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toournextadventure · 3 months

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when you love it

Summary: When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it - Caitlyn Siehl

Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: swearing, injury mention, suggestive themes, blood mention, hurt no comfort (hopeful ending), extreme guilt Pairing: Wenclair x Vampire!Reader

“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty on the charge of murder in the first degree.”

Your fangs caught on your lip as you did your best not to smile. With the slightest turn of your body, you patted your client on the shoulder and congratulated him for getting off on murder. He was guilty as sin. You could practically smell the tainted blood coursing through his veins. It was abysmal; he was a horror to work with. Doubtless he would be murdered before he even left the courthouse.

His money was still just as good as anyone else’s.

The judge continued his usual spiel, the one you personally had heard many times over. Something about understanding the severity of the charges, how one must persevere to become more, to prevent such a situation from occurring again. She was getting much more emotional about the speech, putting more of a motherly spin on it. It was a lovely touch.

It wouldn’t work. But it was lovely.

“Don’t get yourself in too much trouble,” you said once the judge was finished and you could shake your client’s hand.

His smile was sinister. “I’ll be calling on you again.”

You made sure to show your fangs in your own smile. “I’ll be expecting it.”

The man gave you the creeps, more so than most of the clients you represented. Which was precisely why you allowed your shadow to escort him out of the courthouse to the freedom he had unjustly earned. You watched as he left with a smile that betrayed your actual thoughts.

If he called again, your rates would double.

“You did your job masterfully.”

You turned around, watching people continue to mill out of the courtroom. No one was facing you, not even the usual suspects. Even your best friend Detective Faus had already left. There was no one left to talk or discuss the events of the case. A pity.

Maybe it had been another hallucination; they were more frequent this time of year. Sounds of blood spilling, pouring down your throat like the first drink at the bar. The door opening, muffled words, wood splintering. The sounds made themselves known in your mind, drowning out everything else around you.

“Looking for someone in particular?”

No. No, that was no hallucination. You looked down to see a young man no older than 20 - though his spectacular mustache looked a bit old for him - standing beside you. It was no wonder you hadn’t noticed him, he was rather short. With a stunning crop of slicked back raven black hair, he reminded you of someone. Someone you did your best to forget.

“Thank you, mister…,” your voice trailed off.

“Pubert Addams,” he said with a charming smile as he held out his hand toward you. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

A wet gasp-

-a snarl-

-relief-

-pain-

“-A pleasure, Mr. Addams,” you said, grasping his hand as gently as you possibly could. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long while.”

“I believe you knew my sister and her wife in college, did you not?” He asked as he let go of your hand.

A breathy moan-

-airy laughter-

-a warm sigh-

“-Quite a long time ago,” you said, “but yes.”

“Yes, I knew it was you,” he said with a smile that was far too familiar. Eerily so. “Are you free for a short while?” He asked. “I have a proposition for you.”

You sighed and shifted the weight to your good leg. It left an ache that rarely eased, though certainly not for lack of trying. Thanks to the glasses, you were confident your distrust was hidden. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the young Addams boy; he seemed decent enough. You had worked with enough sleazy people to know who to trust and who to be wary of.

There was just the little problem of not wanting anything to do with an Addams.

Though, you supposed you could give the boy the benefit of the doubt. After all, what would it hurt? If he was anything like Wednesday - and it was beyond clear he was - he would love the danger. The thrill of propositioning you would far outweigh the danger of having you near. A brave boy.

Just like his older sister.

“I suppose I have time,” you finally said with a toothy grin. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh, I’m not old enough to drink,” he said quickly as he fell into step beside you. Exactly like his sister.

“A coffee then,” you amended.

He had no objections.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as he walked out of the courtroom with you. The stench of rancid blood filled your senses before you saw the commotion outside. Your client’s body lay sprawled along the steps, his blood flowing from the tips of his fingers; no one dared try to stop the bleeding. At the bottom, the police were shoving the victim’s brother into their cruiser.

“An eye for an eye turns the whole world blind,” Mr. Addams said with a shake of his head.

You didn’t dare hide your smile. “A beautiful sentiment.” You continued to walk past the scene, not looking back to see if Mr. Addams was following.

His footsteps quickened their pace to match yours before he stood beside you once again. It was a short, silent walk to the little cafe you had started to call your own. The barista was a wonderful young girl; she had easily fallen victim to the vampire charm you did your best not to throw around. Though you were a little less careful nowadays, but that was your little secret.

“What can I get for you, sugar?” The young waitress asked once you sat down. She, too, had fallen victim to your supernatural charm.

“A quad?” You asked once Mr. Addams sat across from you at the little table in the corner.

“Heavens no,” he said with his own charming smile, “I’ll take a mocha, thank you.”

“An espresso, darling,” you said with a smile at the waitress.

Her cheeks flushed. “I’ll have it for you in a moment.”

You tried not to mention your surprise at the young Addams going against what his older sister had made seem like tradition. Or perhaps she had changed over the years; it was a possibility she had come to enjoy the sweeter things in life. After all, Enid certainly did, so it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. She always had been a lovestruck fool for Enid.

So were you.

You promptly ignored the thought.

“What is your proposition, Mr. Addams?” You asked as you continued to wait for your drinks.

“Ah, of course,” he said. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “I would like to invite you to a soiree we happen to be hosting.”

“I’m nothing but a stranger to you,” you said simply. “What about me warrants an invitation?”

“My sister and her wife still talk of you,” he said. “Incessantly.” His smile was gentle; genuine. “I believe inviting you would make them happy.”

You didn’t grace that thought with a reply. If they still talked of you, that was their issue. Wednesday was certainly psychotic enough to desire your presence. Enid, also, could certainly be delusional enough. Seeing you again should bring them no sense of joy or peace; if anything, it should cause nightmares.

It didn’t matter that you often found yourself thinking of them in return. When you talked with clients who had a penchant for breaking the law, much like Wednesday. Committing their crimes guiltlessly for one reason or another. There was a difference in that Wednesday always had a good reason - even when you tried to make her believe she didn’t - but that could be easily overlooked when her cold brown eyes appeared in your mind.

And Enid was often seen in the young intern at your firm. Possessing a giddiness that was so often lost in people. Her colourful nails that you had been unable to forbid were like a flash of the past. The only difference was those nails were typing away at a computer instead of leaving scratches along your back. It was difficult, on occasion, to differentiate the two.

The waitress set the drinks on the table, giving you a wink and smile in the process. You smiled back, showcasing your fangs as she turned and walked back to the counter. If Mr. Addams hadn’t accompanied you, you would have flirted with the woman. Flashed a bit of cash, invited her home for a quick drink of your own before sending her back on her way.

You stirred your espresso for no good reason. At least it gave you time to think of your answer. Mr. Addams was gracious enough not to push. A wonderful change of pace from Wednesday, who would push until she regretted it. Which she had. Oh, she had, and you had all suffered for it.

There was no way you could tell Mr. Addams why you wanted to decline his invitation. If you even so much as hinted at the carnage you had caused, there was a high probability he would not only rescind his offer, but paint you as the monster you had already claimed for yourself. With good reason, of course, you hadn’t earned the title by sitting around.

On the other hand, just the mere thought of seeing Enid and Wednesday made your dead heart feel alive again. You had done your best to fill your nights with women. One after the other, never keeping them long enough to even learn their names. Each a new attempt to forget the two women who had taken your heart all those years ago. They never filled the hole; if anything, they made it bigger.

Perhaps…

“When is this little soiree of yours taking place?” You asked with a sigh, finally looking up from your espresso.

Now that smile was identical to his sister’s.

“I’ll fetch you the invitation.”

—---

You stood on the balcony of your apartment. Smoke curled around your fingers as the cigarette rested between them. The heat from the lit end was almost unbearable on your skin; it was a welcome feeling. City lights twinkled around you, creating constellations yet unnamed by the human race. Perhaps one day they would be prominent enough to fit in with the constellations of old.

It was the night before the soiree at the Addams residence. You had done your best to remain in control of your emotions the days leading up to it. Hell, you had even gone so far as to hire a few women just a few hours earlier to keep your thirst in check. You would rather receive a stake to the heart than risk another incident like the one that had created this situation in the first place.

And yet, even with all your preparations, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom that had carved a home into the center of your chest.

The balcony door slid open.

“You coming back, baby?” The woman asked.

It was a shame you didn’t remember her name.

“Come on, baby,” she said, and you felt warm arms wrap around your waist. “I know you want another drink.”

You did. God you did. Just the thought of another drink left your throat searing. You tried to swallow, but all it did was burn like liquid fire trickling down your throat. With a sigh, you lifted the cigarette back to your lips and inhaled. If you were going to be in pain, you may as well finish off your cigarette.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” you said with an exhale that left smoke falling from your lips.

The warmth left your waist as she went back inside, and you heard her talking to… the… other woman. God, you really needed to learn the names of the people you drank from. If anything, it was the least you could do; it was polite. But you didn’t particularly care. All you knew was they weren’t Enid, and they weren’t Wednesday.

You were pathetic.

You took one more drag of your cigarette, feeling the heat burn the skin on your knuckles. The thick smoke left the taste of ash on your tongue and did nothing to ease the scorching pain in your throat. You dropped the cigarette butt to the ground and stepped on it with your heel. You hissed when it singed your heel; you had forgotten you were barefoot.

If you had possessed any sort of soul, you would have felt guilt. There was something tugging on your invisible heart strings, begging you to care about the women you were surrounding yourself with. No, that wasn’t accurate. It wasn’t something tugging at your heart strings; it was two voices that had haunted you for years.

They single handedly ruined your night. With no shame and no clue that they had even done so, they had ruined it. The women around you weren’t the right women. Their skin was soft, but it wasn’t the same. Their freckles were in the wrong spots, and their nails and hair were the wrong colour. Each and every moan was the wrong tone, and these women just weren’t right.

It was a struggle, but by the time the night was over, you had more than gotten your fill. There was no possible way you would still be thirsty by the time you made it to the Addams residence. Though that didn’t stop you from grabbing a blood bag from the fridge and tucking it into your pocket before you left your apartment.

You stopped by the mirror in your hall to make sure you looked alright. It was custom made to not contain any silver, allowing you to see at least a semblance of your reflection. It wasn’t perfect, but it was like looking at someone through water. A little blurry, slightly distorted, but you could tell it was a person.

Your eyes were drawn to the dark scars that weren’t entirely hidden by your shirt collar. The majority of the scars were hidden, but not those. They were a stark contrast on your neck; a stark reminder of your monstrosity. Subconsciously, you lifted your hand to run your fingers over the taut flesh. They still ached.

Teeth ripping through flesh. You could hear the blood pumping from the wounds, pouring out over your hands as you tried desperately to stop the flow. Your own blood cascaded down your throat, erasing any satisfaction you had previously received.

You could still smell the blood. It made your mouth water.

You still wanted more.

You recoiled as if burned. Out of all the times you could have that memory, this wasn’t the optimal day. It didn’t require any consideration before you walked back to the fridge and grabbed a second bag, placing it right beside the first within your jacket. You had one shot; you weren't going to blow it.

It was a beautiful day outside as you approached the Addams mansion. The sky was overcast, almost allowing you to take your glasses off. Not that you would have, but it would have been a nice option to have. Large groups of people made their way up the steps and into the mansion. It truly was a stunning building; you had missed it.

You fell into the back of a group, ensuring you were silent and could walk in unnoticed. Yes, of course someone would notice eventually, but you wanted a chance to settle back into the excessively large house. The smell of the slightly-rotting wood was enough to ease your racing pulse. It smelled like home.

While everyone continued to slowly make their way into the ballroom, you went the opposite direction. Your hand trailed against the walls, maneuvering around each and every item that was hanging. The paintings and knick knacks and more recent looking photos. Some were new, or at least newer than you. They certainly hadn’t been hanging on the wall the last time you had visited.

The idle chatter of the crowd started to fade the further you went.The hallway turned into a slightly larger room filled with framed photos and awards. You let your fingers hover over the nameplates on the awards. Spelling Bee, First Place. A smile tugged at your lips as you moved on. Silver, Figure Skating. Down and down the line, you looked at award after award. There were names underneath, but you didn’t waste your time looking at them.

After the awards were the photos. You picked up the first one with gentle hands; a wedding photo deserved care. It was no surprise to see Wednesday in black and Enid in something so bright it was almost blinding. The image alone had your chest aching. They looked rather happy.

Their happiness didn’t distract you from the scars down the side of Enid’s face. The ones that traveled from the corner of her eyes to her jaw. Based on the colour in the photo, they were freshly healed. You couldn’t see Wednesday’s; she had a black lace wrapped around her wrist. From the look of Enid’s, you could imagine.

You set the frame back down on the table and stepped back. The curiosity had disappeared, quickly replaced with something heavy. With a tight chest, you backed out of the room and made your way to the ballroom with everyone else. The slight limp in your step worsened. A sigh fell from your lips as you had to lean against the wall and reach down to tighten the brace. Your jaw clenched almost painfully as the brace became insufferably tight around your leg, but at least it gave you the ability to stand on your own once again.

Until you were nearly knocked over by children running down the hall.

“Excuse me!” One of them called back. A chorus of the same words were quick to follow as the other children ran after the first.

“Behave!” You froze. “And don’t push people!”

“Yes ma’am!” The children shouted.

If you had known you would have such a visceral reaction just to her voice, you wouldn’t have accepted the invitation. You had no idea your body itself would react to her voice. If you could sweat, you would have been. Your fingers twitched. Don’t turn, your mind told you. Begged, even. Desperate, feral, pathetic.

“Cara mia.” You forced yourself to take a step. “You forgot your shawl upstairs.”

Don’t turn around, your mind said. It was frantic. You forced another step. And another. Each one heavier than the last, as if your body was fighting with your mind. You truly were a fool to accept the invitation, and there wasn’t even a word to describe yourself for actually daring to appear. Stupid. That was the best word.

“Are you a vampire?”

You sighed and took a moment to calm your emotions before looking down. One of the children that had been running around was now standing beside you, looking up at you with bright eyes and a cocked head. It reminded you of- no, you wouldn’t think of that. You turned to face the child and shifted your weight to rest on your good leg.

“I am,” you said with a singular nod of your head. “And you are?”

“Oh,” they said with a smile. A large, wolfish smile. “I’m an Addams.”

You were thankful they couldn’t see your eyes. “Charmed.”

Of course they were an Addams. How could you ever think differently? The Addamses were magnets for trouble, and you didn’t have to know the child to deduct that they were, in fact, trouble. You turned away from them and looked back out into the ballroom.

“My mothers have a picture of you on their nightstand,” the child continued.

You wished they would leave.

“But you have scars, and the person in their picture doesn’t.”

You would have no shame in killing a child.

“My momma has scars too.” It would be simple. “They almost match yours.”

“Don’t harass the guests, dear.”

Or perhaps you would simply kill yourself. It would certainly be less painful than whatever was about to happen. You could hear the echo of your dead heart beating loudly in your ears. Perhaps if you refused to turn around, she would continue walking. Walk right past you and into the crowd, leaving you behind as you so very much deserved.

But she didn’t continue walking as you desperately wished she would. She didn’t move out into the crowd, saying her greetings to the others as was customary. You could barely hear her footsteps at all above the incessant noise that you were wishing would get louder. Drown out all the thoughts and emotions bubbling up inside you.

“We weren’t sure you would come.”

You still refused to turn around. Even when you felt her sidle up next to you, her arm brushing lightly against yours. Oh, her warmth was glorious. You had forgotten just how lovely it was to feel her warming you up. To bring life to your soul in a way that only she was capable of. No amount of women in your bed had ever held a candle to her warmth.

“You look good.” Her voice was impossibly soft against the rising chaos of the soiree.

Growls and screaming echoed in your mind’s ear as you finally made the brave - or stupid - decision to turn your head. If you had thought your anxiety was bad before, you would have been impressed with your anxiety at that moment. The first thing your eyes took notice of were the healed, lightly coloured scars on her jaw.

The scars you had caused.

“You look healthy,” Enid said with a soft smile.

She looked so very grown. That childish glint in her eyes was still present, but she held herself with far more respect. The insecurity had long faded away, much like the scars that continued down her neck. The child was right; you almost matched.

“I fed before arriving,” you said. Your words felt like ash in your mouth. “No need for history to repeat itself.”

“We have more in the kitchen,” she said quickly. “If you need it.”

You opened your coat to show the two bags in the pocket. “I came prepared, thank you.”

She smiled a closed mouth smile and nodded before looking back out at the ballroom. That heavy feeling settled in your chest once again. After so many years, that was all you had to say to her? That you had fed already? Of course, that was probably the one thing she wanted to hear after so long. You were a fool. A damned fool.

“I hope the kids weren’t bothering you,” Enid said. “They get excited when we host gatherings.”

“They seem decent,” you said. Decent?? That’s the best you can come up with? “That one-” you pointed to the one with the bright eyes “-is rather talkative.”

Enid giggled, and for a moment, you felt young again. “Willa says she gets it from me.”

Willa. You could have laughed if it didn’t hurt so bad. Wednesday had always attempted to claim she hated it. Yet it never stopped the lightest blush on her cheeks when you or Enid would use the unassuming nickname. When was the last time you had even heard it?

Come on, Willa, put it down, I’m being serious.

You turned your body ever so slightly. You didn’t want Enid to see the scars creeping down your neck. Her hand brushed against yours. It was shameful how quickly you pulled your hand back, shoving it into your pocket. No good could come from her feeling the shake of your hand, or the scars that hid below the cloth of your clothes.

“Oh, there she is,” Enid said, this time reaching out to grab your arm a little harder than she probably meant to. “Stay right here, I’ll bring her over!”

The moment she left your side, the cold started to crawl back over your skin. It sunk into every vessel, every inch of your body, both inside and out. Attending the soiree was a mistake. A mistake that you couldn’t take back. Just like that night. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. You could leave before they came back and continue your miserable existence as you had been.

But then you saw them together, hand in hand. It was an unexpected thing to see Wednesday practically smiling at Enid. In public, that was. You couldn’t recall a single time she had smiled at anything in public. Yet there she was, walking closer and showing some semblance of physical affection in public. It was stunning. Your heart was almost beating.

Until your eyes landed on all the black lace that you knew covered scars no one could comprehend.

“I told you I saw them,” you heard Enid say as they both approached where you were frozen in place. “And I was right.”

Wednesday looked up at you with those stunning brown eyes. “So you were.”

Your fingers twitched in your pocket. Now that she was so close, you could smell her blood flowing through her veins. No matter how much you swallowed, you couldn’t ease the burn that was rising up your throat. You clenched your jaw tight, ignoring the sting of your fang piercing your lip.

Wednesday!

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? “Hello Wednesday, I’m sorry for nearly draining you while you attempted to prove I wasn’t a monster.” Or even to Enid. “I apologise for trying to kill you when you stopped me from killing our girlfriend.” There was nothing you could say, to either of them, to justify what you had done. What you couldn’t forget.

“I told them you had their picture,” the previous child said as they approached along with the rest of the herd.

For the first time, you were thankful for children.

“So you told our secrets?” Wednesday asked. “You know what happens to those who tell our secrets.”

The old Wednesday would have sounded more intimidating and borderline threatening. Yet, even as her words said one thing, the soft look on her face said another. The children all smiled and tried to hide their laughter as they continued to look up at her.

“You’d better run,” Enid whispered.

Each of the children shared a look before running off, laughter following in their wake. It was almost… cute? Adorable, even? God, you needed to escape this place, you were almost turning soft. You needed to get back to your murderers and criminals, this was turning pathetic.

“As intimidating as ever, my love,” Enid said as she leaned down and placed a soft chaste kiss on Wednesday’s cheek.

It made you sick. The burn in your throat spread, turning into a searing pain in your chest and stomach. All that was left was the tingling in your fingers and legs and you were finished. You wished the inferno would swallow you whole, reducing you to nothing more than ash and bone.

“You seem pale,” Wednesday said.

It seemed you wouldn’t combust soon enough.

“I only arrived out of courtesy,” you said as you stood taller. “Now that I have said my hellos, I must say my goodbyes.”

You tried to act like the looks on Enid’s and Wednesday’s faces didn’t kill you inside. It was like a silver stake to the heart, spreading its carnage down every muscle fiber and blood vessel. After all these years, you had managed to hurt them again within only a few moments. And you didn’t even possess the decency to apologise for the first sleight against them.

“Do you have to?” Enid asked. “You could stay.” Her eyes fell. “We could talk.”

“Did Enid tell you we have more blood in the fridge?” Wednesday asked.

She circled her fingers around her lace-covered wrist.

“I don’t do house calls,” you said. You could hear Wednesday’s pulse over the crowd. “Especially with those I cannot pay penance to.”

And yet, you didn’t make a single move. Against your better wishes, your feet stayed glued to the floor. Each beat of Wednesday’s heart was enough to have your mouth salivating, yet you couldn’t leave. A memory popped into your head of Enid almost seeming disappointed that her blood wasn’t appetising to you. It was a fond memory, one you replayed often enough for it to seem like a core memory of your relationship.

“You could stay,” Enid said.

“We can go somewhere quieter,” Wednesday continued.

You didn’t want to go somewhere quiet, you wanted to go home. You internally scoffed at the word; you didn’t live in a home. It was just a building, with four walls and a new blood bag or two every night. You barely lived in it, instead opting to spend all your time in your office where nothing could remind you of the two women standing in front of you.

They were your home.

“Please?” Enid asked softly. Almost too softly. Even with your enhanced hearing you could barely discern the words over the jazz band that had started playing.

You sighed. Would it truly hurt to spend a few moments with them? To give you some semblance of normalcy that only they could provide? After all, you could see the muscles underneath Enid’s skin. If you truly lost control, surely she could stop you. She had stopped you before.

The scars reminded you of it every day.

“Very well,” you said with a slight nod.

Enid was the one to reach out and grab your hand, pulling it out of its pocket and linking her fingers with yours. Her nails dug into the back of your hand, drawing out a sting that was a welcome distraction. The ache in your throat was ever present as Wednesday walked right beside you while Enid led you out of the ballroom.

The hustle and bustle of the ballroom slowly faded into oblivion as you were led down the corridors of the Addams mansion. You could recall memories from each room you passed. Each with their own story to tell. Stories of stolen kisses, scandalous rendezvous, silent moments with the women you loved, but together and separate.

When Enid stopped in the kitchen, you would have laughed had it been under any other circumstance. It was clear they had the same thoughts on their minds when Enid sat you down and Wednesday retrieved a blood bag from the fridge. She placed it between you and her when she sat opposite you at the table.

How comical.

They both stared at you with unwavering gazes. What was going through their minds, you wondered. Were they feeling the same way you had? Broken, anxious about fucking up, convinced you had blown your chance? Or perhaps they were waiting for you to break and recreate what had happened on that fated night all those years ago.

You sighed when you deduced they wouldn’t speak first.

“You both look well,” you said in a croaky voice that, if they were wise, was indicative of the state of your instincts. Think of something else to say. “Are all those children yours?”

Think of something less ridiculous.

“Yes they are,” Wednesday said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was almost condescending; you loved it.

“Pubert said you’re a lawyer?” Enid asked.

“Defence attorney,” you said with a nod, “yes.”

“Is it, ah, fun?” She asked.

You sighed. If the entire night was going to go along those lines - awkward and uncomfortable, tip toeing around every word - you would rather leave. Not a single positive thing could come from such a conversation. It was talking for talking sake. You all hated small talk, that was something that you knew had never changed, yet there you were, struggling to find any sort of conversation.

“It’s acceptable,” you said before placing both palms on the table. “I believe I really should be getting on.”

You attempted to push yourself up from the seat. Attempted being the key word. It wasn’t often your bad knee would buckle when standing; usually reserved for long nights in your office where you had barely managed to take bathroom breaks. Yet when you pushed yourself up, you felt the strain in your knee. It was a familiar feeling, that weakness before a painful tightness that so often forced you back into your seat.

And it did. Your grip on the table meant nothing as your knee shook for a nanosecond before giving out underneath you. Thankfully the gasp never actually left your lips. You could taste the copper in your mouth as you bit your tongue in an effort to stay silent. In the end, your entire leg trembled.

Enid and Wednesday stood up quickly, knocking their chairs back and watching your every move. You wished they would come to you; you were glad they didn’t. The looks on their faces was terrifying enough. Identical looks to the ones they had had that night.

“Wednesday, put it down,” you said when she refused to remove the knife from her hand.

“Your fears of being a monster are unwarranted,” she said as she gripped the blade tighter. “You wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

She had barely broken the skin before the scent hit you. It had been months since you had fed, and she had broken the floodgates. Everything about her disappeared except for the small drop of blood pooling at the bottom of her hand.

You didn’t feel yourself practically jumping toward her. You didn’t hear her gasp when you ripped the knife from her hand. You didn’t see the look on her face as you licked up the blood on her palm, or when you moved up her hand to bite the pulse point on her wrist.

But you tasted the nectar that flowed through her veins. You felt the strong pulse beneath your lips. You felt the scorching hot blood falling down your chin before you simply couldn’t keep up with the flow. Something vaguely pushed against your neck, but it was little more than a nuisance. All you knew was the blood in your mouth and the warmth on your lips.

Vaguely, you heard something. A scream, a growl, something breaking, you couldn’t tell the difference. It was nothing compared to the relief you were getting. How could you care about something in the outside world when you had such a delicious-

-something solid slammed into your body. The skin underneath your lips vanished, replaced by the cold air around you. When your body stopped rolling, you could feel the aches already starting to form. It didn’t matter. You zeroed in on Wednesday’s wrist again.

You were met with what felt like a truck slamming into your leg. Bones cracked, stretching the tendons and muscles with the new direction they were facing. It wouldn’t hold any weight when you tried to stand up. No matter; that was why you had two legs.

Something large and furry stepped in between you and Wednesday. Nothing about it was familiar in that moment. Instinct told you it was nothing but an obstacle in the way of your feed. It charged, and you swiped. Your fingers clipped something even as you felt its claws rake across your skin.

You tried to stand. Something sharp crossed your chest; the air was cold on your skin. When you stood up again, it was met with similar results. The third attempt got you closer to Wednesday. When something sharp clasped around your shoulder and threw you back to the ground, you stilled.

That hot blood you had gorged yourself on started to feel hot on your neck. Not in it, on it. You opened your mouth to speak and felt the liquid spew from your lips, falling down your face in all directions. Your hand lifted to the side of your neck. Your fingers pushed past the skin and then-exposed muscle.

As you pushed harder on the wounds, doing your best to staunch the flow of blood, the world started to come back to you. Blackness peeled back from your vision. The blurry world started to come into focus along with the sounds that you could finally discern as gasps and growls.

So did the pain.

You were drowning in the blood you had stolen. Your head lolled to the side even as you coughed again, spewing blood into the air like some demented fountain. A werewolf was across the room, hovering over Wednesday even as it transformed back into a person. Back into Enid. Her bare skin was shredded in places.

Wednesday was bleeding out from more than one bite mark.

You had attacked them. Both of them. The women you loved. They were bleeding out. Because of you.

You released the pressure from your neck and felt the blood continue to fall.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. Something wet fell down your cheeks.

“I know,” Wednesday answered just as softly. It was humiliating.

It was lovely.

“Please stay,” Enid said. You looked down to see her reach her hand across the table.

You shouldn’t. You had nearly killed them, had gone into a frenzy that you hadn’t experienced ever again. What if it happened again with them? After all those years, you still loved them. You would never admit to anyone, but you kept their photos on your desk at work. You couldn’t risk hurting them again. Couldn’t risk killing them. You were a monster, and that fact alone was never going to change.

They looked at you expectantly.

For when is a monster not a monster?

You reached forward and placed your hand on top of Enid’s.

Oh, when you love it.

#wenclair x reader #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader #wednesday x enid

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juliaandthephantoms · 1 year

Text

Time for my annual "winning performance according to the official Winning Song Guidelines", aka the Love, Love, Peace, Peace Ranking. This one's gonna be fun.

Get everyone's attention She's literally lying on the floor. Groundbreaking. 0/1

Drums! There has to be drums, +1 for gorgeous topless men and/or a grandmother Nope. Though at least literally every other drummer on stage looked stoked to be there 0/2

Using an old traditional folklore instrument, +1 for an old man, +1 if he has a beard Unless her body counts as an old traditional folklore instrument it's zero points from me 0/3

A violin Would probably be hard to use one with those fingernails anyway but she DOES mention one 0.5/1

Add A DJ who pretends to scratch She scratched the screen a few times I guess? 0/1

Costumes, something that the viewers will notice Her hair was giving me Na'vi vibes 0.5/1

The song is about love or peace I'll give her that 1/1

2/10 not really off to a good start, let's see about the execution

Let the song beginn with passion There was some heavy breathing and I guess you could say she was going for seductive passion? 1/1

Let the wind begin to flow As far as I could tell no wind 0/1

Look into the TV camera It was pretty hard to follow with the camerawork and her eyes looked mostly closed on close ups but I think there was an attempt 1/1

Smile She was smiling after the music was over so 0.5/1

Fill the stage with light The screens above and below her in addition to the flashes made for some interesting lightning design 1/1

Dancers will join us No additional dancers, just Loreen by herself 0/1

Old women baking bread Again no bread this year. As a German I'd walk through fire and trough rain for some but Loreen was too focused on her tattoo 0/1

A man in a hamster wheel Sounded like she was spinning the person she was singing about like a hamster wheel in her head but nothing on stage 0/1

Our hands will touch She probably wanted to touch someone but there was only a screen 0/1

We change the key The chorus picks up a bit so props for that 1/1

It begins to snow No sudden weather changes 0/1

Burning fake piano I'll never get over this. Where is the fire? 0/2

Russian man on skates Russia is still banned from the stage entirely 0/1

Party for everybody Going by the reaction of the crowd during the announcement of the votes I'd say the party was for someone else 0/1

More tricks in the hamster wheel Maybe her tattoo was of a hamster wheel but we'll never know 0/1

End result:

6.5/26

Devastating. The jury should really check the Official Guidelines next year before voting. That's all I can say.

Here's the results for Kalush Orchestra and here's how Måneskin did

#esc23 #esc 2023 #eurovision #eurovision song contest #esc #love love peace peace rating #for disclaimer reasons this post is mostly a joke but this year i'm very salty #maybe I'll do finland too just for fun and because he won according to the votes that actually count in my heart

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subjectnamemissing · 9 months

Text

The first set of duels all involve seeking a return to a comfortable stagnation or projection. The character has left a state that they wish to return to. The second set all involve seeking to reject the current surrounding world for one that matches their desires. The third set of duels is finally closest to the truth of what 'Revolutionizing the world' is - seeking to prove a change exists in the perception of the duelists - that a level of maturity has been reached and the duelist has grown up - but this change only occurs upon the duelist losing the duel. Without the loss all the third duel accomplishes is the completion of a Rotation on the Revolution. The duelists seek ‘adulthood’ in the belief that doing so will grant them the power to continue to exist unchanged even in new circumstances. Revolution has two meanings within the narrative - a break from stagnant conditions or states, and the completion of a cycle that returns to the start - like a carousel’s spin.

I think that the power to Revolutionize the World that all the characters fight for in Revolutionary Girl Utena is primarily a power to change oneself and break free of the eternal revolution offered by Ohtari and embodied by Akio. Part 1/2 - Mikage & the Black Rose Duelists, Saoinji, Miki, and Juri.

Nanami post link

Black Rose

Mikage in the Black Rose arc keeps trying to kill the Rose Bride and win the power of Dios, but he fails every time since every duelist he chooses is attempting to Reject the world and revolutionize it based upon changing other people. A miracle achieved though sacrificing other people - they pull their swords from others and bear the rose crests of others.

Mikage and the duelists are working on an entirely flawed premise - so each duel ends with another corpse in the crematorium and another chick that failed to break their shell and a return to status quo. Each person dueling is attempting to seek a revolution entirely defined by the perceptions or actions of others - Kaene wants Anthy’s judgement of her (perceived or not) gone. Wakaba wants others to look at her as special (especially Saionji). Kozue wants to protect Miki's innocence, but she also keeps wanting to taint it - her sweet love towards her sibling has turned curdled and she also wants to return to the 'Sunlit Garden'- so everyone who can taint it needs to go. Shiori wants to 'Win' over Juri because she can't believe in Juri's feelings in their clash with her abysmal self-worth and she can't accept her own feelings towards Juri. Tsuwabuki wants to be perceived as an adult and grow up already - though he isn't sure what it entails. Keiko wants to know Touga, and perhaps it is a plain desire common to most of Ohtori, but it’s not one that can be fulfilled while she is the lowest girl on the totem pole and Nanomi is in the way. Mikage himself seeks connection but the person he wants to connect to is terminally ill - so in the ultimate conclusion of this theme of rejecting the world he is seeking Eternity in these memories and reliving the past literally - he is a trapped ghost in a burned down building. The one person rejected is the Onion Prince boy whose basal confession is that he believes the problem is in him - not others.

Saionji

Saionji wants his status symbol back and to have something special that his 'friend' Touga doesn't have and Utena confronts him in revenge for her friend Wakaba first and revenge for Anthy's treatment once she is already committed - later episodes make it clear Wakaba still loves Saionji so it is doubtful that she would have wanted the duel in her honor. As Saoinji scoffingly points out - Utena is the archetypical prince protecting the honor of princesses here. Saionji's 'revolution' is related primarily to his status in the system - without Anthy as his rose bride he is no longer special - just an average upperclassman. His second duel is much the same because despite his belief that he has changed - he utterly fails to articulate 'how' and no other character can even notice how or if he is different. He still seeks to possess the Rose Bride as a status symbol of being 'an Adult' and gaining something that designates him as special - most specifically in regard to Touga. He is the only 2nd time duelist that comes without their own Rose Bride. He's not fighting with his own power/strength of will at all. He's repeating lines said by Touga in the first set of duels, Saioinji is an imitation of an imitation, and it's not very surprising he missed the memo on the change in duel format.

But he seems to have found the route start for the process of growing anyways after being beaten again. Refuting Touga in his desire to be like Akio and accurately pointing out the central premise of Ohtari. He repeats with Touga there is no such thing as True Friendship- but it is still evident that his relationship with Touga only improves again after they fail to complete their revolutions on Akio’s stage.

Miki

Miki wants to recapture his “sunlight garden” through Anthy. He is seeking a return to a state which was simple and joyful for him and believes if he can possess Anthy then he can return to that state. Of course, this simple state in his memory doesn't exist. He loses the duels both times because his illusion of how things were was shattered - first by realizing Anthy was cheering for Utena - she was not an empty vessel for his fantasy, second by realizing that both his sister and Anthy had elements of 'adulthood' - he thinks that he is ready to 'get dirty to get what he wants' in regards to maturing his relationship with Anthy and finally the stability and strength to make his place in the world secure. Both he and Kozue wants to have the strength to return to the Sunlight Garden, but only Kozue seems prepared to grab the power to hold the illusion together - in which case she chose an excellent model. Akio is a professional in the art of maintaining an illusion.

Miki ultimately seeks to return to simpler times because he feels estranged in the present - a chick without a home.

The problem is that his Sunlight Garden is a fragile thing since it is only a facade. Kozue seeks to grant her brother the power of 'Revolution' and take him to the 'world of adulthood' but his sword is still a 'child's sword'. Realizing that he can't return to the past he sought the ability to create a comfortable present - but he can't follow-through with the 'adulthood' embodied by Akio and complete his revolution on the carousel. Perhaps his Revolution requires him to stop trying to fit himself to the dichotomy of either a powerful prince ‘who takes what he want’ or an innocent and pure child ‘who has what’s his taken’ since no such thing as a 'pure prince' who exists without subjecting others or getting subjugated. Perhaps hope exists, he does know a friend or two who also don't fit comfortably into the defined archetypes of princess or prince.

Juri

I understand Juri's issue in regard to her personal coffin - but I'm not actually sure the motivations behind her duels with Utena or what she is hoping to achieve. Juri's issue is that she doesn't believe in miracles (Shiori returning her feelings) but she really wants to believe in miracles (She can't give up her feelings for Shiori anyways). Her issue with miracles is "Believe in miracles and they will know your feelings" In this context, her duel with Utena is triggered by Utena telling how her Rose Crest links her to her 'Prince'. The parallel between miracles is the power to bring about connections - Juri challenges Utena to show her proof that her miracle - she will be led to her prince through her ring - is real while the camera focuses straight on Juri's locket - linking the two symbols. Juri believes there is no hope of her feelings or her being accepted if she communicates them to Shiori.

If she wins, she can continue to deny miracles exist while secretly hoping they exist - being engaged to the Rose Bride who is said to grant miracles - quietly locked into believing her feelings can’t be expressed. Losing - she still refuses to say out loud she believes in miracles - but it is still clear she is less hostile to the idea they can happen.

Juri's second duel starts with coercion - her anguish on seeing Shiori's humiliation and obsession with Ruka/Juri is outweighing her anguish on the uncrossable distance between Juri's feelings and Shiori despite their reciprocity. Ruka seems to love Juri and knows Juri loves Shiori and that Shiori can't and won't reciprocate with her issues, Juri loves Shiori but will neither reach out nor give up, Shiori loves Juri but refuses to believe that she is worthy so she must make Juri hate her. Juri and Ruka seem to share the idea - it's fine if they hate me as long as they are free from this toxic debasement that they are trapped in. Juri's growth hinges on accepting she shouldn't sacrifice herself for the sake of Shiori's miracle - love doesn't justify abuse. It is only by losing Shiori’s locket and letting her feelings (and fears) lay bare that Juri can break away in a new direction from the interruption into her cycle instead of a repeat of her past misfortune with Shiori.

It seems that Ruka succeeds in his goal of letting Juri move on from her obsession with Shiori - though to what degree he intended anything is ambiguous since he goes and dies afterwards. Juri can accept letting Shiori leave her locket and accept it doesn’t need to require her suffering to love Shiori. Unrequited (or believed to be) love can be left to grow wistful - instead of a constant thorn in the heart. Juri has been given a direction to go for when she is ready to Revolutionize her world. She can still love Shiori, but she can't keep letting the rose parasite use its venom.

#revolutionary girl utena #proofread later #feel free to add commentary or evidence #feeling very literary analysis today #rgu #RGU meta #Mikage Souji #utena tenjou #juri arisugawa #saionji kyouichi

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bakuhoes-bxtch · 1 year

Text

Warden!Sukuna x Inmate!Reader

Warnings: suicide mentioned (wasnt done), degrading, throat fucking, face slapping, and spitting (ONCE)

wc: 773

Notes: probs pt 1

Lets start off with the basics

You were in jail for something petty…almost

Petty being attempted murder

It didn’t matter, you acted out of self defense but everything was just against you that day

The jury was split and jail was bestowed upon you by some scrawny man who didn’t like how you glared at the man you almost killed…pussy

Jail was hell. It was smelly and 100% not your cup of tea

Fights every other hour, one pair of underwear, less than 10 minutes in a shower, it was everything you didn’t want or need in life

The only thing keeping you going was the warden

Suicide was an option during your first 2 weeks but the wardens visit is what deterred you away from any thoughts

He was tall, had pink hair, gorgeous tattoos, and just mouth watering to put it plain and simple

Basically almost every females wet dream

“Alright ladies you know what time it is,” His booming voice echoed through the cell block

This happened every 2 weeks, the warden checking your cell

Sukuna’s power in general was feared

The amount of power he radiated was overwhelming to say the least

You always found yourself with problems

Girls starting fights with you, hiding contraband in your room the whole 9 yards

You weren’t top in your cell block, however, you could very well easily take that spot

This time you were in the clear (or so you thought) you luckily haven't had a cellmate in a few months

“Congratulations y/n, nothing this time,” Sukuna whispered in your ear. He smirked at your face and rubbed something in his pocket

Your heart instantly dropped to your ass

thanking whatever god that was above. he found something but wasn’t holding you accountable…yet

He finished his search and left, a few girls were taken to solitary confinement

Soon enough you did find yourself in a fight, not swinging first aided you for once and you both were instantly brought to Sukuna’s office

“Couldn’t even wait for me to be settled in could you two?”

Your eyes were set on the floor, the girl next to you already allowing her mouth to run

Sukuna ordered her out immediately, sending her to solitary confinement

You however remained silent completely missing the questions and directions you were given

“I said, who the fuck put a shiv in your fuckin’ room?”

You were stunned but kept quiet

The world had always been against you, and the deep timbre of his voice and the small bit of anger laced in it made your thighs clench shamefully

“You never learn do you”

Next thing you know you’re in solitary confinement, on your knees with your mouth wide open to accommodate Sukunas thick and lengthy cock

Your eyes were glassy and tears were streaming down your face while you let the warden abuse your tight throat

His thrusts were sharp, not allowing any air to come through your mouth or nose for that matter

“Fuck your throat’s the best,” he rasped. “Thats fuckin’ right suck my fuckin cock you slut.”

He pulled you back and grinned devilishly down at you. You followed his cock eager to have it abusing your throat once more only to hear him laugh and slap your face

“You’re a filthy cock drunk whore aren’t you,” Sukuna asked. You whined and opened your mouth.

“Please sir, use me, fuck…please,” you cried.

He wasted no time with picking you up and forcing your head over the edge of the bed, giving him leverage to see his cock bulge deep in your throat

He couldnt resist putting his hand on your throat and stroking it opposite of his thrusts making him groan out, “Fuck, yes. God fuckin’ damn, take my nut you nasty slut.” he hunched forward and jackhammered into your throat, his hand tight on your neck while his balls were slapping your nose giving you the delicious lightheaded feeling

Feeling his cock go deeper in your throat made his head spin, you gagged at the perfect time, practically ripping his orgasm from him, “fuckin’ take it. Good. Fucking. Girl.” he accentuated his final spurts of delicious cum with rough thrusts

He pulled himself out and grinned at the mess of saliva across your face

“Open.” you obeyed and opened your mouth, earning a glob of spit on which you swallowed “good girl.” with a slap to your cheek he tucked his cock into his work pants

“Bad girls get reprimanded, if i have to I’ll put you in here time and time again until you act straight, you got that?”

You nodded your head with a dumb smile and watched as he retreated from the room, a small pep in his step.

lol

part 2

#🍄s thirsty #warden!sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x black reader #sukuna ryomen x black reader #sukuna scenarios #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jjk imagines #jjk smut #jjk sukuna ryoumen #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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1rsoldiersince2012 · 3 months

Text

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3760 (chapter 48)

'screw valentine's day, i want what they have'

but anyway, you're welcome ☺ thoughts, comments are always appreciated <3

48. this might've been just a dream, right?

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He says again, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Robert? What are you doing here?" You manage to say, feeling as if your whole body has gone numb. The kitchen almost starts spinning, and you feel your blood begin to boil.

"I invited Rob, he's a part of the family." Your father says, leaving Matt alone, and comes to stand next to Robert in the kitchen. Rob. Fucking Rob. Now it was only you against them both. Exactly the way it always has been.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, y/n?" Robert asks, eyes targeting Matt, his voice as sweet as honey. You're not gonna get the authority in this house, and he knows it all too well.

"Yeah, that's Matthew Murdock. My boss." You smile wickedly, watching everyone's eyes widen. "Murdock as in Nelson and Murdock attorneys office."

Matt tries to read the room, waiting for somebody to snap, but Robert only shakes his hand, obviously swallowing some other words.

"Your boss? Y/n, what-" your mother begins, but a single glare from your dad is enough to shut her up. The atmosphere changes immediately, and Matt feels like an outsider, as if he himself was sitting as a spectator in a courtroom, a mere watcher with no real influence on the Jury's final decision.

"I'm sorry, mind if I have a few words with my daughter?" Your father says, walking out of the kitchen, sparing all the pleasantries. He doesn't need to turn back and wait for you because he knows you'll follow.

"Excuse me." You mutter, walking past Matt. He asks for someone to show a way to the bathroom, so he could listen to you and your father talk without completely blanking out in front of others. It was unfair, cheating, using his powers for not a great cause, but he just couldn't be left out in a new environment. Not when it was you and him against the world.

"What? What boss? Mind explaining something to your father?" Harold closes the doors of his bedroom, not shouting or smashing things. But this calmness was always scarier than anger.

"What's there to explain? I work elsewhere now." You sit on the bed, unfazed.

"How long?"

"Two months or so."

"Why?" Yeah, this was the spitting image of a police interrogation.

"I got tired of kissing asses, especially Benowitz's." You simply shrug, holding strong eye contact.

"You had the world under your feet there and left for what? What does he even pay you?" Apparently one look was enough to crack Matt's character and social status.

"Not nearly enough, but I don't really care about money." A steady heartbeat.

"If you think that leaving Benowitz was a great idea, you're very wrong, kid. He's gonna crush that office of yours like a boot crushes an ant." Harold's voice was still unbelievably calm. Matt sits on the closed toilet seat to listen better. "What went wrong? You liked working there."

"He wanted me to give a false statement to the Jury. I refused."

"That's it?"

"Yes." Your heart skips a beat; but you don't desire explaining every 'silly' thing that lead to your resignation. Not now.

He scoffs and a thunder-like laugh leaves his chest. "Honey, if you think that everyone who works as a lawyer is a saint, then you still don't know shit about the world."

"If you thought I was gonna let a guilty party walk freely among everyone else, then you're..." Insane. Stupid. "Wrong."

"But it's not that, is it?"

Matt stiffens, trying to locate your heartbeat again.

"It's... Love, right?" Harold asks again, noticing your pink cheeks. He could always read you like an open book. "Oh, what have I told you after the last time?" A heavy sigh escapes him.

You break the eye contact with him, looking at your feet. The mattress next to you dips, and your face is pulled into your dad's chest. "I know. But it's different. It won't be like the last time." You whisper, your shoulders rigid and unable to release the tension.

"I want to believe it. But I have a feeling that this time it will be worse."

"No, I promise."

"You don't have to promise me anything. Promise to yourself." He rubs your shoulder with the free hand, thinking over his next words. "Listen, I know that it never worked out with Robert... Although I really wish it did. But I'm not gonna press you this time."

"Who are you and what did you do to my father?" You pull away to look him in the eyes and he wipes the tears from your face.

"I want what's best for my only daughter."

Matt furrows his eyebrows. So many questions and no answers. He understood that the past is better left behind, but not knowing a lot about you was frustrating.

***

The dinner was nice. Apart from the occasional glares thrown at you and Matt from one of the three. You sat next to Matt, who was seated right across Robert, next to your father, facing you, and your mother by his side. Robert was acting like a real man should - he listened, asked questions, commented something on the game that was shown on TV; to a mere watcher, it would've looked like Robert and Matt got along just perfectly. But the tension was hanging thickly around them, as you suspected it would.

Your father was mostly silent, but when he talked, he only asked questions. Questions you didn't particularly enjoy. When you told him about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, now crowned as Daredevil, about how the whole gang of Nelson and Murdock put the city's biggest criminal behind the bars and accidentally let it slip that you've been poisoned, your father almost choked on the apple pie. Of course, the lecture about being more cautious was inevitable, even in front of a guest, but when Matt placed his warm hand on your knee for reassurance, you felt grateful to have him here with you.

"Do you agree with this devil, Matthew?" Your mother asks, pouring herself a glass of water. You notice her hands slightly shaking. Obviously, no mother wants to hear about their child getting hurt; not even when that child is a 30-year-old lawyer.

"As a lawyer - no." Matt's voice is firm, he doesn't stutter like he did when Karen asked his opinion about the vigilante for the first time, although it wasn't nice to lie about himself. "As a citizen, a blind one too, I think he's doing a lot more good than wrong. I mean, he has saved y/n, and our secretary, more than once."

"By disobeying and breaking multiple rules." Robert speaks from behind a cup, sending you 'is this guy serious' look.

"Well, you can't have something good without a bit of bad." Matt responds, and you bite away a grin, giving Robert a glare back.

"Sounds a lot like church teaching."

"Well, I am catholic." Matt answers to Robert.

"So as a catholic, you believe in his doings?" Your mother asks again. The question hangs in the air for a while, accompanied by the sound of intense commentating on TV.

"Please, let's not involve religion at this table." You groan slightly.

"No, I wanna hear his opinion." You look at Robert threateningly, but he avoids your eyes.

"Yeah, I mean... He's not killing people... From what I've heard. Just... Beats them up and gives them to police."

"So what you're saying..." your father clears his throat, "is that police are not capable of dealing with the criminals... and they need another criminal to help them?"

Ah, the police way of talking. You knew this was coming sooner or later. Maybe bringing Matt here was a mistake.

"I usually don't doubt honest work of police officers but-"

"Fisk had at least half of the precinct paid off. I saw FBI arresting them." You help Matt, suddenly feeling the need to defend him from your family's sharp words. You two against the whole world.

"All the good men then left, I see." Harold clears his throat again, this time more embarrassed than confident, "when I was Chief Officer, anyone who was bribed was kicked out of the force... by me. Personally. I guess a lot has changed, in almost ten years."

"Why did you leave the force?" Matt risks a lot with this question, and suddenly everyone at the table tense. You gulp loudly beside Matt, panic evident in your eyes when they meet your father's tired ones. Your mother focuses on the glass of water in her hand, not making eye contact with anyone. Robert notices your eyebrow slightly twitching when you look at Camilla, something about your face now was different; you looked paler, more tired, as if these were your last moments on Earth. He knew some of it, the story, the real reason, but after the time when he asked for more details and was met with your furious father, he didn't dare to look for more details anymore. What he knew, was half of the truth, and frankly, it was enough for him. It was the same for your mother, yet she learned to be humble and silent about it.

The question hangs heavily in the air, until your father replies, "Uh, just encountered some personal... Health problems."

He's lying. Too obvious for someone who previously worked in the force. Harold's heartbeat is all over the place, loudly pounding in Matt's ears. As is yours. Something about this was not right, suspicious.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Matt sends a small apologetic smile towards your dad, his hand finding your knee under the table again. You almost flinch, but then quickly cover it up with a cough. Your skin somehow feels both hot and cold at the same time, and Matt feels the sudden tensing of your body. "If you were still a captain, none of that mess with Fisk would've ever happened."

"Don't be so sure, Matthew." Harold's voice is low, with a note of regret, "from what I've heard now, he's worked hard in the shadows to lure powerful people and built his empire from scratch. A man like this is very dangerous and hard to capture."

"But not impossible." Matt strives to bring positivity back on the table, but this appears to be impossible.

"Matthew, take no offense, but you're too catholic for your own good." Harold answers, and you know that this is his final word in this talk.

The men return from the backyard, and you can only guess what they talked about the whole time they were gone. You pass Matt in the corridor, grazing his hand with your fingers as you go and make way towards the bathroom to wash your face. A minute later, someone slips inside, and you think that it's Matt, but when you lift your head to grab a towel, you see Robert standing in the middle of the bathroom, his arms crossed on his chest.

***

You help your mother get the guest room ready, exchanging only few words. She likes Matt, admits it herself, but doesn't dare to comment anything else. Mother's intuition was telling her that you didn't bring Matt here to simply make a blind man's lonely holiday better, perhaps you wanted to introduce him as your boyfriend, but didn't dare to do so when Robert was in the house. She also liked Robert, he was almost like a son to her, visiting them ocassionally since highschool, he wasn't a rare sight in this house, but... Maybe it was time to move on. For everyone. Camilla knew that if Robert continues coming here, you'll become a rare sight. In her heart, she wanted what's best for you, her dearest daughter, but she also knew about your tough character and how easily you can break apart when you're hurt.

"Occupied."

"Well, then you should've locked the door." His voice is nonchalant, you notice that he's already changed his clothes, ditched the long sleeved shirt for an old police academy t-shirt. He looks as if he was trying to flex his biceps in front of you, but the thought of that makes you grin. Matt definitely had a stronger body than this Sheriff wannabe.

"Not my fault that there's an idiot in the house."

"Classic y/n." He scoffs, leaning on the door with his whole back. "So, this guy, a new toy of yours?"

"Do I hear jealousy, Robert?"

He ignores your question, going on a ramble, "see, this is why some people think of you as a whore, going around, playing men and then leaving them when you get bored. Even at the dinner table you two can't keep your hands to youself, huh? Are you two fucking?"

"I fuck whomever I want. And it's no concern of yours." You say, leaning on the sink.

"Have you forgotten about us? How good it felt when we were together?" He says, his back still pressed against the bathroom door, keeping the maximum distance in the small space.

"Maybe it felt good for you, but you've never even bothered to ask if it felt good for me." You bite, watching his eyes widen in shock... Or shame.

"Oh please, if someone had heard us, they would've thought that I was the best man on the planet with the way you were screaming."

"Maybe I was screaming because I disliked it? How can you know when you've always turned away to sleep or left after you were done rutting your dick into me?" You wave your hands in front of you in a dirty gesture, noticing Robert's clenched jaw.

"He's gonna break your heart. Like you did mine. I just hope the pain is even worse for you than it was for me."

"I broke your heart? Please." You scoff, crossing your arms, "when I told you about my problem, you basically vanished."

"I needed some time to think, but I still wanted you. I still do." His voice is desperate and it makes you sick.

"Oh, save it for some other poor soul, you just wanted to get me pregnant but when the doctors said that it's impossible, you threw me away like a dirty rag. That's all you wanted - to have nice little children, and not because you loved me, but because you were so obsessed with my father that you wanted a connection between the two of you!" Your voice gets louder and Robert glances at the door nervously.

"I don't need any children to have a connection with your father. I already have it." He boasts, so sure of his place in this house that if he hated you, he would have the power to banish you from here. But he didn't. Deep in his heart, there we still strong feelings for you.

"Oh, right, I forgot that you are the son he wished to have, and not me, the daughter who's whoring around every man she sees, right?" Your voice is strong, displaying years of suppressed anger and not being loved enough in your own home. "Do you know how hard it was for me to be with you after all that I went through? How your touch made me flinch? And you have the audacity to come here to my parent's house and say that you want me back? Don't you understand the reason I left you the second time?" You desperately grab onto the sink with your palms and take deep breaths.

"You said you were better, how was I supposed to read your goddamn mind?" He shouts, and suddenly you feel like you've travelled back in time, before you were even a lawyer, and were arguing about the same things with Robert.

"I said I was better because I was, the therapy was helping, but I wasn't feeling well with you around. You're just... Too similar to him."

"If you think that I'm similar to that psychopath, you're not better than him yourself."

"You-" you grab a tube of body lotion from the sink and throw it at Robert, hitting him in the chest. "Get out of my sight before I throw something sharper than this fucking lotion!"

"You will fuck this up, whatever you two have going on, it's doomed." He leaves the bathroom, closing the door loudly.

***

An hour later you're gently knocking on Matt's door, hoping to disappear from the corridor before Robert or your father see you. Robert was staying in the room next to this, and he could exit any moment. Matt opens quickly, much to your luck, a confused look on his face. Without words, he lets you inside.

"Wow, that is really dark, I gotta," you walk towards the corner of the room and turn on a lamp. Warm yellow light fills the space, and you notice Matt's slumped shoulders. "What did they even do to you?" You say with a humourless laugh, sitting at the end of the bed.

"Don't worry, we just chatted. What's up with you?" Matt tries to sound innocent, but he didn't know what to do with the information he overheard. He wanted to hug you, and never let you out of his embrace, but you had to tell everything you told Robert to him yourself.

"You want some?" You say, taking a sip of wine straight from the bottle. He doesn't answer, but sits next to you on the bed. "It's wine."

"Where'd you get that?"

"Stole from my parents. I need it more than they do." You push the bottle into Matt's hands, and watch him drink. "I truly hoped that this could be our escape from the problems and the whole Hell's Kitchen, but... I'm sorry it got ruined. By an obvious somebody." Your voice wavers with anger.

"It's alright. I got to spend more time with you." Matt shrugs, his knee resting against yours.

"Aren't you just full of positivity?" You smile, honestly, for the first time this evening. "So, how bad are the first impressions?" You drink again, not letting Matt out of your sight.

"They're good. I think your mom likes me a lot." He smiles, and you fight the urge to put your palm on his cheek. "Robert's not very talkative with me, and your dad... I think he has accepted the fact that Robert's not your boyfriend anymore."

"Ah, you know, Matt, I love your ability to see positive aspects of every shitty situation." You laugh, finally loosening up when the wine kicks in.

"You didn't tell me it was your birthday." Matt says, taking a swing from the bottle. The wine is good, not too sweet and just the right amount of sour. "Which day was it?"

"November 13th." You answer, lying on your side with your hand under your head. "I stopped celebrating a long time ago."

Matt drinks some more and puts the bottle away, lying down as well, mirroring you. "Why?"

"Got tired of all the meaningless gifts, and money. I hate when people gift money and say 'go buy whatever you want'. It just completely loses the whole birthday meaning. A gift should be something that screams 'you're on my mind' or 'this made me think of you' and not 'this is shiny and girly, I hope this will pass as a good gift'." You scoff, "One time Robert gifted me a red lipstick because he liked the color."

"Jesus, really?" Matt can't hold the laugh, and you burst out laughing as well, hiding your face in his chest. When the laughter dies, Matt's hand begins gently stroking your hair, "I would gift you the whole world if I could."

"Lying is a sin, Matthew." You smile, kissing his exposed neck. "You should be very careful with these kinds of statements. Or I might twist them around."

He lets you kiss his neck, his jaw and his chest, but the uneasiness stirring inside of him doesn't allow Matt to fully focus on you the way he'd want to. "I overheard something... You and Robert were talking."

The words make you stop and you look at him intently, panic setting in, "what exactly?"

Words get stuck in his throat, and Matt's face becomes red, embarassed. He should've just kept his mouth shut, but of course, the devil had to pull his tongue. "Something about pregnancy. I was just passing by and-"

"Oh, that." You close your eyes, bracing yourself. "I was planning to tell you this some time later. I didn't know how far will we go... Because no woman goes around telling that to the first guy in her bed... But I think you already deserve to know." You pause, feeling your own heart beating loudly in your ears, Matt puts his hand on yours for emotional support. He has heard every single word you and Robert said to each other, but he needed to hear it all from you. "I... I can't have children. I can't get pregnant, and... If you had thoughts about family, now it's perfect time for you to run away."

"I won't leave you, y/n." He squeezes your hand, reassuringly, "I... I don't care. Family, no family, I just want to be with you."

"Just please, don't be disappointed later when that honeymoon phase passes." You sigh.

"I won't. I promise." Matt seals his promise with a kiss, one full of love and adoration.

I love you.

***

The night felt like a fever dream for you and Matt. He kissed you the way he has never kissed anyone; his touch was like fire on your skin, exploring your body like he has already done many times before, but this time it was even more intimate. This wasn't just sex anymore; it was a feeling almost divine, as if your spirits were connecting and merging into one. You gripped the sheets, raked Matt's strong back with your nails, surely leaving long red marks, and welcomed his body weight on yours when you both came from the highest of all the highs - it was divine. When Matt continued to tightly hold your interlocked hands next to your head, and panted hot air into your neck, you didn't expect him to say the next words.

This was beyond the description of 'divine' and all the other words that were used to describe a feeling out of this planet. This was something else, something unreal, a thing one so madly in love longs to hear, dreams, expects and waits for... Yet is never ready when these words are said aloud.

If you didn't have to be quiet, you'd surely would have been laughing into his strong, hairy chest, pressing his body into yours a million times until you wouldn't have been able to move a single muscle. But you couldn't. So you showered Matt with kisses, feeling your lips uncomfortably tingling, and swollen, and told him the same three words back.

It was a fever dream, and you both were sick with the worst disease ever - love.

#matt murdock #marvel daredevil #matt murdock x reader #foggy nelson #bound by law #netflix daredevil #lawyers #matts superhearing complicates things for you #daredevil #marvel #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #matthew murdock #human disaster matt murdock #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x reader

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lxvenxo · 1 year

Text

wow its been awhile since ive done some incorrect quotes --

quotes include: Icemav, Floydsin, and some Phoenix & Goose

Bob: While I'm gone, you're in charge Hangman. Hangman: Yes! Bob, whispering to Phoenix: You're secretly in charge, but I don't want him to feel bad. Phoenix: Obviously.

Bob: So, are you two friends? Hangman: Yes. Phoenix: No.

Phoenix: H-how do you ask someone out? Hangman: Well, first- Bob: Don't ask him, he asked me out in a McDonalds parking lot. Phoenix: …And you said yes?

Bob: We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without? Phoenix: Hangman, probably.

playing twister Phoenix: Right hand red. Hangman: ends up on top of Bob Bob: You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Phoenix: I stopped spinning like 15 minutes ago. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice.

Maverick, sweating: Iceman, there’s something I need to ask you- Iceman: Finally! You’re proposing! Maverick: How’d you know? Iceman: Maverick, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner. Iceman: I even picked it up once.

Maverick: Iceman, you love me, right? Iceman: Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.

Goose: And now for a gay update with Maverick and Iceman. Slider: Getting gayer. Goose: Thank you, Slider.

Some Extra !!

Rooster: Just be yourself. Hangman: Really? Rooster, I have one day to win over Bob’s parents. Hangman: How long did it take for you guys to like me? Coyote: Couple of weeks. Phoenix: Six months. Maverick: Jury’s still out. Hangman: See Rooster? ‘Just be yourself,’ what kind of garbage advice is that?!

*Everyone is playing a board game together* Rooster: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'. Phoenix: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'. Hangman: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'. Bob: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'. Hangman: *flips the board*

Hangman: ARE YOU- Rooster: Fucking. Hangman: KIDDING ME?! YOU- Rooster: Fucking. Hangman: IDIOT! Phoenix: …What was that? Rooster: Bob banned Hangman from swearing, so I’m helping them out.

Phoenix: What’s up with Hangman? They’ve been laying on the floor for like….an hour now? Rooster: They're just a little overwhelmed. Phoenix: Why? Rooster: Bob smiled at them.

#floydsin #robert bob floyd #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #bradley rooster bradshaw #incorrect top gun quotes #top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #top gun #pete maverick mitchell #icemav #tom iceman kazansky

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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years

Note

!!!Angst Night!!! So exciting oml

Could I please request:

Lip Gallagher, Prompt: "I guess I didn't realize I was such a nuisance" Situation: Broken Trust

Maybe they get into a fight about Lip going to college? Honestly go hog-wild and whatever your brain comes up with Ill probably love

Looove this bestie.

"You're such an asshole." I grit, watching as Lip spins around in his seat, Fiona turning to look back at me two as her jaw slacks. It's apparent that I wasn't supposed to hear their conversation about Lip going away to college and how he feels held back by our relationship.

That our relationship is the one thing that makes him not want to go and pursue his dreams. Based on the tone of his voice, the jury's still out on whether or not he means that in a good or bad way.

"Y/n, we were just-" I hold a hand up to Fiona as her lips part but no leave her as a tear trails down my cheek, my hand reaching up to quickly bat it away as Lip looks at me frantic and fearful, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

"I swear to fucking god I didn't mean it in the way you think I did." He whispers shakily, standing up from his seat at the table as I take a step back away from the two of them, trying to collect my thoughts as I clear my throat.

"I guess I didn't realize I was such a nuisance- that our relationship was this use road block keeping you from what you want." I laugh bitterly, watching his expression drop as he looks back to Fiona who just sits there, speechless as her gaze drops to the floor. "I mean, shit, Lip. If that's how you feel then let me free you- finally. Go fuck co-eds and drink yourself into a stupor for all I fucking care." I throw my hands up in the air as I spin around on my heel, making my quickly to the front door as I listen to the two of them call out behind me.

"No! Y/n, wait please!"

"Y/n, seriously please just let him explain."

"Fuck off Fiona, you can barely save your own damn relationship, don't try to touch mine." I throw over my shoulder as I attempt to shut the door but Lip is already beating me to it, slipping out the door behind me as he wraps his fingers around my upper arm before I can make it to my car.

"I don't want to leave you. I want to be here with you- to be with you- close to you." He pleads, pulling me closer to him but I just fight my way out of his grip, pushing him back away from me as he shrinks in rejection.

"Well apparently you've made it so the only options are being with me and being disappointed or dumping me and being proud of yourself-"

"What, no-" I hold my hand up to him and his lips snap shut, tears pooling in his eyes as his cheeks flush in the cool breeze. His eyes flicker back and forth between mine as I catch my breath, turning my gaze from him as I desperately try not to cry.

"Save it. If you figure out what you want, call me. But I'm not going to wait around just to not be a priority."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy

@steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht @savageneversaw

#lip #lip x reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher angst #shameless #shameless fic

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rabarbarzcukrem · 4 months

Text

Black Rose Musical save me

So they're starting with Mikage's backstory? Interesting

Actually, I wonder how they'll go about showing that Mamiya was Anthy all along

Mamiya doing that quick spin with Anthy, and then Utena with Tokiko...

I love the "Burn" song, it does a good job at setting the mood for this arc

Ok we're getting a reminder of Utena's story and what happened in the previous musical

I love the way Saionji tosses his hair lmao. Cunty. And how he runs away with that pathetic "UaUaAaaaa!!". he's such a loser

I like how these musicals really want us to associate "the princess was wrapped in the scent of roses" not necessarily with Dios, but with Anthy. She appears every time this line is sung

Ooooh even during the "on the previous episode" part, Mikage and Mamiya are already watching everything from the shadows

Btw, Mikage's voice sounds really similar to the original in my opinion

The parallels between Mamiya and Anthy are so clear, "if you say so, senpai" = "if utena-sama says so"

Akio being introduced so casually when it's obvious that he's super important to the plot also reflects how it happened in anime

Utena/Anthy and Mikage/Mamiya parallels..Mmmm delicious

I looooove how the whole cast is gradually presented (one relationship by one) and then at the end there's Akio with Anthy. Such an amazing way to show the way all these relationships connect and mirror each other

This musical's theme song being about light, mirrors and never letting go of something that might seem like an illusion...huh...

The scenes simultaneously happening on the stage impact each other - Akio is talking with Utena in the tower, but at the same time pushes Kozue towards Miki. Only a stage adaptation would be able to portray it this way

Wait....No kanae?? :((((

Holy shit Mikage's songs have such a creepy sound with the choirs in the background

(Also Mikage pushing Miki, imitating what Akio did to Kozue)

THE ROSE STABBING SCENE. Intense as hell

The contrast between Kozue entering her Dark Era and Wakaba whining about exams lol. Isn't that a perfect encapsulation of the spirit of RGU. The tragi-comedy of it all

The choreography !!

I wonder if there's any significance to the fact that when the cast is standing still singing zettai unmei mokushiroku, Anthy is copying the dance moves of the supporting dancers

The fact that Black Rose duelists have the same skills as the members of the student council showed by having both of them fight Utena at once?? Clever

Also, power of Dios possessing the sword showed by Dios literally fighting alongside Utena

Shame that Kozue didn't do that dramatic falling on the ground thing after her rose got pierced

The egg being called "a cage of freedom". That's a nice way to put it

Saionjeans appears!!

I love shiori already

I can't remember, does Shiori call herself a prodigal daughter in the anime too? Either way that's something I'll be thinking about for the next few days

They did the blood sucking scene 👀 while Shiori and Juri's gay shit was happening 👀

Shiori thinking Juri was reaching for the boy, when she was actually reaching towards her...

Akio walking with the same posture as Touga did... HMMM

They even managed to keep the water motif !

Shiori's horrified expression when she sees her picture...The actress is too good

SHIORI AND JURI FIGHTING SCENE

How did they manage to make them even gayer??

Shiori and Juri taking off each other's roses AAAH

I love that Nanami consistently breaks the fourth wall, it's a perfect thing for her character to do

Wakaba screaming after being stabbed was so heartbreaking...

Akio throwing away that hair clip in the exact same way Touga did with Saionji's exchange diary. Once again: HMMM

Wakaba singing the lines from the first musical about the book she'd read, but this time with her voice breaking, on the verge of crying. I can't stand this

Saionji and Wakaba both singing about a prince on a white horse - Saionji mocking Utena by this, Wakaba actually idealizing Saionji. God, it works so well

Wakaba's duel broke my heart. The actress is so good at capturing the desperation and sorrow in her voice

For the first time Akio is implied to actually have been the one to give Utena the ring...and the way he grabs the supporting dancer and shoves him to the ground. He gives off such sinister vibes

The friendship song is both hopeful and sad because it proves what Akio said - Wakaba had her moment of happiness and specialness but then she had to go back to her normal life of the supporting character. And also because of the fact that while Wakaba and Utena keep singing, Anthy had to go meet up with Akio.. So even though it's heart-warming to see them spend quality time together, none of them really understand what the others are going through

This killed me

"Do you have someone important to you?" And we see the duelists with their black rose counterparts

I almost feel like Mamiya in the flashbacks has slightly different mannerisms that the one in the present impersonated by Anthy.

Mamiya with the candlestick literally SITTING on the COFFIN

"Is (Saionji) going to waltz his ass back in here?" Lmaooo

Did I just imagine it or did Mikage slash Utena on her arm, similarly to how she injured his arm before the duel

Is "Imaginary living body" playing?!?!? Hell yeah!!!

Mikage actually seeing Dios helping Utena fight? Interesting! That's something I didn't expect

I loooove the curtain falling and revealing the projector. That's what I mean when I say that a stage adaptation brings the best out of this anime. There are so many fun visual things like this

I think this arc must have been incredibly difficult to pull off in this form, without being able to do quick cuts and transitions that could be shown in the anime. But they did such a good job! Actually, they kept surprising me with clever ways of adapting the themes of the show to fit this adaptation. I was constantly impressed

The last thing left to say is. PART 3 WHEN

#rgu #revolutionary girl utena #moje

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whore4batfam · 1 year

Text

edited an old piece:

“Do you think he regrets it?”

“Regrets what?” He was impatient. He had told the kid he could stay if he was quiet, and here he was, again, asking stupid ques—

“Taking us in.”

Dick shifted, switching the position of his arms behind his head. He looked up at the stars and sighed. “What’s there to regret, Jay.”

A small head popped up. “I didn’t say you could call me Jay,” Jason reminded, jaw jutting out. He probably thought he looked tough that way.

“And I didn’t say you could call me Dickhead, but here we are,” Dick shot back. “Sit down.”

Jason opened his mouth, but closed it when Dick narrowed his eyes at him. He laid back down and pointedly didn’t touch him. Fine. Kid might as well stay on his good side.

“…But do you think so?”

Dick sighed again. “Shit, kid.” The sky was clear enough tonight to see the stars twinkle. He cleared his throat. “He wouldn’t regret it for you. He went through with it, adopted you and everything. I know he seems like a moron sometimes—”

“He isn’t.”

“—but he does think things through.” Over and over and over, poking holes in Dick’s choices until he was left feeling like he was three inches tall. “He doesn’t regret you.”

Silence.

“And you?”

His voice was small, like he was unsure if he should be asking. Dick wanted to make a joke, tease him, but he couldn’t even look at him.

“Well, we’ll have to see,” was all he said.

Jury was still out for Dick, in Bruce’s case. He remembered thinking that would never be so, that Bruce could never be without him. He was his compass. Batman needed a Robin, but Bruce needed Dickie. He remembered how mad he got when Dr. Thompkins would lean over to look him right in the eyes and say, “He takes care of you.”

How could she understand? How could she think that she knew what it was like, what Bruce was like? That they were meant to be together no matter what, even if that meant—meant—

Dick shifted, pulling further away from Jason. Couldn’t stand the damn way the kid breathed.

“I think that,” and Jason sat up and swallowed, “you should come back. Talk to Alfred more. Bruce…he misses you.”

Dick stared at him. “Real sacrificial admitting that, huh.”

The boy jerked as if Dick had slapped him. Then he narrowed his eyes, looking all the world his twelve years, and kicked him. Dick didn’t bother moving away. “You’re an asshole.”

Dick scoffed. “I’m just saying it took a lot outta you. What you afraid of, me actually getting along with my own family?”

Jason shot up his feet. “I’m not holding my breath, you piece of shit,” he spat. He stomped over to the ladder and threw himself over it. “And neither is Bruce.”

Dick sat up. “Hey,” he barked. “You don’t understand that, you don’t understand anything—damnit, wait!” He scrambled to his feet. “You can’t go home by yourself!”

“Try me!”

“Jay, stop!”

“Don’t call me Jay!”

“You’re so dramatic,” Dick grumbled, following him down the ladder. He didn’t even react when the brat used his position to kick him in the ass either, which was very mature of him. He jumped the last few rungs, spinning around and collaring the kid when he tried to run. “Hey.”

“Fuck off,” Jason growled. But his eyes kept flickering left and right, as if waiting for something. Dick knew he was trying to act like he wasn’t intimidated. Kids are all alike in that way. But Jason betrayed himself in how he tried to escape. There was no cool disengagement, just nails digging into skin.

Dick knew the feeling. Someone bigger than you with their hands around you? All reason left until reality remained: being a small and cornered animal.

Dick avoided his swings, waiting until he was tired enough to slow his roll. It took a surprisingly long time. When Jason gulped in a breath, he latched his hands around his shoulders and dragged him close.

The kid stiffened, feet dragging as if he was afraid. So what if he was?

Dick shoved the guilt aside. “Listen to me,” he said firmly. “He may regret taking me in, and you may have replaced me, but that means all the jobs I did are yours now. You take care of him. Got it?”

Jason stared at him.

Dick shook him. “Got it? Say it out loud.” He shook him again. “Say it.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Jason said quickly, trying to hide the strain in his voice.

Dick released him. Well, more like shoved him. “Okay.” His throat was tight.

Jason kept staring at him, eyes glimmering like they were stars themselves. Which probably meant that he had made him cry, but. Well.

“Good,” Dick said, as if that was the end of it. And it was. It was an agreement. Maybe not an agreement between brothers, but certainly an agreement between sons. He jerked his head down to his apartment. “Go.”

Jason went, clattering and making a mess of things to make up for showing fear. Dick heard a crash and didn’t bother shouting. Dr. Thompkins’ eyes floated over the horizon, bouncing off the city lights.

“Remember. He takes care of you.”

Dick swallowed. Yeah, right.

#my fic

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ekdarnellbooks · 2 months

Text

Jury Duty: Part 4 of 7

A spicy sci fi romance novelette in seven parts.

TW/CW: non-graphic descriptions of a court case where someone described as a "young boy" was tortured and murdered, graphic description of another murder, double penetration, double vaginal penetration, alien MMC, human FMC, tentacle smut.

MASTERPOST

NSFW -- 18+ ONLY

A long week, alright, and it was only half over. Eleanor spent her days in conversation with the other jury members, all tentatively agreeing that they’d vote to save humanity, but you could cut the tension in the room with a damn knife.

Nathan was avoiding her, other than the vicious glowers he delivered anytime she dared to look his way. What the fuck was his problem?

In the mornings and evenings, Enzi delivered food to her room. Yes, she was definitely getting preferential treatment, but he never talked about the vote, never tried to influence her decision. Eleanor mostly spoke about Earth, and though it pained her to think of the vote, she was eager to get it over with.

One evening, she had her palm on the interface, ready to open her door after another long day of arguments. The whoosh of air blew her hair back, and then there was a sudden pain at the back of her head and Eleanor crumpled to the floor in a heap. She pressed her fingers against her scalp, sticky blood coating them, then turned to look behind her.

“Nathan?” she asked, nausea bubbling in her stomach as she tried to focus on him.

“You are not going to do this. You are not going to vote against humanity,” Nathan growled, holding a metal tray in his still-raised arm, eyes ablaze with fury. He had just hit her with a damn cafeteria tray.

“What the fuck? You don’t know what my vote is going to—” Eleanor started, but he took a threatening step towards her. Arms raised, she cowered before him, trying to protect herself from another blow.

“No, Eleanor. I know what your vote is going to be. You have something going on with their leader, I know it. You let an alien fuck you and then decide to destroy humanity? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Nathan spat each word, laced with poison.

None of that was even true. She had only said she understood Enzi’s reasoning. And she certainly hadn’t fucked him. Eleanor tried to stammer a response, but Nathan spoke over her.

“You’re easy enough to deal with. If you’re dead, then you can’t vote. Humanity can still live.” Nathan looked insane, his eyes wide and a disturbed grin on his face. He wanted to kill her, kill her for nothing, for something she hadn’t even done. Eleanor’s stomach roiled as she tried to take in a sobbing breath, eyes cast down to the floor, dizziness overwhelming her.

“Fuck you, Nathan,” was all she could manage. There was a long pause as she awaited the inevitable blow, and then a horrifying scream.

Eleanor jolted up and there he was, Enzi, standing before Nathan, all his tentacles extended in an obvious act of aggression. He opened his mouth, revealing rows and rows of teeth, and it just kept opening. Enzi’s jaw unhinged and in a swift move, he surrounded Nathan’s head, chomping down with a terrible crunch.

Eleanor had to look away, her stomach roiling as nausea bubbled at her throat. Yes, her breakfast was coming up now, vomit spilling onto the floor as a loud thud echoed through the hall. The sound of mastication filled her head, and she heaved, her entire body shaking.

After a long while, a touch at her back startled Eleanor. She jerked her head too quickly, vertigo causing her to see two of Enzi. A long, pink tongue protruded from his mouth, lapping up the red that covered his face. Blood. It was blood. Nathan’s blood. A glance at the floor next to her, and there was Nathan’s body, his headless body, gore leaking from the stump of his neck.

“What the fuck, Enzi?” she asked, closing her eyes to stop the spinning, to do away with the horrific scene in front of her.

Strong arms scooped her up, cradling her like a baby against his pebble smooth chest. Eleanor wrapped her arms around his neck, desperate for comfort despite knowing the alien was the one who did this.

“He hurt you; was going to kill you. He was not fit for duty. We do not allow vote manipulation.”

That’s what this was about? Vote manipulation?

“You didn’t have to kill him. Jesus, Enzi,” Eleanor breathed, opening her eyes to a freshly cleaned Khureno face. Enzi was serious, no toothy smirk that he usually wore. “You really didn’t have to eat him. You told me you didn’t eat meat.”

“We do not consume flesh, habitually. But sometimes, there are exceptions.”

Enzi said no more as he carried Eleanor into her room, letting the door whoosh shut behind him. He set her gently on the bed before speaking again.

“Perhaps I was impetuous. But he was going to hurt you. He was ready to deliver another blow when I found you. I would not allow him to harm you, will not allow anyone to harm you.”

Despite the horror, Enzi’s words brought a flush to her face, a flutter to her chest. Nathan had looked crazy, like he’d had no qualms about killing her. He’d said he was going to kill her.

“Some instances are unavoidable. Like I said, a necessary evil.”

A necessary evil. Like exterminating an entire species based on the indiscretions of the few. Eleanor was starting to see the appeal. Her vision was still blurry, and there was a distinct ringing in her ears.

“I think I have a concussion. He hit me really fucking hard,” she said, closing her eyes. Tired, she was so tired.

A touch at her cheek and her eyes shot open. Enzi’s tentacle, one that extended from his side, was caressing her face as he gazed down at her. He hadn’t touched her since that first night in his room. She had expected the pulse of fear, but it was absent. Enzi wouldn’t hurt her. Not now, not after what he’d done to protect her.

“I can heal you, if you would like. But I will have to touch you more thoroughly.”

“How can you heal me?” Eleanor asked, trying to focus on his face, though it was difficult.

“My functional appendages,” Enzi said, waving his tentacles at her. “I will undress you, then heal you through dermal contact.”

Eleanor’s head was swimming, but she acceded. Nathan had definitely fucked her up somehow, and without a doctor or hospital, she didn’t know what else she could do. Besides, the thought of being naked around Enzi again… well, it wasn’t that terrible of a thought.

“Okay, yeah. Please help me,” Eleanor whispered, her throat constricting.

Enzi nodded, then carefully undressed her, first sliding off her jacket and skirt, then unbuttoning and removing her blouse. Eleanor’s heart raced as he exposed her, leaving her with nothing but her bra and underwear. Any remaining fear trickled away, replaced with a pinch of arousal, igniting her core.

Even with the headache and dizziness, Eleanor’s eyes widened with shock as Enzi crawled onto the bed, straddling her hips as his tentacles slithered up her bare skin. No, she had not been expecting that. Even the tail tentacles wriggled around his body, squeezing between her thighs as the others pressed against her stomach, her chest, her arms, her neck.

It was like she was attached to some sort of weird alien IV, and the effect was immediate. Warmth flooded her body, replacing the chill of the room. Two Enzis combined into one and her headache disappeared, like a balm had been rubbed across her brain. Nausea receded and the ringing in her ears was gone.

Enzi peered down at her, and between the intense stare and the tentacles enveloping her body, the pinch of arousal turned to a pulse, electricity shooting up her spine.

“Enzi,” Eleanor whispered, her voice raw with emotion.

“Yes, little human?”

What did she want from him? Her head swam, no longer with the incoherence of the concussion, but with the confusion of her own thoughts, of the way her body responded to him. The tentacles were warm and smooth as they caressed her body, one moving to brush her cheek.

“Do you fuck all of your guests?” It was a rude question, yes, and was that even what he wanted? Still, she had to know the answer. And when had she cared about propriety?

Laughter grumbled in Enzi’s chest, that wicked grin replacing his somber expression.

“No, I do not. I have never had sex with anyone on this ship, with any of the species I’ve eradicated.”

“Do you want to fuck me?” Eleanor’s chest constricted as she awaited his answer, the arousal pulsing through her core in time with her heartbeat.

“Yes, Eleanor, I very much want that, if you would let me.”

His words set her heart on fire as she grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down towards her. Without thinking, she pressed a kiss against his mouth, though it was difficult with the way each of their faces were constructed. An electric shock to her core as Enzi’s tongue slipped out, brushing against her lips before moving its way down her jawline and neck.

Eleanor unhooked her bra, tossing it aside as Enzi worked his tentacles underneath her underwear, sliding them down her thighs and throwing them to the floor. His tongue was on her bare breasts now, wetness coating her nipples as Enzi swirled circles around them. Tentacles massaged her stomach and thighs, remaining agonizingly far away from where she wanted him.

“Please, fuck me, Enzi.” Her need was frantic, a desperate urge to be filled, to be whole, after all that had happened.

Another grumble of laughter, not mocking, but gentle. Enzi ran a tentacle across her entrance, already slick with longing, and Eleanor let out a low moan. Over and over again, he caressed her, pressing in the tip and then retreating, before penetrating her fully.

Eleanor gasped at the sudden profusion, the way his tentacle pulsed in time with her quickened heartbeat, though a question nagged at the back of her head.

“You… don’t have a penis?” she asked between moans, as Enzi thrust his tentacle into her.

“I can use all of my functional appendages for reproduction,” he said, and Eleanor took in a sharp inhale.

The tentacles were dicks!

All coherent thought left her mind as Enzi fucked her, a delicious rhythm that fanned the flames of arousal. Still, it was not enough.

“More,” she begged, desperate to be filled, desperate to forget.

Enzi obliged. A second tentacle snaked up her thigh, pressing at her entrance as she writhed against him. It prodded at her before sliding its way in, fitting snugly next to the first, like another piece of the puzzle.

Eleanor groaned and Enzi’s eyes flared, glued to her cunt, his tentacles thrusting in synchronicity. The sight should have been repulsive, fleshy pink tentacles penetrating her, filling her to the brim, but it wasn’t. It was erotic, sensual, stimulating. It made all of her muscles clench as she teetered on the brink of orgasm.

“More!” she yelled and Enzi gripped her throat with a clawed hand, the tentacle extending from his elbow slithering towards her mouth.

Eleanor parted her lips for him as he pressed his way in, fucking her mouth in time with the tentacles in her cunt, leaving her dizzy with lust. A salty musk coated her tongue as her muscles tightened, contracting against him, the excess fullness pushing her over the edge.

All she could manage was a mumbled groan with her mouth full, bucking against him as the waves of pleasure washed over her. Eleanor wanted to cry his name, to become one with him, but this was enough. Aftershocks trembled through her, yet Enzi continued to fuck her.

“Are you ready for me, my bold little human?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

Ready for what? Eleanor just nodded, and Enzi let out a fierce groan. Salty warmth in the back of her throat and filling her cunt, running down her thighs as the Khureno spurted his seed into her. Holy shit. It went on for longer than one would expect, until the groans turned to trilling moans, and then hushed silence.

Slowly, Enzi extricated his tentacles, first from her mouth, and then from her cunt, before collapsing next to her. Sticky seed spilled from between her legs, and she wiped the residue from her lips, swollen from his appendage.

Eleanor curled up in Enzi’s arms, exhaustion sweeping over her like a gentle wave. She should regret this. She should be disturbed by what she’d just done. Enzi was an alien, an alien who just killed a man she’d spent the last three weeks with. An alien playing God against the whole of humanity. The Khureno had wiped sixteen species out of existence. She should hate herself.

But she didn’t.

Not one bit.

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