suits this song beautifully. You really get why she gets to be a replacement on the spot!

The rotating stage is used again, this time with better lighting, and we get our boy Raoul (Bradley Jaden) being adorable and fangirling over Christine. For those interested in the brava/bravi discussion, Bradley says "Brava".

I don't have much more to say about this scene, I admit it isn't one of my favourites so I tend to get a bit distracted and just listen to the song.

Image credit, via cdaae

ANGEL OF MUSIC

Christine's room is extremely essential: one of the short sides of the rotating stage has been decorated with wallpaper and the mirror, hanging above Christine's vanity and chair. It is very simple but it works and the vanity has a nice lived-in feel to it. Christine has a nice white nightgown that looks similar to the original one, probably in plainer fabric but I wasn't close enough to notice. It's white, it has flounces, it's pretty, so close enough for me!

This is a very Megstine moment, they stand very close and touch a lot and Meg sounds genuinely worried but also happy for her friend. The vocals were very nice and I think Amelia really nails the hypnotized/transfixed aspect of Christine towards the Angel/Phantom, she had some great expression in this song.

Image credit, via cdaae

There is no Madame Giry (Alice Mistroni) rebuking the dancers for being sloppy before this scene, so when she comes to pick up Meg it feels more as if she's purposefully making it so Christine is alone. Meg leaves quite upset, stomping her feet and yelling "Rehearsals, rehearsals, ALWAYS REHEARSALS!" which I found quite funny.

LITTLE LOTTE

No managers bit, Raoul just arrives while Christine is reading. It took me a while to warm up to Bradley's Raoul but I ended up liking him a lot! He's going for a more adult portrayal, still enthusiastic and loving but a bit more level-headed. In this scene he's clearly leaning more into the enthusiastic side and it's a very nice and sweet interaction.

It is very clear that the memories he has with Christine are very dear to him. In this production it's Raoul who says "Those picnics in the attic" and he had a super tender, fond expression that was just the best. Just a very sweet scene overall, I really enjoyed it.

THE MIRROR

Oh boy, I loved this part! Christine had a suitable mix of awe and fear, the Phantom sounded extremely angry, almost growling "My triumph", and then becoming soothing and welcoming after seeing Christine's scared reaction.

Do you remember how the mirror is ABOVE Christine's vanity? It means that when the Phantom appears, he is literally towering over her (especially since Christine is kneeling on the floor), it makes for a very imposing entrance! The mirror is a bit opaque so when it comes up and suddenly you see the bright red of the cloak's lining it is a very nice effect. Christine has to climb on the chair and table to reach the Phantom, and then they disappear in the darkness, almost engulfed by it. It was all very pretty to watch and made for a great first impression of the Phantom.

Image credit, via cdaae

THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

Ok, onto the bad part. Unfortunately, they didn't find a way to give something to do to the characters in this scene. The scene is quite dark, they cross the stage, then get out of a door and cross it again, disappear for a bit and reappear on a box on the upper level of the fake stage and sing there for a while, then a catwalk is lowered and they walk on it, then a very short boat ride. No candles, they used a holographic fake flame effect for the boat ride that resembled will-o'-the-wisp fires burning just on the "surface", and while I liked the idea it could be implemented better.

They definitely have to find a way to make this feel more like a descent into a dungeon, cave, whatever, and better effects to transmit the otherworldliness that Christine perceives. As it is now, it just doesn't work.

ETA: I forgot to mention, a lot of folks remarked how this song sounds played faster than usual. I suspect it might be because as I said they don't really know how to keep the actors busy, so shaving off 20 seconds or so is good for them. This is just a guess, though.

THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT

This has a lot of issues, too. The set is pretty sparse: the boat on the left, the pipe organ at the centre, and the Phantom's bed on the right, plus a nice background suggesting the passages and mazes that lead to the lair. I think a more gothic-looking bed and a couple more props could complete it nicely, but not too bad.

Unfortunately, once again they have to find stuff to do for the actors. The piece starts with the Phantom sitting at the organ and Christine standing a bit far away, looking at him. This isn't bad per se, it gives you the impression that Christine is trying to get a feel for the situation and what's going on and it makes sense, but... it goes on for too long. It becomes boring, the worst crime for a musical.

FINALLY he gets up and Christine starts getting nearer, they kinda circle each other and then the Phantom blows a candle in Christine's face after "Only then can you belong to me" and suddenly we're back to a more traditional choreography with the classical embrace pose. I really don't like it because it's pretty clear from watching that the candle blowing makes Christine suddenly change her attitude and behaviour and... it makes me think of a roofie, sorry. She's suddenly less scared, more agreeable, and at the end she loses consciousness. Nope nope NOPE.

On the good side, when Christine faints we get the catch and carry! All that crossfit Ramin is doing paid out! The Phantom gently lays Christine on the bed and covers her with her cloak, despite the unfortunate implications of what happens just before it is a sweet moment.

In general, Ramin played the Phantom as very gentle in this scene, you get the feeling of a genuine care and not wanting to scare Christine (magid drug candle apart). It reminded me a bit of the book, where the Phantom kidnaps Christine with the idea of having her spend a month or so with her, and then when she's got to know him reveal her his face because by then she knows him as a person and he hopes she'll stay by her own will.

Despite the issues, this scene got a BIG applause because Ramin did display an awesome vocal control, since his voice is on the warmer side I think it's a song that suits him a lot.

I REMEMBER/STRANGER THAN YOU DREAMT IT

In this version, the Phantom is aware of Christine being there and he lets her touch him, which makes the unmasking feel even more as a betrayal of sorts.

There is no Mandarin robe and no crawl, but the scene is suitably pathetic nonetheless. The Phantom is angry at the beginning, but it quickly turns more into a kind of sad resignation. I was really hit by the delivery of "now you cannot ever be free", it didn't sound like a threat but more like a sad realization that Christine has sealed her fate and thing will not go the way the Phantom hoped for. Immediately after that, the pleading in "fear can turn to love" is honestly heartbreaking. You get the feeling that he's trying to reach Christine, to make her understand, through the pain he's feeling.

At one point Christine falls on the floor, petrified, and scuttles away when the Phantom tries to get nearer, she does keep her distance a bit longer than I expected but then when the Phantom crumples on the floor she gets closer and tries to return the mask. the Phantom turns towards her, reaching out, but at the last moment turns away saying "No", and then gets the mask back while looking away from Christine.

The "come, we must return" bit is softer than I expected, too. He's clearly upset but tries not to show it and does not manhandle Christine, guiding her offstage gently.

Very pathetic, lots of self-loathing, 8.5/10 but only because there's no crawl, otherwise it'd be a solid 9 despite the staging.

MAGICAL LASSO

Man, this Buquet (Matt Bond) is unhinged! He clearly loves scaring the dancers, he has a WONDERFUL manic laugh. Madame Giry is her usual scary, ominous self. I did not mention it yet, but one of the high points of this production is the lightning. They use it quite effectively, especially to set the mood, and in this scene it was fantastically gothic and doomy. It's a short scene but it worked well to remind us that we are in a story with gothic elements, people will die, etc.

NOTES I/PRIMA DONNA

The rotating stage is slightly ajar, so you can see Meg finding a noose in box 5 (which in this production is at ground level) and playing with it during the scene before joining the others for her part. This means that a part of the stage is occupied by the fake stage, so unfortunately there's less space for the actors to move around.

This is just a minor quibble, everyone is very good in this scene with the usual amount of funny moments, over-the-top reactions, Raoul not understanding a thing, etc., Piangi was very supportive of Carlotta, Anna Corvino hits some very nice notes, the usual.

Carlotta's dress was way less snazzy than the original productions, but it did look nice (a dark-ish green with very dark velvet trimming) and fit well, also the train did take up a lot of space which fits the character and her large ego.

I loved that when André says "your public needs you" there is a longer beat than usual with Firmin saying nothing, then Carlotta turns towards him with a "weeell?" expression, and only then does Firmin rushedly say "we need you, too" with ZERO emotion, it was great! He was so DONE.

I also loved how they ended it: everyone went on the stage while it was slowly turning towards the public, ending up in the usual line facing the public and with the stage lights completely open, giving the impression they all really just stepped on the Opera's stage. It worked very well and did give me a beautiful moment of immersion and a reminder that the Opera, too is a character of sorts.

IL MUTO

I liked the staging! Overall it's slightly over the top, and the dresses are less glitzy, but the Rococò meringue-like look is still there and it works well. There is no bed but some decadent couches and ottomans instead, the background is on fabric with a big window showing a balcony and a nice garden. When the husband fakes his leave, he gets out of the door and behind the background where the window is, and then they change the lighting so it looks like he's standing on the balcony. It's simple but it adds some nice physical depth to the scene.

They do take a page from the movie here: when the performance gets interrupted by the Phantom Carlotta calls for her seamstress (with a super loud "SARTAAAAH!" we all enjoyed), who appears with a big perfume-like glass bottle and sprays Carlotta in the mouth, then everything resumes. Instead of croaking, Carlotta is more gasping for air as if her voice isn't coming out at all.

You can see the managers sitting in their box (there's no madame Firmin here) and André enjoying a nice bottle of wine, when Carlotta runs away in shame he jumps on the stage and does his bit as if tipsy and not 100% "there". I can see why Earl wanted to play the role, he's clearly suited to slapstick comedy and enjoying every moment of it!

So, André jumps in without a plan but knowing he has to do something, then he turns and sees they have a full house.. and no Countess... He manages to salvage the situation, mostly thanks to Firming feeding him suggestions from the box (I could clearly see him mouthing "ballet ballet BALLET!"), there's the usual ensuing confusion and then the male dancer LIFTS André to move him out of the way, while he's looking completely and utterly lost. It's great.

The dancers are not wearing separate outfits, just the "standard" white tutus. This is a clever way to have one less set of costumes to make, since they have moved up the ballet all of a sudden it makes sense for the dancer to not have changed yet, they probably were doing warmups and the like.

Instead of the Phantom shadows, we get the Phantom swinging wildly twice from one side of the stage to the other while laughing maniacally. It does work, because the third time it's the hanged Buquet that swings in instead, so when you see the rope for the third time your brain needs a second to register that this time something's different. My only complaint is that Ramin is clearly having a lot of fun and so his laugh isn't the most menacing xD

The scene ends the usual way, with more confusion, screams, Firmin trying to calm down the audience, and Christine and Raoul escaping to the roof.

WHY HAVE YOU BROUGHT ME HERE?

For this scene a walkway gets lowered to represent the roof, you can see the beams below which is nice. The background is a bit too dark and you can't really see it clearly, I think it's meant to show a dark night sky and the Paris skyline but it really is too dark to see what it should be, which makes it hard to understand they're on the roof. I hope they change it because it's the one blemish in an otherwise really nice scene. Christine has no special dress or cape for this scene, if I remember correctly she's wearing her Il Muto clothes + the nightgown but the rooftop scene had a lot of more interesting stuff to notice so I might be wrong.

Amelia really makes you feel how what just happened plus the kidnapping plus the revelation that her Angel of Music is a murderous weirdo is hitting Christine like a ton of bricks. She sounds so anguished at times! But luckily Raoul is there to help, which leads us to...

ALL I ASK OF YOU

Ok so, this is where this production starts to REALLY diverge character-wise. Are you ready? (Trigger warning: discussion of suicide, and mention of depression, if this might upset you please skip to the next song)

So, this song is no longer a lovey-dovey 4-minute long "I love you!" "I love you more!". It's Raoul talking Christine down from attempting suicide by jumping off the rooftop.

During the previous number, Christine grows more and more distressed, especially after hearing the Pahntom's "Christine", and she ends up at the very edge of the roof, clearly debating if it'd be better to jump. Why? you might be wondering. My theory is a mix of her getting depressed after her father's death and now having that final connection to her father severed, plus feeling responsible for Buquet's death. I did come out of this musical thinking that, the way it is in this production, the Phantom works excellently as a physical representation of Christine's depression. More about that later.

Raoul notices what's going on and backs off a little, giving Christine space. He sits on the edge of the roof, still giving her space but within arm's reach. Meanwhile, Christine has barely moved. She's standing on the edge, her shoulders hunched, hugging herself spasmodically, her hands white, her face turned down looking at her feet, or maybe at the pavement many, many floors below.

And Raoul starts the song, but now it hits differently. This time he's telling a girl feeling alone, depressed and suicidal that he'll be there for her, that he'll do what he can to make her feel safe, that he'll turn away the darkness. Not just the Phantom's darkness, but depression, too. He's seeing her at her lowest and saying "I still care for you, I still love you". Especially since at this point Raoul isn't really sold on the whole "the Phantom of the opera is real" thing, so from his point of view the real issue is Christine's depression, not a magical man in a cape.

And this gets through to Christine, and slowly, timidly, she starts to answer. "Turn my head with talk of summertime", she asks. Show me that there is a future filled with light instead of darkness for me, that I can get better, that I can live without this fear. Tell me that your promises are true, tell me that you'll stay at my side even when things get difficult and ugly, like now.

Yeah, it really got to me. This song is when I forgave this production (almost) everything.

When Christine starts singing, she's still completely still. She really looks like a statue, it's impressive the amount of anguish and desperation she projects by just being so still as if rooted in place, closed off to the world. Then, she slooowly starts to break her pose, first by looking at Raoul, who extends her a hand and... after a few seconds, she takes it and goes to sit beside him. She gets more animated as the song progresses, they hug, then the big kiss at the end.

I just realized as I was writing, this scene parallels Christine giving the Phantom his mask back, even the positions of the one offering help (Christine/Raoul) are the same as the one who has to accept it (the Phantom/Christine). It might be a coincidence, but I hope not because it would be beautiful. Where the Phantom rejects Christine's hand and help at first and accepts only to get up, close off completely and be separated from Christine, here Christine is much happier to receive help and this then leads to her and Raoul getting closer both physically and emotionally.

So everything's well, they lived happily ever after, etc., right? Right?

ALL I ASK OF YOU (REPRISE)

Ah, yes, the Phantom's turn to break our hearts.

The rooftop raises, revealing that just below where Christine and Raoul had their loving moment there's the chandelier... and the Phantom upon it. As he's singing he gets down from it, stumbles among the rooftop beams, and finally collapses on the floor holding his head in his hands when Christine and Raoul's happy voices echo in the distance. It's a very nice Phantom's breakdown, very vulnerable despite him having just killed a person. It really makes you feel sorry for him despite the situation (of his own making) he's in.

He then gets back to the chandelier, the roof rises again and the chandelier with it, the chandelier catches fire (well, not actual fire, it's a nice red smoke effect), the lightning changes to a nightmarish red, and you suddenly realize that there are red LEDs all around the stage's frame that are lighting up and making everything even more oppressive and quite infernal. The Phantom saws away at the chandelier's rope, until it comes crashing down.

Yes, the crash is less impressive than in the original. Yes, it's less clear exactly what is happening (I mean, that it's falling down on the Il Muto's bows). It's still a nice effect, the chandelier swings down towards the orchestra while the lights go on and off. If you've never seen the original, I think it can still make an impression.

I also think that this is less of a focal point for this production. For me, at least, AIAOY stole the show and in general, the emotional twists and developments were the real star of the show. It feels more like the chandelier's crash is there because it has to be, both for plot and marketing reasons.

Overall, the first act started a bit rocky, the two "big" songs have some major issues that need to be addressed, but once they got the characters going it picked up steam quickly. At intermission I was already feeling I got my ticket's worth back, to be honest.

I am working on part two, which covers the second act, the actors' performances, and some general/final thoughts. It'll be longer than this one, so I'll need at least a couple more days to finish it.

#poto italy #phantom of the opera #cw: suicide #cw: depression #long post #ramin karimloo #amelia milo #bradley jaden #anna corvino #phantom of the opera italy

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