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tharizdun-03 · 1 year

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Death Parade Watchthrough

Episode 1: Death: Seven Darts

EP 1 largely repeated the beats that Death Billiards hit (understandably) but it's still a hell of a first episode. Dunno if they'll keep the anthology style for the entire series, but the banger OP suggests the overarching story might lie with the bartenders anyway.

My main, worry might be an exaggeration, but the thematic goal of the series might not be my vibe. Going off what we've seen so far, the story seems cynical, focused on exposing the lies and pessimism amongst humans. But, we'll see what that develops into later.

I still enjoy the exploration of morality mixed in with fun games like this, so shouldn't be anything to worry about. And execution wise; the art direction, character acting, pacing, and music, that's all excellent.

Seems like this is based more on Buddhist-like thought (with reincarnation and void rather than heaven and hell, which makes sense, that it's inspired by eastern spirituality)?

And here in Purgatory, the game doesn't decide where you go really, it's just a tool to expose who you truly are, and then your actual goodness of character having been exposed decides your destination. Don't think we'll get much more mythology-wise, but it's cool.

Episode 2: Death: Reverse

EP 2 felt a bit recappy, but at the same time, it introduced some bigger thematic ideas for the series to play around with while episode 1 was rather stand-alone, so I liked this one a bit more. Very interested in seeing where this will go.

That the bartenders aren't infallible people is a very fascinating twist. I'd argue their system, as evident, is therefore fundamentally flawed, as it's mostly centered on a guess of character based on what the game reveals, but people are more complicated than that.

Obviously, we know this, as Decim picked incorrectly. So, will this be a bigger story about critiquing this system? Or will they tie it into something more intimate about human nature? Given Decim's lack of emotional reading, I'm hoping for the latter.

I'm wondering if this two-part structure will continue for the entire series. I hope not tbh, cause it just feels like things will be moving slowly then. So, hopefully, this was just a thing now to introduce things, but we'll see.

Episode 3: Rolling Ballad

I appreciate that Death Parade's third episode wasn't another "humanity is ugly and cruel deep down" but actually just had these two be good, decent people. We got some more personality from the arbiters as well. It provides the storytelling with a little more wiggle room.

The big reveal here is just that Mai had plastic surgery so she'd look more like Chisato. Which, in itself, isn't a crime. It's sad that she had to resort to it in the first place, sure, but bodily autonomy, baby. If it makes her happy, who are we to judge?

The show hasn't reached truly great levels yet, just cause the episodic stories are more interesting than extra special. But, I think it's creative and constantly thought-provoking, and that makes it a good enough watch regardless of the direction it evolves into later on.

Episode 4: Death: Arcade

Four episodes in now, and I do think we're setting things up still to criticize this system. It can't be an all-around accurate judgment of character. If you only judge people when a system pushes them into their worst moments, many decent people wouldn't pass.

But the series still things keep muddy, cause it's a complicated subject. Obviously, neither of these two made a lot of good choices in their lives or now, but does that make them bad people?

Any system, life if unfortunate enough, can twist fundamentally good people. Do they deserve punishment for that? Cause at the same time, they both showed remorse in the end too. If this was a fair system, in my eyes, there would be no hell. Everyone would just reincarnate.

You get more chances. In some lives, you'll live through unfortunate circumstances, and in others, you'll have more luck. But you can't throw them into the worst situation and only judge them there.

People have the potential to change, grow, to evolve. And you're robbing them of that potential by just sending them to the void. Here, the lady was the one sent to the void and the dude was allowed to reincarnate. Was that fair?

She was an abuser, yes. But also a victim herself. And she never got the chance to change, her life was cut short right before she could make that decision.

And what about the dude? He was neglectful to his stepmother and then killed himself. Did he have as dire circumstances as the lady? Why was he spared? It also ties into what Decim said, that they both did their best. Well... Did they really? Did the dude have to be neglectful to an obviously caring stepmother? Did he have to become a NEET? Did he even try to better himself? How hard did he try? Did he accept help from others?

Death Parade is still asking a lot of questions but it remains to be seen if it'll actually answer them itself. If it leaves things up for the viewer, I certainly have my own ideas of how an afterlife should look, but how would that be compatible with what the show has presented?

Other than that, best-produced episode since EP 1. Really good character acting and camera movement. Also glad to see it wasn't like EP 2, which just showed the same events but from a behind-the-scene perspective.

Speaking of behind-the-scenes, we still haven't delved into the arbiters (tho we have time), if the show wanted to have some sort of overarching element. But, we'll see next weekend.

Episode 5: Death: March

EP 5 continues to expose the flaws of this system and the incompetent people running it. Decim failed his performance review, Nona puts way too much faith into the rules that run this place, and God apparently left a long time ago. Cool.

There was the Chavvot story at the beginning and end of this episode. What does this mean? Could not tell you. But, it's obviously important to Decim's assistant, and the dolls she's holding at the end of the OP are from that story. So, it's somehow key to all this.

I have a suspicion that Nona is feeding her these dreams to maybe juggle around her memories? Make her remember? Decim also apparently is fascinated by her, which is why he took her in. So, she, obviously, has to be the key to him engaging with human emotions more.

Not much to say really, but I see now that the story has enough to play around with beyond its original premise, and I'm here for it.

Episode 6: Cross Heart Attack

Death Parade having this kind of episodic structure will make some vignettes more of a miss than others. EP 6 was one of the weaker ones for me, but still quite good overall.

While I liked treating the game in a bit more of a comedic style, the actual comedy wasn't that great and I can't say the fan service was very well done either.

Taking a peek into Ginti's bar was interesting for a change tho. I'm not sure if his rules differ, it seems to be more extreme at the very least, but Mayu and Harada also didn't go into the elevators at the end so?

In fact, Mayu is in the opening, so maybe she'll stick around as Ginti's assistant? For some reason? I dunno. Harada, curiously, is nowhere to be seen in the opening.

I personally don't think he was really responsible for his fan's death, but Mayu's only offense is being shallow and annoying, so I suppose he's the worst out of the two. We'll have to wait and see.

Episode 7: Alcohol Poison

EP 7 was another good one. It mainly served to reveal to us that the arbiters are actually dummies, but Decim specifically has been planted with human emotions. Certainly an interesting twist.

I was a bit confused at first, cause all the arbiters have emotions, and maybe it's a mistranslation or something, but I feel like they less mean emotions and more so empathy, which the others lack but Decim certainly has in spades, even if he seems stoic.

His keeping the human dummies as a kind of tribute to them, so their memories live on in some sort of manner, was oddly adorable and shows that he is still the most sentimental out of them all.

Also, funny, but the place is called Quindecim. The first owner was named Quin, the current one Decim. So, if a third one comes along, the name will just keep getting longer. Like, let's say the next owner is called Adam, will the bar then be Quinedecimadam, and just continue?

Episode 8: Death Rally

EP 8 was another excellent look into a new couple and their circumstances. Probably the most interesting set-up so far, but as it is a two-parter, still mostly just set-up.

Before it was revealed that both were killers, I kept guessing which one it'd be. The old dude would be too obvious, so it had to be the kid that felt unfit for the role of a murderer. But, that's an obvious bluff. So, maybe it's a double bluff, and it is the adult.

But then if it turns out to be him, is that smart, or just dumb cause that was the obvious pick? Anyway, got my mind running, but having them both be killers was the most interesting outcome available, so happy about that.

Episode 9: Death Counter

EP 9 was the best episode so far! In a sense, this is what the series has been building towards since the start. We finally got an explicit condemnation of the system and how Decim is complicit in upholding it. This is a very good show.

Talking about our two killers first, their material was certainly the strongest so far. Personally, I don't think murder as revenge is really ever justifiable, and I think Tachikawa agrees with me here.

In trying to act out his revenge, Shimada gets people he didn't originally intend to involve, and dies himself, leaving his sister behind.

He then lashes out at Tatsumi, blaming him as, at least partly responsible, because he could've prevented the assault/(rape?) from ever happening, but chose not to. Which is understandable.

I find Tatsumi himself slightly less understandable. Someone killed his wife, he believes the world is a fundamentally cruel place, and like Bruce Wayne (Batman), he chooses to go out there and punish those who are deserving of this judgment.

The issue with this, of course, is that he isn't morally justified to hand out these sentences however he sees fit, and for him to even do such, he needs the crime to have happened in the first place (dunno why, he can judge people WHILE they're committing the crime but alright).

He's reactive, not preventative (ironically a fundamental issue with actual police institutions as well). And killing some bad apples won't help, when the contexts; the internalized hierarchies and their environment, are what create these killers in the first place.

If you don't contribute to fixing the root structures at fault, you're not actually making a positive difference. You're just killing for the sake of your own selfishness.

I also don't know if I think both deserved to go to the void (which was implied). I find Shimada more "justified" since he's young, he probably only really loves his sister since his parents aren't around and I doubt he has many friends, and she pretty much asked him to do it. It felt more like a primal emotional reaction, and he simply lacked the maturity at that point to resist it. I mean, it's still murder, so I dunno. Maybe there isn't that big of a difference.

I also have to say, there's a bit of an emotional disconnect for me with this show. Feel like often the show gives us characters and then we learn what happened to them, rather than really letting us know them as people. It's inherent to the story structure but worth mentioning.

Probably also partly that while the series is very thought-provoking, the themes or characters aren't exactly emotionally relatable, so it stays intellectual (but not everything has to be the best ever, it can just be very good at what it does).

As previously noted, however, I do think the system is just fundamentally unfair. I don't think the void should exist at all, everyone should be reincarnated. Having a system inherent in pushing us all to our very worst and judging us on that, I mean, c'mon?

Forcing people far enough and anyone will lash out in selfish ways. You can't judge people on that. Manipulating people into committing murder by thrusting the most extreme emotions onto them doesn't speak of them as people.

It doesn't mean they were always fundamentally murderers or anything. Why doesn't your system focus more on rehabilitation instead? On helping people, on shaping them to grow up, and then sending them out to try again, to be better?

And we finally got an explicit condemnation of this, so what remains to be seen is if the series will try to fix this system somehow and not have it just remain as a critique that "this is bad." Show us a way out of it. What is your solution?

Episode 10: Story Teller

I appreciate that we get a guest who's actually perfectly satisfied with her life. It's a nice way to show the underlying empathy in the show without resorting to big, dramatic squabbles.

Episode 11: Memento Mori

That was a mess.

Let's first talk about Mayu, who didn't really end up doing anything in the bigger picture. We basically never saw her until this episode, where she told Ginti that at least she chose her shitty life out of her own free will. Like, okay lol.

I have absolutely zero reason to care about her and her struggles with Harata, and this message about free will was just not significant. Her being cast into the void with Harata just made me roll my eyes. That's what she amounted to, dying with her idol.

And Ginti has this whole deal with him thinking that the purpose of living is just to die eventually, but Decim thinks that because you're alive you will die sometime, and like yeah, obviously? That's not a meaningful thought.

Then we get to Chiyuki. Oh boy. Her skating through her memories was beautifully done, but then we get to the actual flashbacks which reveal that she killed herself because she couldn't skate anymore. I mean, not to trivialize her issues, but...

It's not a bad idea on paper, but then she goes on this rant about how not being able to skate made her realize how people can never truly understand each other and it's wrong to try, and it's like, girl what? There's no logical red thread there.

Maybe if they made it so that her relationships with her family and friends were built mostly solely on her ice skating skills it would make sense why she considered them fake and hollow, but no.

Like, I said, it's fine on paper, but the execution butchered it so much that it became "oh, I can't skate anymore so people can never understand each other and I should kill myself."

A lot of the issues in this episode, which sadly soiled most of Chiyuki's character, is that it's not conceptually incorrect but just so underdeveloped it doesn't come across as coherent. I feel like I'm not explaining my feelings well enough, but well, hey.

Also, Light Yagami?

Episode 12: Suicide Tour

Mixed finale. Some good stuff (mostly idea-wise) and some clunky stuff (mostly execution-wise).

A lot of the big thematic ideas just aren't that meaningful, so when Chiyuki finally comes to the conclusion that all lives are valuable and she probably shouldn't kill people, it's like "yeah obviously".

The whole test with the button was weird tbh. She didn’t press it herself, but by the end, she literally begged Decim to push it for her, which is in essence the same as her pushing it so it just came off as her wanting it but not wanting to be guilty.

Anyway, I also get that having presented the arbiters as inhuman for so long and having them realize that not being removed from human suffering will actually help them in their judgment, that's all nice.

Decim ending up wanting to be an arbiter that helps people process their lives and regrets instead of just being about judgment and punishment is also nice, but!

While this is nice on paper, considering Chiyuki's character development was so incoherent, and that Decim's big realizations were so clunkily executed, it doesn't come across well at all.

I would've also liked for them to fight a bit more against the system, which btw, just got worse with the added rule that they can't work with humans because it “ruins them”. Nothing is done, Decim just tries to be nicer to the ones he meets, and that's it.

That's lovely and all, but you know, would've been nice if they focused a bit more on them at least still trying to resist the system over time. It is now only a bit fairer to the people that come to this one arbiter, but this system is still fundamentally wrong.

A nice twist was the arbiters being made up of discarded souls tho. Makes them more human than originally thought, huh.

Anyway, overall. A lot of it is just clunky, and the thematic ideas it presented just weren't very significant to me. They're either obvious or impersonal and the character development being all over the place doesn't help make it interesting.

Overall Thoughts:

Death Parade was a thoughtful show, with strong presentation and compelling vignettes. I don't think it had enough actual significance to say to reach higher and some of the character development is clunky, but I had an overall entertaining and intellectually stimulating time.

#death parade #anime #watchthrough

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citrusdarling7 · 3 years

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jealously

summary- Tom Riddle becomes jealous of reader’s boyfriend and decides to take matters into his own hands

warnings- smut, cheating, degrading, edging, and a bit of light choking. dom! tom, sub! reader

🗡—————————————————————🗡

I’ve never been much of a morning person, but for some reason I was up early today. I knew that I had a potions essay due tomorrow, and I was behind on it. Still in my silky nightgown, I assumed no one else would be in the common room. To my surprise, Abraxas was sitting in front of the fireplace. I smiled and tip-toed over to him, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind him. He squeezed one of my hands gently, acknowledging my presence.

“Darling, why are you up? It’s barely 5 am,” he told me softly. I rolled my eyes and swiveled around the couch so I could sit down next to him.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Malfoy. Oh my God, what happened to your face?” Even in the dim lighting of the Slytherin common room, I could see the dark purple bruises around one of his eyes. I gently reached up to try and touch him, but he turned his face to the side.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Did you sleep well?” He tried to change the subject, but I didn’t let up.

“Brax, what the hell happened? Please tell me that the other guy looks worse,” I said while positioning myself closer to him. I gently ran a finger along his jawline in a comforting gesture. I could smell his sage wood cologne, which I absolutely adored.

“Truthfully darling, I think I’m lucky I walked away without him cursing me. He was absolutely livid after you left.”

Of course. I was such an idiot. Tom had done this to him.

Late last night, Abraxas and I were kissing in the corridor when we decided we wanted to go somewhere more private. Abraxas knows how to find the Room of Requirement, and he dragged me inside, still kissing my neck and holding onto my waist. Unfortunately for us, all of the other 6th year Slytherin boys were already there, brewing some type of illegal potion. Not only had Abraxas forgotten he was supposed to meet with them that night, but he had also exposed me to what was happening.

Although some people would believe so, I’m not naive to what goes on in this school. I know about Tom and his pursuits in dark magic. I know about their constant fights with those Gryffindors who all wear that one lion pin. But Tom seemed to believe that I had no prior knowledge of these secret meetings, and he instantly started yelling at us.

“Malfoy, you idiot! You are not supposed to bring back girls to this room, and certainly not when we’re in the middle of illicit activities!”

Rosier and Avery were still sitting by the cauldron, doing nothing to help the situation. I stepped away from Abraxas and turned towards Tom.

“Calm down, Riddle. You and your superiority complex need to learn that not everyone’s life revolves around yours,” I spat at him. Tom took a step closer to me, and I instinctively reached to pull out my wand. Before I had a chance to, I felt the back of my head being slammed against the wall, Tom’s hand gripping my throat tightly. Abraxas and Rosier both shouted for Tom to let go of me, but I just smiled. I stared him down, letting him know that I wasn’t afraid of him.

“You’re not allowed to speak to me that way,” he growled.

“I can speak to you any way I want Tommy.” His eyes looked as if he wanted to strangle me, but I saw the trace of a smile play across his lips. He abruptly let go of me and turned towards Abraxas.

“You need to keep your girlfriend under control. Get out of here.” Abraxas quickly grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the door.

“Not you, Malfoy. Your presence is still required here.” I opened my mouth to tell him off again, but Abraxas quickly shook his head.

“Go back to the common room, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” I reluctantly sighed, but figured that I shouldn’t piss Tom off even more. I should have known that Tom would still be angry with Abraxas.

Flashing back to present time, I turned around to look towards the boys dormitories. Abraxas could tell what I was thinking, so he gently squeezed my hand.

“Leave it alone, dearest. He was fine the rest of the night, confronting him will just make him mad again. I don’t want you to get hurt, my love.”

I’m not one to back down easily, and I constantly let my temper get the best of me. But Abraxas’ soft touch against my leg and heart-felt words relaxed me a bit.

“Alright. I won’t say anything. Have you done Slughorn’s essay yet?”

We spent the next hour or so alone in the common room, trying to hastily finish up homework. By the time that others started waking up, I was sitting in his lap, my hands in his hair as we kissed passionately.

“You two are disgusting. 20 points from Slytherin,” a cold voice said. I rolled my eyes and gave Abraxas a quick peck on the lips before sliding off of him and back onto the couch. Tom was Head Boy, and he had no problem with taking points from his own house. He had a lot of nerve as well. Almost every single night I watched him drag some girl into his room. She always left limping a few hours later, and Tom never spoke to her again.

“Put some clothes on. You’re dressed like a whore,” he spat at me. I scoffed at him, but got up to head back to my room anyways. As I slipped on my school robes and brushed out my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tom.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. I managed to get through all of my classes without speaking a word to Tom. After watching the Slytherin quidditch team practice while gossiping with Lestrange, I sat with Rosier and Abraxas in the common room. Rosier made me play chess with him, beating me every single time. This was strange, since I considered myself an excellent chess player. I guess I was just a little distracted. Abraxas excused himself to his dorm room, saying that he had a ton of homework to do. He gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek before leaving.

“Something on your mind?” Rosier asked me. I sighed and slumped down in my chair.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m still kind of upset about what happened with Tom. Why do you guys let him treat you all so awfully?”

“It’s not as simple as that. Being friends with Riddle has advantages and disadvantages. The occasional hex or punch to the face isn’t much of a price to pay.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“One of these days I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” I said with a grin. Rosier chuckled and patted my arm.

“Good luck with that.”

A few hours later I was lying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I had been trying desperately to fall asleep. But something was still on the back of my mind, and that something was preventing me from being able to relax. I let out a sigh and rolled out of bed. I slipped out of my room and quietly walked down the stairs, into the common room. I then made my way up the stairs leading to the boys dormitory. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door, and my nostrils were instantly filled with the smell of smoke. Tom stood inches away from me, still in his school uniform. He was holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet-name.

“You are absolutely insane, Riddle! You walk around this damn school like you own the place, and I’m sick of it.” He smiled and offered out his arm to me.

“If you’re going to yell at me, then you might as well do it behind closed doors,” he offered. I didn’t take his hand, but I did step inside and let him shut the door behind me. Since he was Head Boy, his room was bigger than all of ours. I could see that his window was open, probably because of the smoke. His bed had black silky sheets adorning it, and I could see all of the books on his desk were neatly stacked. His box of cigarettes was laying on his nightstand.

“So did you come here just to tell me off or did you want a smoke as well?” he taunted.

I turned around to face him again.

“I want you to stop hitting my boyfriend. And the rest of the boys. You have to learn how to respect others.” He chuckled darkly while taking a step towards me.

“Darling, that’s a pretty demanding request. My respect has to be earned.” In an attempt to look more confident, I crossed my arms across my chest.

“You’re such a child, Tom. I don’t know why you think that everyone worships you!” I shouted at him. He quickly wrapped his free hand around my neck and pushed me against the wall. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.

“That’s because everyone does. Everyone except you it seems.” I don’t know why Tom had this constant need to slam me up against the wall and choke me. It didn’t make me afraid of his dumbass.

Honestly, it was kind of hot. He brought his other hand up to my face and he touched my cheek softly.

“Did you and Malfoy ever finish what you started yesterday?” It took me a moment to realize that he was asking if we had fucked.

“That’s none of your business,” I snapped at him. He tightened his grip on my throat and used one of his legs to pin down mine.

“Answer my question.”

“No, I haven’t slept with him. Why do you care?” Tom brought his head down to my neck and whispered into my ear.

“Because I’m not into sloppy seconds.” Before I had a chance to mention the fact that he probably had over twenty bodies, he started kissing me roughly. I kissed him back and wrapped my leg around one of his. I let him suck on my neck as he pushed my thin nightgown up my leg and slipped one of his hands under it. He started to slowly rub circles on my thigh. He continued to suck on my neck as I tried to grind against him. He growled and used his other hand to push my waist back against the wall.

“None of that. Do you want me to touch you, darling?” he asked in a mocking tone. I nodded and he slipped his fingers into my underwear.

“Someone’s a needy little slut,” he whispered. Part of me wanted to call him a man-whore, but the part of me that valued my life kept me quiet. I felt him push two fingers inside me and I whimpered. He started to rub my clit with his thumb as he thrusted his fingers in and out of me. He started kissing my neck again as I moaned quietly. He was going incredibly slow, making me desperate for every touch. At a particularly sharp pressure, one of my legs twitched and I had to bite my lip to stop from making noise. Tom chuckled and tilted my chin towards him.

“Didn’t you come here to yell at me? Are you going to yell at me now, darling?” He started to rub me faster, which made it difficult for me to even speak.

“I hate you,” I was able to mutter. He laughed and pinched my waist roughly, making me jump. After only a few minutes, I was starting to get close to my peak. I felt my legs start to shake as I bit my lip to stifle my moans. Tom noticed this, so he stopped touching me. I frowned as he leaned down to whisper into my ear.

“Did you really think I was going to let you come that quickly?”

Before I had the chance to respond, he grabbed my legs and spun me around, pushing me onto his bed. He quickly tugged my nightgown off of me and started to take off his shirt. I tried to reach up and help him, but he used his free hand to push me back onto the bed. He quickly unbuckled his belt and kicked his pants off before getting on top of me. I felt his member pressing against my thigh. He wrapped a hand around my throat again and used the other hand to gently rub one of my hips.

“Is this what you want? Me to fuck you senseless while your boyfriend sleeps two rooms over?” I felt him rub against my clit, teasing me purposefully. I decided that I wouldn’t tell him that me and Abraxas weren’t actually dating until later.

“Tom-”

“Shut up,” he growled before thrusting into me sharply. As he rocked into me, I definitely felt a bit of pain. He was bigger than what I was used to, but I was adjusting quickly. I tried to rest my arms on his shoulders, but he didn’t like that. He pinned my hands above my head and started to attack my neck with his mouth.

“If you do that again, I’ll tie you down. Don’t test me,” he muttered. He continued to rail into me over and over, hitting me at just the right angle. In less than ten minutes I was close again. I tightly clenched the sheets and tried to grind my hips against his to alleviate some of the tension. That’s when he slipped out of me with a grin.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said while stroking my hair.

“Are you fucking serious?” I complained.

“Completely. Be a good girl and maybe I’ll let you finish before the night is over.”

I will admit, his self-control was pretty impressive. Most guys wouldn’t be able to handle pulling out before they had finished. But I also figured that he was just bluffing. There was no way he would be able to do this for more than twenty minutes. After 30 or so seconds of him attacking my mouth with his tongue, he thrusted into me again. This time his strokes were a bit slower and more gentle. He rubbed one of my arms lightly as he made me shiver at his touch.

“Tom, oh my God,” I moaned into his neck. I assumed he was going to tell me to shut up, but I guess he liked knowing how good he was making me feel.

“That’s right, darling. You like this?” I nodded my head as he pressed soft kisses against my jawline. I was definitely pleased with his change of pace. The slow stroked and gentle kisses made this feel a bit more like a normal thing. But of course, that didn’t last very long. Once he was done leaving hickies all over my neck, he wrapped his hand around it. He started to press himself deeper inside of me, rocking me into his bed. I whimpered as he hit a spot that made my legs twitch.

“Quiet, slut,” he demanded. I tilted my head slightly away from him, trying to stifle my moans with one of his pillows. I was panting at this point, desperately gripping onto the sheets.

“Could Malfoy make you feel this good?”

“Yeah, if I was with him I would’ve came by now,” I thought to myself. However, I shook my head in an attempt to appease him.

“That’s right. Should I let you finish now?” I nodded and he jerked my face back towards him. “Alright. Beg for it.” That actually made me laugh. There was no way I was going to give into him that easily. Tom shrugged and continued to pound into me. “Be difficult then. I don’t care either way.”

I bit down my lip to muffle a scream as my stomach flipped and my legs shook. Right when I was about to be sent over the edge, he pulled out of me again. By now, I was completely fed up with him. I tried to bring one of my hands down between my legs, but he was quicker than me. He grabbed both of my arms and roughly pinned them above my head.

“I don’t think so, dear. I want the whole hallway to hear you screaming my name,” he said while stroking my cheek tauntingly.

“Good luck with that,” I said with an eye roll.

“You’re mine now. No one gets to touch you but me,” he muttered into my ear before thrusting into me again. By now I could see finger-shaped bruises starting to form on my waist. We had been going at it for at least 35 minutes, and my body was aching for release. I was confident that he had left at least 5 or so hickies on my neck, which I was not looking forward to having to cover up tomorrow. Out of instinct, I tried to move my leg around his to adjust the angle. Tom slammed me down onto his bed roughly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled. He pressed one of his thumbs against my clit, making me whimper. I was so frustrated that tears had started to stream down my face. Tom gently wiped them away with his free hand.

“Are you gonna apologize for yelling at me earlier?” he asked in a snarl. I shook my head, which made him chuckle.

“That’s what I thought. If you’re gonna be like that, you clearly haven’t learned your lesson.” He started to kiss roughly at my collar, obviously trying to mark me more. After a few minutes of listening to me whine and pant, he decided to give me another chance.

“Promise me you’ll stop hanging around Malfoy,” he said softly. That kind of threw me for a loop.

“What? Why?” He nibbled on my ear lobe and thrusted into me sharply.

“You’re my little slut now. I don’t want him touching you. Promise me.” I instinctively shook my head, which only made his thrusts even harder.

“Promise me, darling. Like I said, I can go all night.” I really, really wanted to keep my mouth shut. But I was so overwhelmed, I couldn’t take much more.

“Fine. I promise. Please Tom, I-”

He bit down on my lip and thrusted into me at the perfect angle and speed.

Over-and-over again.

I moaned his name as well as a stream of profanities as waves of pleasure tore through my body. My legs were shaking so bad that he had to actually hold them down. While I was riding out my high, Tom muttered praises into my ear. I was so extremely sensitive that every touch set off fireworks against my skin.

“Take me like a good girl,” he said before roughly grabbing my throat. It took him a few minutes to finish himself off, but when he did it was so hot. He didn’t even bother to pull out. He continued to kiss me for a bit before he got up and started to walk towards his bathroom.

“Now, get the hell out of my room, whore.”

I smiled at his lovely term of endearment as I tried to quickly pull my clothing back on. I stood up quickly, and my legs gave out beneath me. Tom laughed as he put on his bathrobe.

“You’re pathetic,” he said while helping me up. Surprisingly enough, he walked me back to my dorm, smiling the entire way. Before he turned to leave he pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Sleep well, darling.” I flashed him a sweet smile.

“You too, Riddle.”

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #smut #tom riddle oneshot #oneshot #harry potter #hogwarts #slytherin #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #fanfic

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emisonme · 3 years

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This will be big but i felt like sharing my thoughs. I love camila, so so much…but I feel like sometimes people are praising her too much. Camila loves fame, no matter how many of you deny it, it’s pretty obvious that she does. I’ve seen plenty of arguments on twitter regarding the 4H vs C topic and I can’t help but notice some people saying stuff like “camila didn’t choose to be in this position”, “all the girls treated her like shit when it wasn’t even up to her decide”. Well obviously I know the feud between the 5H girls was fake, but it really messes with me that people still continue to paint camila as the victim. Even tho camila may have not betrayed the other girls as they tried to make it seem, she sure as hell accepted this full of privileges position she was given since the beginning. And I’m not saying this is a bad thing, because honestly which one of us would deny such opportunity, if we were in her place? But most of us and I’m also talking about me, tend to forget that camila is also a person who has negative traits, not only positives. Unfortunately one of her biggest negatives, is that she grew to love the spotlight. And if you really think about it, it makes sense since she was always so shy around people and when she got a taste of the “pop star” life, she felt mesmerised by it. From my point of view, as soon as she got that taste she also started craving the “bigger” things. Big arena concerts, awards, people loving her. For example lauren might love her job as an artist, but she undeniably hates the fame that comes with it. She’s just in it because she truly wants to share a piece of her soul and justify the definition of a true artist. And I’m not saying that mila is not, she sure as hell wants to create art. But if you ask me, the difference between these two is that lauren would be completely content with singing in a room full of people who simply appreciate her art, whilst camila would prefer to be in an arena full of people who sing her songs and scream her name. Not that laure wouldn’t like that, but I think you get the point. And I don’t know if anyone noticed, but until a few years ago well actually before the pandemic started, her management continued to push down the image of this “goofy innocent” girl who was happy all the time. She also pushed it herself because that was her job! No matter how much we think we know her,camila is still a pop star in the music industry who plays a part, just like everyone else who works in that damned department. And based on the above I’d like to point out that (no matter how many of you disagree with this) nobody is forcing camila to stay in the closet. Yes I know I sound ridiculous but hear me out. There isn’t a single contract which can legally force someone to hide their sexuality. Yes her management may have warned her not to come out in fear of losing profits and even blackmailed her, but at the end of the day it’s her choice. If she desperately wanted to come out as we all make it seem, she would’ve done it by now. The fact that she doesn’t, should tell us, that afterall she does care about her image. Even if that’s taking a toll on her now, it was her decision to follow that path. It was her decision to stay in the closet, it was her decision to accept the pr with shawn and it was her decision to keep playing the “happy” girlfriend to the media. No matter how much she was manipulated by this hell hole, camila is a pretty clever person. If she didn’t want any of this and simply wanted to be authentic to herself and the rest of the world, she simply wouldn’t care if she lost the title of the pop princess. But she does care. And it’s completely normal at this point, cause in this industry either you lose yourself or you come out stronger. Unfortunately I believe that camila’s case belongs to the first occasion. I don’t think that present camila we see in interviews or shows or whatever is the real camila. That camila is long gone. Anyway sorry if this was exhausting and thanks to anyone who read it all,cause I really wanted to share this with someone

someone

Good Lord, Anon, that's a lot to unpack. I will start by saying, I agree with some, and disagree with some of what you had to say. Now, where to start...

You say it still messes with you, that everyone still portrays Camila as the victim. Are you going to deny that Camila WAS/IS victimized? The truth is, they were ALL victimized. They are ALL victims of an abusive Industry.

You said, "she sure as hell accepted this full of privileges position she was given since the beginning." You are either forgetting, or just plain don't care, that Fifth Harmony was a highly controlled entity. There was no choosing, or "accepting" privileges. They each did what they were told to do, said what they were told to say, and acted the way they were told to act. They were each given a role to play, and they were contractually obligated to play that role.

Yes, they were contractually obligated to act a certain way. There has been ample proof given, that none of the girls had any control over their PUBLIC image. Camila still has no control over her PUBLIC image, because there has been ample proof, she is still operating under her original contract.

Did Camila choose to sign that original contract? Yes, she did. Did she read that original contract? According to Lauren, probably not. None of them did. Did Camila agree to sign her solo contract? Yes, she did. But as I've explained before, if she wanted to continue in the music industry, she had no choice but to sign the solo contract they offered her. That solo contract is still connected to her original contract.

Camila is a human being. We ALL have positive and negative traits. Camila, all the ladies of 5H, you and me, we all have our positives and negatives. None of us are perfect.

You said, "one of her biggest negatives, is that she grew to love the spotlight." Why is that a negative? Hell, they ALL wanted the spotlight. Every person who gets into the Entertainment Industry, wants to get themselves in the spotlight. They all want to succeed in the field of their choice. To succeed, they have to garner the attention, and live in the "spotlight", in one way, or another.

Every one of them auditioned on a NATIONALLY TELEVISED talent show. They wouldn't have done that, if they didn't want to be noticed, and hopefully thrust into the spotlight of success. They ALL wanted that spotlight of success to be as solo artists. It's didn't quite work out that way. But, they ALL chose to try and achieve that spotlight as a group.

If one has been paying attention, from the beginning, Camila made no bones about her desired dream. She has stated from the beginning, she wanted to be a "pop star". Of course she wanted the spotlight. Lauren has said, from the beginning, she wanted to be "famous and travel the world". She wanted to be a famous star, in the spotlight.

Since you have chosen to compare Camila and Lauren, I'll answer to them. You seem to think there is this big chasm between the two. There really isn't. The only difference is the outcome, thus far. Lauren STILL wants the spotlight and fame, she just wants it on her terms. The problem is, it's damn near impossible to get that success on ones own terms, in an Industry that insists on dictating the terms.

That's a more recent decision on Lauren's part, by the way. You seem to be conveniently forgetting, that until 2019, Lauren also "chose" to play the game on THEIR terms. It was most likely, a two year PR contract, with a drug addicted gang-banger that turned her off of THE GAME. Lauren was pissed, that after all that, her debut album got shelved in 2019. I DON'T BLAME HER!!! I'm sure that also contributed to her decision, that THEIR TERMS suck ass.

Does Camila "crave" the big concerts, accolades, and people loving her? Yes, she does. They ALL do, or they wouldn't have signed solo contracts after putting 5H on hiatus. Instead, they would have said "this Industry sucks" and walked away. They didn't. They ALL craved more.

Lauren wants the same thing Camila has, just on her terms. Lauren doesn't "hate fame". She hates the negative side of fame. She hates having her life dictated by terms and schedules. She hates being told what to say, and how to act. She hates that fans get all up in her business.

She loves the nicer side of fame. She wants to see a lot of people come and see her perform. She loves to be on stage and see her fans singing and dancing to her music. She appreciates the accolades. She loves the love she gets from her fans. She would love even more, if her fans would multiply, and buy and stream the hell out of her music, instead of always bitching, telling her who she is, and how she should be, and getting all up in her damn business.

All one has to do, is listen to Lauren and the anger inside her about all this mess. She wants more. She wants more than a fucking "room full of people" enjoying her art. She wants a stadium full of people enjoying her art. WHO THE FUCK WOULDN'T. She just wants that stadium full of people to enjoy her art, and not expect more than that from her. I'm sure Camila would appreciate the same damn thing.

Unfortunately, that's simply not how the music industry is set up, these days. The difference is, Camila has accepted the fact, that she IS the product. Lauren has not. Lauren don't want to be a product. She wants her music/art to be the product.

I've said it a million times, the music industry hardly sells music, anymore. The music Industry sells the artist. The music has become a bi-product of the Artist. The Industry knows which artists will sell, and which ones won't. They know what image will sell, and which ones won't. Be the artist THEY want you to be, THEY'LL make you a star, and maybe even famous. If not, good luck.

Finally, you are completely right. There isn't a contract out there, that says someone can't come out of the closet. That would be blatant discrimination, and wouldn't pass the muster of the legal system. But, when you sign away control of your own image in a contract, that gives the contract holder the rights to dictate what your PUBLIC image will be. If they want you to have a straight PUBLIC image, then you'll have a straight PUBLIC image. If THEY want you to have a "good girl next door" image, then that's the PUBLIC image you'll have. You signed away your rights to be your authentic self, when you signed away the rights to control how others see you, period!!!

IN MY OPINION, Camila has come out of the closet so damn many times, I can't even count any more. She just has to do so, in a way that isn't obvious to those who have control over how others see her. Take her last video, for instance. When one listens to terms she chooses to use, and does a bit of research, you'll discover, what I believe is the hidden meaning behind that video. If I'm correct in MY THINKING, she has yet again, screamed her truth from the rooftops, for those who choose to listen, and understand.

As for the PR contracts...I was the first person to say, Camila made the choice to sign into those particular contracts. When one signs away control over their own public image, it also allows those in control to dictate that one MUST enter into PR contracts to help THEM present the PUBLIC image THEY want for that particular artist. The artist gets a say in which person that PR is with, simply because they HAVE to agree to sign the contract with that particular person.

So, did Camila agree to sign into this PR contract with the human hair ball? She absolutely did....And NO ONE should be surprised by it. It is quite clear that this shit has been in the making, since June/July of 2015. Hell, after that shit show with the British Bore, even the majority of the fandom was asking for it. The timing was right, and here we are.

Lastly, Camila is always stepping out of the closet, like I said above. IN MY OPINION, she wants her fans to know who she truly is, but that doesn't mean she wants to tell the world in definitive terms. Like Lauren, she wishes people could simply appreciate the music, and leave per private life out of it, but she also knows that's a pipe dream, and not reality.

She knows, the second she decides to speak her truth aloud, her career takes, yet another, blow. I also think, that's one of the reasons THEY, through the media, make sure her ignorant youth is continuously brought up. The more she has to fight to get through that hardship, the more she will want to keep her truth a secret. (yes, a definite manipulation tactic)

Camila could decide to say, fuck it all, and come out with her truth at any time, after her contract is up. She could also decide never to PUBLICLY come out. It's her choice, unless people in power decide to take that choice away from her.

Whitney Houston took her truth with her to the grave. Taylor lives with her truth, one foot in the closet, and one foot out. That's basically what Camila is doing now. IN MY OPINION. Her public foot is in the closet, and her music/art foot is out. If people cared more about the music/art, they would get the authentic truth. If you care more about her public image, you'll get exactly what THEY want her to be.

People try to tell you, and others this all the damn time. Take the recent interviews. If you notice, Camila, and others are always saying how vulnerable, honest, and authentic she is, IN HER ART. Her truth is in her craft, whether acting or music. Her PUBLIC image, is just that, an image to sell to the PUBLIC. Everyone in the Entertainment Industry has one...Even Lauren. Yes, she did play the game. She still has her toe in the game, she just isn't playing it at a high level, right now...and, unfortunately for her, it shows!!!

There! I answered your book with a damn novel. As always, I could be wrong with my opinions, but they are my opinions!!!!!! !! !!!!

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fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan · 3 years

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A Lie to Love - Nathan MacKinnon

This is for @antoineroussel Summer Fic Exchange. I had the wonderful @broadstbroskis!

I had so much fun writing this fic and reading everyone else's work, I love getting to see so many great writers sharing their work on this site. This is also one of the longest pieces I have written in a very long time, as I was writing this I had a million other fic ideas pop in my head so many those will get written some time soon.

***

I just sat down on my couch, just getting home from work when someone started knocking on my apartment door. I was hoping to ignore it and it would go away, unfortunately they kept knocking. I groaned as I got up, decided how much I was going to curse this person out. “What-” Right behind the door was Nate, giving me a nervous smile.

I had met Nate through his teammate Gabe, I babysat for Gabe and Melissa on a regular basis. Nate showed up one night that I was watching their daughter looking for advice from Melissa. I was able to help him then he hung out with me until Gabe and Melissa came home. Since then I could expect him to show up at my apartment at least once a week for dinner, and we were close friends after I had to save him from a laundry emergency that first night I met him.

“I’m so glad you’re home. I need a huge favor.” Leaving the door open I headed back towards my couch, I knew Nate would follow me and close the door behind him. Once I was sitting on the couch again Nate pulled my legs onto his lap.

“Last time you asked for a favor I ended up with the flu.” Which was true, he had asked me to help out at a learn to skate event that was outside in December. It had been a cold and foggy day, and two days later I was down for the count.

“I brought you soup! And tissues for we left for that road trip.”

“You brought me one box of tissues and two cans of tomato soup.” Nate raised an eyebrow like I had proven his point. I threw a pillow at his head before speaking again. “I’m allergic to tomatoes!”

“Oh, I’m an idiot. Sorry. But I still need a favor.” I really wanted to just say no, ask Nate to leave and go to sleep until I had to go into the office tomorrow. But I knew I was going to say yes before I even found out what he needed. “Please Ruth.”

“What is this favor?”

“I need you to be my fake girlfriend.”

“That was not what I was expecting you to say.” That got a small chuckle out of Nate but he also looked nervous. “Why do you need a fake girlfriend?” Nate was in a ‘single and loving it’ stage of life, he just wanted to play hockey and hang out with his teammates.

“An executive on the team has been talking up his daughter for like the last two years. I’ve been able to brush off the hints he has been throwing at me, luckily she doesn’t live here. Today he came up to me when I was heading out for the day, talking about how his daughter is coming into town and how we should get dinner together so I can get to know her. I thought I could brush it off as a one off dinner, say we there was no connection and then she would be gone. Easy, ya know?”

“Not really. But continue.”

“Apparently this isn’t just a visit for her, she is moving here. And going to work for the team on the social media team.”

“That must have ruined your plan.” Nate nodded and I knew I was going to agree to his crazy plan. “So how did all this lead to me needing to be your fake girlfriend?”

“I panicked and said I had a girlfriend.”

“And I’m the only girl you hang out with that isn’t related to you or in a relationship with a teammate.”

“You are also one of my best friends and the one person I trust every part of my life with. I know this is a lot to ask, I know this is bigger than asking you to help with a skating event. This is a change to every part of your life, and lying to a lot of people.”

“I’ll do it.” Nate’s jaw actually dropped like he couldn’t believe I was agreeing to do it. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Thank you, thank you so much. I know this is a huge ask, I really do.”

“Before we talk about details, I need food and wine. Not necessarily in that order.” I ordered food and pulled out the biggest wine glass I had. As we waited for the food, we came up with a plan and story to tell everyone. We decided to stick with the cliche story of best friends who decided to fall for each other.

“Um, what about kissing? And other PDA?” Nate’s cheeks flushed as he asked the question and I knew it wasn’t from the wine. “I don’t want to do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

“Let’s just start with hand holding and that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good.” Our food was delivered then, Nate going to the door and coming back with the bags of food.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it, you can think about it like this is our first date.” I nod and start eating once we decided on something to watch. This felt normal for us, eating take out and watching whatever hockey game Nate was able to find. After we finished eating Nate helped me clean everything up before he got ready to leave. I walked him to the door, hugging him tightly as he let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I will ever be able to repay you for doing this. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it Nate, I’ll always be there when you need me.” I closed the door behind him, hoping that I wouldn’t regret agreeing to fake date my best friend.

Nate’s pov

I had been ignoring my phone since I pulled into the parking lot at Ruth’s apartment building, knowing that asking Ruth to do this would make or break our friendship. When I left her apartment I was hopeful that this wouldn’t be the end of our friendship. But I also knew it was only going to make my feelings for her grow. I realized within a month of knowing Ruth that I had feelings for her, and I had almost told her a dozen times a year since then.

I checked my phone when I got home, I had four missed phone calls from my captain and nearly a dozen texts. I skipped over looking at all the messages and just called him. “Nate, why did I hear you say that you are dating someone? Mel has been questioning me since this afternoon because she heard you say to someone that you are in a relationship. She is pissed that I didn’t tell her about it. Which is hard to do considering I had no clue.”

Before I could answer I heard Mel’s voice. “MacKinnon, you better tell me who you are dating.”

“Uh, Ruth-” There was a loud squeal on the other end of the call and then I heard Landy trying to shush his wife.

“When were you going to tell us this?” Gabe asked after it got quiet. I wanted to tell them the truth, we had talked about it. We eventually decided that we wouldn’t tell them the truth because Gabe was the worst gossiper on the team.

“It’s only been about a month, we wanted to make sure this was going to work before we shared it with anyone. We wanted to wait even longer but one of the executives was trying to set me up with his daughter.”

“Alright. I guess that is enough information from now. We can always ask more questions at that fundraiser on Friday night.”

“Oh shit.” That caused Gabe to laugh at me.

“You didn’t tell her about that yet?”

“No, we weren’t going public yet so I figured that I would just go by myself. But I guess I need to tell her about that now and see if she is willing to come with me.”

“That is a big first outing, good luck with that buddy.” Gabe hung up and I knew that I needed to tell Ruth about Friday but when I left she had mentioned she was going to crash as soon as I left. I figured I should go to bed now and deal with everything tomorrow.

***

I was getting ready to knock on Ruth’s door when it flew open and Ruth was standing there looking shocked. “Nate! What are you doing here?” Her eyes then looked at the coffee cup I was holding, one that I had brought for her. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You only ever bring me my favorite coffee order when you have bad news.”

“I-Landy reminded me last night that we have a black tie fundraiser on Friday night.”

“And now that our supposed relationship is public, you are expected to bring your girlfriend with you.”

“Yeah. I am sorry, I never meant to make your life this complicated.” Ruth took the coffee from me, taking a sip before locking her door.

“I know what I signed up for Nate. I need to get to work, walk with me to my car.” I followed her through the hall of her apartment, waiting for her to yell at me. “What is this fundraiser for? And what kind of dress do I need?”

“It’s for the children’s hospital. We do it every year, they book a huge ballroom and it’s a lot of rich people. The Avs don’t run this fundraiser but all the sports teams in town donate a bunch of stuff to them to auction off and the team likes us to go so the people are more willing to open their wallets.”

“And yet that doesn’t tell me what kind of dress I need, or what time this thing is. Or any of the other million things I need to know to get ready for this thing.”

“I’m not sure about any of this, every year I go by myself. I can have Mel call you?”

“That sounds good. I have to go now, I have a project that was assigned to me yesterday that is way behind schedule. So thank you for the coffee and I’ll see you later.” I watched as she got into her car and drove away.

Ruth’s pov

By the time lunch came around I was buried under a pile of work, I hoped that if I could work through lunch and stay a little late every day this week that I would be caught up by the end of the week so I could focus on the lie at this fundraiser. So when I saw that Melissa was calling me I knew my plan was about to be derailed. “Hey Melissa.”

“I am going to ignore the fact that you didn’t tell me about you and Nate. And I am also going to save all of my questions for later, Nate told me that you need a dress for Friday. I can be at your office in 10 minutes, we can go shopping during your lunch hour.”

“I am so behind on a project that was just given to me this morning and it was already so far behind because the guy who was incharge of it before me was an idiot. I don’t have time to take a lunch break this week.”

“But Nate gave me his card to buy your dress with.” I knew I would regret what I was about to say but I didn’t have another option.

“If I tell you what size I wear, can you just get me something?”

“Absolutely!”

“Thank you. As much fun as I think shopping with you would be, I just can’t leave right now.”

“I get it. Send me a text with your sizes and I’ll find you the perfect dress.”

“Because my brain is a mess right now, I wasn’t supposed to babysit on Friday right?”

“No, my parents are in town this week. They are watching the kids. There is no way you are getting out of this event.” A part of me was hoping that I would have that as an excuse to not go but with that option gone I started to mentally prepare myself for Friday night.

***

“Thank you for letting me get ready here.” I said to Nate as he let me into his house. “And thank you for letting me crash here tonight.”

“Of course, it makes more sense this way. I also have your dress, Mel wouldn’t let me look at it when she dropped it off on Tuesday. I figured you can use my room to get ready, it has more counter space for whatever you need.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bedroom and bathroom.”

“It’s not kicking me out when I volunteer to use the guest room. C’mon, let me carry your bag.”

“How long until we need to leave?”

“I have an Uber scheduled for 75 minutes from now.” I nod, knowing that I could make that work without having to rush too much. Once Nate headed into the guest room I started to unpack what I would need for now. Grabbing a towel before going to figure out the shower, which was far more high tech than anything I had ever seen in a shower before. I wrapped the towel around myself and went to find Nate. “Nate?! How do I work your futuristic shower?” I only stuck my head out in the hall to yell and luckily he heard me from the guest room he was in. A few seconds later he came out in only a loose pair of shorts, laughing at me. “Don’t laugh at me, your shower has a computer screen!” I opened the bedroom door so he could come in, watching his eyes widen when I saw I was only wearing a towel. As he came in to turn the shower on for me I took the time to look over him. When he turned to show me how to change the temperature and turn it off I knew he caught me checking him out. Nate was such a beautiful person, inside and out. I knew that fake dating Nate had the potential for my true feelings to come out and I was trying to convince myself that this wouldn’t end with the death of our friendship.

“Need anything else?”

“Nope.”

Nate’s pov

It took every ounce of willpower to not kiss Ruth when I saw her standing in my bedroom in just a towel, and then when I caught her checking me out I was really tempted to tell her the truth. I knew that this fake dating would just cause more pain for me but there was nothing I could do about that now. I took a colder shower than I had originally been planning to take but after that was done I got my suit on, just a dark grey suit so that hopefully I wouldn’t clash with whatever Ruth was wearing.

Just as I finished getting my shoes on there was a knock on my door. I opened it and was immediately speechless. The deep green dress looked amazing on her and I am pretty sure that my jaw was on the floor. As she moved in the dress I saw the large slit on the one side that showed a lot of her leg. “Can you zip my dress?”

“Y-yeah.” Ruth turned so her back was to me, pulling her hair to the side so I could tug up the zipper before whispering. “Perfect.”

“I should be ready in just a few minutes.”

“Yeah, I just need to come grab a tie. I wanted to wait until I saw what color your dress was.” Ruth nodded as we both heard into my bedroom, I headed straight for my closet and by the time I came out with my tie on Ruth was standing at the end of my bed smiling. “You look amazing.”

“You do too.” I walked over to Ruth, both of us looking at our reflection in the mirror. “We make a good looking couple.”

“I don’t think I can do this.” I froze after those words came out of my mouth, Ruth looking at me with wide eyes.

“O-okay, um, I’ll go grab my stuff and get out of your hair.” Ruth went to turn and walk away from me, but I gently turned her around so I could tell her the truth.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” I cupped Ruth’s cheek, locking eyes with her. “I have had feelings for you for so long. Probably since a month after I met you but I was scared to tell you. And then we became friends and I didn’t want to make things weird, so I kept it a secret. But I also fell for you more as we became closer friends. So I think a part of me decided to say I was dating someone because I want to be dating you. For real.” Ruth didn’t say anything, just took a step closer and pressed her lips to mine. “I, what just happened?”

“Everything you just told me, I feel the same way.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now kiss me for real.” That I could do, I kissed Ruth like I had wanted to do for years. We only stopped kissing when a car horn sounded in my driveway. “I think I need to fix my lipstick.”

“I would say sorry but I’m not. I’ll go to the car if you want to fix your lipstick.” Ruth nodded, stepping back while smiling at me. “Just so you know, this isn’t our first date. I will be planning that for next week and it is going to knock your socks off.”

“As long as you are there, I can’t wait.” I kissed Ruth one more time before healing downstairs to tell the driver we were almost ready. I also couldn’t keep the smile off of my face, I couldn’t believe what started out as a panicked lie turned into a chance to date my best friend for real.

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spencer-reid-in-a-pool · 4 years

Text

Guest Speaker

Anon requested: Hi! I saw that your requests are open, so this is oddly specific but, could I get a Reid x reader where she’s a cheerleader kinda prom queen stereotype but she’s like really smart and majoring in criminology (maybe that’s how they meet?) and he’s sorta insecure about dating her, maybe it could be a bit smutty? If not it’s totally cool, thank you sooo much.

Author’s note: First off, I would like to apologize to you anon. I took a rather long hiatus without really planning to due to some personal stuff, so I’m really sorry for that. I hope you still follow me, I hope you see this, and I hope above all else that you like it. Also, I should mention I didn’t add any smut because I didn’t feel like it fit the story. But, if you would like, I could do a smutty part 2! Just let me know.

Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reader’s POV:

Could this class be any more boring? Sure, criminology is my favorite subject. But this professor looked like he had one foot in the grave, with the voice to match. Talk about naptime.

I put my pen down in exasperation and decided that picking at my nail polish was a better way to spend my time.

“Psst,” a voice hissed next to me.

I popped my gum as I looked up at the source of the voice. It was Naomi, my best friend.

“Girl, I didn’t even notice you next to me!”

“I know,” she whispered, trying not to laugh. “You were too enamored with your polish flaking off. Sometimes I wonder how you’re top of the class.”

I stifled a laugh.

“I wonder the same thing sometimes, Naomi. Hey, I think I might dip a little early. What do you think about coming with me?”

No answer. I waited to see if she would respond, but she never did. Glancing up, I saw her staring towards the podium. There was no way she was looking at Dr. Daniels. I followed her gaze and about swallowed my gum in surprise.

Dr. Daniels was up there, but next to him was someone I had never seen before. Quite unfortunate, if I do say so myself, because he had to be the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

I whispered to Naomi out of the corner of my mouth, not breaking my gaze towards the man, “Who… is that?”

“I think Daniels said he works at the FBI. A guest speaker, I guess. Dr. Spencer Reid.”

She hadn’t stopped staring either.

I rested my head in my hands and sighed.

“He doesn’t look much older than us, Nay.”

She tilted her head and blinked slowly, “May the best woman win.”

——————————–

“Alright, so that brings me to the end of my presentation. I have to get back to Quantico soon, but uh- I’ll stick around for some questions if anyone has any.”

Dr. Spencer Reid had to be the most beautiful, awkward, brilliant man I had ever seen.

I glanced around the room as I packed my things. Not many people went up to ask questions. A few did, but only briefly. Their loss.

Naomi nudged me with her elbow. “Gonna ask him a question?”

I took a deep breath, “I don’t think any of my questions have anything to do with criminology.”

Naomi laughed and shouldered her bag. “I’ve gotta get to my next class.”

She began walking down the steps to leave the room, but turned to me at the last second.

She began pointing at him while his back was turned and mouthed the words, “Get his number for me.”

As luck would have it, he turned around and noticed Naomi gesturing towards him. He looked at her and then up to me. A nervous smile graced his lips as he turned back around to pack his things.

I widened my eyes at Naomi and she raised her hands in defeat with a huge grin on her face.

Once she left, only Dr. Reid and I remained. I started my walk up to the podium, trying to come up with any questions that actually related to his presentation. As I slowed down near him, I prayed he couldn’t hear my heart ripping a hole in my chest.

“Um, Dr. Reid.”

He lifted his head and looked towards me, pausing mid-action. His hands were large compared to the papers he was putting in his bag.

“What can I do for you?”

I shifted my weight around, trying to get comfortable. It didn’t work.

“I was just wondering- um, does the FBI take interns? It’s been a dream of mine to work for the FBI.”

He turned all the way towards me and narrowed his eyes slightly. Was he judging me or something?

“Yeah, actually we do. There’s tons of programs you can check out. What’s your major?”

“Criminology,” I said softly.

“Oh wow, really? I would’ve thought maybe it would have been… something else.”

He glanced at my bag where my pom poms were sticking out.

“Ah, yeah because I’m a cheerleader?”

“Uh, no no, that’s not what I meant- I just-”

I shook my head with a small smile. “No, don’t worry about it. I get it a lot. Cheerleading is just a hobby. I’m actually top of the class.”

Dr. Reid raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s very impressive! I was top of my class in- well, every class,” he said, laughing quietly.

“I don’t doubt it, but you don’t look much older than us. Are you that much of a genius you skipped so many grades?”

He grabbed his bag and shrugged it on. “I do have an IQ of 187. I’m not sure if that’s what you were looking for.”

He smiled shyly at me. I was confident there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

“Wow. Well, that’s really impressive, too.”

I paused for a second, hoping he didn’t notice my burning red ears.

“Well, um, Dr. Reid, I don’t wanna hold you up. I’m sure you have way more important things to be doing than talking to me.”

He looked down at his feet and shifted his bag.

“Talking to you was important. Here,” he dug in his bag as he spoke, “Take my card. I’ll um- check up on those intern programs for you. Call me- I mean call my office in a few days. I’ll have something for you.”

He handed me his card abruptly. I took it with slightly shaking fingers. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that either.

“I have to go, but it was nice talking to you. Hope to see you in Quantico some day,” he said as he smiled.

I stood stone still in my spot, still holding his card as if he had just handed it to me. I only broke out of my trance when he cleared his throat at the door as he was leaving.

“You shouldn’t pick your nail polish off. That color looks good on you.”

And then he was gone.

—————————————-

As I walked out of class, I couldn’t seem to make my heart stop fluttering. Dr. Reid wouldn’t flirt with me- right? No way. He was just complimenting me.

Naomi could tell something was up when I got to cheerleading practice. I didn’t want to tell her though; she’d never let me hear the end of it.

“You’re late! What’s up, (Y/N)? Did something happen?”

I shook my head. “Nothing happened, just took the scenic route!”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Spill. What happened?”

I sighed. I should’ve known she’d start in on me immediately. Guess I’ll save myself the trouble and just tell her now.

“I talked to Dr. Reid and he gave me his card. And…he said I shouldn’t pick at my nail polish because the color looks good on me.”

Naomi’s jaw dropped. “Show me. Card. Now.”

I dug in my pocket and handed her the card. She snatched it from my fingers that still felt tingly.

“Oh my God! What did you say to him to make him give you that?”

I grabbed the card back from her. “I said I was interested in an FBI internship.”

She scoffed. “Well, I don’t know about an internship but you gotta get laid. Call him. And use protection,” she finished, winking at me.

I rolled my eyes and followed Naomi to the sideline before coach started yelling at us.

————————————–

A few days had passed since I talked to Dr. Reid. I didn’t know what to do. Should I really call him or just forget that interaction ever happened?

I tried pushing the thought of him from my mind to focus on tonight. It was Friday night, which meant football. Not just football, but the rival team was playing us tonight. It was a huge game and tons of people are coming. I had to make sure I didn’t fuck anything up.

My makeup was done and my uniform was on, so I made my way to the field.

I was early of course, but there were already herds of people trying to get in. Young and old, students and non-students. Everyone was here. I felt the familiar rush of excitement I get before performing. There was nothing else like it in the world.

Tonight was gonna be a night to remember.

———————————–

Narrator’s POV:

“Tell me why we’re here again?” Derek asked in confusion.

Spencer scratched his head. He was no good at these kinds of things.

“Well, I was really young in college. I- I never got the full college experience as an adult.” He tried not to cringe at his own words.

Derek glaced at Garcia. She shrugged and turned to JJ.

“I’m gonna go grab a hot dog. Wanna come with?”

JJ nodded. “Of course! Want anything boys?”

Spencer shook his head and Derek asked for a drink. The two women walked off.

“Well let’s go find seats then, Pretty Boy.”

Derek took Spencer through the crowd; it wasn’t hard to see he had no clue what was going on.

They found an empty corner in the bottom row of the bleachers. Spencer hesitated as Derek sat down.

“You gonna stand there all night, kid?”

He glanced around before his eyes settled on Derek.

“Do you know how many germs there are on these things?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You wanted the full college experience. Here it is.”

Spencer groaned internally before sitting down.

“So tell me,” the bigger man said as he leaned forward, “Which one are you here for?” Derek gestured to the cheerleaders lining up on the field.

Spencer shifted in his seat and cut a sideways glance at Derek. “What makes you think I wanted to watch the cheerleaders?”

Derek laughed. “Kid, I might not be a genius like you, but I am a profiler. And I can tell when someone is crushing. You’ve been looking around here for something. My guess is, you saw a pretty girl at your guest lecture the other day and wanna see more of her.”

Spencer began to protest but sank back down in defeat. He looked around at the girls, trying to find the one he came for. After what seemed like forever, he found her.

“That one,” he pointed out, “in the very front with the (your hair color) hair.”

Derek looked at you as you began calling out to the other girls, leading them in a cheer.

“My man,” Derek said as he clapped Spencer on the back with a smile. “You better get to talking to her soon, or I may have to work my magic.”

Spencer sighed, “Go ahead. It’s not like she would like me anyway.”

“What makes you say that, kid?”

“Well, it’s just- I’ve never had much luck with those types of girls. Remember a few years ago with JJ?” Spencer said quietly while looking at his hands.

“That was back then, man. Look at you now! I bet she’d be into you.”

Spencer tried not to smile. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Derek said, patting Spencer’s back once again.

Spencer smiled to himself. He felt a little better about everything.

“What’s her name?”

Spencer looked at Derek and paused. “I- I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

JJ and Garcia appeared then, hands full of snacks and drinks.

Derek leaned back as the girls sat down behind them.

“He’s here for a girl,”

JJ groaned and set her food down. Garcia smirked and held out her hand expectantly. After a second of digging in her pocket, JJ pulled out some money and slapped it into Garcia’s hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said as she put the money into her bag.

“Y- you guys took a bet?” Spencer asked in shock.

“All’s fair in love and war, dear doctor.”

“Garcia that doesn’t even- never mind,” Spencer said, shaking his head. He turned his head back to the field.

You were at the top of the formation now, standing on one foot while holding your other leg in the air with one hand, being held up by all the girls underneath you. It took Spencer’s breath away. You were so beautiful.

“OOH, she’s flexible!” Garcia grunted out past mouthfuls of hotdog.

Spencer ignored the comment and continued watching. He didn’t expect you to watch him, though.

You had found him in the crowd and made eye contact for a second. He raised his hand to begin waving, but stopped when he saw the color leave your face.

“Hey, woah- is she okay? She’s wobbling a little,” Derek said, shifting forward like he was going to stand up.

“She looks like she’s gonna-” JJ started. She didn’t get to finish. The group watched in horror as you went limp and fell from the top of the formation.

—————————————-

Reader’s POV:

I loved being up here. There was no other feeling like it, especially when I got to call out the cheers tonight.

We were nearing the end of this cheer, so I held out this position as long as I could, smiling at everyone in the crowd, making eye contact with as many as possible. I wasn’t expecting to make eye contact with Dr. Reid.

What was he doing here?!

I felt my leg begin to wobble, but still held my position. My heart was pounding and I suddenly felt very cold.

“Hey,” one of the girls below me hissed, “You okay?”

“I-” I managed to whisper, “I don’t feel so good…”

I don’t remember falling, so I was a little shocked when I came to, laying on my back. The rest of the squad circled around me, panicked looks on their faces.

“Hey, it’s okay. Stay down there. The AT is coming over to talk to you,” Naomi said, patting my shoulder.

I groaned and tried sitting up, but she pushed me back down. “That’s not a good idea. You just passed out.”

My eyes fluttered shut as I tried to remember what happened.

“Ugh, how embarrassing. I’ve never fallen before.”

Naomi smiled sadly at me. “It happens to the best of us. But what happened? Why did you lose it?”

I rubbed my head and sat up slowly, much to the annoyance of Naomi and the AT.

“I just felt- sick all of a sudden. I don’t know,” I lied quietly.

The AT handed me a bottle of water. “Just nerves, baby. It’s a big game.”

I nodded as she helped me up. “Yeah. Just nerves.”

Naomi went back to the squad and told them I was okay. The AT sat me down on the sideline, leaning me against the fence. “Take a breather, hun. You’ll feel better by halftime.”

I gave her a smile as thanks, and took a sip of water.

A voice behind me called out, “Hey, are you okay?”

Dr. Reid stood on the other side of the fence with a bigger African-American man and two blonde girls, one wearing glasses and one without glasses.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine! It’s just a big game. A lot of nerves, you know?”

I stood up and faced them. “Are these your coworkers?”

“Oh uh, yeah, this is Derek, JJ, and Penelope,” Spencer said, gesturing to each of the people next to him in turn.

I gave them a small smile and a wave.

“So what are you doing here? FBI that boring that you have to come see a random college football game? Maybe I don’t want an internship,” I laughed out to them.

Derek laughed with me. “Nah, Pretty Boy didn’t come for the game-”

Dr. Reid punched him in the arm.

The two women, JJ and Penelope, laughed as Derek raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright!”

I smiled and shook my head, looking back out to the field.

“Hey, I never asked you the other day. What’s your name?”

I turned my attention back to Dr. Reid. The other three were no longer in sight.

“(Y/N). My name is (Y/N).”

“Well, nice to officially meet you, (Y/N).”

“So what are you really doing here, Dr. Reid? It doesn’t take a genius to see that you have no interest in football.”

I hopped the fence and stood next to him.

“Hey, be careful. You did just have a pretty big fall.”

I grinned, a burst of confidence erupting in my chest.

“Of course, Doctor.”

He leaned against the fence next to me and looked down to meet my gaze. “Call me Spencer.”

My heart fluttered a bit. He was totally into me.

“Okay. Spencer, then.”

He smiled back at me. “Would you maybe want to get a coffee with me sometime?”

I turned towards him, hoping he didn’t see just how much I was blushing.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

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angellesword · 3 years

Text

SAVE ME | KTH (09)

Summary: You were determined to kill yourself, but what would happen when instead of ending your life, you ended up summoning the devil of death?

Alternatively:

The Devil: I’m here to ruin you, I’m here to save you.

Genre: Demon au, e2l, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Devil!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: bullying (verbal and physical) blood, mention of demons’ power, death (heart attack)

SERIES: CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 10

*unedited*

*** i bet you’re not expecting this update!! ahhh i just want to finish this fic before my birthday!!! wish me luck bc i have less than a month to do so!

Your father was the person who taught you the meaning behind some Korean names.

It was some sort of bonding you two did when you were still a kid. The most memorable part was when your mother told you that she was pregnant, thus giving you the opportunity to choose a name for your baby brother.

Of course your father helped you decide. He told you different names and its meanings.

Jeongguk. This was what stuck to you the most. It meant center of the country. The moment you had heard about this, you instantly knew it was the perfect name for the unborn brother.

Jeongguk was meant to shine, to be the center, not just of the country, but of the whole world.

But you failed him.

You failed when there was a very short period of time where you were supposed to be making him the center of your attention.

And so now you reap the harvest of your failure.

Jeongguk was now the center of your life, the main reason why you were stressed out.

"Thanks for letting me know.” You clutched the phone near your ear tighter. "I'll be there soon." It took a lot of energy to say this, but you had to.

It had been months since Jeongguk started living in your apartment. You took him in despite his antipathy. Like hell you'd allow him to go back to his old house.

A house full of liars and users.

Jeongguk wasn't lying when he said your father died of heart attack. Your brother only told you about this weeks after the burial.

Everything had been taken care of. Your aunties, the siblings of your father, paid for all the expenses, but they were demanding to be reimbursed now.

Jeongguk also said that your aunties sold your father's house so now he had no choice but to live with them, but to do so, he first needed to pay for the amount of money they spent for your father’s burial.

Nothing was free. This was what they claimed. The money Jeongguk owed them had interest as well. Aside from this, your aunties also told Jeongguk that he had to pay for his share in rent and utilities monthly. If he couldn't do this, then he wouldn't be allowed to live with them.

Jeongguk begged your aunties to give him some time. It was obvious that he didn't have money, mainly because the siblings of your father took all of his assets.

Your brother felt helpless. He considered living on the streets, but then your aunties told him to go to you. You inherited a lot of money and rumor had it that you leeched off of your rich boyfriends for their wealth.

Jeongguk had been through a lot that was why you couldn't really blame him when did bad things—his way to destress.

"What did he do this time?" But Taehyung wasn't having any of it.

He already knew that Jeongguk got in trouble as soon as he spotted you looking for your car keys, face pale because of trepidation.

You were probably going to wherever the hell Jeongguk was. This had been your new routine ever since the younger boy moved in with you.

You had no idea how many times someone called you to inform that your brother was in trouble.

"The principal called. Jeongguk's in the disciplinary room.”

"Ah," the devil chuckled, bringing the magazine he was reading down on his lap. "Let me guess, catfight?"

"Don't call it that," you gritted your teeth. "This is serious, Tae. We need to go now.”

Although you couldn't say that Taehyung was entirely wrong. The principal explained that the reason why Jeongguk was brought to the disciplinary room was because he beat up his classmates.

You didn't have the chance to ask why since the only thing that was in your mind was your brother's safety.

You were certain you're going to lose your mind if you didn't seem him now.

Fortunately Taehyung realized that you weren't playing around so he did everything in his power to help you.

You couldn't deny that his presence was needed. You had seen his efforts to help you 'raise' Jeongguk.

He didn't look like the devil you knew. It was as though he turned into a person, someone who was simply looking after you because he cared.

Taehyung was no longer punishing you for trying to kill yourself back then, but maybe his reason was because you didn't really have the time to think about suicide now.

As stated, all you wanted to do was help your brother. You were trying to show him how sorry you were because he had to experience horrible things because of you.

It wasn't easy though. You felt like Jeongguk was going out of his way just to spite you. This was evident when you heard his response as to why he beat up two of his classmates.

"They're making fun of my satoori accent.”

You facepalmed. You couldn't believe he was capable of hurting people because of something like this. Jeongguk grew up in Busan and it had only been months since he transferred here in Seoul to study and live with you.

It was natural to still speak with satoori accent. Jeongguk should have just let it go and no—you were not siding with his enemy. They bullied your brother, but then Jeongguk's action was worse.

The two boys he beat up weren’t doing well. The blood on their faces said so. Your stomach was actually turning upside down just by looking at them.

You felt so bad.

But feeling bad wasn't enough.

You knew you had to face the consequence of Jeongguk's action.

No more running away.

"I'm sorry." Your lips trembled as you look at the parents of the victims.

Before they could speak, you already force Jeongguk to get on his knees.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jeongguk screamed at you, yet you ignored him.

You held Jeongguk down, still forcing him to bow down. You were doing the same thing. Your knees hurt, but it didn't matter.

"Apologize to them, Jeongguk." You whispered to your brother.

He was struggling to remove your hand that was placed on his shoulder, the same hand that was forcing him down.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Jeongguk was glaring at you.

This whole situation was like a slap in your face. You were forcing Jeongguk to do the things you didn't do when you hurt people in the past.

You could see yourself in him, but he didn't get the protection you had before.

Your mother tolerated your misconduct; you weren’t planning on doing the same.

"Apologize or you won't be getting your share." You whispered with force again.

Jeongguk's gaze darkened.

"You wouldn't dare."

"You very well know that I have the means to cut you off, Kookie." Your menacing tone was enough to send shiver down his spine.

You always got what you wanted. Jeongguk knew he would lose if he defied you.

It was better to say sorry to these dipshits rather than lose his share. He couldn't let you take away everything from him again.

So with his jaw still tensed, Jeongguk slowly turned to the parents of his enemies.

"I'm sorry." His heart was clenching as he said this. It was so difficult. "It's my fault so I'm willing to face the consequence of my action."

To face the consequence of my action. This was something you didn't get to do, yet you knew how painful it was to be the bigger person.

If you wanted, you could simply pay these people to let Jeongguk off the hook, but as stated, you wouldn't do that.

Jeongguk had the chance to be the person you should have been.

This was the right thing to do. The mistake must end with you.

"Don't think for a second that we'll forgive just because you apologized." One of the victim's parents glared at you. "You're a piece of shit. You are raising a monster!"

That was the last straw for Jeongguk. He was about to attack the parent, luckily Taehyung was able to stop him.

Your heartbeat doubled. You knew Jeongguk's action would drive them even madder, and so you bowed even lower, almost kissing the floor.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry!" You cried.

Taehyung came to know that you were just distracting the parents, so he did what he thought you wanted.

He dragged Jeongguk out of the room before he hurt anyone else.

"My brother and I won't run away. Please. We're sorry!" You crawled until you were just inches away from the parents.

You clasped your hands together, looking up.

Never in your entire life did you imagine doing this, but this was the least thing you could do for Jeongguk.

And so somewhere between sobs and the principal asking you to stand up, you managed to bargain with them. You were going to accept what they wanted, provided that they wouldn't be pressing legal charges against your brother.

They only agreed with this term because you didn't budge when they claimed they wanted Jeongguk to be expelled from this school. This was his punishment. Moreover, you had to pay for the medical expenses of the kids.

That was the end of discussion. You immediately ran out of the room to meet your brother and Taehyung, unfortunately you couldn't contact the both of them.

You didn't know, but Taehyung used his power to teleport him and Jeongguk to your apartment.

Taehyung didn't have much of a choice since the younger man kept on struggling to get away.

At least the action shut up Jeongguk for a short while.

"W-Wait!" To say that he was surprised to witness (and experience) Taehyung's teleportation ability would be an understatement.

Jeongguk was actually flabbergasted.

"I—we..." The younger boy's jaw drop, he blinked rapidly as he examined the place.

He wasn't tripping. He was definitely inside your apartment.

"How did this happen? W-What are you?" Jeongguk was panicking.

He liked to act tough; however he was still a boy. He couldn't fight someone like Taehyung, especially now that he had seen what this devil was capable of doing.

"Ah, it's simple." Taehyung flashed his boxy smile, completely unaware of the fear he was causing Jeongguk to feel.

"I'm the devil. I can do all kind of things—" he showed off more by levitating.

Jeongguk felt like he was going to pass out.

What the fuck.

But Taehyung was not done yet.

Still floating, Taehyung moved closer to your brother. The latter couldn't step backward since his back was already resting against the wall. Besides, he was too stunned to even move.

"—including this," without a warning, Taehyung touched the corner of Jeongguk's lips.

The seventeen year-old boy could only watch as the devil's hand sparkled.

Jeongguk felt strange at first, but then he could feel his bruise and scratches healing.

The two boys who bullied him still managed to throw some punches. It hurt and as seen, it bruised.

"There." Taehyung broke into a much bigger grin. "You look brand new."

Jeongguk touched his face. It didn't hurt anymore.

"A simple thank you would do." The devil's lips protruded into a pout when Jeongguk simply stared at him, saying nothing.

Minutes passed. Taehyung was actually done preparing hot cocoa for him and Jeongguk, yet the latter was still frozen on his spot.

"Why?"

Taehyung was expecting your brother to express his gratitude now that he mentioned how he wanted Jeongguk to say thank you, but your brother was exactly like you—always saying the wrong things.

"What do you mean why?" Taehyung handed the younger boy the cup of cocoa.

Jeongguk took it because he was freezing. It was cold outside and he couldn't deny that he was still a bit shaken after witnessing some bizarre...things.

"You said..." Jeongguk gulped. "You're the devil, so why did you heal me? Why are you helping me?"

Taehyung's brow shot up. Huh. His similarity to you was uncanny.

"That's your concern?" The devil shook his head, there was a smile on his lips. He thought Jeongguk was going to ask why he was lying, or why devils exist—things normal people asked.

"No, it's not," Jeongguk sighed, finally moving around. He paced back and forth after placing the hot cocoa on the table.

He scratched the back of his head as he stared straight into Taehyung eyes.

"I have a lot of concerns, okay!? I don't know why my sister's suddenly acting like she cares, I don't why I feel indifferent when I should be mourning the death of my father! I don't know how you managed to teleport! I'm—"

"Hey..." Taehyung touched the either side of Jeongguk's shoulders, forcing the younger to look at him.

"It's okay. You're okay..."

The devil figured that your brother was having a panic attack. He was probably so overwhelmed with everything that was happening. It didn't help that Taehyung surprised him by revealing his true identity.

Taehyung was such an idiot.

"I'm just so confused." Jeongguk managed to whisper. Tears filled his eyes.

Taehyung helped your brother sit on the couch. He was telling Jeongguk to breathe.

It took a while, but the younger boy managed to steady his breathing. Taehyung gave him more time to calm down before speaking again.

Both of them were sitting on the couch. Jeongguk was staring into the space while the devil was looking directly at your brother.

"I guess I really caught you off guard, huh?" Taehyung chuckled softly. He was carefully observing Jeongguk's expression.

"Were you telling the truth?" Your brother turned to look at Taehyung, which the latter didn't expect. He nodded nonetheless.

Taehyung was selfish. He said things just because. He never cared about what others would feel, but he learned fast. He realized that he shouldn't have revealed his identity just like that.

But he couldn't lie now, could he?

"It's true. I'm a devil." He smiled sheepishly. "The devil of death."

Jeongguk sucked in a breath. He tried to remember if he smoke pot today, but he didn't.

There were only two probable reasons why this was happening.

First: he was going crazy.

Second: Taehyung was telling the truth.

"You can ask your sister about me if you want. She knows."

Jeongguk sucked in a breath once more.

"If you're telling the truth...then...why..." He didn't know if he could question the devil.

Jeongguk was scared of his answer.

"Why did I heal you when I'm supposed to destroy you?" And so Taehyung completed the younger boy's question.

Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek, nodding.

"It's a long story so I'm just going to tell you one thing.”

For some reason your brother nodded. He was captivated by the devil too. The same feeling you experienced when you first met Taehyung.

"Everything changes, Jeongguk." The devil uttered seriously. "Be it because of a person, experience, or even thing."

Taehyung laughed when he pointed at himself.

"Just look at me. Who would have thought that the devil of death would end up healing a mere mortal like you?"

Temporary, permanently, good change, bad change.

At the end of the day, it was still a change. This change would still affect something that could last forever.

"So yeah," Taehyung clasped his hand together. "I know it's ironic for me to say this, but there's goodness in every person. The one who hurt you before is probably out there, doing everything they can to help you."

Jeongguk knew exactly what Taehyung was talking about. He wasn't really being subtle about it. He used they, yet he was referring to you.

"I'll take that in mind," this was all your brother could say before retreating to his temporary bedroom.

Moments later, you arrived.

"Whoa.” The devil grimaced upon seeing your face.

You looked awful. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were bloody red. You were also shaking. It was cold outside.

"I-Is Jeongguk here? Is he safe? Did you treat his wounds? Do we need to bring him to the hospital—"

"Calm down, Barbie." Taehyung laughed, taking your cold hands to warm them up.

"Your brother is fine," he brought your hands closer to his lips, blowing hot air on them. "I may or may have knocked some senses into him."

You weren't sure about that. Jeongguk was a tough cookie. He had a rough childhood because of you.

"You didn't coerce him, did you?" You crinkled your eyes and Taehyung gasped dramatically.

"What do you take me for?" He tightened his hold on your hands. "I don't do what is not needed, you know?"

"Right." He was clearly talking about what he had to do back when you met Cha Eun Hye at the hospital.

"Jeongguk is sleeping now. I treated his wounds. Don't worry," he winked, though he didn't tell you that he used his power to heal your brother.

He didn't want you to freak out, especially because you seemed...tired.

"Thank you." You sincerely said.

You couldn't imagine this day without Taehyung by your side.

"No worries." The devil licked his bottom lip; his soft eyes made you feel like you were floating in the air.

You had never seen him this calm. The aura surrounding him felt refreshing.

He was still holding your hands.

"—you know I'll do anything for you," Tae continued and suddenly, you no longer felt like you were flying. Right now, you felt as if your heart was sinking deeper and deeper that you thought it was better to just let go and get lost in the abyss of his golden eyes.

You knew he was only saying this because your lives were connected, but the past months didn't feel like an act.

It felt real—like his intention wasn't a selfish act.

You realized that it didn't matter, not when you wanted to be selfish too. Today, you wanted to indulge on his warmth, to the comfort he gave.

And so you embraced him.

The devil didn't hesitate.

He hugged you back.

#ficswithluv #kim taehyung #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung roommate au #taehyung roommate #devil taehyung #demon taehyung #taehyung devil au #taehyung demon au #taehyung fantasy au #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #taehyung x oc #angel jimin

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askaceattorney · 3 years

Photo

Dear Asexual-Deesasters,

Mod Edgeworth:

If you want to know the answer to that question, go to this link.

Dear Skibot99,

Co-Mod: I’m fairly certain it was The Mod, but I don’t know for sure. He actually had another one before it, made from an old Ace Attorney musical animation. I haven’t been able to locate that video, unfortunately, but here’s the old banner:

Ah... Those were good days. Good days.

Dear Dawsongfg,

Co-Mod: It’s fine. Besides, it won’t be too long before those letters are accepted, so maybe we’ll hold onto them until that time.

Dear skibot99 again,

Mod Edgeworth: The Lost Turnabout hands down. All logic is thrown out the window the moment Phoenix had amnesia. It’s clear the Judge knew something was wrong with Phoenix, so why didn’t he call for a recess or check on Phoenix? Not to mention Wellington was annoying. He’s probably the only character I would be hesitant to play as when answering letters, if only because he was so unbearable.

As for Turnabout Ablaze, I do agree that it is a drag to get through in the end, though the entire game of AAI was boring, aside from the game mechanics. As a case by itself, I wouldn’t put it as my least favorite, if only because I did get some funny parts out of it. It also contributed to the overall story, whereas The Lost Turnabout could just be taken out and it wouldn’t effect the overarching plot.

Co-Mod: I’d probably have to go with Turnabout Big Top. I honestly couldn’t figure out the part where you have to present Max’s poster without consulting a walkthrough. Why couldn’t we just present Max himself? Besides that, the ending was largely underwhelming -- the murder weapon was hidden under Acro’s blanket the entire time, but instead of seeing a screenshot of it there, we just have to imagine it. Maybe it was a filler case, but that was no excuse for it to end so poorly. Not to mention one of the witnesses was a literal puppet.

It’s hard truth, Trilo. Live with it.

Dear skibot99 and Anonymous,

Mod Edgeworth: I… think I heard from her when the localization of DGS was announced? I know Mod Kristoph and Mod Maya introduced themselves when I came into the group. There’s a third person, but I only heard from her once. As for what’s going on with her… I don’t know.

As for the flooding the inbox, it’s fine. I won’t promise a letter or two won’t be deleted, but we may make an exception and I’d hardly consider 4-5 different letters flooding the inbox. However, I do highly suggest lowering your letter sending to no more than three a day to prevent deletion of your letters. The only time I’d say your letters are flooding the inbox is when you’re sending 10-20 of them, especially of the same letter, and we have to scroll down for a while to get to the next letter. We will only choose three out of that pile and delete the rest.

And yes, we do have a few that send us 10-20 of the same letter to multiple characters in the span of five minutes. Geez.

Co-Mod: Mod Paups has had to remain absent for personal reasons, and sadly, has recently communicated to me that she wishes to leave the blog entirely. Thanks for all you’ve contributed to this blog, Mod Paups, and best of luck in whatever you do next!

(Referenced Letter)

Dear mungeondaster,

Mod Edgeworth: Since I answered this one, I shall answer your letter.

(^ Why do I always use this sprite? ^) Actually, the localization never specified if Manfred Von Karma was born in Germany or not. In fact, we never knew the German part until Justice For All when Franziska Von Karma was stated to have flown all the way from Germany. It never specifies any reason for this and fans were quick to jump to the conclusion that it means the Von Karma family were German, which… isn’t entirely true? Manfred Von Karma never said he lived in Germany and, for all we know, Franziska could’ve lived in Germany to study law or something.

Now, the OG does give us more specific detail on this, being why I answered this the way I did. In the OG, both Von Karma’s were born Japanese, but lived in America or at least have an estate there. It specified that they were originally born in Japan, which would be translated to LA, California in the localization. While using the OG canon isn’t normal here, I will use it, if the localization doesn’t specify things. In this case, it never specified if the Von Karma’s were born in Germany or if Manfred Von Karma lived in America. Since he had to wait out the Statue of Limitations for DL-6, we can assume he lived in LA for 15 years or more. That means he’s American.

I am still getting the hang of writing letters, but I try to stick to canon as much as possible. If you believe we’ve made an error in our letters, feel free to let us know, but also show proof, if we go against canon. We’ll be sure the letter is sent to the right mod or else fix it.

Dear Bluedragoncody,

Mod Edgeworth: I... don’t know how to feel about that.

Also, I accidentally deleted your previous letter before this one when trying to post it on here. I’m so sorry about that. If you could remember it, would you send it again?

Co-Mod: I’ll just respond to this with an old classic:

Dear Aceattorneyismyjam,

Mod Edgeworth: I-I’m not a pro! I accidentally deleted an important mod question from bluedragoncody, because of my inexperience. Oof! Again, so sorry!

Granted, I am good with digital art and writing essays, but I’m still trying to get the hang of being a mod here. Believe me, I do get corrected on several mistakes I do here. I can’t really call myself a pro just yet. I’ve only just started becoming a mod here last month lol

Dear Dahlia,

Mod Edgeworth: I thank you for your support of this blog and my essay. Manfred Von Karma is also my favorite villain and someone I do feel is underestimated as a one dimensional villain. I think people hate him so much, because of how he ruined Miles Edgeworth’s life without looking at the bigger picture. They focus on the bad things with their black colored glasses without dissecting Manfred Von Karma’s character as a whole.

One thing I love about this blog, even before becoming a mod, is that no one here ever portrayed Manfred Von Karma as the one dimensional villain. He can be snappy at times, but as proven in many of our previous letters, he’s also portrayed as being calm when threatened, polite at times and absolutely loves his wife and children. Yes, he’s a terrible person, but that’s what makes him so interesting. He’s a bad, evil person that does good things from time to time. It doesn’t justify any of his horrible deeds, murder included, but it does make him human.

Co-Mod: I’m...going to assume you’re a different Dahlia. (I’m grabbing a Magatama of Parting just in case, though. I’m sure you can understand.)

Anyway, thanks for being such a loyal follower! This blog’s been through a lot of changes since it began, and since I joined it back in 2017, so I’m glad it’s still a good source of enjoyment for you. I’ve seen all sorts of cringe by now, by the way (some of which I wrote myself), so don’t worry about it.

I’m also glad that the characters still sound like themselves and not like us. The hilarious personalities and quirks given to them by Capcom’s writers, as well as the humanity in so many of them, make them easy to relate to, and thus fairly easy to mimic. I may have said something like this before, but I see myself in a lot of them -- in Athena’s fear of inadequacy, in Apollo’s desire for justice in a world where it’s hard to find, in Sebastian’s confusion about where to go next after his world falls apart, and possibly even in the von Karmas’ desire for perfection. I of course identify with their positive feelings as well -- Phoenix’s smugness when he gets things right, Athena’s joy after pulling off a victory in court, Adrian’s pride after her self-confidence is restored, etc. -- but there’s something about the struggles they face that make them easier to relate to, on top of being that much more awesome in the end.

Unfortunately, I can’t promise anything about this blog continuing on in perpetuity. For one thing, I don’t plan on being around forever (I’m fairly certain the other Mods don’t, either), and for that matter, there’s also no telling how long Tumblr will be around. All I can promise is that I’ll give my best while I’m here, and that the love from you and everyone else who shares it here is sure to be what keeps us going. Thank you for your contribution!

Dear TurqouiseJavelin,

Mod Edgeworth: Hm... not bad ideas. Though, we mods choose our own mod names under the condition that it doesn’t match anyone else’s mod name.

Co-Mod: What Mod Edgeworth said. Choosing the name “Mod Athena” may or may not increase your chances of being hired, though. *wink, wink*

Dear Anonymous,

Mod Edgeworth: Actually, Gregory was stated in the Autopsy to have died by a gunshot. However, you do bring up something interesting. If Gregory Edgeworth realized he was dead and last remembered Robert Hammond strangling him, he wouldn’t think “I died by the shot of a gun.” Since the Detectives weren’t aware that victim had died unconscious, they’d assume the victim would recall being shot and killed. This makes me wonder if Gregory Edgeworth was channeled, but never brought to court to be cross-examined.

There are still holes, but I do like your aspect on DL-6.

Co-Mod: Dang... No matter how many times you come back to this game, there’s always something new to think about. I honestly hadn’t considered those details about Yanni Yogi’s trial. Your explanation makes the most sense to me, but there’s one other possibility regarding Gregory’s testimony -- he may have chosen to lie about who murdered him in order to protect his son from a murder charge. That’s all open to interpretation, of course, so your guess is as good as ours.

It’s a good thing we’re not actual defense attorneys, huh?

-The Mods

#asexual deesasters #skibot99 #dawsongfg #mungeondaster #bluedragoncody #aceattorneyismyjam #young and vain #Anonymous #Mod Post #Mod Edgeworth #Co Mod

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subarublue · 3 years

Text

Mornings Are the Best Series - Part 2

Series Description: You’ve always been a morning person. The quiet as the sun rises, the coolness of the crisp morning air, the smell of coffee brewing; it’s always been your favorite time of day.

Dante however, is not a morning person. But being with you might just be enough to change his mind.

One Shot

Title: Pizza for Breakfast

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Timeline: Not specified

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Dante x Female Reader

Word Count: 3475

Read on Ao3

Summary: Lady says it’s ridiculous that Dante would even eat pizza for breakfast. Unfortunately for her, there’s someone who likes spoiling your boyfriend a little too much: You.

Notes: My local fuel station makes a really good breakfast pizza and I was having a slice the other day and thought, “Dante would totally appreciate this kind of thing.” Thus this was born.

You stood in the kitchen, admiring the breakfast you’d just finished putting together, proudly.

Dante’s gonna love this! you thought with excitement. You’d never made one before, but you had always wanted to try it out. You’d decided after some searching, to not use a recipe and try just winging it yourself. So far, it looked as though everything would turn out perfect. Now you just had to bake it.

Figuring you could clean up the mess you made in the kitchen while it was baking, you popped it in the oven and set a timer. As you started on cleaning up, you wondered idly if you should have waited until a bit later to make it. It wasn’t even quite nine o’clock yet and you were sure Dante was still asleep.

He hadn’t had a job last night, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t stayed up late. He was more of a night owl, after all. Considering devils and demons tended to show up more often at night, it stood to reason. You had been in bed and were well and fast asleep whenever he’d decided to join you, so you figured he would probably try and sleep in late.

Which was a problem today, actually. He may not have had a job last night, but he had one this morning; one that Lady of all people had hired him for help on and you knew she wouldn’t take kindly to him not being ready when she showed up. That’s why you’d decided to try making this breakfast this morning. You were hoping it would help to coax Dante out of bed early enough that Lady wouldn’t want to shoot him first thing.

I guess we’ll see how that goes.

You had just finished cleaning up and noted that there was some time left, so you decided you should try and wake up your sleeping devil. You double checked on the breakfast in the oven and seeing that it was coming along nicely, made your way to the front of the shop to head upstairs.

You had barely taken that first step up the staircase when the front door swung open suddenly and Lady strode into the building. She took one look at Dante’s desk, then noticed you on the stairs. She gave an exasperated huff. “Let me guess…still asleep?”

“I was just about to go and try to wake him up, actually.” You stepped down off the stairs to face her properly as you talked.

“Well good luck with that. If you need it, I’ll gladly help out.” The shameless grin on her face told you exactly what she planned to do to ‘help out’ and you couldn’t help but let out small laugh at Dante’s unknown expense.

“I think I’ve got this. I’d rather not spend the day trying to get all the blood out of the sheets.”

“Understandable. Just know that I won’t wait long for his lazy ass to get up. We’ve got a job to do.” Lady was smirking, a promise of pain to come if Dante made her wait too long.

“Oh, don’t worry. If all else fails, I’m sure offering him some pizza will get him out of bed.”

Lady’s smirk fell and she rolled her eyes at that. “Seriously?”

“Hey, if it works, it works. You want him up, don’t you?” You simply shrugged. Dante’s eating habits weren’t exactly healthy, but you figured his half-devil metabolism more than made up for it.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just ridiculous that that idiot would even eat pizza for breakfast. I can’t believe you actually let him.”

“I’m his girlfriend, not his mother,” you replied simply, “And while I admit he doesn’t always act like it, he is a grown man. He can make his own decisions.”

“That idiot better know how lucky he is to have you.” Her comment had you both laughing a bit now.

“I’ll go see if I can get him out of bed at least. Can’t guarantee how awake he’ll be, but I’ve got something that should fix that if it’s a problem.”

You made your way upstairs then, leaving Lady to wait at Dante’s desk. Shouldering the bedroom door open when you reached it, you smiled fondly at the huge lump in the bed in your shared room. The only indication that it was your boyfriend in that bed was the silver mop of hair peeking out from the top of the sheets.

You took a seat on the edge of the mattress and decided to see if waking him gently would work first. If not, you’d work your way up from there. You pulled the covers down away from his face and were met with no reaction; not that you’d expected any from just that. It did give you a good look at his sleeping face though, which you took a short moment to admire.

His hair was a bit mussed from sleep and any hard lines on his face were softened in his relaxed state. He was snoring softly, unaware that you were sitting right next to him. Which was actually weird because you figured for someone who was half-devil and had incredibly heightened senses, it would be easy for him to feel you there right next to him, asleep or not.

But Dante definitely loved his sleep, so maybe that was why. You were certain that nothing short of a serious emergency could wake the man you loved easily, so you set about getting started, hoping this didn’t take too long. You’d hate for him to eat lead instead of the special breakfast you’d made him.

“Dante? Hey, Dante? Come on, it’s time to wake up, babe,” you called gently as you rocked his shoulder a bit. He groaned a little, but made no other indication that what you’d done had any effect on his slumbering state.

You’d hoped this would be easy. After all, he knew about this job even before yesterday, so he should have been prepared for it, but no. This was Dante after all and he was the king of ‘winging it.’

You decided you needed to get a bit more forceful with him, so you sat up on your knees on the mattress. Using your whole body weight and steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulder, you bounced up and down on the mattress. That got a reaction.

Immediately he groaned again and his hand shot out, grabbing you by the waist to stop the incessant bouncing that was disturbing his sleep. You’d thought you had him at that, but as soon as it was clear you’d stopped, his hand simply dropped and he hadn’t even opened his eyes at all.

You gave an indignant huff at that and immediately started rocking his shoulder repeatedly while you let out a loud whine. “Dante! It’s time to get up! If you don’t, I’m gonna stop being nice about it!”

This time the reaction you got was verbal. “You call this bein’ nice?” His voice was slurred, a bit heavy with sleep, and even muffled slightly by the pillow his head was currently half-buried in, but you heard him nonetheless and huffed again.

“You don’t want to see me not being nice.” Your menacing comment was overshadowed by your playful tone, but it at least got him to peek one eye open to look at you sleepily. It didn’t last long, though.

“Just five more minutes, babe.” And with that his eyes were closed again and he stuffed his face straight down into his pillow.

Seriously, how could he breathe like that?

“You know I would love to let you sleep for five more minutes, but Lady’s already downstairs waiting on you and I’m sure she’s pretty trigger-happy right now,” you warned.

You barely heard his reply as it was completely muffled by his pillow. It sounded a lot like an exasperated, “Oh, duck,” but you were one hundred percent certain that was not what he’d said. Still, it had you giggling. At least he was coherent enough to know that if he didn’t get up there would be trouble. That was promising.

“Come on, babe! Don’t blame me when she comes up here shooting up a storm.” You tried to shake him fully awake by shoving his shoulder roughly, but considering how much bigger he was than you, he barely budged. He did turn his head to the side so his face wasn’t stuffed into his pillow anymore and his eyes were open now, at least. He was still pretty bleary-eyed and you couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked right now.

“You mean you won’t protect me from her?” He was trying to give you the puppy dog eyes now, and while that usually worked miracles for him, you weren’t having it this time.

“Sorry, baby. You’re much better at taking bullets than I am.” You laughed as he groaned and rolled his eyes, full well knowing what Lady would do if she got impatient enough, but still not caring as he just took his pillow and covered his head as if it would block out the rest of the world without fail.

You finally decided it was time to play your trump card. Nothing else had worked so far and you didn’t want to wait and see how long it would take for Lady to get that impatient.

“Besides,” you said as you leaned over him to lift his pillow up a bit so he could hear you better (not that he couldn’t hear you regardless). Your voice took on a singsong rhythm at your next statement, “~I’ve got a surprise in the oven for you.~”

He peeked out from under his pillow at you, his curiosity peeked. “Oven? You baked something?”

“Yup! And I’ll give you a clue what it is: It’s one of your absolute favorite foods!”

He immediately perked up at that. There was a brief pause in which you could see the gears turning in his head, probably trying to decipher in his sleepy haze if it was pizza or a strawberry sundae, until he finally likely settled on pizza because why would you put ice cream in an oven?

“Oh, hell yeah!” He practically jumped out of bed in his enthusiasm and you had to dodge out of the way since he almost bowled you over. He paused halfway to the bathroom, seemingly remembering you were still there and backtracked over to you giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re the best, sweetheart!” Then he was gone again and before you knew it the bathroom door was shut and he was yelling through it, “I’ll be down in a minute!”

You giggled at his antics and decided to make your way downstairs, so you could pull his breakfast out of the oven before it burned…and before Lady got tired of waiting. You saw her at the base of the staircase as you left the room and headed down. Clearly you’d gotten him out of bed just in time.

“I take it he’s finally up?” Lady was eyeing you hopefully, though whether it was hope that Dante was awake, or hope that he wasn’t so she could really shoot him you weren’t sure. Luckily, you wouldn’t have to find out this time.

“Yeah, he’s up. But he’s gonna want breakfast before he leaves.” You watched as Lady rolled her eyes again.

“Let me guess: pizza, right?”

“Yup! There’s plenty so if you want some too, you’re more than welcome to have some,” you offered. Dante always loved your cooking, so his opinion was more than a little biased, especially since you were his girlfriend so you thought it would be a nice change to see what someone else thought of it.

“No thanks. Pizza for breakfast isn’t really my style. I prefer a real breakfast. You know, like eggs and bacon or biscuits and gravy or-” Lady paused when telltale sound of a timer rang out through the shop.

“Then this just might be right up your alley!” you said cryptically as you made your way to the kitchen. Lady, now curious as to what you meant, was hot on your heels.

She watched as you shut the timer and the oven off, then grabbing some oven mitts, proceeded to pull out a very yummy smelling pizza from the oven; however, it didn’t quite smell like a normal pizza, nor did it look like one.

She was about to ask when Dante chose that very moment to waltz into the kitchen, now totally awake and apparently very ready for his surprise pizza breakfast. Before he could even get a word out though, he took one look at it and blinked, tilting his head as if he wasn’t sure he was seeing it correctly. This wasn’t exactly what he thought of when you’d said ‘pizza.’

There was definitely crust and cheese, but the sauce and other toppings were not at all something he or Lady had ever thought about putting on a pizza. Instead of a regular pizza sauce, sausage gravy was barely visible through the toppings and said toppings consisted of more sausage, scrambled eggs, bacon, and of course, cheese.

“Babe...what is this exactly?” Dante questioned as he stared at the ‘pizza’ you’d made him. He didn’t sound disgusted or put off at all, merely curious. You’re cooking was always top notch so he was simply surprised since it wasn’t quite what he had expected.

“This is a breakfast pizza! Trust me. You’ll love it!” you said as you cut the pizza and pulled a piece off to hand him.

Dante didn’t waste any time in taking a bite as Lady watched on in curiosity. The minute he tasted it his eyes lit up and before he was even done chewing he was yelling, “Hell yeah! That hits the spot!”

You giggled as you tried to hand him a plate, which he ignored in favor of grabbing another slice with his free hand, then he made his way out of the kitchen to sit at his desk while he ate. Placing another piece on the plate Dante hadn’t taken, you held it up to Lady for a final offer.

“Sure you don’t want to give it a try?” You waved it a little in front of her, as if that would entice her to take it.

Surprisingly, she relented and took the plate from you. “Oh, why the hell not? If he’s raving about it this much, can’t be anything but good, right?”

You smiled brightly at her, getting another plate and a piece for yourself. Then, picking up the rest of the pizza, you brought it out of the kitchen and set it down in front of Dante on his desk as Lady followed behind you. Dante had already finished his first piece and was halfway through his second.

“Well, I guess the one good thing about this is he won’t take long to eat it.” Lady said as she watched in mild amusement as your boyfriend stuffed his face. Her amusement fell though, when he immediately grabbed a third slice upon finishing his second. “Unless he eats the whole damn thing by himself. Geez.”

“Guess you’d better hurry if you want more, ‘cause I ain’t saving you any!” He taunted back.

“I’m sure one piece is more than enough for me,” Lady said as she took her first bite.

You waited in anticipation for her verdict. Dante was easy to please so long as there wasn’t any olives in whatever you made him, so you really wanted to know what someone else thought of your new concoction, especially since you hadn’t followed a recipe.

As she chewed you watched her expression change from neutral, to surprised, to very pleased. “Alright! I admit it: this is pretty good,” She said as she took another bite.

You smiled brightly, happy that Lady also liked it as Dante grabbed yet another slice. “Then I hope you’re happy with that one slice ‘cause you probably ain’t getting any more!”

“I already told you one is enough for me!” Lady shot back and you watched them with a smile on your face as they bickered a little back and forth.

When Dante had finally finished his breakfast (and you and Lady as well), he got up from his chair to get ready to head out. “Nothing like a great breakfast made by the best girl in the whole world!” he proclaimed as holstered his twin pistols.

“Are you finally ready to go now?” Lady said in mock annoyance, but it was easy to tell she didn’t quite mean it. Good food almost always has ways of improving anyone’s mood.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses. I’m coming,” he said as he met her at the door. But then he suddenly looked like he just remembered something he forgot and turned back to you sitting on his desk next to the last, single slice of breakfast pizza. He strode back over to his desk and Lady groaned about the fact that he was going for another slice. But instead of stealing that last piece, he cupped your face and stole a kiss instead.

It would have been the sweetest thing too, except for the fact that he didn’t stop and you knew why. He dragged the kiss out, slanting his lips against yours again and again, as one of his hands left your face to wrap around you and pull you closer. He wasn’t keeping it chaste at all. Not that he was prone to do so normally, but you had an audience this time; an audience he was now purposely trying to irritate at the moment.

You registered the incessant tapping of Lady’s boot on the wooden floor in the back of your mind, but really it was a faraway thing to you with Dante’s tongue currently making love to your mouth. It wasn’t much longer though, before she’d finally had enough of waiting for the morning and made it known. “If you two are done sucking face, we do have a job to get to, Dante.”

He didn’t react immediately, and by now you were vaguely aware that he was treading a very thin line, but after a moment he finally pulled his lips away from your own, albeit slowly. He licked his lips, keeping his face close to yours as he admired the pretty flushed color of it and his breath when he spoke, brushed over your lips ever so gently, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome, babe.” You replied with a sweet smile as he straightened up and turned to flash Lady a roguish smirk.

“Get your ass in gear before I shoot you,” she said, shaking her head as she turned to open the door.

Dante started to head after her, but only got a few steps before stopping and turning around one last time. You heard Lady scream his name this time, and you were certain he’d get shot, if not now, then maybe later ‘by accident’ while on this job.

He gave you one last small peck on the cheek, said a quick, “Bye, baby,” and snatched the last piece of pizza from his desk before hightailing it out the door after Lady, whom you could see fuming in exasperation at your boyfriend.

When Dante turned to close the door behind him, he flashed you a quick smile and a wink, to which you called out, “Don’t get shot now!”

His face immediately fell and he groaned dramatically as he closed the door, the barest hint of a smile making its way back to his face just before you lost sight of him as the door shut.

That would have been the end of it, except that the loud bang of a gunshot reverberated through the area, followed by the familiar sound of your boyfriend’s yelp. There were a few moments of silence while you assumed he was recovering, then you heard a very distinct and indignant yell of, “MY PIZZA!” which he had apparently dropped on the ground after getting shot.

You couldn’t stifle the laugh that tumbled out of you at that and what followed was a slightly muffled argument between the two that you couldn’t quite make out through the closed door. Suddenly though, it was Lady who was now yelling, “DON’T EAT IT OFF THE GROUND! THAT’S GROSS!”

Which was followed by an equally loud reply from Dante of, “WHAT’S GROSS IS WASTING THIS!” Dante then started vehemently raving about your cooking and how it shouldn’t be wasted as their voices faded, indicating they were finally leaving.

You figured he probably wouldn’t shut up about your cooking all morning long and you almost felt sorry for Lady about that...

…Almost.

← Part 1 • Part 2 series • Part 3 (WIP)

#dmc #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc dante #dante x reader #dmc lady #breakfast pizza #female reader #devil may cry #my writing #suby scrawls

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ladycatofwinterfell · 3 years

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Dealing with the consequences, part 2

Summary: One day, six months after they move into their new house, Ned and Cat wake up to an unfortunate surprise. This small and seemingly insignificant event sets things into motion, and they try their best to repair what they can despite that they have messed up before. Because maybe, just maybe, they can do things a little bit better that time around. And you know what they say, third time’s the charm.

Consequences

This chapter will be entirely from Cat's POV, and I plan to make the next one all about Ned, but we'll see about that. Anyway, hope you like it <3

“Hello, Ned” Minisa said when Ned came inside.

Catelyn was glad for that only her mother had come. It would have been a lot harder if she had brought Dad as well. He and Ned didn’t really get along. He didn’t know everything and had therefore immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was Ned that had wronged his daughter in some way, and not the other way around. Mom was kinder and for that Catelyn was immensely grateful. She loved her father but sometimes he made things a lot harder than they had to be.

“Hello, Minisa.”

Minisa had Sansa on her lap and was gently bouncing the overjoyed baby up and down. Sansa had previously spent ten minutes trying to eat her grandma’s hair.

“Is it okay if we eat?” Catelyn asked. “I’m quite hungry.”

“I’m gonna leave soon, I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

For just a second Catelyn got eye contact with Ned over her Mom’s shoulder as he walked into the kitchen to get plates for them. The scent of something that smelled much like her favorite pasta was filling the room and she had to hold back a smile. He knew just what she liked.

“We’re doing fine” she assured her mother.

They were doing fine. A bit of uncertainty, a dash of conflicted feelings, a few unsolved problems. But fine. Maybe no more than fine, but definitely fine. They did their things, raised their kids, lived their lives.

“Except for the kitchen, of course” she added.

They were definitely not doing fine on that point.

“Yes, what is your plan for that?”

“I’ve been looking at some options today while Ned was at work, but we’re gonna talk more about it.”

It had been deadly dull and she wasn’t looking forward to sitting down with Ned and look into it more, but it would probably be a little more bearable than doing it alone. Sansa really hadn’t been of much help.

“Would you like any help with that?” Minisa asked and smiled.

She smiled like Catelyn was a child who had no idea of that she was doing. Sure, she had no idea at all of what she was doing sometimes, but she was an adult and could figure it out.

“No, we have this.”

The last thing they needed was family members coming with more or less, most often less, helpful advice. It would only stress them. The only one she took advice from was Cersei, which was strange considering where that had taken her. But at least Cersei didn’t pretend that her advice was great advice and that she always knew best... Who was Catelyn trying to fool, she definitely did that. Maybe she was just supposed to stop taking advice.

“Okay.”

That smile didn’t go away.

“Don’t look at me like that” Catelyn said firmly.

Perhaps a little bit firmer than intended, but that pitiful gaze was driving her nuts.

“I’m not looking at you in any particular way” Minisa said, raising her eyebrows.

“But you are” Catelyn sighed. “And I know all of you doubt everything I do, and that you have done so since I had Robb, but can you please not? Because I’m sick of it.”

It wasn’t doing any damage to anyone. Her son was a happy child, her daughter would be as well because no matter what she would be loved and cared for. And she knew what her situation must have looked like from the outside, but she was so goddamn tired of people judging without knowing a damn thing.

“Oh Cat, we don’t doubt you. We know you always try to do the right thing and that you’re doing your best, as we all are...” she paused, waved a hand through the air, and when she spoke again she had lowered her voice. “But are you really fine? Are you happy?”

Catelyn had to keep in a number of angry responses. She couldn't really be angry because of course her mother would be worried. That was what mothers did, they worried. Catelyn worried for Robb, she worried for Sansa, she understood. But the small difference was that her kids were still kids, while she herself was a grown woman.

“I am” she said. “My kids are happy pills and I have the luck to live with a man who is probably a better person to live with than most. And I have a good job, and friends, so I don’t have much to complain about.”

She definitely wasn’t unhappy. Of course everything didn’t feel great all the time, but she was building with what she had. And that was fine. Not fantastic, but fine. She had a few things to complain about, but not enough for there to be a serious problem. Okay, there was a pretty serious problem, but she couldn't acknowledge that without Ned and he pretty much refused to acknowledge that.

“Okay.”

Her mother was smiling again. But it wasn’t the same smile as before, and that was a relief.

“I think I should get home to your father now, but it was nice to see you and little Sansa again.”

“It was nice seeing you too” Catelyn said.

Seeing her family was always nice, her mother’s timing just hadn’t been ideal. There was a lot of feelings going on.

“You don’t need to hide anymore, she’s gone!” she shouted at Ned once the door had closed behind Minisa.

He had been in the kitvhen for much longer than necessary and she knew perfectly well why.

“Oh thank the gods!”

She had to laugh at that.

They discussed what she had been looking at during the day while they ate. She had been right about the pasta, and it was just as amazing as usual. They got somewhere with what they were going to do an everything felt a little better when they agreed about it. She wished that could have applied to other discussions as well, but she had to do with what she got. At least the kitchen would be fixed.

“We’ll have to take everything out tomorrow or Sunday if they’re gonna be here Monday” Ned said.

“We should turn off the electricity in the kitchen as soon as possible, so I think we should do it tomorrow” Catelyn responded through a mouthful of pasta.

“We’ll have to move the fridge and the freezer out here.”

“Ah, damnit, as if the table wasn’t enough.”

After dinner she handed their daughter to Ned and then she had a shower. She had been longing for that shower all day, there hadn’t really been time for it and Sansa was never too happy when Catelyn showered.

She came down the stairs half an hour later to a sight so perfect that she had to stop for a moment. It really was a dangerous thing, living together. Because then she could see stuff like that and be hit straight in the face with the desire to have it like that always. They were a family, that was true, but she wished it could have been full circle. She wished she could have looked at the man lying on the couch with their baby and think “that’s my husband and our baby”. Instead it was just “that’s the man I have a messed up relationship with and our baby”. She wished they could have been something to each other as well, she wished things had been different.

“Say whatever you want about the mess we created, but we do make cute babies” Ned said, looking at the small bundle sleeping on his chest.

When they had been together long ago he had never expressed a wish to have children. He had actually seemed quite opposed to it. That had been one of the reasons for why she had done as she did. But just that second she couldn’t understand how she had ever thought that, because the way he looked at their daughter was so soft and loving. He was a great father. What she was looking at was the way it was supposed to be.

“Yeah. We do.”

The knowledge of that they could make good things as well, that not everything they did together ended up being terrible, made her happy. They had made Sansa. And Robb, but Robb was different. Robb was hers. Sansa was theirs. And she was perfect, Catelyn could look at her for hours. She had looked at Robb that way when he was a baby as well.

“I’m a bit amazed by it” she added. “That we created her.”

“I’d love to take some credit for this lovely little thing, but it was mostly you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He had given her Sansa, and he had been with her through almost everything despite that he had been very angry at her. And she most likely wouldn’t have been able to take care of another baby completely on her own, no matter what she had thought in the beginning. Or, well, she would have been able to do it, the question was about whether or not she would have been fine while doing it.

Catelyn sat on the edge of the couch and laid a hand on Sansa’s back. She was so tiny. Robb had been much bigger.

“I had almost forgotten what it feels like to have a small baby” Ned said.

“Me too. She’s entirely dependent on us. We are necessary for her survival.”

“That’s crazy.”

She looked at him. He turned his eyes from Sansa and to her. But that thing in his eyes, the one she associated with how he watched her daughter, the one she associated with love, that thing was still there.

“It’s nice though, isn’t it?” Catelyn said softly. “Being that important to someone.”

“It is.”

She couldn’t help but smile, and when he smiled as well she had to look away. Damnit. What was she playing at, what was she trying to do? What was he trying to do?

“I should put her to bed.”

When she reached for Sansa he took one of her hands and held it. She met his eyes once more.

“Ned. We really shouldn’t...”

��“I know, I know.”

She carefully took their daughter and held the still sleeping baby to her chest. She could feel how Sansa breathed steadily. It was always calming to feel that since she was still in the phase when she was constantly terrified of that her baby would just stop breathing and die.

Ned sat up. That brought him much closer to her, she could almost feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Why do you want to?” she asked, keeping her gaze on Sansa. “You haven’t forgiven me, we haven’t fixed anything, why do you want to?”

He was quiet and Catelyn was just about to leave the couch and take Sansa upstairs when he answered.

“I don’t know. Why do you want to?”

She could answer that question in a heartbeat.

“Because I miss you.”

She did. She missed him. He was right there, but not like he had been before. And that was her own fault. Everyone could have been happy if it had not been for what she did.

“I miss you too.”

Why had he said that? Anything else would have been better, anything else would have made it easier to stay away.

“How can you do that when you hate me?” she asked.

“I don’t hate you. I hate what you did, I’m angry and I won’t forgive you, but I don’t hate you.”

“It sure as hell would have been easier if you did.”

He chuckled at that. But it wasn’t a happy sound.

“I don’t know if I’m able to. Sometimes I wish that I could, but I can’t. You did something to me that hurt me and still I can’t hate you. Maybe that is the reason for why I want to.”

That made no sense at all. But nothing ever really made sense. Or maybe it did and she just couldn’t understand it. At least she wasn’t alone in that, she had a strong feeling of that he probably understood nothing as well.

“Because you can’t hate me?”

“Clearly there is something about you that stops me from that, no matter if I like it or not.”

Despite that everything in her screamed at her not to do it, she leaned a bit closer to him. She couldn’t do that, she couldn’t, but she wanted to. It felt like she had never wanted something more.

“I can’t” she forced out. “This won’t make anything better.”

If anything it could make everything worse.

“No, but what can make things better?” he sighed.

She had asked herself that question a million times. What could make it better? She didn’t know. He almost refused to talk about it, gave her nothing on what she was supposed to do. It felt like she was walking in a dark room with no way of knowing where the light switch was. What she did know was that she was incredibly tired of it. It was draining. She was the one who had turned off the lights, but she was still tired of it.

She moved away from him again.

“Am I supposed to answer that? I’m not the one who won’t talk.”

And suddenly his face was no longer soft, but hard and cold as the northern winter.

“Have you considered that maybe trusting you is a bit hard after you kept a child secret?”

“I’m not asking you to trust me, I’m asking you to talk to me. This is the closest we have been to a meaningful conversation in more than a year. I just want to know what you want me to do.”

“I don’t want you to do anything. You have messed up enough as it is.”

All that worked as quite a reminder of why she had not said anything about that earlier. They wouldn’t get anywhere with that, there was no point in trying. And she didn’t want to fight, she didn’t have the energy for that, so she simply stood up and took Sansa upstairs to her crib.

Catelyn stayed in her room for the remainder of that evening. It was better than risking anything. He didn’t want to fight either, she was well aware of that. But it was hard, and multiple times she found herself almost going to him. To apologize, or try to talk again, or anything, really. She didn’t know what she wanted to do, but she wanted to do something. The fact that she had no idea about what to do ached in her. She hated not having a grip of the situation.

And when she heard him come up the stairs she just couldn’t stop herself. She opened the door, but he walked right past her.

“I would take it back if I could” she said, leaning against the doorframe. “And I’m sorry.”

Ned stopped. He didn’t turn to look at her, but he sighed.

“I know you are because I know you’re not a bad person. You never meant to hurt anyone, but here we are.”

It was slowly killing her to see him hurt so. It hurt in her as well. Because she loved him. She had denied it for quite some time, but she did love him. Otherwise it wouldn’t have hurt so much. Otherwise the guilt wouldn’t have been eating her up from the inside.

“Here we are” she mumbled and once again wondered where they would have been if it had been different.

“Loving you is undoubtedly the hardest thing I have ever done.”

She could say the same. Loving him was the hardest thing she had ever done. But she loved him all the same.

“Don’t you mean it was? It should be past tense.”

“No.”

That didn’t make any– oh. Oh.

“Ned.”

He loved her. And she loved him. Catelyn had never experienced a stranger emotion than the mix of joy and sorrow that filled her at that realization. It was supposed to be a good thing, and to some extent it was, but at the same time it kept them from going forward.

Ned just continued to his room, not looking back at her. That time she didn’t hesitate before following him, she couldn’t leave it there.

“Ned” she repeated, laying a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Cat” he responded.

When he turned around he was so close to her that she could almost feel his breath on her face.

“I’m sorry” she whispered and turned her gaze to the floor. “I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t know what she was apologizing for. For keeping the secret for so long, for showing up at his house one day without a warning, for partaking in the affair, for that he still loved her. Maybe it was all of it. Maybe it was something entirely different.

He leaned his forehead against hers and she could feel the tears in her eyes. Why did it have to be so hard? Why couldn’t it be easy? She was exhausted.

“I love you, and I miss you” Ned said. “That is why.”

The only thing Catelyn could do in response to that was kiss him. It wasn’t accidental, it wasn’t something she did in confusion, she did it because she wanted to. Because she believed he wanted to as well. And it felt just as good as she had imagined when he pulled her closer to him and deepened the kiss.

~*~

She had not meant to fall asleep afterwards. She had meant to go to her room and sleep there. But still she woke to the sound of Sansa’s cries and did not realize where she was at first. It took her a moment to understand to who that warm arm around her belonged to.

Ned stirred when she moved away from him and climbed off the bed. She began gathering up her clothes from the floor. It definitely was time to move back to her bedroom and she might just as well do it when she had to go to Sansa.

“I can take her” Ned offered.

“No” Catelyn said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I’ll do it. I should get back to my room anyway.”

She left before he had time to say anything else. The night before she had been too caught up in the moment to feel ashamed about it. But after that sated bliss had left her she could look at it in another light. Last time things had ended so terribly bad. And the circumstances were very different that time around, sure, but still something tightened in her chest. How would he feel about it? Would he regret it? Would he regret sleeping with her again after what she had done? She didn't want to go back to how it had been between them mere months earlier.

She held Sansa in her arms and kissed the top of her little head. She wasn’t hungry and was quite quickly soothed back to sleep. But Catelyn wasn’t quick to put her down.

She half expected Ned to come after her. Or maybe she just wished he would. She didn’t know. But he never came and in the end she put Sansa down and crawled into her own bed. And she couldn’t help but thinking of that morning in the kitchen when he had made her pancakes. It had been more than a year since that. And a lot had happened. But she felt the same as she had felt then. She wanted to be with him. All of him. They were living together, she had been in his bed just minutes earlier. It was more than she had had back then, before Sansa. But she still didn’t have every part of him. And she was very sure of that he would never give it all to her. She understood that, and she was aware of that she had fucked up badly. But it still hurt.

Catelyn had slept little when morning came, Sansa had refused to sleep longer than an hour at a time, which was unusual. But Catelyn still wasn’t that tired. And she heard when Ned passed her door and walked down the stairs. Always the early riser. Even up earlier than the baby.

She wanted to stay in bed longer. Because she had no idea about what to do or say when she saw him. It had been fine. Why had they decided to throw sex into the mix as well and shake everything up? She didn’t know. But it had felt so damn good that she was almost ready to take every consequence there was just for more of it. And they loved each other.

After a while Sansa decided that it was time to get up for them too. So Catelyn fed her and then took her downstairs.

“Mornin’” Ned said when she came downstairs.

He didn’t look up from the newspaper he was reading. Was he as stressed about all of it as she was? Or was he as calm as he seemed? She genuinely had no idea. Lately it had been very hard to understand his feelings and what he wanted. She just didn't want them to hurt each other because of it.

“Good morning” she responded as she put Sansa in her chair.

It felt a bit weird to have the kitchen table in the living room, but they would have all of their kitchen in the living room in a day when they started renovating the kitchen.

Ned put away his newspaper and directed his attention towards Sansa instead. He was great at keeping her in a good mood.

The morning slowly passed. They did some cleaning, which was a hundred times easier when Robb and Jon weren’t home. Lovely lads, but terrible at putting things away. And Catelyn had not even reflected over that they had baby stuff literally everywhere, but she did when she was picking it all up. She could only imagine what it would be like once Sansa learned to walk.

It was actually quite nice. They didn’t talk much, but it didn’t feel bad at all. He even smiled at her occasionally so he couldn’t hate it too much, right? It could go well.

After lunch they took boxes down from the attic and began packing down things they had in the kitchen. Catelyn was surprised by how many things they had after only having lived there for half a year. They were just taking a break when she got a messege

haven't seen you in a while, wanna take a walk or something?

The timing for that couldn't have been better and an hour later Catelyn found herself walking towards the little coffee shop a few blocks from their house so that she could get some desperately needed coffee before meeting up with Cersei. Ned had happily taken Sansa for an hour so that she could go out for a walk, he was probably glad to be rid of her for a while. He probably needed some time to reflect, just as she did. It had been hard to do so while being just a few meters apart.

“Well, don’t you look miserable?” was the first thing Cersei said. “Baby keeping you awake?”

“Among other things” Catelyn responded and took a sip of her coffee.

She regretted it when she burned her tongue and pulled a face. She should have known that she had to wait until it cooled down a bit. But she should have known that last night as well. And that hadn’t exactly stopped her.

“And your kitchen flooded. You’re really living the dream life.”

Catelyn had to smile. She was living quite the opposite of the dream life.

“Fucked up relationship, flooded kitchen, kids that won’t sleep, people wish they were me.”

Cersei snorted.

“You still call that a relationship?”

She hesitated for a moment. Was it a good idea to tell Cersei about it? She didn’t want to keep it to herself, but it was still so new, she didn’t know what to do with it. But what would change if she told Cersei? Nothing. So she decided to go for it.

“I don’t know what else to call it.”

“Have you considered dating or seeing someone else?”

She had absolutely not considered that. Who would have wanted her anyway? She was living with an ex and three children between the ages of ten and five months. So even if she had been interested in that the situation really wasn’t ideal for it.

“No. And he told me he loves me last night. I don’t know what that makes it, but it sure is something.”

She had expected some sort of reaction from Cersei, but the blonde only shrugged.

“Huh, I thought it would take longer.”

And what exactly did Cersei mean by that?

“What?”

“I knew it would come sooner or later, but not this soon. Ned’s a stubborn son of a bitch.”

Catelyn had to stop and look at her. That it would come sooner or later? Had she not listened when Catelyn told her about what had happened before? Ned had barely spoken to her for weeks, had refused to meet her eyes. There had been no sign of love, no sign of that they could ever be what they had been before. How could she have expected that?

“How could you have known that?” she exclaimed.

“Because I’ve been observing this relationship for years now, darling” Cersei laughed. “And no matter what happens you two always manage to snake your way back to each other. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not, I’m just saying that’s how it is.”

It would have felt better if she could dismiss that as something that wasn’t true, but Catelyn knew it was. Nothing had ever stopped them before so she probably should have expected it to happen. She should have been ready. She hadn’t been ready. Not for him telling her that he loved her.

“I don’t know if it’s a good thing either” she sighed. “It just feels like we’re digging through rock bottom together.”

“That’s not great.”

“No. I thought that maybe it was about to get better now, that maybe we could finally move forward, but instead we just fell down the hole. Again. And I can’t even be mad about it because I love him.”

She didn’t want to feel that way, but she did. It should have been a good thing, love was a good thing, and how many nights had she not dreamt of them being happy with each other again? But that was the thing, she had dreamt of happiness. And at the moment their love didn’t make any of them happy. At least Ned wasn’t happy. And how could he ever be? When he loved the woman who had wronged him so terribly. It would have been a lot more welcome if they had talked more first, and actually started fixing their relationship.

“Maybe admitting that you love each other is what it takes for you to start digging upwards instead of downwards” Cersei said, sounding way too optimistic for Catelyn’s liking.

She couldn’t escape the feeling of that his feelings for her made him unhappy. That he disliked it. And it was hard to blame him for it. She just didn't want to hurt him more. She couldn't stand the thought of making things worse for him.

“I guess you could fix this if you want to. But the question is whether or not it’s a good idea.”

Catelyn had to believe it was a good idea. For the sake of her children. And for hers and Ned's sake. She wanted it to work so badly that it ached in her. And if they fucked up yet another time she would never forgive herself.

“I don’t know if he wants to. We’re in the same house because of the kids, not because he wants a relationship.”

It was fully possible that it had made him realize that he didn't want it at all and that he didn't want it to be more than a thing that happened once. She didn't want to dive right into it if he was going to back out as soon as it was brought up again.

“You haven’t talked to him?” Cersei asked, seemingly surprised.

“No. We tried to talk, got irritated with each other, I apologized and he told me he loves me and then–“ she stopped herself from finishing that sentence.

Cersei laughed again.

“I knew it!”

“Oh shut up, that’s really not important.”

The important part was literally everything but that. But she would have to talk to Ned about everything, she understood that. He understood it as well. Because they couldn’t just leave it there. Some things they just had to deal with as soon as possible.

They should have had that conversation the first thing that morning, but they hadn’t. They had had a good time instead.

“The mood was good this morning though, so maybe I shouldn’t be so pessimistic” she added. “I don’t know, I’m not brave enough to hope for anything because if I get my hopes up and it falls apart yet another time I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“I believe you shouldn’t think too much on it before you have actually talked about it with him. Because worrying isn’t doing anything good for you.”

“You’re probably right. I just don’t want us to go into it too fast and end up messing things up for ourselves and our kids.”

“I get that, Cat. But you really should talk to each other. I’m definitely no relationship expert, I have my fair share of mistakes regarding that, but even I can see that you two fucking suck at talking.”

"Oh believe me, I know."

But she was going to talk to him because walking around and being uncertain was quickly becoming unbearable.

#catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ned x cat #minisa tully #cersei lannister #sansa stark #consequences #dealing with the consequences #i was planning to post earlier but i got distracted by a friend so im sorry about that but here's the chapter

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

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Technical Difficulties

Ch 1: Blue Screen, Blue Eyes

Daniel was a new accounting intern. Which in and of itself would have been fine and entirely not Silas’s problem; but he wasn’t the best with computers, so Silas found himself called up to accounting once or twice every week. Silas probably would have been more annoyed if Daniel wasn’t so friendly. He made a genuine effort to help and that made it difficult for Silas to be upset with him. Silas was usually pretty swamped when it came to work. He was head of the IT department as well as the lead engineer for the company. He was always working on something be it fixing up a computer, rewriting a program, or developing improvements for the medical equipment that the company was built from; so he was always slightly annoyed when he was called away to fix something else. Despite the size of the company, the IT department was the smallest and usually spread pretty thin. Which again fell back on Silas, he was very particular about the people he hired. It was one of his usual days, he was spreading himself between about three different projects when the main office phone rang. He cursed under his breath and answered it before the third ring, “You got Silas.” “It’s Daniel.” Silas let out a quiet sigh as the intern spoke, of course it was. “The intern terminal blue screened and it’s making a horrible noise that I can’t get to stop.” Silas nodded, he could faintly hear the computer screaming it’s grievances in the background, “I’ll be up in a few Daniel.”

He grabbed what the department had lovingly dubbed the Crash Cart and made his way to the elevator. Silas was pretty sure this one wasn’t Daniel’s fault, the intern terminal had been giving them trouble for quite some time. One of the other interns was downloading mp3s that were a little questionable. So if Silas had to blame anything for the computer finally biting the dust it would be that. He pressed the call button and waited. The accounting department was due for some new computers, they had added enough new people that the few extras they had were no longer enough. The ones he had ordered wouldn’t be in until the end of the week. Fixing and or replacing this downed computer was now added to that list and now things were going to take even longer. He was going to be spending a few nights at the office so he wouldn’t fall too far behind, and he probably wasn’t going to hear the end of it from Connor. His twin always lectured him about his health so it wasn’t going to be anything he hadn’t heard before. The elevator chimed and he pushed the cart inside. Josh was still on vacation for another three days, so he was going to be on his own for any repairs that would need to be done. He sighed again and took his glasses off to rub at the bridge of his nose. He liked his job and he really didn’t mind helping people, but there were days when he wished he could say that IT was down. It would give him more time to work on some of the bigger things, but AME was mostly paperless at this point so unfortunately he couldn’t be that petty.

He played favorites, as any reasonable IT person tended to. His brothers were at the top of his list, Daniel was a close third; Hank hadn’t had any issues yet but he seemed nice enough. Gavin was the problem child in a way, he was always getting food or drinks of some kind in his computer terminal and messing it up. He was annoying, but every office had one. If it were up to him, Gavin would be in filing so that he wouldn’t be anywhere near computers, but it wasn’t up to him so he would just have to deal with it. The elevator chimed for his floor and he pushed the cart out to find Daniel waiting for him. The blonde was wringing his hands as he always did when he thought someone was mad at him. Silas gave him a pleasant smile. “Hey Daniel, wanna take me to the problem child?” He asked and waited for the blonde to lead the way, “I’ll see if can fix it up here without taking it apart, then you’ll be good to go. No worries, okay?” “Alright/” Daniel agreed, “I know I break things a lot of the time so I’m sorry about that.” “I don’t think this one is your fault. You aren’t the only one that uses that terminal.” He amended as they made their way to the bullpen, “You were just unlucky today. Just like with the coffee machine.” Daniel laughed, “Oh god, don’t remind me.” Silas found himself smiling now that Daniel seemed to be in a better mood, “We had a good laugh about it though.”

When they got to the bullpen Silas could hear the digital cry of the computer. It was a sound that he hated, both because of the sound itself and because of what it typically meant. He called it the Death Wail. Hopefully he could fix it without taking it apart, if that wasn’t the case he would have to do temporary repairs and then replace it once the new computers came in. He would just have to add to the order when he got back to the workshop. They got to what was Daniel’s desk for this shift, the intern corner as it was dubbed. The screen was a deep saturated blue with white code text crawling across the screen. This was worse than he had thought. “The writing wasn’t there when I left.” Daniel said with a bit of worry in his voice, “That’s bad isn’t it?” “Yeah, I’m going to have to take it apart and see where the issue is. It’s gonna take me a few days probably.” He reached behind the terminal and unplugged it and began to disconnect it from the monitor, “Is there anything you can do here while the computer is down?” “Paper work I suppose.” Daniel said as Silas moved the computer to the Crash Cart, “I’d have to see if there is anything backed up. If not, then there won’t be anything for the interns to do.” “How would you like to learn a bit about computers?” Silas asked after he had stood up, “If Richard says it’s okay of course.”

Daniel lit up some at that, “That sounds interesting. Maybe I won’t have as many issues then.” “Just talk to Richard, then if you’re able to, come down and join me on floor six.” He pulled the cart away from the desk, “I might have this taken apart by then. So I’ll see you in a bit.” Daniel nodded as Silas headed back toward the elevators. He had his work cut out for him alright. He planned to run a few diagnostics in hopes of not actually having to take the thing apart, but he was sure he would have to anyway. Both the Blue Screen and the Death Wail had him sure this one was toast. He hit the call button and resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t be going home for the night. “One day.” He said to the empty hallway, “I just want one day without any computer problems.” The elevator at the far end of the hall chimed open and Richard stepped out of it. He eyed Silas as he passed but neither of them did anything more than wave. Richard would learn about the problem soon enough. Silas made his way to the elevator and hit six. He wouldn’t be getting his smoke break today so he might get a bit testy in a few hours. He was trying to quit either way so maybe this was a blessing in disguise after all. If he helped Daniel get over his computer anxiety he would have one less thing to worry about. One less stressor, one less reason to smoke.

The elevator chimed for his office and he pushed the cart to one of the more clear work tables and started getting things set up. Since he would would be down here for a few hours he decided to play music through the workshop speakers. He got the terminal set up as needed and started running the tests. They would take anywhere from ten minutes to three hours to complete depending on how bad things were. He walked to one of the other work benches and picked up his tablet to continue working on the specs for the new prosthetic arm he wanted to design. He bobbed his head to the music that was playing. He got pulled far enough into his work that he didn’t notice the elevator chime open or Daniel step into the workshop until the blonde was standing on the other side of his tablet. Silas started and set the tablet down after closing the case. “Holy fuck.” Silas gasped, “I was busy. I didn’t hear you come in. Sorry about that.” “Sorry for scaring you.” Daniel looked over toward the testing dock, “What are you working on?” “Product specs. I can’t show them to you unfortunately because it’s private information.” He said conversationally, “I figure I could get more work done while I waited. Your department is all caught up?” “Yesterday’s intern apparently did the last of it so I’m free until the computer is back to normal.” Daniel said as he leaned against the work bench.

Silas glanced at the dock monitor, “We’ve got about a ten minute wait still. Is there anything you want to do to pass the time?” “Talk I guess, there isn’t much else to do.” Daniel said, “Do you like doing all of this? It seems like a lot of work for a group of four.” “It’s definitely a lot of work, but it’s worth it.” Silas shrugged, “As far as liking it, that really depends on the day. The days I’m not able to get anything done, not so much; but the days I’m able to get more research done are pretty nice.” “So you don’t like IT work all that much?” Daniel continued, “Why do you do it then?” “Because I like it.” He said simply, “Its what got me through college. What about you, why accounting?” “I like working with numbers, they are like little puzzles for me to solve. Which is fun.” Daniel smiled again as he spoke, “Its simple most days, but the technology tends to give me trouble and make things difficult.” “Let’s see about fixing that last part.” He turned to face Daniel with a pleasant smile, “On the days you have time, I can teach you about computers. Then maybe you’ll have better luck with them.” “If you have time.” Daniel said as he straightened up, “You have a lot to do already.” “We can start today with this little problem child.” Silas said as he moved to the other side of the bench and opened up the terminal and got to work, “You can even come over here to see what I’m doing if you would like.”

Daniel walked to the other side of the work table and Silas spent the next few hours explaining things as he took apart the computer. What each piece was used for and what issues and malfunctions could be caused by something going wrong. Daniel nodded along and listened intently. By doing this he was also able to find the issue sooner than he had thought. He thanked Daniel and walked him through the process of fixing it. The blonde had sat down at the work bench and the next time Silas checked on him he was asleep. He checked the time and found out that it was creeping up on three in the morning. He stopped long enough to go grab one of his lab sweatshirts and draped it over Daniel. He dimmed the lights and got back to work on his tablet to fix the arm specs a little more. Next would be printing a 3D model. He could work on the terminal again when Daniel woke up. “Sleep well Blue Eyes.” He said to the quiet room. He found himself looking forward to computer repairs for the first time in a long while. Who knew someone with such poor luck could be such a refreshing change of pace? Blue screens and blue eyes could turn out to be a good thing after all.

#A Guide to Bad Business Practices #A Guide to Bad Business Practices AU #AGBBP #Technical Difficulties #TD #Daniel60 #daniel x sixty #dbh Daniel #dbh Sixty #dbh fic #dbh

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not-xpr-art · 3 years

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Art Advice #6 - Ways to combat social media fatigue as a creative person

Hi guys!

This week’s topic is something I think any artist who’s predominantly active on social media will relate to; that feeling of utter helplessness at trying to live up to social media algorithms, which can really impact your mental and physical health...

I want to just offer some advice on how to feel less burnt out from art social media (advice I need to take myself sometimes)...

Ways to combat social media fatigue as a creative person (& how you can make social media overall a better place to be).

As I’ve already said, social media can take a big toll on your mental and physical health, particularly if you’re relying on it for your career (as a lot of artists and other creatives do).

This blog post aims to offer some small pieces of advice to help make your life a little easier when navigating the world of art social media!

1) Algorithms are built to destroy creativity.

I think we’ve all had that phase where we try and keep up with the fast paced algorithms of social media that demand we produce new content day after day, as well as constantly interacting with other people’s posts and spending a minimum amount of time on the app. And all of this leads to feeling fed up and tired when you’re using that particular social media.

For me, Instagram used to be such a wonderful place for sharing art. I met many amazing fellow artists, and the community that was formed their was genuinely lovely. Unfortunately, everything changed when the fire nation (Facebook) bought out the company & the whole site became so less friendly to smaller creatives.

I’ve heard a similar story from a lot of artists, who find Instagram’s focus on excessive posting and engagement, which mainly rewards big influencers or celebrities and not smaller accounts of creative people, incredibly disheartening. The algorithms don’t allow artists to naturally explore their creativity, and it leads to more and more artists getting just completely creatively burnt out.

Of course, this all sounds really pessimistic, but it doesn’t have to be. For me, places like Tumblr and the newly created Artfolapp, which (although not perfect) offer a great alternative to the algorithm heavy apps like Instagram, Facebook or Twitter. As with all socials, there’s a huge element of luck that comes with posting art (timezones, audience, etc can all play major parts in how well your art does), but I always find places where posting doesn’t feel like a chore are a lot more enjoyable.

Alternatively, as simple as it sounds I think a great way to start approaching all social media is to not focus on numbers. Instagram actually recently gave the option of being able to hide likes on others and your own posts, which I actually think is a great idea! Once you become less focused on numbers I think you can breathe a little easier!

2) Numbers =/= Your worth as a creative person.

Following on from my last point, it can often feel like if you’re posts aren’t getting as much attention as you used to then there’s something wrong with the work your doing.

Of course, this isn’t true at all, and most of us know this. Unfortunately if your posts are a part of your work, and the engagement they have is directly linked to how successful in your job you are (and how much money you make that week), then numbers are a lot harder to ignore.

My biggest piece of advice for this is to visualise the numbers as what they are; people actually interacting with your work! So even if it’s only 1 person, that’s still 1 entire person who enjoyed what you posted!

3) Luck be a b*tch, honestly ...

As previously mentioned, there is a lot of luck that comes with being successful on social media. Luck of posting in the right place at the right time, having one person with a bigger platform share your art, etc.

So there isn’t a lot of advice I can give in this section. One thing I’d recommend is involving yourself in a particular community or fandom. Even if you don’t do fancontent, finding a community where you can meet like-minded people and support each other’s work is a really useful thing!!

For fancontent (like fan art, edits, cosplay, covers, etc) you can just check out the tags of those fandoms! Even if it’s a small fandom, there is usually some content that already exists for it. Often by following a range of people in the various fandoms you enjoy can also lead to fun opportunities, like fan-zines or collaborations!

For non-fancontent it can feel like it’s a lot harder to find people to relate to. One thing I’d recommend is to find independent magazines online which specialise in sharing creative works! This can offer great chances to get your work featured, as well as meeting some fellow creatives!

Basically, curating your social media experience to feature people that inspire you & support you not only makes for a more enjoyable time being on social media, but it also means there’s more potential your work will be seen!

4) Passion Pays.

Audiences often know when you’re producing something because you feel like you have to (perhaps it’s fancontent for something you gained a lot of followers from, or a particular style that you’ve done for a long time) rather than from genuine passion, and that can be to your detriment.

My advice is to do what you’re actually passionate about, even if that means that some people may not be as interested. For example, I gained a significant portion of my followers on other social medias from posting Kpop fanart. And although I still do this occasionally, I only ever really do it when it’s something I really want to draw. Even though I know I could churn out a lot of Kpop content that those people who followed me for it would really like, I also like drawing other things & going out of my comfort zone in art.

And I know that the people who still follow and support me now understand this, and often appreciate that I draw things I’m unabashedly passionate about! It has also made me a lot happier overall with my own work, since I feel like I’m constantly pushing myself to do new and interesting things for me, and not to fulfil the interests of others!

This can also include a complete turn around of the kinds of things you create, by the way! If you’ve been a 2D artist for ages, but suddenly develop a passion for 3D sculpture, then go for it! Those who are still interested in your work will stick around. As well as this, you’ll grow an entirely new audience with the new creative outlet you start sharing! It’s honestly a win-win situation, and don’t let the fear of people not accepting the change hold you back!

5) TAKE BREAKS!

Possibly the most important piece of advice in this post is to remember to take a break from social media! Even if it’s something you rely on for your job, and the algorithms demand you spend time on them, try to take periods of time during your day to switch off from it.

Another thing I would also suggest is taking breaks from posting things. I did this in January because I wanted a break from forcing myself to live up to the hell of a posting schedule. I still did art, but without the pressure of having to post things I was able to take time and have a little more fun with it!

A final thing in this part that I’d suggest is taking breaks from doing creative stuff occasionally. If you’re anything like me, you probably spend nearly every day doing or at least thinking about creative things. And that can become very tiring! Whether it’s taking a week, a few days, or entire months, remember that your creativity and skill aren’t just going to disappear if you take a break from it for a bit!

I think creative people tell themselves that if they don’t keep posting, then people are going to stop supporting their work. But in my experience, people stick around even if you haven’t posted something in years! Because if someone enjoys your work, then they’re going to stick around regardless!

TL/DR

Basically to sum up, social media can be hell to navigate with it’s obsessive algorithms and posting schedules. But if you allow yourself to adapt to other sites/apps that don’t rely on those things, don’t fixate on numbers, curate your experience to both be inspiring and supportive, let your passion shine through, and remember to take breaks, then social media can become a lot more enjoyable!

I hope this post was somewhat helpful to anyone who struggles with this... I have to admit that I often don’t take my own advice in regard to social media, but I thought me posting this could help both of us out lol!

Check out my other Art Advice posts here if you’re interested!

#art advice #social media #art social media #creative people #social media advice #artist advice #advice #this is about 1400 words long btw... not the longest thing i've ever written but also not the shortest hmm #also as always feel free to message me if you want any more advice #or if you want me to write a post about something specific???#can be about literally anything art related!!

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barcaavengers · 4 years

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Complete Safe Haven||Newt Imagine

Note: I'm not that proud of this since I edited it about 6 times. I feel like it lacks something I can't really tell what it is, but here it is! Will definitely write a part two so we will see how everyone responds to it. I was listening to "That Would Be Enough" from Hamilton cause I think it tells a bit how Newt could be somewhat hesitant of the idea of having a baby after everything he has gone through and how unsure he can be of himself, you know? I don't know, that song inspired me a bit. Also, struggled a lot to think how the Safe Haven would be like after two years of them moving there so yep. Feedback and ideas are encouraged! <3

Tag: Tagging those who liked my posts that I was writing it since I said a few weeks ago it was going to be up and totally didn’t. @late-to-the-fandom-party @loverofmazeandthrones @gaymistakeboi @enixgucci @the-panwitch @expectroyalpurple @thepotatoes-havefallen @queenkitten695 @lovefelps @kurtzyoufunkylittledruggyprimary @smallsleepywriter @haiykuuia @sskeletonsoffun @thiccheerioss @demiwitchavenger7 @infinite-piper @sungjungelf @hanniejji @solovehasblindedyou @sleepysnapesnake @little-odd-dude @washing-machine-headcannons

The soft waves going against your body so early in the morning was your favorite feeling ever since you have gotten to the Safe Haven. The waves would just make you forget what had happened, cleared your head from any memory that was too painful, and those were mostly of that night. You still had nightmares, watching him turn into a Crank, his attacks, him hurting you unconsciously...You were lucky that things ended the way they did, but even then, you knew that those memories would always get to you. Arms rest on your shoulders making you jump, but relax under the knowing touch, rubbing your shoulder blades soothingly and you smile. "Hey."

"Morning, love" Newt's voice was still groggy, you guessed it hasn't been long since he woke up. "Why aren't you in bed?" He presses a kiss on your shoulder before his hands land on your waist, the soft waves rocking you both slightly.

"You kicked me out" you say playfully as you turn to him.

"What a terrible boyfriend I am," he says with a chuckle. "When was the last time you slept properly?"

It has been about two years since you have moved to the Safe Haven. The island was now covered in construction, buildings, and houses. Yesterday it was your four year anniversary, and Newt had planned a beautiful evening in what you were proud to call your new house, "First night home" he called it. After living in a small hut that reminded you of the Glade, now you had a bigger house, all for the two of you. You have been looking into The Last City, or what used to be, after Jorge took you and others back a few months ago, and you had the chance to gather a few technology items in a somewhat black market set in the city. The immunes that survived had built a city within the city, but no sign of what Wicked once was. You had seen people losing themselves to the Flare, so you started to play around with the idea of a cure again, using Thomas' blood and trying to figure out what made his blood different, without human trials and finding a way to help without draining him from his blood. You managed to do it with Newt. Vitals were missed when he attacked Thomas' back at the Last City and the serum was administered when he woke up on your way to this place. You took the serum and mixed it with some of Thomas' blood and applied a second dose, that one seemed to have done it. Unfortunately there wasn't enough serum for everyone back there and you had to find a way.

"I can't say" you admit with a smirk. "I need to keep working…" you say as he removes a strand of hair from your face.

"You look pale every morning, love" he points out.

"Maybe the late nights I'm working" but you knew better than that. Newt hasn't noticed, but you have been having morning sickness more often and feeling dizzy.

"Take a break" he kisses your forehead. "We have our new home, we have to enjoy it" he says and you smile. You had a slight idea of what could be going, but instead of raising hopes, you rather wait to get things confirmed.

Vince had brought a doctor who was the one to help you around the idea of a cure, as well as helped you learn a few things about medicine. She agreed to run a few tests while Newt was out with Thomas, Gally and Minho as they went to check an area for tonight to set a bonfire like back at the Glade, just a close group of friends, you have refused when they asked you to go and went to get the results at the medical hut instead.

"Hey" you greet the doctor after walking into the tent.

"Y/N," she greets as she turns around. "Couldn't wait I see?" She teases.

"I have barely slept" you admit with a nervous smirk. "Between this and thinking of ways to make the cure…"

"You shouldn't lose sleep over this" Elena, the doctor, says as she lifts a piece of paper causing your heartbeat to increase.

"Oh God…" you mutter.

"You ready?" She asks as she walks towards you and you nod. "You might not know much about medicine and all this, but you were right" she hands you the piece of paper, your eyes widening. "Congratulations."

For a moment every sound goes silent, it felt like everything around you stopped and so many feelings rushed in. How were you supposed to feel? How would Newt react? "I-"

Elena reaches you and places a hand on your shoulder, "Everything alright?"

"I don't know…" you say. "I never really thought about it...I mean, I did but now that it happened…"

"You are scared" she says and you nod your head slowly. "Don't be" she assures you. "If what you are scared of is Newt's reaction, I think he will be shocked at first, but he will grow to the idea of it. He loves you."

"I can't even think of a way to tell him…" you admit. "What about this place? I don't think it's completely baby proof."

"No place is baby proof. Certainly not during these times" she points out. "Doesn't mean everyone will stop having babies. You will have everyone's support I'm that sure. We will look into ways to get what you need as everything goes" somehow her words made your whole body relax.

You were away from Wicked, away from the Flare it seemed, but you never trusted that. The Flare could travel through air according to Ava, and Wicked could easily find you if they get as determined as they were, if there was anyone left that would go with such crazy trials. It didn't appear so, the times you have been into the Standing City you have not heard a word from Wicked or possible takers in the tasks. Everyone who survived the attack was just trying to get their lives before the Flare decided their faith, and any immune would just mind their business. Would there be anyone crazy enough to bring back what Wicked once was? Or something worse? Your mind was spinning around the idea. You didn't want your kid to be taken away and used for crazy experiments and trials, you knew that much. Not that you wouldn't do anything in your power to keep them safe from anything that happened.

You have gone back to your new house and went to lay back on the hammock to try to keep all your feelings in check and find a way to tell Newt the news. Will he be happy? Will he have the same thoughts of bringing a baby to the Safe Haven was a bad timing right now? It wasn't planned, but it wasn't not planned either. It was going to happen eventually. You two were careful, but after some time you two stopped, knowing the consequences but did it anyway. Was it maybe that you both have wanted this but never talked about it with the other? You knew you wanted a life with Newt, wanted everything with him, but what about him? Kids were not something you two have talked about before, because you two were now growing into the relationship and taking bigger steps, like the new house he had built up along with the guys for the two of you.

"Hey, love" Newt calls as he walks in and you turn around from your hammock.

"Hey" he leans in and you peck his lips once you sit up. "How was it?"

"Well, it's not the Glade," Newt says as he stares off blankly. "but it's big enough for a group of us. I don't think many people would get going in the middle of nowhere and set a bonfire and get drunk...or fight Gally" he chuckles and you join him.

"The latter is the one people won't get" you say and lean against him, your heart beating wildly as you thought of telling him.

"Probably" he says and wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. "I mean, getting wasted is kind of a thing to go for that one. I don't think that anyone right upstairs would fight Gally, except you when you kicked his ass" he adds. "I'm betting on you to do it again in front of everyone," he smirks.

"That was a good day" you agree and smirk. "Don't think I'll have the same luck now" he takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

"Let's go get ready for tonight" he says and kisses your forehead before pulling you by your hand.

When you arrive at the bonfire, you see that even if not many have come, it was enough to make you remember your times at the Glade and you feel a knot growing on your throat, eyes watering. You remembered Chuck, Winston and Alby. Newt side eyes you and pulls you close, "I'm okay" you assure him.

"You don't have to be" he throws an arm around your shoulder and kisses the side of your temple. "I know what it feels like," he knew that this was giving you major flashbacks. "They wouldn't want us moping around though, so let's go have some fun" he takes your hand and makes you spin after he pulls away and you giggle, he pulls you close to him again and join the others.

Newt was with the boys while you sat with Harriet, Sonya and Brenda. They knew about your tests, so that was the topic.

"So? What did they say?" Sonya asks as she leans in.

"I bet it is what I said. Come on, I can't be the only one who thought about it as soon as she said how she was feeling" Brenda says with her hand extended to you.

"I don't know if I should tell you" you tease as you grin. "Or just say it at the bonfire...at some point" you say and look back at Newt who gives you a wink, making your cheeks flush.

"Oh come on, you are gonna make us wait?" Harriet says with a pout. "Please?" Her hand extends and you sigh, pulling out the piece of paper that read the results. You were carrying them around hoping to know when the time would be right.

The girls gather around Harriet, all of them smiling which only makes you grin wider when their eyes widen and the three look at you in cue. "Oh my God!" Sonya squeals before moving to you and hugging you.

"Just keep it a secret for a few, I haven't told him yet," you say and she pulls away.

"Right. Of course. Newt should be the first to know anyway" Sonya says as she pushes her hair back and tries to act normal. "I'm so happy for you guys! It's like everything starts getting normal around here."

"Life wise anyway" Brenda says as she looks at you. "How do you plan on telling him?"

"I'm not sure…" you admit. "but I have to do it soon. Gally is going to bring his moonshine any minute now and I can't find an excuse to neglect it" you point out and just in cue Gally walks to the clearing.

"Leave that up to me" Brenda says as she stands up and pats your shoulder before walking towards the boy. You eye her curiously and you smile at how nice Gally was around Brenda, not like he wasn't nice with the others, but he smiled and laughed quite often. Brenda puts her hand on his shoulder and you look at Sonya and Harriet.

"We are as clueless as you are" Harriet says and you laugh.

Time goes by and you are all eating and laughing. The groups have gotten together and now you were all closer to the bonfire. Gally was around handing over his moonshine and Brenda helped. After everyone had their drink, Brenda spoke, "I know we have done our own bonfires before," she begins, "but this one is different for some of us. To some this is a reminder of how we bonded" she looks at you and you look at Newt who smiles. "For others, it's a reminder that no matter what, we have fun with the people closest to us, our new family" she raises her glass. "For our family" she says and her eyes widen at you and you shake your head before you feel Sonya's hand shoving you slightly, so you stand, holding your own moonshine.

"For our family," your knees feel like giving up on you from how nervous you felt. "For the one that we found..." you trail off. Your heart was beating wildly against your chest, hearing the thuds in your ear. "And for the ones on the way" you say and place a hand on your stomach, your eyes glued to Newt whose eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then, there was silence for a few seconds.

"No way!" Frypan is the first to get it, a huge smile on his lips, Minho eyes him like if he was crazy.

"Am I missing something here? Secret conversation?" You eye the girls and they are laughing at how clueless the boys were after Minho's words.

"Dude, come on! Y/N is going to have a baby!" Frypan pushes Minho before his smile fades for a moment and looks at you. "At least that's what I took as a hint…?"

You laugh nervously and you eye Newt whose mind seems to be lost in the maze, everyone is looking at you waiting for the confirmation. "Newt, we…" your words feel jumbled up, "You are going to be a dad" you say and everyone starts cheering around. Newt's eyes go wide open as he processes the information, everyone is patting his back and congratulating him but he was motionless. They come to you as well, and even if you are smiling and saying thanks, your eyes were glued to your boyfriend.

Everyone started to drink and cheer, except Newt who was looking down at his drink, your mood was slowly dropping, but you found some courage to walk to him after a few minutes. "You alright?" You ask as you sit next to him against a log.

Your voice breaks him out of his trance and he looks at you before nodding his head, "Yeah, just... wrapping my head around what you just said…"

"I know it's a lot to get around with...I still don't believe it…" you say.

"I should be more excited...and I am, trust me...but I can't help but think…"

"Newt, I know we never-"

"It's not that" he shakes his head and looks at you. "Not the slightest. I might not have said it, but after everything started to settle down, I started to think about us...our future" he says and takes your hand in his. "I thought so many things and you were always there, but…"

"But?" You were expecting the worst.

"Y/N, I don't have anything to offer to you, or the baby," you frown as you watch him play with your fingers. "Not now, anyway. This place is being built from scraps.."

"Newt, I don't know what you mean by that…" your free hand goes up to his hair, running your fingers through it.

"We have a home now, but... We are still getting used to this place, we don't have all the supplies, the equipment…"

"We do this as it goes, like Thomas does" you say to make him smile, which he chuckles at.

"I know" he continues to play with your fingers avoiding your gaze. You could tell he wasn’t at all convinced, so you tighten your fingers around his.

"Hey," you call. "Talk to me…" You try to meet his gaze, but it was dropped to your fingers.

"I-" he pauses. "I am happy, I don't want you to think I am not" he finally meets your eyes. "Having everything with you...Just makes this place way better" he smiles. "And having a little girl just like you" he cups your face with one hand and kisses your lips. "Who else can say they survived what we have and have a family" he says playfully and you grin. "But bringing our baby to this...place, this world…" he confesses, his fingers running nervously on his lips.

"Newt, I know…" you assure him.

"I don't want them to go through what we did, Y/N…" he admits. "I don't want them to live in a world where they could be chased for being healthy, or feel cursed because they are not immune to the Flare like I was."

"I'm just as scared and I will work on a cure now more than ever...but we can't start worrying like this…" you take his hand and place it on your stomach. "We will figure it out like we always do, together" he is looking at your stomach, his concerned features softening.

You can see his body relaxing, his thumb moving soothingly on its place on your stomach. "There is a little boy or girl growing right there and it's ours…"

"I know you'll do anything for them…" you assure him. You felt like Newt had to be reassured, and you could understand where he came from. He has overcome so much to get where he is now, from the dark places of his mind to what was now his new life. He was doubting himself, to not being able to provide your baby with the best, but what was that here in the Safe Haven? The simplest thing you had them already. You were all healthy, you had a home, food, friends...You still had time to get used to the idea and get adjusted at the thought that soon it was going to be more than just the two of you.

The Safe Haven has provided you with everything you needed for a basic life, and every now and then as you went to the remains of the city you tried to bring something that would help. Jorge and Brenda were working with technology along with some of the other Gladers from other groups. It was true, this place was being brought up by remains of what once was the Last City, but it was getting close to what you once imagined it would turn to.

"I love you, princess…" he pulls you in and gives you a kiss, the type he holds his breath and let's go of it softly through his nostrils, making it last. "I'm sorry for not acting like you probably wanted me to…"

"I get it. It's a lot to take in. I feel the same way" you admit. "I was so scared of what you would say" you pause. "But we have gone through so many things together that I don't think a baby will be the exception" you voice.

"It scares me to death to be quite honest" he says with a smirk. "I'm trying my best to be optimistic here, I am" he paused. "I'm happy to start a family with you, but just the thought of what could happen… This place is not ready for a baby…"

"I know...but we have time. We will know…" he is staring at you lovingly, smiling.

"Congratulations!" Thomas joins you with Frypan, sitting right besides you.

"Took you long enough" Minho says as he steps in.

In the deepest part of your head, you were somewhat disappointed that the boys seemed to be more excited about it then Newt. Yes, the blonde was scared of the what ifs and the possibilities and so were you, yet something told you that he wasn't very wrapped around the idea of it and his mind was only repeating the bad scenarios.

"Shut up, Minho" Newt says, but the boy only grins.

"I am going to have a little helping hand in the kitchen in a few months" Fry says.

"I could use the help patrolling" Thomas and Vince have established a guard in the island. Not like much happened, you knew everyone and they all went by the rules set, but it gave you the sense of feeling that if anything were to happen, you'd be ready.

"You are all doing bloody plans without the baby even being born" Newt says.

"Don't look at me I haven't said anything," Minho says. "It'd be nice if it has Y/N's genes though. No offense."

"Well that baby wasn't done just by me, Minho, so be ready" you say playfully.

"I don't need to know the whole thing so if you can skip the lesson" Minho says.

"Newt, you alright?" Thomas calls out and you look behind you at your boyfriend.

"Yeah, just, thinking…" you frown. "Just give me some time, that's all" he admits and smiles, placing his hand on your belly and looms up at you, something told you he will grow to the idea of it soon.

"So Y/N, can't drink with us now, so let's drink for her" Minho raises his cup and Fry cheers, shoving Newt playfully.

"To our baby, I guess" he says with a shrug.

"Our?" Minho questions.

"Not ours you slinthead" Newt reaches to try to smack the back of Minho's head playfully. "Ours" he looks down at you and you smile softly.

"It's the baby from our Glade anyway" Thomas says. "I'm happy for the two of you" he gives your arm a soft squeeze and you nod your head.

"So, when is it too soon to start thinking of names?" Fry asks and the boys look at you.

"How the hell should I bloody know?" Newt asks after sipping on his cup making the boys chuckle.

Thomas eyes you as the guys talk to each other, and his eyebrows furrow in question. You shake your head and do a small wave with your hand to tell him that you will talk to him later. If someone could help you understand what was going through Newt's mind was Thomas, or Minho, but mostly Thomas. Newt seems to trust him more for a few things.

Now it was a matter to wait and see how things went. At least it was out there that you were expecting, and Newt knew. Thing now was, how everything was going to start working after these news…

#newt tmr #newt tmr imagine #newt tmr imagines #the maze runner imagines #the maze runner imagine #newt imagine #post!wicked newt #post!wicked newt imagine #the death cure imagine #tmr newt imagine #tmr newt imagines #(mine)#the maze runner

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rwdestuffs · 3 years

Text

Taiyang, and paints.

Okay, I think this is a bit overdue.

I don’t hate Tai anymore. If anything, I’m more… disappointed by him.

The writers openly stated that they stiffed Yang on screentime back in Volume 4 because watching her recover would be “boring” or some bullshit like that.

Now, this also had the unfortunate downside of stiffing Taiyang on screentime as well.

Now, in Volume 1, we had nothing to really go off of. At best, we knew Tai was a teacher, and that he’d object to his daughters being surrounded by a lot of boys their age at what basically amounted to a slumber party. Andthat was it. Some generic dad™ stuff. Not a whole lot to go off of.

But if anything, this paints Tai as a generic dad™ with the generic dad™ tropes.

In Volume 2, we get him sending Zwei through the mail and this line from Yang:

And now we had some Taiyang backstory. We know that he was depressed by his first wife leaving and his second wife dying. Now, putting aside the age difference between Ruby and Yang implying that Tai didn’t grieve about Raven for that long which kinda indicates that Tai probably didn’t actually care for her, this paints a different picture from volume 1.

Namely, he is a dad who is struggling to keep everything together, and managed to raise two kids while suffering through all that.

Then Volume 3 comes around, and the most we get is him bringing Ruby breakfast when she wakes up. There’s not much to go off of here, but it does paint Tai as a caring father.

Then… Volume 4. Those of you who know me from my main blog know my… thoughts and feelings on Volume 4.

Simply put, Tai calling the manifestation of his daughter’s soul a “temper tantrum” didn’t sit right with me. His criticisms honestly felt like it would be as if someone had zero context as to how and why Yang lost her arm (which kinda implies that Yang didn’t open up to him about it which is a whole other can of worms), and the brain cells joke felt forced. If that was really how they functioned, then you’d think that Yang would have fired back with something just as scathing. Instead, she hesitates. As if she is processing what he just said. And her laugh felt… forced. If Tai did anything this volume, he just kinda only showed how much of a disconnect he has with Yang. He also inadvertently guilts Yang into putting on the arm before she’s ready. And that moment is the one where he openly says that he wants to go out and look for Ruby, so that’s a thing.

Not to mention that he very much makes his support conditional on Yang “no longer being a downer anymore” which is… Kinda horrible, when you really think about it.

In short: Volume 4 painted a vastly different picture of Tai than the previous three volumes. And tbh, I think this is where my disdain of the character started.

Volume 5 had… this line:

So once again, the first three volumes have a vastly different picture than what our newer volumes are painting of Tai. If anything, Taiyang feels like the writers said “Y’know what?- Yang doesn’t have enough angst. Let’s give her even more by making her dad crappy too!”

Taiyang isn’t exactly being painted as a “struggling but still kind and caring” father anymore, he’s being painted as a deeply flawed and a major failure to his kids (or at least, Yang. We don’t really know Ruby’s feelings on him). Which, while not inherently a bad thing, it becomes a bad thing when the narrative refuses to actually acknowledge it as a bad thing.

Volume 5′d ending also doesn’t help when we see this:

Instead of teaching the next generation, or helping out in Vale, or doing… anything that could be seen as “productive”, the next time we see Taiyang, while his kids are out there risking their lives to save the fucking world, is him gardening. I’m not sure why they couldn’t have him doing something like be in a classroom teaching or making a lesson plan instead of this, but it just kinda implies that Tai… doesn’t want to, or is unable to fight to save the world. His kids are far more selfless and heroic than he is.

Now, credit where it’s due: Volume 7 has little-to no mention of him, so it’s hard to dislike Taiyang there. If anything, there is no additional paints being added to him then.

Now, in the middle of Volume 8, we only really see him when Ruby’s broadcast is going out.

Like… Tai. Tai. You opted out of going with Yang to chase after Ruby. You decided that gardening was a bigger priority than making sure that your daughter would be safe when the only adult they’d be around would be the walking bad luck charm. This scene doesn’t really do anything for me. If anything, it kinda makes it look like Tai is playing favorites. Yang can go out and risk her life and shit, confront her mother, and be berated, but the moment Ruby’s on the TV, he breaks down.

There’s a lot of ways to interpret this scene though. We could also think of this as him wanting to see his kids again, but… He’s still the one who opted out of joining Yang to chase after Ruby. He kinda brought that on himself.

Another interpretation could be his regret at not going with Yang, but that’s not well-conveyed if that‘s the case.

If anything, this scene does one thing: It proves that Zwei is a therapy dog for the household.

In short: Taiyang is a disappointment. He had a lot of paints as a struggling and suffering dad who was doing his best to raise his kids right, and then as we got to know him more, we ended up finding out that not only was that really far off, but that he basically foisted the job of raising his kids on other people. If him simply “trying” is enough for everyone to forgive him for his poor parenting, then that should be all Raven has to do as well. But we all know that’s not the case. Everyone gets on Raven’s case for not being around to raise her kid, but everyone praises Tai for being around to not raise his kids.

So if anything, it’s Taiyang’s stans that are the really infuriating part. Tai himself is just… disappointing.

#rwde #rwby criticism #taiyang crit

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atmilliways · 3 years

Text

On the 2nd day of Dethmas this writer gives to thee…

Dec 14 - Kissing under the mistletoe (or office party shenanigans)

Charles gets roped into the role of Santa Clause at the holiday office party.

Charles/Pickles

The dreaded Dethklok Inc. office Christmas party was coming up—dreaded not by the band or most of the employees, who typically had a blast, but by the CFO who had to arrange and organize everything before and after, up to and including the inevitable handful of resulting funeral arrangements.

Charles was looking forward to it even less than usual, because the band had thrown an absolute shitfit to get him to agree to play Santa this year. He didn’t know why they wanted him to do this. The party didn’t even normally have a Santa. His first thought was that it was Toki’s idea, but on second thought Toki tended to lack the charisma to get the rest of the guys to throw in with him on niche interests like that.

But fine. Whatever. He’d agreed to do it once, and next year he could simply point to whatever came of it this year as an argument against repeating the experience.

He kept telling himself that right up until donning the red and white Santa suit, the iconic hat, and the fake beard. (The damn thing was so big that practically all he could see of his own face in the mirror were his eyes. At least they were letting him keep his glasses.) Then he took his seat in a throne-like chair that had been special ordered for the occasion, specially decorated with carvings of presents, the most unsettling depictions of Christmas elves that he’d ever seen, and skulls with real candles balanced on them, lit and already beginning to dribble red and black wax . . . and immediately felt that somewhere in life he must have made a grave, grave mistake to have ended up here.

The band took the stage in the center of the hall, half the room away from where Charles sat, and went into a jumbled “Merry Christmas, go fuck yourselves!” sort of speech. He mostly tuned it out until—

“And hey, errybody,” Pickles slurred into his mic, “don’t ferget ta sit on Santa’s lap and tell ‘im what you want fer Christmas!”

That had not been part of the discussion, let alone the agreement, but at this point what was he going to do about it? Besides hope that grown men and women hired for their professional abilities would have no interest in sitting on the lap of the man who signed their paychecks.

“You can’t have a pony,” Charles said flatly. “There isn’t space for one in the employee barracks, and even if there were it would be both impractical and unsanitary.”

The Klokateer perched on his lap, crushing the feeling out of his legs, tittered and took another sip of his holiday punch through a straw poked up under his mask. “Oo-kay Mr. Grinchy-claus, no pony for me then. Aren’tcha going to say ‘ho ho ho, Merry Christmas’?”

“Ho ho ho. Now go away.”

Laughing drunkenly, the man lurched up and made his way off the Santa podium to get a refill of punch. The next Klokateer in line had an Online Division pin on one shoulder and a spiked eggnog in her hand. Charles braced himself for yet another request for fewer blocks on searching for porn using company computers.

“Hey look, it’sch Schanty Clausche!”

Charles grimaced behind his beard. “Hello, Murderface.”

The first of the boys to visit him, Murderface seemed to be in unusually high spirits. His ass landed on Charles’ knees like a ton of bricks. “Wow,” he crooned with exaggerated delight, “Schanta really does know all the namesch of the good little boysch and girlsch!”

“Very funny. Would you mind telling me whose idea this was?”

The bassist shook his head. “Hey man, I’m not here to narc on my bandmatesch, I’m here to tell Schanta what I want for Chrischtmasch. ”

“Alright. Fine. What would you like for Christmas.”

Murderface looked around furtively, then leaned in and whispered, “A dischguische kit.”

“A . . . disguise kit.”

“Yeah! I’m tired of being mobbed whenever I go out in public, scho I need it. For camouflasche. ”

Charles couldn’t remember a single incident of a fan mob forming for just Murderface; it only ever seemed to happen when one or more of the other band members were with him, though there were probably a few people who did wander up and ask for an autograph. There had been one unfortunately memorable band meeting a few months ago where Murderface had bragged about someone wanting to touch his penis for good luck, pleased at the recognition but at the same time calling said fan an ‘incredibly fucking gay regular jackoff.’

“I’ll, ah, make sure that’s added to the list,” Charles assured him, and breathed a sigh of relief when Murderface nodded in satisfaction and stood to leave.

“Hey, knock knock.”

Charles sighed from the depths of his soul at this second Dethklok visitation. “Who’s there.”

“Nathan Explosion,” said Nathan Explosion, dropping unceremoniously onto his lap.

Luckily, the beard hid Charles’ wince at the impact. He was probably going to have a lot of weird leg bruises tomorrow. “Nathan Explosion who.”

“Nathan Explosion, here to tell you you’re the party ho ho ho! ” Nathan broke into riotous laughter and clapped Charles good-naturedly on the back, causing him to accidentally inhale a mouthful of fake beard.

After a moment to catch his breath, Charles nodded along. “Very amusing. What would you, ah, like for Christmas, Nathan?”

“I need new pants.”

Well, that was unexpectedly straightforward. “New pants. You got it.”

“One hundred pairs. Exactly one hundred.”

“Okay.”

“Just, uh. A couple inches bigger in the waist. For the holiday weight that I am definitely going to lose in January.”

He couldn’t feel his legs; this was not the time to point out that Nathan wouldn’t have time to wear all one hundred pairs of new pants between December 25th and the start of January, nor that January as a deadline for such a drastic fitness undertaking was probably an unrealistic deadline.

“That’s fine, Nathan. One hundred pairs of pants. I’ll make sure, the, ah, elves get the message.” Maybe he would throw in some math flash cards while he was at it.

Toki weighed less than the first two, but was unfortunately so excited that he landed on Charles’ lap hard . Definitely, definitely going to have bruises.

“God Jul, Charles —I means Santa!” the guitarist chirped, bright-eyed and swaying slightly. Charles fervently hoped he wasn’t about to throw up; he didn’t even think being covered in vomit would do much to get him out of this holiday circle of hell. “Merries Christmas!!”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Toki. What do you, ah, want to ask Santa for this year?”

He didn’t have a watch, but he estimated that Toki’s list, plus miscellaneous excited chatter, took at least half an hour and mentioned many things he knew for a fact that Toki already owned.

“Eeuyghh, looks, it ams everys-ones favorites butler,” Skwisgaar said, then folded himself gracefully into a sitting position. After an hour or two of being sat on like this and having plenty to compare it to, Charles wondered if the man was eating enough.

This was in spite of the fact that Skwisgaar was toting around a small plate loaded with various cheeses, fruit, and greasy finger sausages skewered on toothpicks. Party food. To Charles, who hadn’t realized that this gig would take so long and therefore hadn’t eaten in advance, it smelled wonderful.

The Swede must have noticed him eyeing it, or perhaps heard the growl of his stomach over the noise of the surrounding party somehow, because he smirked and held it out in offering. “Pickle says for you to haves this. Gots to keep yous strengths up, you knows.”

Pickles, Charles noted as he balanced the plate off to one side on one of the less obvious and candle-less Christmas skulls. He also pulled one of the sausages free of its toothpick and reached under the beard to jam it in his mouth. Still warm.

“Thank you, Skwisgaar,” he said once he’d finished chewing. “Now, what can I get for you? Ah, as Santa. Ho ho.”

“Everyones know it ams three ‘ho’s, dildo.” Skwisgaar steepled his fingers. “But I woulds like five ins mine room to enjoy ons the Christmas morning. You know the kinds I likes?”

Charles didn’t know what he’d expected. “It’s my job to know, so . . . yes.”

“Greats.” The guitarist patted him on the shoulder of his Santa suit. “Glads that ams sorted outs. Keeps up that good works, yous.”

Then he got up and wandered away, leaving Charles to realize that he hadn’t had a chance to ask him who was behind this whole Santa idea.

Charles finished the plate of food before Pickles made an appearance. He also realized that he could persuade his increasingly inebriated employees to bring him more food, and also drinks, by threatening them with cleanup duty after the party. (He was not in a generous mood; the ones that tried to weasel out of it at first would get cleanup duty regardless of whether they eventually caved or not.) There was no way to escape the alcohol content in the drinks—even when he asked for water it came spiked with vodka or peppermint schnapps, because everyone wanted to see the company’s CFO hammered.

At least they knew better than to roofie him, because Charles would have them killed.

He saw Pickles coming from a mile away. Maybe it was because Charles knew that once all of Dethklok had a chance to visit with “Santa Clause” he would be allowed to escape this torment; maybe it was because he really wanted to know if Pickles was, indeed, the mastermind behind this whole thing; and maybe it was just a tiny bit because he was annoyed the drummer had forgotten to wander over earlier.

But being annoyed at any of the guys was a nonstarter. Putting up with their antics was just part of the job.

“Heeeeeeeeeeey,” Pickles greeted him as he swayed his way over and plopped onto Charles’ lap. Unlike everyone else who had visited Santa this evening, he didn’t stick to perching closer to Charles’ knees but scooted in as close as he could until they were practically nose to nose. Mingled notes of every kind of booze available at the party wafted the short distance from the drummer’s mouth (and shirt, and hands, and dreads), until all Charles could smell was Pickles. “Lookin’ hot in that suit, dood. Is the temp in here okay? Gettin’ a little warm in there?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Charles said, trying not to be too aware that Pickles seemed incapable of sitting still and his ass was rubbing against . . . things. “Ah. Merry Christmas.”

Pickles snickered. “Did Nat’en make that ho joke?”

No one could see for the beard that Charles’ lips twitched toward a smile at that. “Yes, he did.”

“‘M glad yer not a ho, Charlie,” Pickles slurred affectionately. “A'least, not no much'a one. That’d be a bummer.”

“Ah . . . okay.” He didn’t know what to make of that, or the continuing subtle lap dance, so he said, “What would you like for Christmas this year, Pickles?”

“Weeeeell. . . .” Grinning, Pickles waggles his double-pierced eyebrows. It seems like he’s trying to be suggestive, but Charles has no idea what that’s supposed to suggest. The drummer leaned even closer, lips brushing against Charles’ ear as he murmurs, “I kinda already got my present right in front’a me, chief. Just gotta unwrap it.”

All of this was sending shivers and goosebumps down Charles’ spine under the (admittedly warm) Santa suit, but for heaven’s sake, it was just Pickles. When wasted, which he was more often than not, man oscillated between being a destructive drunk and clingy one. Apparently tonight it was . . . very much so the latter. Not a good time to ask about the Santa plot, really.

He had dealt with this before, just not with Pickles literally draped over and inconspicuously grinding on him. Come on, Offdensen, pull it together . Do not get a boner at the holiday office party. No matter how long it’s been!

“Well, ah, sounds like you’re all taken care of then,” Charles hazarded. “All that’s left to do is, ah, enjoy the party. Why don’t you go do that.”

Pickles chuckled, a low, sultry sound that just made the situation even more difficult. “Workin’ on it dood, I’m workin’ on it.” He shifted thoughtfully again, then bit his lip through a grin. “And it feels like we’re gettin’ there, huh chief?”

“I. Ah, what?” At least the big fake beard was concealing his blush better than he’d been able to contain his body’s mounting interest in the increasingly distracting ass squirming around on top of him. This is a public place , he wanted to protest, but didn’t want to risk pointing out something that might be completely unintentional. After all, it was Pickles , who did this sort of thing fairly regularly.

But the next murmured words out of Pickles’ mouth stopped every single one of Charles’ thoughts in their tracks.

“Fuck, even in this stupid suit yer sexy. How d’you do that?” A brief nip, teeth closing and tugging on Charles’ earlobe before releasing with a soft wet pop .

Nothing but overwhelmed static on the other side of that ear; the quiet gasp was completely involuntary.

“C’mon Charlie,” Pickles all but whined, “you don’t have to do this anymore. Jest call it a night and meet me in the bathroom or somethin’, okie?”

The amazing thing, Charles thought distantly, was that from a distance, it wouldn’t look like anything was happening. Just a grown man, swaying drunk off his ass, sitting on Santa’s lap to whisper what he wanted for Christmas. Regular office holiday party shenanigans for a laugh. But under the surface, Charles was starting to feel like a shaken champagne bottle.

“You, ah,” he managed. “You do realize that you, ah, seem to be prepositioning me for, ah. Sex?”

Pickles leaned into him with a laugh. “Like I said, dood, that’s what I’m tryin’ ta do. Fer like, fuckin’ forever. For a smart guy you can be pretty stupid, y’know that?”

“Ah.” Charles shifted awkwardly and nearly choked when Pickles very pointedly pushed into it at the exact right moment. “There’s . . . a chance I’ve been told that before,” he hedged, already vowing to himself that he would never admit how many times. This isn’t something he ever would have looked for, but mistaking Pickles hitting on him for god only knew how long for just being an affectionate drunk? That was pretty fucking funny if you thought about it, and he'd consumed just enough alcohol so far to really give it some very serious thought.

And . . . his job was to keep everyone in the band happy.

“So, ah. There are several bathrooms off this hall. . . . Which one did you have in mind?”

#metalocalypse #metalocalypse fanfic #chuckles #12 days of dethmas

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bookandcranny · 4 years

Text

If You can Change Your Tune

The interloper arrives in a rented moving van, the same sort as all the ones before.

“Are you sure about this?” her friend asks as they pull up to the house. “I know you’ve always had a thing for fixer-uppers but this place might be beyond saving.”

Even as she unlocks the front door the wind whistles a note of warning through its rickety frame. The floorboards beneath their feet crackle and moan at the intrusion.

“All it needs is a little love,” the interloper retorts. Her name is Ann. I remember her from the showing, a woman of insufferably good cheer walking room to room with the equally annoying realtor of the week, a dopey smile hanging from her lips.

I didn’t think much of it at the time. People like her come around from time to time with aspirations in their heads of moving into the rural countryside to rehabilitate my thickets into sprawling gardens or write the next great American novel from within my historic walls. Seeing the reality of the place in person was usually enough to convince them to chase their fantasies elsewhere. However, it appears this particular happy-go-lucky thorn in my side needs a bit more work to dislodge.

“Are you sure you’re not in over your head?” the other one asks. I try to guess at their relationship. Friend? Sister? A lover? I’m sick to death of couples.

“It’s a little late for me to back out now,” Ann laughs, twirling the keys around her finger. “Don’t worry, Nick’s bringing his crew over tomorrow to start on the repairs. She’s a project but the foundation’s sound. Next time you see this place she’ll be a real beauty.”

“’She’?”

“Yeah, you know, like how people call cars or boats a she.” She climbs the stairs and runs her hand along the dusty banister. I think of splinters— with luck maybe she’ll get tetanus- but nothing comes of it.

The house is my body. Two stories, twelve rooms not including the attic, an old-fashioned spiral staircase, and me, the greatest antique of all, left to rot. Once upon a time a family used to live here: a mother and father, a veritable litter of hyperactive young children, uncles and aunts and cousins who would stay with them some summers and during Christmastime, and the wizened pale face of a grandfather who watched over them from above the mantle. It was all very precious, very southern hospitality, very postcard perfect. All very gone. Not even their ghosts remained; just me, and all the better for it.

Chesterfield is the name of the county as well as the nearest town, though from what I understand that’s using the term lightly. Most folks local to the area know better than to disturb me, but sometimes they get bold. Bored teenagers mostly, or suited vultures looking to see if there’s any profit to be squeezed from the property. In its heyday, the house was probably a sight to behold, but I wouldn’t know much about that. Memories of my life, if ever I truly lived, are slippery like oil on the water’s surface, impossible to grasp.

Though without eyes or ears or a mind to make use of them, I can “see” through my many windows— if eyes are the windows to the soul, maybe windows are can be eyes to the spirits— and “hear” any sounds that tremble through my frame. I’m grateful for these senses; they help me keep things in order. If someone starts to get a little too cozy with my corridors, and providing the spiders don’t scare them off first, I just slam a few doors, flicker a few lights, and they go running.

The interloper and her extra finish moving in the last of the boxes. She squeezes her arm and gives her a peck on the cheek.

“I’ll send you pics once I’ve got my room set up,” she says.

“Bold of you to think you’ll survive that long. This place is definitely haunted. Do you get cell service out here? I want to call a coroner and tell them to save your spot.”

“I don’t remember making this big a deal when you moved into your first place.”

“It had bed bugs, but it didn’t have ghosts.”

Ann makes a face. “I’ll take my chances with the ghosts.” She puts an arm around her shoulders. “Kim. You’re acting like I’m dropping off the map. You’re the one leaving the country.”

“For two weeks!” Her expression grows tense. “I feel bad leaving you like this. I should’ve been there for you, there was just so much going on.”

“It wouldn’t have changed my mind.”

She sighs dramatically. “No, nothing can, can it? I fear for whoever you end up tricking into marrying you.”

Ann slaps her playfully on the arm. “Do not start on that. Speaking of which, don’t you have a honeymoon to be on? Go on, get.”

Kim puts her hands up in mock surrender and backs out the front door. I raise one of the loose planks on the porch and she trips, just barely evading a tumble down the front steps.

“See? Cursed!”

“Go!” But she’s laughing as she adds, “Thank you for the help. It means a lot, even if Sophie is gonna kill me for keeping you this long.”

“I’ve got time to talk her down.”

The U-haul rumbles away down the dirt road until it’s a muddled blur in my perception and then, finally, gone. I’m alone with the enemy now. More importantly, she is alone with me.

I slam the door. It’s the easiest most classic trick in the book. Ann jumps and looks around. I know what she’s thinking. Just the wind? Or could it be…?

But no, one small act like that won’t be enough to convince her. With a shrug, she returns to the task of moving in. She shuffles around a few boxes in the foyer and starts moving them one by one up to the second floor. All things considered she hasn’t much to move in, but I’m not fooled. Where one intruder appears, more will follow, and bring all their junk and their noise and their petty living problems with them.

All my original furniture was auctioned off in an estate sale. It took place right here on the lawn, and I watched through my windows as they divvied up my family’s belongings, breaking them down into numbers and measures of worth for the masses. For the most part though I didn’t miss it. The absence of clutter made the space feel bigger, and I got used to the emptiness.

The interloper sets up in the master bedroom and unpacks some supplies to give the room a cursory cleaning. The agency normally sent someone over to prepare the place for new residence, but since the last few rounds of movers had come and gone, they hadn’t bothered. If Ann minds, she doesn’t show it, and I have to admit it’s nice to have someone sweep away the dirt and detritus.

After cleaning to her satisfaction, she starts opening boxes with foreign labels and assembling her furniture from strange little kits, turning sheets of instructions over in her hands as she nibbles on a hangnail. The result is a set of cheap-looking geometric furniture that makes her curse as she accidentally attaches the table leg to the chair and the chair leg to the bedframe. Something about watching her work transfixes me. Probably her comical ineptitude.

After she fixes all the furniture she dresses her new bed and starts cluttering her shelves with all kinds of bizarre toys and knickknacks. Among her affects is a paperback book titled “the art of moving in and moving on”. I scoff.

“This is a temporary arrangement. Very temporary, you got it?” I tell her, though I know she can’t hear me. I know this, but it still annoys me. It feels like she’s ignoring me.

The interloper smiles to herself and takes out a black rectangle that she holds up like a camera, though the shape is far too small and thin. She lowers it, considering, and then from yet another box digs out a string of Christmas lights and hangs them up above the bed.

“It’s June,” I say, dumbfounded.

I look at the string of lights and put pressure on one of the bulbs until it bursts. She jumps, but the moment passes. She spends the bulk of the evening fussing with her camera-thing until she falls asleep.

Fine. If she wants to play hardball, I’ll play hardball.

In the morning, the interloper’s camera-thing plays a tune to rouse her. Her waking is both a curse and a blessing, for while I was glad to be free of her active meddling, even as she slept I was never able to completely ignore her presence. I feel her like an itch, like a stubborn pimple forming beneath my skin, and I’m glad to sense her rising if only because it means I can get back to business sooner rather than later.

The water heater and other facilities are still in good condition from the last unfortunate newcomers I drove from my doorstep, which frees her to take a long shower, singing obnoxiously all the while. This, however, is a perfect opportunity for me. When the heat from the shower fogs the chipped bathroom mirror, I brandish my loathing like a pen and write her a message. Granted, precision isn’t my forte, so the words come out a little smeared and crooked, but still the intent is clear as can be.

LEAVE

Ann squints at the streaked mirror. “Love?”

“Are you really that stupid?”

She looks around but, seeing no one, shrugs it off again and starts to brush her teeth. When she ducks her head to spit, I quickly try again.

MINE

“Mina? Who’s Mina?”

I groan. Okay, perhaps a more symbolic approach. I will the mirror to shatter, but just then a loud knocking sounds and Ann runs off in a frenzy before she can see the long crack forming down the center.

“Door’s open!” She calls from the landing as she hurries to finish dressing with one hand and wrangle her hair into a towel with the other.

I try to hold it shut, but despite my efforts, the door is forced open and a parade of half a dozen handymen file into the entryway. As they start setting up, a burly towheaded man breaks from the pack and goes to meet Ann as she’s bounding down the stairs.

“Careful, careful. Don’t put your foot through anything before I’ve even had the chance to bill you.”

“Nick,” Ann says fondly. “If these stairs could handle me, Kim, and the fifty-pound mattress we lugged up there yesterday, I think they’re stable.”

“You gals didn’t have to do all that. I could’ve—“

“It’s fine,” she insists. “You’re helping me out enough as it is.”

“Yeah, well, we’re even for that whole thing at Kim’s wedding now.”

“More than even,” she agreed. “I know this was last minute. Dinner’s on me tonight. I’ll order enough pizza for the entire crew.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You haven’t seen how much Seth can eat.”

Their easy banter disgusts me. Living people are all the same; wandering around with blind optimism or bemoaning every bad turn, blissfully unaware of how little it truly mattered. One wrong step with those tools of theirs and any one of them could be joining me among the shiftless dead. I don’t have any desire for that kind of company so I decide to wait until they’re done with their renovations before I risk trying to scare anyone again.

As it is they hardly need my help. Ann, it turns out, is more than just clueless, she’s a klutz. If that isn’t enough she insists on “helping” right up until she almost shoots herself in the foot with a nail gun. Nick warns her not to try it again but I don’t feel any anger from him. The crew are all familiar with one another and with her. They chat and toss around jokes between tasks; someone puts on music.

The feeling isn’t quite a tangible one, but then neither am I. It’s an energy I struggle to describe, something like wading in a river and being aware of a splash rippling from upstream. Compared to the sharp tang of fear I’m accustomed to, all this amicability is nauseatingly sweet.

Ann beams, and the high arches of her cheeks dimple and flush darkly, round as apples.

“What exactly do you have to be so happy about?” I hiss in her ear.

As much as I hate to admit it though, I can understand why someone like her moved so easily among the crowd. Even when she was getting underfoot, she’s a difficult person to condemn for it. How could anyone begrudge her excitement when it was so abundant? Or her love when it was so freely given?

Growing impatient with it all, I knock a toolbox off the top of a stepladder and send its contents scattering in all directions. It lands hard and the sounds of work, the music and the laughter, all come to an abrupt stop.

“What was that?” someone asks. A worker crouches down underneath the arch of the ladder to collect some of the scattered screws and I, with great satisfaction, tip the thing over on top of him. The damage is little, but it’s enough to get the entire crew good and spooked.

“I didn’t touch it,” the injured handyman insists as he nurses his bruises with an icepack. “It just collapsed.”

“Maybe this place is haunted,” another jokes, but her smile doesn’t quite cover her nervousness.

“Kim said the same thing,” Ann muses to herself. Nick looks at her and she startles, as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud.

“I was wondering how you were able to afford this place, even with the damage.”

“Oh don’t start with all that black cat broken mirror stuff. You see bad omens in everything.”

“And you don’t see red flags until they’re waving right in the face. Not even then,” he accuses. Her guilty expression says there’s some truth to his words. “Tell me honestly, is this house haunted?”

“That’s silly. Of course not.”

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” I demand with frustration.

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” asks the injured worker.

“Thank you!”

Ann hums thoughtfully and looks up at my aged walls, my decrepit ceilings. “The realtor warned me there were rumors about this place. This house has survived fire, flood, and an attempted demolition; somehow nothing was ever able to destroy it, and every person who’s lived here had reported seeing strange things. Objects moving on their own, strange sounds at night.”

Nick leans forward in his seat. “And what did you say when they told you all that?”

“I told her it sounded perfect.”

He puts his head in his hands. “Ann. Mary-Ann Thorne. Tell me you did not buy an actual haunted house. When Kim told me you just up and bought a house on a whim I thought that was crazy enough but this…”

“I didn’t buy a haunted house,” she says. She stood up straight and spread her hands with a dramatic flourish. “I bought a survivor. Houses are like people. They have personalities, they have their own little quirks, their likes and dislikes. Old houses most of all. I could tell as soon as I walked into this place that… well that she had something special. I can’t explain it, I just felt so drawn to her.”

She places her hand on the wall and holds it there. If I were alive I think I would shiver.

“She’s been through a lot, but with some TLC she’s gonna sing, I can feel it.”

“That’s crazy,” Nick says, but she isn’t listening. Not to him. It’s almost as if… almost…

“Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t respond. Of course she doesn’t. I berate myself for even daring to expect something so deluded. However, her little speech seems to encourage the crew, or else they’ve just calmed down enough to put aside their reservations and get back to work.

Watching them I feel… strange. Even when my house had been lived in before I had never really felt so cared for. It’s all ridiculous of course, a blind act of charity sprung from some silly woman’s misguided and misdirected affection. While the workers patch holes and replace crumbling pieces, the interloper sweeps and scrubs, eager to do her part.

Evening falls, and Ann prepares to head into town to pick up dinner.

“The guy on the phone said they don’t deliver to this address for some reason,” she says. “Weird.”

“Why don’t I go,” offers Nick. “I’ve got the truck. There’s more room.”

“Okay,” she reluctantly agrees. “But I’m still buying, clear?”

“Crystal.” There’s a faint air of nervousness wafting from him, I think. I suspect he’s been hoping for an opportunity to get away from me for a while.

The rest of the crew seem mostly recovered from their brief brush with the supernatural. I intend to fix that.

I start by flickering the lights, another classic. Someone gets up stammering about checking the fuse box in the basement, but as he and Nick each go for the doors I slam them both at once, creating a nice echoing effect that rings all through the house.

“Try writing that off as the wind.”

“I got a better idea,” another someone offers up. “How about we all go into town for dinner? It’ll be nice to get out of— it’ll be nice to get out, let the dust settle here.”

“Come on, Ann,” Nick gestures. “We can swing by the bar after. It’ll be fun.”

She hesitates, a strange look on her face, and takes a step back. “You all go ahead. I’m not that hungry.”

“Ann.” He speaks more sternly now, looking something like an older brother with a neat wrinkle of worry taking up residence on his brow. “Come on.”

“I’m fine here, and you’re being silly. If you don’t believe me, bring me back something after you eat and you’ll see that I’m perfectly safe here alone.”

“But you’re not alone,” I whisper, for nobody’s benefit but my own. “What would you say, if you knew. If you really knew.”

“Besides, I’ve already spent the night here once. If something were going to happen, why didn’t it?” She pulls a smirk, puts her hands on her hips. “Maybe it’s just you guys my house doesn’t like.”

Nick huffs an almost-laugh and relents, not entirely satisfied but not looking to argue the point any longer. He tells her to call him right away if anything changes and then he leaves. The workers file out after him, the last of them gingerly shutting the door behind him, so as not to anger me.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” I ask her. My voice, such that it is, takes on a plaintive edge. Pitiful. I correct myself, refocus my aims. “You’ve had plenty of chances to run, and it’s only going to get worse from here on out. You know that, right? You’ve got to know this isn’t just some twenty-four-hour fever. You can’t get rid of me. It’s my house.”

She starts up the stairs. I follow. I have no other choice.

“Are you really this dense? How can you ignore the signs? How can you believe there’s anything here worth salvaging?"

She walks into the bathroom and stares into the cracked mirror.

“What are you doing now?” I complain. “Looking for answers? I couldn’t give them to you if I had them. Or are you just admiring your pretty reflection?” I stroke the mirror’s surface. “Must be nice, to be young and lively. If you leave now, you could have years and years of perfect ignorance, uninterrupted by those pesky reminders of death. You could have a life, and you’re wasting it.”

She touches her fingertips to the cool glass with a mystic look in her dark eyes.

“Mina?” she whispers.

“My name isn’t Mina.”

Or maybe it is. Might as well be, for all I know. I think I must’ve had a name once. Surely there was a word, a simple sound, some collection of syllables that meant I see you. Surely there had been someone to speak it and make it real in their mouth. But how should I know? And if such a person did exist, what does it matter now? I’m not a person anymore, I’m a thing that happened, a thing that’s happening still. I’m a box built to hold my history, filled up to the rafters with hurt and resentment. That’s as close as I get to living. If I could move independent of my dour walls like her, I think, I wouldn’t be wasting my time moldering in the darkness.

Ann shakes her head. “Silly. I’m being silly,” she tells herself. Looking up at the dim light fixed above her she adds, “I should probably check on that fuse box after all.”

She goes back down and opens the door to the basement. She flicks the switch on the wall a few times but that bulb's been long neglected. Even those who swear up and down they don’t fear the fables or superstition became suddenly shy when it comes to probing the deepest depths of this old house. Ann turns, presumably to seek out a flashlight, when her heel catches on one of the repairmen’s screws that had rolled loose. It’s not even my fault this time, technically.

Like some kind of morbid slapstick, her foot shoots out from under her and she stumbles backwards towards the open basement door. It’s a long drop that awaits her, followed by a fast end if she’s lucky. And I know well enough by now that she isn’t.

Without thinking, I push her. Instead of that foresworn drop down the basement stairs, Ann finds herself tripping backwards into the wall instead. She rights herself, takes in a sharp breath, and then releases it with a sigh. She’s dazed but unharmed. I find myself mirroring her relief.

She smiles. “Thank you,” she says.

Then she closes the door and walks away.

That has never happened to me before. Normally, to manifest, to have any direct impact on the physical world, I have to summon up a great deal of anger. That isn’t too hard for me; I’ve been angry a long time. But in that moment, I hadn’t been angry. I think I’d been afraid. For her safety? No, of course not. More likely I’d been worried she would leave behind a ghost and I’d be stuck with her invading my personal space for eternity. Still, I’d never… never done anything like that before. I’d never helped somebody. I suppose I’d assumed it couldn’t be done, even if I wanted to. Ghosts, spirits, malevolent spectral entities or whatever you like to call it, that’s not what we're for. That wasn’t what I did, until I did it.

I become aware of singing coming from the kitchen. The fool is never not singing or humming or whistling something. I know music; it’s not as if I’m totally uncultured. While I have no lungs nor lips to make sound, sometimes on a stormy night the wind whistles through my walls, each creak and moan playing for me the orchestra of slow degradation I’ve come to know well.

This is not that. This is… I don’t know what to do with this. I don’t know the words. Is it too late, I wonder. I can’t. I’m not ready. Oh but if you can give me time, stranger, I think I want to learn your song too.

#my writing #short story #ghosts #haunted house #paranormal romance #lgbt #horror romance #4k words #first person #original fiction

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