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#it's interesting to me that they were both fucked up before
ellecdc · 2 days
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Hiii :) I saw your requests tips and saw that you didn't write for dub/non con and I don't know if this count as one so just feel free to not respond!
So reader is in a relationship with the Marauders and is starting to randomly think about a past SA and realise this was SA only now bc her brain has been blocking the memory and information. She tells the boys (and maybe Barty idk) about it after sometime of overthinking it and self blaming so it's just like super fluff at the end <3
(it's my personal experience but if you don't feel comfortable writing about it just feel free to ignore it :). Sorry for the bad orthograph english isn't my first language 🫶🏻)
first of all - your English is fucking fantastic (and you know more words than I do - I had to look up what an orthograph was) secondly, I turned this into more of a conversation between reader and her ship. and for plot purposes this became poly!wolfstar - hope that's okay!
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who opens up about past SA
CW: discusses themes of sexual consent, inebriation, and SA. Describes past SA and abusive relationships. Describes drunkeness, alcohol, and drinking. viewer discretion is advised.
You could tell it was taking Sirius a lot of effort to appear to be too fussed over Lily, James, and Regulus at the end of the party, but he pretended to gag every time anything even remotely romantic or sexual was brought up about his brother.
“What do you think happens when they go home, Pads?” Remus muttered quietly, causing Sirius to slap his hands against his ears.
“Would you shut up, Moons? I am not interested in hearing about my brother’s sexual habits, thank you.”
Unfortunately for Sirius, Lily didn’t get the memo. 
“Are we le-leaving!?” She shrieked through a hiccup as James held most of her weight up against his side and Regulus gathered her purse and shoes she’d since lost.
“Yes sweets; we’re gonna get you to bed.” James said quietly.
A salacious smirk took over Lily’s face as she tried (and failed) to grab James by the chin. “To bed, hm?”
Regulus snorted, though no one missed the blush that dusted his cheeks. “To sleep, Lils.”
Lily groaned dramatically and seemed to go ‘no bones’ in James' grip as he grunted and tried to keep her from hitting the ground. “Why not.”
“Because you smell like you bathed in a bottle of schnapps, sweetheart.” James placated.
“So?” Lily grumbled though acquiesced to helping James keep her up right. “We can even do that thing you like.” She tried to sing sensually, but her efforts were in vain as every other word came out slurred. 
Sirius grumbled causing James to blush. 
“Not tonight, angel. We’ll cuddle, okay?”
Lily scoffed and turned her sights onto Regulus. “You agree with me, right? Right Reggie? You agree- you agree with me?”
“Almost always.” Regulus agreed quickly, offering Lily his arm as to share her weight with James. “Just not tonight, my love.”
“You guys are no fun.” Lily whined as she allowed her two boyfriends to usher her out of Remus and Sirius’ shared flat.
Unfortunately for Sirius, no one missed Regulus leaning into Lily’s hair and promising that “they’d have lots of fun tomorrow to make up for it.”
“I hate them all.” Sirius grumbled with no real malice as he stood and made his way over to you before offering you both of his hands. “What do you say, dollface? Ready for bed too?”
Remus answered ‘yes’ as you accepted Sirius’ help up which sparked a debate between the two of them whether or not Remus could be considered ‘dollface’ to which you secretly agreed that yes he could but ultimately refused to participate in such nonsense.
You got ready for bed in a haze as you replayed Regulus, James, and Lily’s conversation in your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you were so stuck on, but something about the exchange caused something deep within your gut to churn unpleasantly. 
“You feeling alright, dovey?” Remus asked gently, pressing a kiss to your hairline as you reentered their bedroom after washing your face, carrying your toiletries with you so as not to hog the bathroom.
Sirius (and Remus) had been begging you to spend your nights here with them nearly since the very beginning of your relationship, but you argued that you did not want to pay rent for a flat you never saw. 
He then started nagging you to give up the lease on your flat and just “sodding move in with them already”, but it still felt a little too fresh for that.
So, you spent most nights (but not all) at their flat; living out of duffle bags and toiletry bags.
You hummed in confirmation to Remus’ question, moving towards the mirror above Sirius’ dresser to finish your skincare routine as Remus took his turn with the washroom.
“You sure, sweetness? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight; did you have fun?” Sirius continued as he went digging through what you knew to be Remus’ drawers searching for Sirius’ favourite shirt which was really Remus’ shirt but no one bothered to argue with the black-haired boy…anymore.
“I had fun.” You agreed, massaging product into your face.
“Uh huh.” Sirius commented, not sounding at all convinced as he came up behind you and hooked his chin over your shoulder; watching as you completed your nightly routine through the mirror. “You had so much fun and that’s why you look like Moony when he can’t figure out one of those crosswords in the Daily Prophet?”
You chuckled softly, but something in your lack of enthusiasm (or your lack of disdain) for his joke seemed to tip him off. 
“What’s going on in here, hm?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to your temple. 
“I just…” You started, sighing as you made yourself busy by tidying up your belongings and refusing to make eye contact with him. “I’ve just been thinking about Reg, James, and Lily’s conversation.”
That caused a dramatic groan to rip through Sirius’ chest as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder.
“What now?” Remus asked jokingly as he returned from the washroom. 
“She’s thinking about Regulus, James, and Lily in bed.” Sirius accused; voice muffled in the fabric of your sleepwear. 
You scoffed defensively, claiming you were “absolutely not” at the same time Remus commented “aren’t we all” which started a very loud bickering match between your two boyfriends. 
The arguing only ceased when Remus “swore on his mother’s life” that Sirius was “by far the superior Black brother.” 
Placated, Sirius turned his sights back to you as you sat on the edge of the bed. “So, what were you really thinking about their conversation?”
Remus, having walked in with only enough time to rile Sirius up, popped his head up at that. “Everything alright, dove?”
You sighed as you turned to face them. “I was just confused, I guess.” You admitted. “I think…Lily was hoping to have sex tonight?”
Sirius groaned again which earned him a swat from Remus who seemed to pick up on some of the tension radiating through your body.
“Yes…I’d agree.” Remus responded carefully.
“And Reg and James said no?”
Sirius’ head tilted at that as he considered you with furrowed brows. “Well, of course, doll. She was drunk.” He said simply, as if that explained it all. 
“So…they wouldn’t have sex with her because she was drunk?” You clarified.
The boys shared a glance with one another before they each took a seat on the bed, prompting you to turn your body so you were all facing each other.
“So, all parties have to be able to consent, right?” Remus started. 
You nodded quickly at that. 
“But when one party is inebriated or under the influence, they can’t consent.” Sirius continued.
You felt your eyebrows twitch as you looked down at the pattern on your bed spread. “Even though she was asking?”
“She wasn’t in her right mind, dove.” Remus explained gently; eyes full of compassion and, perhaps, some sadness. “She may have woken up tomorrow and not remembered anything, or perhaps worse, regretted something. It’s Regulus and James’ jobs to keep her safe, just like I’m sure she keeps them safe when the roles are reversed.”
And now you could understand why their conversation seemed to catch you so off guard. 
“You’re so pretty like this; drunk and all mine.”
“Have a few more; we always have more fun when you let loose.”
“But…I’m really tired.” “All you’ve got to do is lay there - I’ll do all the work.”
“You don’t remember last night? That’s too bad; I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.”
“You’re such a good little whore for me when you’ve had a few too many.” 
You hadn’t realised you had zoned out of the conversation until Sirius was leaning into your field of vision. “You okay, sweets?”
“Yeah.” You said breathlessly before clearing your throat. “No, sorry. I’m fine.”
“Why were you asking?” Remus queried; tone hardening slightly, alerting you to the fact that he smelled trouble. 
“I was just wondering.” You fibbed.
“You know we would do the same, right?” Sirius asked earnestly. “That we have done the same for you.”
“You have?”
“Yes, my love.” Remus whispered. “Always.”
You nodded and looked back down at the bedspread. “Okay.”
“Y/N.” Sirius called with a certain level of severity; though you detected no anger or frustration in his tone. “Why were you asking?” He repeated Remus’ earlier question after your gaze met his imploring silver eyes. 
You quickly looked down at your hands as you began picking at the hangnails around your fingers. “I was just confused; that has not always been my experience.” You admitted quietly; shame coursing through your body as you digested this new information.
The room was quiet for a moment as Remus shuffled scrupulously closer to you. “No?” He whispered; voice intoned with a level of gentleness you weren’t accustomed to hearing. 
You began to feel all sorts of discomfort at the heavy attention being focused on you in the room. “It was usually quite the opposite.” You joked; voice rising to a higher octave in an attempt to make light of the situation as you pulled back the covers and made to retreat to the relative safety of the boys’ bed. 
“Whoa, whoa. What does that mean?” Sirius implored, earning him a gentle warning “Pads” from Remus.
“I’m sorry.” You placated, still uncomfortable with this heavy atmosphere you seem to have blanketed over what had been a really nice evening. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, I-” Sirius began, cutting himself off and taking a breath you could tell was an attempt to calm himself down. He shuffled closer to you and wrapped his hand around one of your ankles through the blanket as he rubbed soothing circles against it. “You can always talk about anything with us; it’s important that we talk about these things, yeah?”
“Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Remus mollified. “But I do agree with Sirius; if you’re comfortable, I think it’s good for us to talk about these things.” 
“It was just my last relationship.” You admitted finally. “He didn’t…agree - with the consent thing, that is.”
Remus’ lips pursed as Sirius’ jaw tightened. 
“He’d sleep with you when you were drunk?” Remus asked cautiously. 
“Yeah.” You agreed half-heartedly, picking at your nail beds. “Or encourage me to drink more so…”
Remus let out a sigh and you could tell Sirius was fighting back the urge to grumble. 
“I’m sorry,” You offered again. “I really didn’t mean to bring all this up, I just-”
“I really, really don’t want you to apologise anymore.” Sirius nearly begged. 
“I don’t understand how someone could do that.” Remus mused aloud. “To anyone; and someone they claimed to love?”
You mistook Remus’ rhetorical question for an actual need for clarification. “He said I was more fun; that I’d try things I wouldn’t normally.”
Sirius did finally let out an angry huff and his fingers stilled on your ankle. “Who?”
“You don’t know him.” You countered quickly, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as you rested your chin on your knees. 
“Lucky him.” Sirius muttered darkly as Remus shifted closer to you. 
“I’m sorry dove.” He offered quietly; holding out his hand to you in a silent invitation. You accepted it, and as you gave him your hand, he gently encouraged you over to him until you were cradled in his arms.
“I didn’t tell you to be sorry.” You murmured quietly as Remus began pressing kisses to the raw and reddened skin around your fingers you hadn’t realised you had nearly shredded in your tension. 
“I know you didn’t.” He whispered. “I’m still sorry, anyhow.”
“I think it’s nice… that the boys were looking after Lily.”
Remus hummed in agreement though he still looked particularly disturbed.  
“That’s their job.” Sirius supplied, causing you and Remus to turn your heads towards your boyfriend whose eyes were red and shining with unshed tears.
“Sirius.” You murmured miserably.
“Just like it’s our job to look after you.” He continued as if you hadn’t said anything at all.
“And you do.” You agreed.
Sirius huffed and wiped at his face. “I hate to think of you being hurt or…or taken advantage of when I wasn’t there to help you.”
Remus made a pitiful sound at that. 
“You didn’t even know me then, Siri.” You offered, half teasing and half placating. 
“She’s alright, Sirius.” Remus comforted. “She’s got us. You’ll be okay now, yeah?”
And you thought of your boys now; you thought of Sirius near tears thinking of someone taking advantage of you during a time you hadn’t even known him, you thought of Remus currently cradling you like you were a precious thing he feared losing if he didn’t hold you with the utmost care, and you thought of their friends - the kind of people who they surrounded themselves with and had the same morals as they did.
Yeah…you think you might just be okay now.
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say you can't sleep, m | myg
... baby, I know that's that me – espresso by sabrina carpenter
pairing(s): yoongi x reader
summary: Snapshots of a love story centered around coffee and soft skin, heh, isn't that just so suga sweet? Mmmm, I guess so.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; fluff they're cute as fuck; smut (fem reader, fingering + f-receiving oral at work, gasp, doggy, m-receiving oral in a bedroom, whew, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – Yoongi's POV except final scene in your POV
--
“You don’t like coffee.”
She handed him the iced Americano with an enigmatic expression.
“But I like you.”
Then she walked away.
-
“Oh? I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He looked up from his lonesome table, fully intending to tell the person to fuck off. It was too late and too dark and too restless for him to even think about socializing. He lifted his head and found himself speechless for several seconds. An enigmatic expression paired with a tight black dress. He took another sip of his whiskey to avoid making the pause awkward.
He caught a whiff of a heavy, rich, coffee-scented perfume.
Then he shrugged.
“Can’t sleep.”
She smiled.
-
“You know her?”
She sat a few tables away, wrapped in a tight black dress. A soft white knitted cardigan draped over her shoulders. Demure with a hint of sex. He recognized those black high heels with gunmetal buckles. They had been tossed carelessly by his door last night. He watched her hands dance in the air with her conversation. The man sitting in front of her seemed mildly interested. Black t-shirt, silver bracelets, faded blue jeans. She rolled her eyes and her lunch companion looked similarly annoyed, shaking his head of straight, long black hair. The waiter went by their table, carrying the handheld kiosk.
She tapped her credit card, already prepared.
The young man whipped his hands out in a what-the-fuck motion.
She shrugged.
Her black velvet purse was tucked in her lap, right above her plush thighs that had been wrapped around his neck last night.
“Better than you do,” he replied, and didn’t elaborate.
-
“I didn’t know you knew him.”
She gave him a confused look.
“Why wouldn’t I know my younger brother?”
Oh.
She handed him the iced Americano with a sly smile.
“But I’ll let him know that you were jealous.”
Fuck.
-
“You don’t have to.”
She took his hand and wrapped it around the cold drink, leaving him with a handful of condensation and consideration.
“I want to.”
She was about to let go but his other hand shot up, enclosing the back of hers. He watched her almost hide the way her breath caught. Her eyes shifted. Those parted lips were picture perfect softness that inspired wet dreams. Her skin was even more perfect up close and in the light. A tick of her eyebrow. He didn’t back down.
“Meet me in front of the café at seven tonight.”
She didn’t hesitate.
“Okay.”
-
Date after date, she wore the same perfume and the same enigmatic smile. Night after night, he stared up at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck he was doing. Day after day, he looked forward to her occasional treat in the form of ice coffee. He admired her audacity to let everyone talk. Both of them deflected the topic when anyone asked. No sense in entertaining unsolicited opinions.
In bed, he closed his eyes and breathed in, remembering the way her soft skin smelled against him.
He was addicted to her perfume.
Then again, he already had a coffee problem so maybe it was all in his head.
-
From across the room, she smiled at him.
He acknowledged her with a nod, sticking his hands in his pockets so they wouldn’t shake.
The eye contact lingered for a moment linger before she turned and walked out the door.
After about ten minutes, he made up some excuse and left too.
-
He kissed the inside of her thigh and looked up.
Her knuckle was against her teeth, biting down lightly, calmly giving him an expression of apprehension and boldness. He cocked his head. She shrugged with one shoulder. He bunched her skirt around her waist.
And stared into her eyes as he licked upwards.
Hot, heavy, and with possessiveness.
She melted against the wall. Lashes fluttering, shivering under him, no sound. Probably because of where they were. The mischief in her eyes glimmered. Her perfect lips formed words both silent and damning.
Keep going.
To be perfectly clear he did not give a fuck about rules, but also he liked his job and didn’t want to get himself fired. Yet. He skimmed his lips over her soft skin and figured that at least it would be a cool story, letting his fingers sink into her shapely hips, toying with the hem of her panties with his thumbs. Her free hand wandered down to hold up her skirt. Helpful. He closed his eyes. Tongue, lips, teeth travelling up in a zig-zag from thigh to thigh. Her coffee-scented perfume faded as the scent of sweet sex prevailed, his index finger skimming over the heat, following the forbidden line.
Absolute silence.
But beneath his lips, her body was singing. Vibrating with pleasure. Pressing her shoulder blades against the wall, rolling her hips towards him. He opened his eyes to see hers under lidded lashes. Slid his finger under, down, the back of his nail drenched, and he pulled it aside, watching her sensual mouth form his name.
He closed his lips around the top and sank two fingers into her pussy.
Fuck, she tasted so good.
The shudder took over him before he could stop it. Delightful shivers as he watched her watch him when he cupped his tongue around her clit. Circling it gently. Coaxing. Slow and steady, admiring the way her slick walls closed in around his fingers. Thrusting deeper. He spread his knees more, wincing as he felt his hardening erection strain against even his loose jeans. She kept her hips still, melting into his momentum, looking hot as hell fully dressed with his mouth as her new accessory. He spied the curl of her pink tongue against the side of her lips. His fingers involuntarily twitched, digging his blunt nails into her thigh. Tongue against nerves. The steady climb to the heavenly high. Quiet breathing becoming labored, his cock aching at the image and taste of sweet evidence.
Her arousal dripping down his throat.
She came to his tongue, pressing the crown of her head against the wall and silently gasping to the ceiling.
No one found out.
At least, Human Resources didn’t let him know they did.
-
He spent a little more time checking out his outfit before leaving his apartment. Bomber jacket, loose shirt, slightly less torn jeans, and his nicest bag, a black leather messenger. Debated on a beanie. Decided against it and took a moment to tie his hair back into a low ponytail. The front pieces were too short to be tied back. He adjusted them in the mirror and out the door he went. Subway and then a short walk. He visited the usual spot, a café by the office, and she was already in line. The cashier seemed to have taken a liking to her, trying to keep her for a few lines of conversation. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care, courteously stepping out of line after she paid and waiting to the side for her order.
He contemplated walking up to her.
This was the first time he had been this early. He was not and never would be a morning person. A lot of the time he had to settle for the shitty coffee from the machine in the break room. He preferred an expert’s hand though, so he did his best to drag himself out of bed to get in line. Big chains had apps to order-and-go, but this was a mom-and-pop store that didn’t have the money for such technology. Honestly, now he was glad about that. A rare occurrence of the universe being on his side.
His gaze must have remained for too long because she looked up from her phone and her head turned, spotting him immediately.
He let his eyes linger when hers did.
A glimmer in her eye. Must be the morning sun. She raised her hand and beckoned him to her.
He stepped out of line and walked up to her.
“I can buy my own coffee, you know.”
The café smelled like stale morning coffee and yet somehow she smelled even better.
“Just let me do this one thing for you, hm?” she smiled.
He didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he stood next to her and stuck his hands in his pockets. He noticed several people looking her way but they all quickly reoriented their wandering eyes. It had to have something to do with the way her long black skirt clung to her hips or her courage of wearing a maroon faux fur cropped jacket out in public. Or maybe it was the way her tight black turtleneck clung to her chest.
“You can go on ahead. I’ll drop off the drink for you.”
He half-considered it. Maybe even take a moment to make it obvious for everyone.
Still, he didn’t want to leave.
“I’m still waking up,” he offered as his reply.
They weren’t looking at each other but he was highly aware of her presence next to him. He didn’t sense any discomfort. The café was getting packed. She scooted closer to him as a couple more people moved into the waiting section.
The barista called out her name.
She glided up to the counter. He watched her go, pit-a-pat beating in his chest. Admired every line, the way her hips swayed, the way stray rays of the sunrise made her hair glow. Watched her turn around in slow-motion mental cinema, raising her head, their eyes connecting, the corner of her lips rising when she saw him waiting for her.
She held out the iced Americano.
“Careful, someone might think we’re an item.”
He reached out and let his fingers graze her wrist.
“I think someone already does.”
He was talking about himself but he didn’t miss the pleasure in her eyes when the exchange happened.
-
She was a menace every time.
“I’m going to make sure you’ll need caffeine tomorrow,” she mused out loud.
He raised an eyebrow.
“And how are you going to do that?”
He somewhat regretted asking that.
-
The room was pitch black.
“You still up?”
The presence beside him shifted, facing him, but he wouldn’t be able to see even if he opened his eyes. He didn’t need to though. He knew the way the blanket draped over her arm, exposing the corner of her shoulder, her hair cascading over her neck covered in his invisible kisses and light bites. Her arm over her breasts as she adjusted her hand just under the pillow. The blanket dipped a bit further down the bed, then rose up sharply at her hips.
“Sorry if I seem restless,” she whispered. “I have insomnia sometimes.”
He had offered before, but she hadn’t accepted until tonight. He wasn’t sure what had made her change her mind.
“Me too,” he confessed. “I take a long time to fall asleep.”
Her voice was feathery and soft. Not pitched to act younger or be more appealing. True to who she was and where she was in her life. Her coffee-scented perfume reflected that as well. Dark and smokey and acidic. Full-bodied in every sense of the word. He heard amusement in her soothing voice as she spoke.
“That’s a very polite way of admitting that you’re nervous of the pretty girl in your bed being a closeted psychopath and smothering you in your sleep before taking all of your valuables and skipping town.”
He smiled.
“Don’t worry, I know all pretty girls are psychopaths.”
She laughed. “Won’t fall for my tricks then, hm?”
“I might if you actually tried some of yours on me.”
There was a pause in her breathing. A single flutter of butterfly wings, so slight he almost thought he imagined it.
“You think so?”
He kept telling himself he wouldn’t, but deep down he knew he would.
“Yeah,” he murmured, noncommittal.
There was a pungent silence.
Then he felt her warmth closer. Closer. Warm exhale tickling his shoulder. Her hand settled on his arm. A whirlwind of thoughts. He had always thought, oh, it would be annoying. It would be heedlessly complicated. It would die out quick. And, ultimately, it would be fleeting and unfulfilling.
Like a shooting star during a meteor shower.
“You’re something else, Min Yoongi.”
Meaningless was it was, he found himself making a wish as the weight of sleep swept him away.
-
Of course, he was scared.
Of course, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it or show it. People were fickle, complicated creatures that spent lifetimes trying to explain themselves to no avail. He was one of them. He had long ago accepted that he was part of the problem. Likewise, he accepted that he would never understand. He wasn’t about to encroach on the millennia of human philosophy and twist his brain trying to make sense of it all.
“I should leave.”
Best he could do was write some songs about it.
“Sit,” he commanded in his most inviting tone.
Better not to think about it too much.
He looked away from the stove for a moment to see the unsure shift of her eyes and the hesitation of her parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” She lifted her gaze.
He held it, but only for a second.
Any longer would have been too telling.
He turned back to the pan and replied with, “You cannot possibly think I’m that rude to kick you out before breakfast. Sit.”
Thinking about it too much would ruin it, anyway. It would make it less true. Convoluted. Muddled by past experiences and endless doubts. He refused to let that happen. He lifted the frying pan, tipping the fried egg onto the freshly made white rice. Set the pan down. Turned around with the bowl in hand, setting it on the counter in front of the barstool next to a small plate of his mother’s kimchi. He saw her hesitate once more. Maybe it was his imagination, or was that a flush of pink at the tops of her cheeks? He pulled out a drawer and added a pair of chopsticks by the bowl. Didn’t take his eyes off her movements.
She reached out and pulled out the barstool, sliding onto the brown leather.
Bowed her head to hide her smile.
“Thanks for the food.”
Yoongi silently let out the breath he had been holding.
-
Just before she walked out his door, she leaned in and kissed him.
She drew back.
“See you.”
He stepped forward and pulled her into a longer kiss.
“See you,” he breathed, missing her already.
-
He couldn’t look at he when she smiled.
Even as the corner of his mouth lifted and his teeth sank into the side of his lower lip.
Dark, smokey, acidic.
Her perfume was so familiar now. It settled into his palette, embellishing the dreamlike image. His hands rested on her waist, fingertips drumming against soft skin. Her fingers danced up his sternum and her lips hovered by his. Breath to breath. Her other palm on his chest. Hips to hips. The moment lingered. Almost to the point of discomfort, and then she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
He wondered if he tasted like coffee.
The kiss melted into him. Warmth rushed all over his body. He should be used to it and yet he fell back under her spell. Under her kisses over his face and neck, under her insistent touch. He dug his nails into her back. She matched him, but harder, rougher, her tongue slipping into his moaning mouth as she scratched him up. Perhaps it was a perverted satisfaction but he rather enjoyed knowing that his pale skin would be marred in pink lines of passion. He didn’t want to be precious about it.
She straddled him and pressed her panties into his erection.
He griped her waist and kissed her harder.
-
He enjoyed it when she slipped her arm in his as they walked side by side. He enjoyed watching passerby glance at them with envy, especially when her head leaned against his shoulder. He enjoyed it when she tugged him to her and caught his lips possessively. He didn’t know when he stopped hiding the smile he had when around her. He didn’t know when he stopped wanting to be alone in his free time and instead wanted to fill it with her coffee-scented perfume. He used to work late all the time because there was nothing better to do, but lately there was a better reason to ditch his responsibilities.
It was careless but such was life.
Heh.
He loved to watch her face, and yet there was something about watching her back arch and her fingers curl into the sheets. Something about his hands gripping her hips and driving himself deeper. Something about the image of her ass and thighs bouncing with each forceful smack of body-to-body contact. Just something about it. Tight, wet, hot, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, dragging his nails down her spine, feeling her match his pace. He enjoyed fucking as much as the next guy. This was simply different.
Something about her, maybe.
She threw her head back, her visceral sounds music to his ears, pleasure incarnate, and he could feel each wave threaten to drag him under, into the permanent honeymoon haze. He let it take him, gasping, surrendering, wanting it again already. She moaned with him, clutching his pillows into a jumbled mess.
Fuck, so good.
One shared look.
To be honest, he was proud of the number of used condoms that piled up.
-
“A candle?”
She lifted the heavy glass lid and inhaled. Her eyes widened, sparkling with recognition and delight.
He stated the obvious. “It’s coffee-scented.”
“I love the scent of coffee,” she murmured. He already knew that. “You remember.”
He half-smiled. “Isn’t that your excuse for always getting me one? You like the scent but you don’t drink it?” He couldn’t help but tease.
She gave him a mischievous smirk. “Trying to throw me off your scent? It won’t work.”
He sure as fuck hoped it didn’t. “I’m trying to convince you to stop buying those expensive iced Americanos for me. I’m trying to cut down for my health.”
She frowned. But he shook his head, trying to dissipate any misunderstanding.
“Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t come up with the idea. My doctor did.”
Her gaze narrowed, unconvinced.
He shoved his hands back into his pockets so they would stop shaking. There was no bag or awkward gift wrapping for him to hold on to. It wasn’t his style, but he somewhat regretted it now. He tiled his head, relaxing his face despite the thunder within his ribcage.
“What?”
She replaced the lid of the candle. Her thumb ran across the embossed characters on the paper label. Capitalism had burned a hole in his wallet. He didn’t mind though. She held it close to her chest.
“This is an expensive brand. I’ve seen it at higher end stores.”
He was delighted that she knew. The cheaper brands had smelled far too fake and far too sweet. He wanted that rich bitterness. Dark and smokey and acidic. A scent that reminded him of them. She watched him carefully. He shrugged.
“You get what you pay for.” Chuckled, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Fair, once I considered the culmination of the price of all those coffees. And, anyway, I only wanted you to know that you don’t have to pay a price for my attention. You’ve had it all this time.”
Her eyes widened a bit.
He shifted his weight, about to walk past.
At the last second, he turned his head, pausing to whisper in her ear.
“But don’t think about buying anyone else a coffee, alright?”
Before he could make his escape, her eyes were already locked onto his, her lips centimeters from his.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Min Yoongi.”
-
“What?”
She grinned. Their hands interlocked. Holding tight, even though his back was flat against her bed. Her body hovered over his. She lowered, slowly. He sucked in a breath as he felt her hard nipples brush against his chest.
“You like that?” she teased.
He stared into her eyes, melting into her mischief. “Yeah.”
She pressed her soft breasts flush against him, rubbing back and forth. He closed his eyes, shuddering, her name in his throat. His other hand migrated to her waist and he squeezed her, wanting her to know his desire. Her coffee-scented perfume stuck to his skin, bitter and sweet and addictive, a guilty pleasure he didn’t feel guilty about.
His doctor had advised him to cut back on coffee and alcohol, his other guilty pleasures, so naturally he found himself tangled up in another.
Heh.
His fingers slid up, up, tangling in her hair, pulling her face to his. There was a split second where their eye lines connected under their lashes, and he froze up. She stared back. Centimeters of trembling air between their lips. His entire body could barely contain the want and yet. It wasn’t the first time they had been this close. Far from it.
But this was the first time Yoongi realized he would move heaven and earth for those eyes.
He squeezed her hand.
She squeezed back and closed the distance between them, her eyelids falling. His too, and he realized there was sex and then there was this. This, the goosebumps that erupted over his skin when her fingertips glided down his arm. This, the chain of kisses leaving him in a daze. This, the delicate shock of her lips travelling down his chest. This, the pit-a-pat and pang of something so dirty being so pure. Her mouth enveloped him and coated his cock with a thin layer of velvety saliva. Back and forth, so soft, just right, building a lovely desperation that he savored. Tighter, and he gasped, marveling at the suffocating gentleness that made him painfully hard. Pace so steady it was nearly maddening, his fingers twisting in the sheets, and he sucked in another breath, the air saturated with her scent, hitting the apex and at the same time falling so fully that he couldn’t hide it anymore.
She kept him hard, knowing the precise amount of softness and insistence. He didn’t need to say anything. She thought about him the same way he thought about her. Her hands fanned over his hips, extending the pleasure of orgasm. His exhale a shudder. Their eyes connected again.
He beckoned her back up, breathlessly.
She obeyed. Skin to skin. His fingertips touched her chin, conducting her movement.
He could taste himself in their kiss.
“You like that?” he whispered to her lips.
She smiled against his. “Yeah.”
One torn-open condom wrapper later, and there was nothing better than her legs wrapping around his waist once he was completely inside. Shivering breath, his fingertips grazing over her collarbones, and he was well aware of his own black hair tangled over his eyes. She looked up at with admiration and satisfaction, tightening around him.
“You should come over to mine tomorrow night. Spend the weekend with me,” he found himself saying.
Her expression amused. “Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your landlord.”
He pushed his hair back, cleaning his vision.
“Let that be my problem.”
Her eyes sparkled.
“I’ll think about it.”
Seemed like she already had though.
Slow and tense, leaning down. Deeper. Her legs sliding up, tighter. Each breath drawn in hotter, keeping their electric eye contact, and he lifted one of his hands to wrap around her wrist. She watched him, intrigued. He thrust downwards and she squeezed him all around, meeting his pace, their eyes closing, succumbing to the honeymoon haze in harmony, their wanton sounds melding together like sugar into coffee. Harder. Rougher. Her name falling from his lips and his from hers. His grip on her wrist slipped.
Their fingers interlocked.
He kept the high coming, over and over.
-
The room was pitch black.
“Can’t sleep?”
He stretched his arm over his head. His body was still running hot.
“Don’t want to.”
She hummed. “Why’s that?”
He should sleep but that would tear him out of this dream. “Pretty girl giving me insomnia.”
“Damn. Wish I could help,” she chuckled, curling up against his side.
He hadn’t known it when she walked into his life, light glimmering off her hair and adorned with a sweet smile. Day by day, catching himself watching her walk past. He admired the confident way she held herself, the assuredness in her stride, the sharpness of her wit. Then one day, the morning after a particularly restless night, she had walked right up to him, an iced Americano in hand. She had known his preference. Could have been observation or asking around. Or both. Didn’t matter, as it was clear she took the time and noticed his lingering gaze.
“Why me?”
Her soft cheek against his shoulder.
“You know why.”
He did but he still wanted to make sure. “You weren’t scared?”
She took a moment to recall. “Worst thing you can say is no. You didn’t.”
He turned his head. She scooted up, and now they were looking at each other in the darkness. He couldn’t see shit, but he had already memorized her face in moments, in snapshots of closeness, into dreams he couldn’t help but believe in. She brought her face closer and their lips found each other with him meeting her halfway.
He pulled her closer.
Yoongi had always believed, oh, love would be annoying. Love would be heedlessly complicated. Love would die out quick and, ultimately, be fleeting and unfulfilling, like a shooting star during a meteor shower. And maybe it was all that.
But he could also be wrong.
Kiss after kiss, falling stars in the darkness, and he couldn’t help but believe in wishes.
Maybe he was just too far gone. Too under her spell to be logical anymore. Her leg slid over his hip, their bodies seamlessly against each other and her hand cradled his face, breathing in his air. Her perfume still lingered, dark and smokey and reminding him of how this love started, or perhaps it had rubbed off onto his skin in their passion. He didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it.
“Don’t think about anyone else, alright?” she whispered.
His hand settled around her waist.
His lips touched her nose. Lightly, endearingly. Didn’t she know? She must. Maybe she wanted to hear it from his lips. He didn’t know the romantic thing to say. He was terrible at that. Always was, always would be. Then again, she had already given him the answer.
He smiled.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”
-
“Iced Americano. The largest size, please.”
The barista smiled sheepishly. “Busy day?”
You tilted your head, a stray strand of hair curling around your curved lips.
“My darling needs it.”
--
masterpost
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eetherealgoddess · 3 days
Note
can you one with mikey where he is deeply in love with reader but she is oblivious and one night his dark impulses take control of him and he fucks he in her sleep??? love your content btww
thank you!! hope this turned out the way you wanted!! <3
ꨄTemptationꨄ
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Oneshot - Yandere Mikey Au
❦You didn’t know how tempting you were to those dark eyes❦
Sano Manjiro x Reader
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Not fully proofread!
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Temptation
The moonlight gleams through the cracked curtains, shining over the bed as a figure lies underneath the white comforter. You slumber, snug and warm as you lie on your stomach, one leg lifted as well as both of your arms though with bent elbows. Your other leg is planted straight down as your cheek meets the pillow. Light snoring echoed throughout the room as well as steady breathy. You were oblivious to the eyes gazing over your limp frame. He’s kneeled on the floor as his head lies on top of the arms that are crossed on the mattress in front of your face. His blonde strands hovering over his face, disheveled from his lack of care considering his sleepless nights.
Ever since he found a way to break into your room despite you still living at home, he hasn’t been able to keep himself away. He likes to visit you at night. It helps with easing the dark thoughts he succumbs to when he tries to fall asleep. His past haunts him, entrapping his mind with nothing but dark whispers of various impulses. The intrusive thoughts sneak up on him as a snake would before snapping the venom in their prey, trailed by the shadows of darkness looming over his back and reminding him that all he is meant to experience is suffering.
Ironically, sneaking into your room at night gives him a sense of normality. He can’t help but to live in the moment once you’re in the picture. A sane person wouldn’t think twice of you, having accidentally bumped into one another which resulted in you apologizing before running off. It didn’t make sense why he decided to follow you the rest of the day or command one of his gang members to search for more information about you. It doesn’t make sense why there isn’t a day he goes without thinking of you.
Maybe it was the sense of normalcy or distraction from his inner world. Maybe it was the qualities you had as a person that he found interesting after looking into you. The fact is that he is mesmerized by you. It’s been months since you first met, the accidental shove forever leaving a ghostly tingling sensation on his arm. He sits up for a moment, resting his elbows against the bed as both of his hands tangle through his hair, holding up his head as he eyes you with a half lidded gaze.
After a moment he stood up before slowly pulling the cover back, deciding to see more of you to get his fill. He gazed at your body that only consisted of a t-shirt and shorts. He loved to see the fabric of your bottoms wrapped tightly around your curves which is why his favorite nights are when you have them on.
He figured out that your sleeping habits vary. Sometimes he’d get there and you were in the middle of changing, scrolling through your phone, or… sometimes even catching you in the middle of a session with your sex toy. The tree next to your window and the space in your walk-in closet as well as the placement of your bed from across made those specific nights a lot easier to observe.
He uses a hand to caress your back gently before slightly lifting your shirt to reveal the skin on your lower back. His palm rubbed along the crease in which your derrière and back meet, squeezing your side before continuing his strokes, staring at your face cautiously. He bit his lip as he squeezed you once more, firmly as he watched your nose scrunch. He released your skin as he felt a tightness form in his pants.
It wasn’t his first time gaining an erection simply from gazing or touching you. In fact, there have been times he had rubbed his tense cock in your closet as you were watching porn, both of you orgasming together as he edged himself until you were ready for release. He’s used your clothes as towels and stole them. He’s also jerked off sitting right in front of you as you sleep on the bed, imagining all the different ways he can have his way with you.
The way your legs tense when the toy hits that spot that sends you into convulsion, your moans filling the air as well as the curses as you grind out your orgasm. Sometimes you’ll even repeat your sessions back to back, in search of the relief he wants to provide for you. He palmed his bulge as he reminisced those favorable moments. He looks down and gazes at his own hard on, his hair hovering over his face with his lips slightly parted as a red hue forms on his cheeks.
“Shit.” He whispered, feeling the overwhelming urge to climb on top of you. He just wanted to take a look at your wet pussy again. Leaning over to where he uses a hand to slide the leg nearest to open to gain a better viewpoint of your covered vagina. The tight shorts caused an imprint to outline the frame of your center. He glanced at you before gently connecting his fingers with your pussy, rubbing over the slit. He watched you as his middle finger moved to where your clit is hidden under the shorts, applying a still pressure to test the waters. Your hips twitched as you slightly readjusted but your eyelids stayed shut.
His fingers slid until he reached in between your ass cheeks, grazing over your covered anus before removing his hand all together. His torso bends over, crawling until he climbs over your legs. His hands connect with your shorts before he slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked bottom half as he tossed them to the side. He scoots to a better position over your legs and cupped both of your butt cheeks, squeezing and using his thumbs to caress the skin before spreading your labia with his fingers still planted on your ass.
He glanced at you to see your sleeping figure once more before he released you and shoved a hand into his pants. He lowers the lining of his underwear before pulling his cock from his pants. Deciding to ease some of the tension, he positions himself closer to your ass, using a hand to spread a cheek before pressing his cock in a downward position to where he could feel his head against your warm pussy.
He released a quiet grunt before lowering his torso on yours, basically hugging you as he eased his arms under yours, pressing his hips against you as he held it there. He thought he would have enough self control to not go all the way in since he just needed to feel you. It felt so good to feel your body against his, soft and warm. As time went on it was beginning to feel a little too good. He pressed down his hips before pulling back and repeating the same motion slowly in an attempt to not wake you up. He pants as the feeling becomes too hard to handle.
Deciding to just use the head of his cock, he licks his hand before lathering up his girth and using his fingers to position himself to your already wet vagina. He pushes forward slowly, your labia popping open wider as his tip stretches your hole. He accidentally released a moan as his head dropped, arms slightly shaking as they balanced himself over your figure.
“Oh fuck.” He hissed as he pushed in just a smidge more of a distance than before, stopping himself before he continued. It already feels like your pussy is sucking him in, the walls tightening the part of him already inside of you.
“So warm.” He groaned as he sat up more, breathing heavily with his lips apart as his head fell back. You slightly squirm against him as you attempt to reposition yourself, your leg that was bent moving down to where your feet are parallel. You wince as you take a deep breath before the slumber takes over once more.
He’s had to wait so long for this. He was having a hard time thinking rationally as all he wanted to do was shove his cock inside of you as deep as possible before forcing you to take all his cum. His hands reach the skin of your back under the shirt. His hips twitch back before he pushes back in, only his tip immersed in your walls. He can feel your pussy releasing more juice from the stimulation. Everything felt so hot.
He couldn’t take it anymore, lowering his upper body as he repositioned one of his arms under you and the other hand covering your mouth, lifting your head slightly. Your eyes finally flutter open into a squint, only just coming back to reality as you feel a heavy weight above you as well as a pressure from below.
“Forgive me, Y/n.” Your eyes widen at the low whisper before the hand tightens around your mouth and someone leaves a kiss on the back of your head before you feel a sharp pain in your core, causing a muffled grunt to leave your mouth as Mikey’s hips lock against yours in a swift motion.
He moaned when his hips smacked against your ass. You whimper at the pain as you attempt to push against the bed in an attempt to throw him off of you. You failed miserably, not even being able to move from your position because of his immense strength overpowering you from atop. You couldn’t even turn your head to see who the culprit is forcing themselves upon you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grunt loud from another hard impact from his thick cock.
“G-get off of me!” You attempt to scream but his hand only muffled your speech. Both of your bodies rock as he gains rhythm, his hair flailing as he grinds against you.
“Shhh.” He nibbles on your ear as he makes an attempt to quiet his own moans, not wanting to risk your parents walking in though if it happened, he wouldn’t have a problem with ridding himself of the inconvenience of their presence.
“M’ gonna find it and make you feel so fucking good, Y/n.” He says in your ear, forcing his fast strokes in deeper as he searches for the spot that has you quivering when he watches. Your nails impale the sheets as your grip tightens, the pain having resided once he found the spot, a moan escaping your lips.
“There it is.” He smirks before pressing his head against yours and closing his eyes. He continuously aimed to kiss your cervix as his head dropped to your neck, his lips connecting with the skin before he thrusts harder, rutting against you as he humps your backside. His cock is suffocated by the warm gummy walls inside of you, your juice lathering him as a natural lube as you reflexively push your ass against him, meeting his thrusts as your nipples harden against the bed.
“Th-this isn’t right!” You try to speak once more, struggling to push yourself off the bed as he adds more weight to your form, cock rubbing along your inner lining as your g-spot is assaulted. “I don’t even know you!”
“The only thing…” he breathes, “…that matters is my lo…” He pants as his eyebrows furrow before the smacking of his hips against your body becomes louder as he brings you both closer to your orgasms, his tip beating hard against your g-spot. You release a loud grunt followed by a moan as your hips move against him desperately.
“Ah fuck, baby this feels so good.” He hissed before his lips fell apart. Lowering his head, he rests it against your shoulder as he fucks into you with firm yet fast strokes. You bite your lip as your eyes shut tight, your hips bucking as you release a desperate moan, a wave of pleasure engulfing your abdomen as you orgasm on the stranger’s thick cock.
“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He whispers before his grip on your face and shoulder tighten, his hips rocking as he thrusts out his orgasm. You both pant as you catch your breath, his cock still inside of you before he slowly pulls his hips back causing a grunt to leave you both. You feel him kiss your shoulder and neck as your eyes widen in horror at the realization of your circumstances as he releases your mouth.
“W-who are you?! Y-you j-just…” You try to turn around to get a look of him but he only pressed your head against the pillow.
“When we get to know each other better, I’ll explain. For now, just know that you’re my wifey, okay?” He smiled, ignoring the look of confusion and fear that appeared on your expression.
“I-I don’t even know you! HE-!” He covers your mouth once more and leaned to your ear.
“I don’t want to kill your parents, Y/n. So don’t make me, okay? I’d like to meet your family properly.” Tears stream down your face as he tells you to close your eyes. You comply, shutting them tight as you feel his weight shift before completely disappearing.
“See ya next time.”
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tbh i liked the request but idk if i liked how i wrote it
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sissylittlefeather · 2 days
Note
Hi Sissy! If it’s not too late, could you do a Fic of Elvis based on the song “Help Me Make It Through the Night?” Like Elvis and you know you’re not good for each other, but you can’t stay away. Can develop into smut but if you’d prefer not, that’s okay too! If it’s too late, I completely understand! Thank you! 😊
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@peaceloveelvis Hi! Definitely not too late! First of all, this is one of my most favorite songs. I actually have a series planned to go with this song later, so stay tuned. But also, I haven't written anything without smut in a LONG TIME. This one came out this way and I might revisit it to expand on the smut later if there's interest, but I kind of like it without it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this ficlet!
Help Me Make It Through the Night
Warnings: none really, cussing, mentions of sex
------------------------------------------------------
Elvis has been a part of your life since you met him during his Timex special with Frank Sinatra. The only thing you did more than make love relentlessly was fight endlessly. The nights were hot, but the mornings never failed to conclude with both of you yelling and at least one of you crying. There was no end to the way you loved each other or the way you managed to drive each other insane. There was always something to fight about and you left each other every time swearing you'd never be together again. But somehow, you'd end up in the same place and before you knew it you were naked in an elevator or in his backseat or in a bathroom or a hotel bed in some sketchy by-the-hour kind of place. Even after he got married, you didn't stop. Your pattern of fucking and fighting stayed the same.
In 1969, though, you had a particularly spirited tryst that ended with both of you saying things you regretted almost instantly. But you were both too stubborn to admit it, so instead you threw a shoe at him and screamed at him to get out and he called you a name and swore he'd never end up in your bed again. This time, the pain you caused cut so deep that you both insisted you'd never give in again. It was over, for real this time. The hurt was too much to make the good times worth it.
So, you did what any self-respecting woman would do. You married someone else.
When he heard about it, he broke an end table and all the things sitting on it in a fit of rage and jealousy and something else he was afraid to admit.
On your wedding night, you cried yourself to sleep with your new husband snoring quietly next to you in the bed.
Then, in 1971, you find yourself walking down the street and come upon a loud and frantic crowd. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you look to see what all the commotion is about. The crowd parts like ill-meaning clouds and he looks up at just the wrong moment.
His blue eyes pierce you straight through to your soul, even from across the street. Something inside you jumps and your hand goes to your throat. Memories of every time you've ever been together slam into you like a freight train and you're somewhere between ecstasy and wanting to die. By the look on his face, you can tell he's experiencing something similar. Everything inside you is screaming at you to go to him, but you feel the cold little ring on your finger and know that you can't. You turn and walk away as quickly as you can. He fights to get away from the crowd around him, but by the time he does, you're gone.
******
You're pacing the floor of your living room when the phone rings. Even several hours later, you haven't recovered from your encounter. You pick the phone up aggressively, annoyed to be distracted by the call.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Presley would like you to meet him tonight at the Presidential Motel at 11pm." Your blood runs cold.
"Why?" The line clicks with no answer. He's left the ball in your court and you hate it. You won't meet him. You just won't. He's impossible.
But at 10:45pm you're in your car. You've spent the last several hours trying to remind yourself of all the reasons you hate him. You finally decide you're going to see him just to tell him that you don't care what he says; you were serious last time. This is not a thing anymore and it never will be again.
At 11:06pm, you sit in the parking lot of the motel, a battle raging inside you.
"This is stupid." You mutter, finally getting out of the car. At the desk, you ask which room Mr. John Burrows is staying in. The clerk tells you and you stomp towards his room getting more and more angry as you walk. The nerve of him to think he can just summon you like this.
You pound on the door with every ounce of rage your body can contain flowing through you. The door opens slowly and your heart skips. Why does he have to look so good?
"You came."
"What the fuck could you possibly want to say to me?! The last time you saw me you called me a whore and said you'd rather swallow a knife than see me again. So, whatever you have to-"
"I miss you."
"You... what?" He speaks again slowly and deliberately.
"I miss you." It feels like your stomach has fallen to your kneecaps. "I'm lonely, honey."
"Call your wife."
"Will ya just... no. I want you."
"Have you forgotten-"
"No, I haven't. And I'm sorry." He's never apologized to you before. You stand in stunned silence just outside the door.
"You're-"
"Sorry. Yes. Now, will you come in please?" You stand there completely lost. Finally, he grabs your arm and drags you into the room, shutting the door behind you.
"What the hell, Elvis?!" He pulls you close to him and presses his lips to yours. For a second, you melt into him. Then, you remember why you were mad and pull away angrily.
"No, I'm not-" He pulls you in again, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you more deeply this time. You fight to get away, but he holds you tightly. Eventually you're able to escape his grasp and you push him backwards. He goes to grab you again and you slap him across the face. Your hands go to your mouth in shock and he looks at you stunned.
"Oh god, I'm-"
"I guess I deserved that." He walks to the bed and sits down. "You actually hate me, don't you?"
You stand there for a few seconds before sitting down beside him on the bed.
"No. I don't. But we said this was done."
"I know. I'm just... I'm alone, honey. And I miss you so much it hurts worse than being with you." You look at him, but he won't meet your eyes. It comes to you that he must be pretty desperate to put himself in this position.
"You're alone?"
"You know how it gets for me. There's people everywhere, but I just... I miss you."
"Why me?" He rolls his eyes and looks at you finally.
"You gonna make me say it?"
"Yes. If you want me to stay here, then-"
"I love you. I've been in love with you since I met you. You're the only one I want when I feel like this and it's been so long-" You reach out and put your hand on his knee and he looks down at it, setting his on top of yours, gently wrapping his fingers around yours.
You're used to these vulnerable moments from him. They're what has brought you together over and over throughout the years. So when he breaks down and sobs, you pull him into your arms and hold him without thinking. Somehow you end up lying in the bed with him cuddled tightly against you, head on your chest. You stroke his hair and hum quietly. This is a familiar position for the two of you and you've missed it more than you care to admit.
Eventually, his breathing evens out and you realize he's fallen asleep. You kick your shoes off and snuggle in to spend the night. As angry as you were, you can't deny him what he needs because the truth is you love him too and you always have. You kiss his forehead and hold him tightly. You've missed this too.
******
In the morning, you make love and it's sweet and sensual and exactly what you've both been needing. And this time you don't fight. Somewhere in the year you were apart, you grew. The love that you have is more important than anything that might separate you.
And as you lay naked together, the world opens up for you. He talks about leaving his wife and you decide your husband will be better off without you.
Will it happen? Will you finally find a way to be together in a way that works for you both? You don't know.
But you made it through this night together. Something tells you that you can make it through anything now.
******
The end?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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toournextadventure · 4 hours
Text
hate crime
Summary: No one knows what happened to Ghostface after his initial onslaught on New York City. Unfortunately for the population, he didn't disappear; he just got better.
Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: swearing, Scream violence, suggestive themes Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (movie night & a novel life masterlist)
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Rainy nights in New York City were the best. They gave way to those calm nights in the apartment that led to soft evenings and the best sleep of the week. If one was lucky, they would be able to grab a bite at Sofia’s and really live it up. A nice night, movies on the TV, and a half-finished pie on the counter? What else could a girl want?
A date. Cassidy wanted a date. Her boyfriend wasn’t a prick, but he was just stupid enough to not know the basics of a relationship. For instance, it was raining on a Saturday night? You invite your fucking girlfriend over so you can both get fucking laid. It wasn’t fucking rocket science. But no, he just had to watch the game with his fucking friends, and leave her to do absolutely nothing in her empty ass apartment.
Instead, she was alone. All alone, watching some shitty movie while he was probably having the time of his life.
Prick.
Well, at least she had ice cream to accompany her. A delicious pint of raspberry cheesecake. Just one bite was enough to transport her to heaven, and she would argue with anyone who thought otherwise. It had been long enough since Cassidy had put it in the freezer that it was just hard enough to make a nice bite, but not too hard to put up a fight.
It was perfect.
Cassidy’s phone vibrated loudly on the counter when she opened the cutlery drawer. It wasn’t all that unusual to get calls at odd hours; work, school, and friends made sure she kept her phone available at all times. And she answered them. So it was instinctual to pick up the phone and accept the call as she fished out a spoon and closed the drawer.
“I’m not interested,” she said before her friend on the other end could even speak.
“Uh, that’s good,” an unknown voice answered, “because I’m not selling.”
Cassidy’s brows narrowed. “Who is this?” She put the spoon in her mouth as she waited for an answer. A warm spoon was optimal for ice cream.
“A friend of a friend,” the voice said. It was hard to tell if it was a guy or a girl. “They dared me to call.”
“Friend of a friend?” She hummed, thinking about who it could be. “Was it David?”
The person on the other end of the line laughed. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”
“I knew it, that prick,” she sighed. It was no surprise it was David, he would do anything for a cheap laugh. “What do you get out of this shitty prank anyway?”
“Well, it depends,” the voice answered.
Cassidy leaned forward on her counter and smiled to herself. “On what?”
“How long I can keep you on the call,” they said, matching her tone. “Wanna split the $60?”
“Well,” she said, drawing the word out far longer than necessary as she grabbed her pint of ice cream and made her way to the living room. “I guess I can’t turn down $30.”
Cassidy pressed the phone between her cheek and shoulder while she moved. Her hip bumped against the recliner, but it didn’t phase her; she hit it more often than not. As she sat down in the chair, she could hear similar shuffling on the other end of the line. Nothing about it phased her.
“So,” the caller said, drawing out the “o” for far too long. “You doing anything exciting tonight?”
Cassidy chuckled humourlessly. “Yeah, me, myself, and I are really living it up.” She put a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and left it there as she turned on Scary Movie 5. How exciting.
“Well,” the caller said with a barely hidden laugh, “what are the three of you doing tonight?”
“A Scary Movie marathon.” She took another bite of her ice cream. “Probably for the fifth time this semester.”
“So you like them.”
“Love them,” she answered instantly. “I could watch them all day.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, then what’s your favourite Scary Movie?”
Cassidy looked down at her ice cream and scraped the spoon over the top. That was a pretty good question. The humour in each movie was top tier to her, and that wasn’t negotiable. She couldn’t compare them on that aspect because they all depended on which movies they were making fun of. But there was one movie that stood out from all the rest, she supposed.
“Probably the first one,” she finally said. “It’s a classic.”
“Isn’t that the one based on those Stab movies?”
“That’s the one,” she said with a singular nod that no one could see.
The movie continued to play on the screen.
“Have you ever seen the Stab movies?”
“Fuck no,” Cassidy said before the unknown voice could even finish the question. “Horror movies give me the creeps. Especially when they’re based on real people.” A minuscule shiver wracked her body as if to prove her point.
She heard a deep breath on the other end of the line. “You know, you really should watch the original.” Another breath. “It’s to die for.”
Something about the tone of that last sentence put Cassidy on edge. Perhaps it was simply because she was home alone while the storm continued to rage outside. None of her friends talked like that. Sure, this person was a friend of a friend, but it was still a bit odd.
This person was a bit odd. Was the $30 really worth talking to a weirdo all night? She could be settled with a blanket and paying attention to her movie. But no, she just had to answer the phone and accept a shitty deal. She would need to tell Heather about this whole weird situation later.
“Hey, how much longer until we get that money from David?” Cassidy asked. She couldn’t stop thinking about that last thing the person had said, but she chose to try and ignore it.
“Just a few more minutes,” the caller said in a breathy tone. It was creepy. “Which movie are you watching?”
“What?”
“For your marathon,” they clarified. “Which one?”
“Oh,” she chuckles humourlessly. Nervously.
She wasn’t so sure she wanted to tell the truth anymore. There was an uncomfortable feeling settling in her stomach. She hesitantly placed the half-empty pint of ice cream on the side table, soon accompanied by the spoon she had licked clean.
“The third one,” she finally answered.
“No you’re not.” A lump forced its way into her throat. “That’s the fifth.”
Her entire body was frozen while the words ran laps around her mind. What the hell was going on? Her nerves felt like they were engulfed in fire, leaving her simultaneously too hot and frozen. That wasn’t right. The words didn’t form any proper reason in her mind, but she understood the sinking feeling it left in her chest.
“How do you know which movie I’m watching?” She asked as she slowly stood up from her chair.
A heavy breath. “Because I can see your screen.”
As soon as the words pieced together in her head, Cassidy ran to her balcony window. The curtains were closed. They weren’t the only windows into her apartment, but they were the only ones that faced the TV. As far as she knew, no other window could see her screen; a deliberate furnishing choice on her part.
“Listen,” she said breathlessly as she stared at the closed curtains. “I’ll tell David we talked all night if you want.” There was no response. “You can even keep all the money.”
A taunting laugh.
“I never said I talked to David.”
Shit. Shit shit shit. She knew she should have hung up at first. Who the hell was this freak? It was New York City, there were plenty of freaks around, but this? This was just psychotic. Nobody in their right mind would do this shit!
She quickly tucked the phone between her cheek and shoulder again and grabbed the curtains with both hands-
“-Open it and I’ll slit your fucking throat.”
They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. How would they even get into the apartment? She froze and reconsidered. How else could they have known what was on her TV? God, what was going on? She thought about the ramifications for far too long before letting go of the curtains. They shifted for a few moments before finally settling back into place.
“Who are you?” Cassidy’s voice was weak.
“You assumed our mutual friend was David.” She waited impatiently. “But surely you haven’t forgotten our dear friend Anika.”
Cassidy laughed bitterly. “Are you fucking serious?” She stomped through the apartment to grab the ice cream and dirty spoon. “Did that loser and her freak girlfriend put you up to this?” She practically threw the ice cream back into the freezer. “Because it’s pathetic.”
Of course that freak had caused this. She hadn’t bullied Anika and Mindy for nothing. Cassidy was a patient soul, it was true, but even she had her limits. No one wanted to hear those weirdos talk about stupid movies 24/7, especially when it wasn’t necessary. Didn’t they know there were better, more important things in the world?
“Those are some strong opinions to have,” the caller said over the sound of the spoon hitting Cassidy’s sink. “Especially for someone in your position.”
She rested her hip on the counter. “And what position would that be?”
“You can open your balcony window now, Cassidy.”
The curtains of the balcony were swaying. If she strained her ears, she could hear the rain falling a little louder. Would it be smart to open the curtains and see what was out there? Or maybe she should just hang up, call the police, and let them deal with it. After all, the police had never done anything wrong to her, surely she could trust them.
But she wanted to know. She wanted to know what those freaks had managed to pull off all on their own. Cassidy wouldn’t have called them stupid; at least not Anika. But there was no way she would have said any of them were smart. They were all just a bunch of down on their luck kids who had gotten into Blackmoore out of pity, not intellect.
Whether she had fully intended to or not, she let her feet carry her toward the balcony. As she got closer, she could hear the rain and wind clearly; the balcony window was open behind the curtains.
“How do you know my name?” She asked even though it was a stupid question. If this person was friends with Anika, then that was how they knew.
Still.
“Everyone knows your name.”
She reached out and grabbed the curtain with both hands.
“Or they’re about to.”
Cassidy closed her eyes, threw the curtains open, and screamed. She used every ounce of breath and energy in her body to release the most blood curdling scream she could manage. But when she opened her eyes, the scream died down in her throat.
There was nothing on the balcony. The door was open, but there was nothing there. Not in the doorway, not on the actual balcony, and not across the street. Hell, the only thing she could see was the poor potted plant that she had let die last year and hadn’t thrown out yet.
This was all just some sick joke.
“You know, this is really pathetic,” Cassidy said calmly even though her heart was still pounding in her chest. “I’m calling the cops.”
“Fine, call them.” She grabbed her phone and looked for the “end call” button. “They’ll find out all about your dirty little secret.”
She froze.
“Turn around, Cassidy.”
Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. Mixed with the rain and wind coming in through the open balcony window that she couldn’t bring herself to close, it was deafening. She didn’t want to turn around. She didn’t want to see what could possibly be hiding behind her. It could all be some cruel joke and the apartment could be empty.
Or not.
She took a few short, quick breaths and braced herself before finally turning around quickly, nearly tripping over her own feet. There, in the middle of her apartment, was Heather. Heather, the best fuck she’d ever had, tied up in the chair like a piece of meat. There was a gash on her head that was dripping blood into her eyes, but aside from that there weren’t any other physical injuries.
“Heather?” Cassidy said in disbelief.
“Please help me,” Heather cried. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
Cassidy dropped the phone without hanging up. She didn’t care anymore. All of this had gone too far. Those creeps had crossed too many lines. Messing with her? Fine. It was pathetic, but fine. But finding her secret hookup? Didn’t they know she had a reputation? What would her boyfriend think if he found out? Actually, he would probably think it was hot. Maybe that was worse.
“Did Anika do this to you?” She asked as she attempted to untie the knots in the rope. It was probably the first time in her life she had ever regretted having acrylics.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Heather said with a sniffle. A drop of blood fell onto the rope. “Her and her geek friends are obsessed with this shit.”
“We’ll call the cops later,” Cassidy said. “I’m tired of their freaky, “poor us” bullshit.”
The ropes weren’t budging, and her fingers were feeling raw. How had they managed to do such a thorough job so quickly? Perhaps because, like she had known from the very beginning, they were all a bunch of freaks. A bunch of freaks who had no lives, no real friends, and no chance of living like normal people. She smirked to herself. They’d have one hell of a time getting any sort of job after college if she had anything to say about it-
-the floor creaked.
Cassidy’s fingers froze. There was only one place in her apartment that the floor creaked. And it wasn’t underneath her or Heather. She looked up slowly. First she saw Heather, sitting there impatiently and waiting for her to get her out. Then the gash on Heather’s face.
Then the cloaked figure standing behind her.
Then the Ghostface mask shrouded in a black hood.
The Ghostface tilted his head at her. She couldn’t move. It felt like the air had frozen in her lungs. She just had to kneel there and watch as he lifted a gloved hand with a giant knife and waved at her with two fingers. The knife was huge. His free hand lifted just as slowly and pushed the mask back inch by inch until she could see the bottom of his face.
The smile was accentuated by the deep scars stretching across both cheeks.
Cassidy opened her mouth to scream before something came from behind her and pressed against her throat.
She never made a sound.
—---
The pool of blood slowly inched across the tarp that had been carefully arranged underneath the two college girls. It was wide enough to catch any accidental splatter, yet thick enough to keep it from spilling out. A wise purchase for a wise killer. Or two.
Ghostface stepped forward, standing over the corpses. It wasn’t their proudest moment; there had been a few hitches in the plan. But when the result was the same, well, they supposed it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. They grabbed the mask and yanked it off.
“You jumped the gun,” Tara said breathlessly. The adrenaline was still running through her veins; she had grown to love it.
The second Ghostface removed their mask next.
“I know,” you said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.” You looked down at the corpses of your enemies with glee and disgust. “She’s just such a bitch.”
You both continued to stand there, neither one daring to make the first move. The silence after a kill was one of the more satisfying moments to you. No more screaming, no more steel cutting through flesh. Just the sounds of your breathing and the blood rushing through your ears.
“I didn’t know they were gay,” you finally said. “Or closeted, I guess.”
“I think Mindy said they were experimenting,” Tara speculated. “They both tried to hit on Anika at one point.”
You hummed in response and continued to look at them. Not that you had stopped. That was the one thing you didn’t think you would ever really get used to. Sure, your family business was… a bit risque on its own, but this was different. You would argue with Dicky all day every day, but knife wounds were more gruesome than gunshots.
“Does this make us homophobic?” You asked. “Was this a hate crime?”
“I-” Tara stopped and closed her mouth. It made you feel a little better that she had to think about it too. “No,” she finally said with a slow nod. “We’re doing the world a favour.”
You smiled. “God, I love you.”
“Love me while we clean up,” she demanded even though you saw her smile. “Get moving.”
The cleanup process, all of you agreed, was the worst part. It was methodical, time consuming, and boring. You would much rather spend the time with Tara, not cleaning up after the two bitches that bullied all of you like you were still in fucking highschool. Truly, it was almost embarrassing for them. You didn’t want to clean up after their mess again.
But you liked the time you got with Tara. Since the whole original Ghostface debacle, she had lightened up. She still bullied you, but honestly? It was a turn on. You wouldn’t dare tell her to stop. If there ever came a day that you didn’t want Tara Carpenter to bully you? It would be the end of the world.
Cleaning up with Sam, however, was a beast.
That’s why you stuck with Tara. Not just because you loved her, of course, but it was a wonderful bonding activity. You hadn’t wanted to bring her into the family business because, well, that was just dangerous. But this? It was nice. And honestly? It got the both of yours adrenaline going and usually led to some of the best date nights.
Maybe you both needed more therapy.
“The scary movie question was clever,” you said after you had finally managed to haul the tarp - and the corpses - to the trash chute.
“Thank you,” Tara said with a genuine smile. “I’m pretty proud of it.”
“You should be,” you encouraged. “I thought Cassidy was gonna hear me laughing.”
“You would’ve been sleeping on the couch,” Tara replied. She was serious, but you knew the truth; she would’ve slept on the couch with you.
The next stage of cleaning was far easier on the back. It was basic cleaning, to make the apartment look lived in, but not abandoned. And certainly not like a murder had occurred. Or, you supposed it was a double murder. God, you still couldn’t get over how much of a bitch Cassidy and Heather were. You really did feel a million pounds lighter now that they were gone.
“You know,” you said as you rested your hip on the counter while Tara made sure no fingerprints were anywhere. “Blood looks really good on you.”
“Shut up,” she said quickly. You still saw the blush on her cheeks.
You weren’t lying though. The dark, now-dried blood was a wonderful match to her eyes. It also looked lovely on her skin. You couldn’t really explain what it was; maybe it was the taboo of it all (you definitely needed more therapy). Whatever it was, it was almost like she was glowing.
Maybe you were just in love.
Tara was still checking the kitchen counter when you stepped up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist. Her body seemed to relax in your arms. Like instinct, she leaned back into you and you could hold her closer. You were like two pieces to the same puzzle; your bodies fit perfectly together.
“It’s kinda hot,” you said before placing a kiss on her cheek. She tasted faintly of copper.
“You’re just deranged,” she said softly.
“Only for you,” you said. Your next kiss was placed on her jaw.
“We can’t do this here,” she said with a sigh. “We’re almost done.”
“We haven’t cleaned the bedroom yet,” you offered. “And I’ve got another tarp in my bag.”
She didn’t argue.
“Think of it as an extra “fuck you” to Cassidy,” you continued. “We both know how much you hated her.”
Your arm pulled her tighter against you as you placed a third kiss right behind her ear. Just going off her silence alone, you knew she would cave. Tara did her best to keep things professional on the scene, but you knew how to win her over. And you knew how much she loved it.
“Okay,” she finally said. Whether she was aware of it or not, her head tilted to give you more access to her neck. “But only a quickie.”
“Seeing you like this?” You said as you bent down and swept an arm under her knees. She shrieked lightly before wrapping her arms around your neck. “I don’t think I could last very long anyway.”
You carried her to your bag and bent down so she could grab it before heading directly to the bedroom.
In the background, the credits of Scary Movie 5 rolled on the TV.
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autistichalsin · 2 days
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I tried to have this conversation a few weeks ago and it didn't go well, so after giving it time to calm down I am bringing it up now on my own page, about the importance of allowing fans who can't afford the game, or who otherwise can't play for themself due to disabilities, etc, a space in the fandom. And in particular, this involves deconstructing the idea that Let's Plays aren't a valid way to experience this media, and that people who didn't purchase the game don't belong here, both of which are harmful, classist, ableist ideas.
(Tone: genuine. Not angry or aggressive, but passionate.)
I want to say that as much as I enjoy playing BG3 and am glad I bought it, there really isn't anything that I have gained, in terms of understanding of the plot, lore, characters, relationships, etc, that I didn't already have when I was watching Let's Plays and using the datamined dialogues exclusively. Nor has my emotional experience been significantly different in any measurable way. I mean, I WAS very happy to recruit and romance Halsin in a way that I didn't feel when I watched a Let's Play, but that's it. It didn't change my understanding of, or feelings towards, him at all. I knew Halsin's entire story before, and I knew his entire story after, too. My feelings on each and every one of Halsin's scenes has remained exactly the same.
There wasn't any character I thought was a bad guy who I saw something new in when I played for myself, or vice-versa. I didn't have any paradigm shifts in my understanding of the plot. The bad guy was still a Nether Brain controlled by the Chosen of the Dead Three in each playthrough. The good guys were still a group of traumatized weirdos (/affectionate). Astarion was still a victim of rape and slavery, Shadowheart was still a cult escapee, and Halsin still struggled with the burdens of leadership. There were still choices that could make the companions bar Jaheira and Minsc fall in love with you, and choices that could make them despise you. There were still choices that could push some of the characters to be better or worse versions of themselves. There were still a lot of notes and books to pick up, some of which were important to the lore, some of which provided random factoids about bit characters you may find interesting or may find useless, and many of which were completely useless and a waste of inventory space. I didn't learn anything new in the informational sense, about the plot, the characters, the flow of the game, nothing.
(Well, there was ONE different thing, which was that I ended up being an edge case where I accidentally shot Lae'zel with my arrow when trying to free her and got yelled at by her for it. Does that actually count as a unique-to-playing revelation though? Everyone who watched me stream that day would have learned about it too.)
I didn't experience some overwhelming emotional shift in response to the events onscreen that wasn't there when I watched Let's Play, either, which is also an argument that has been made. There's been a case presented that it's not so much that the events themselves change but that playing somehow alters your emotional response which affects how you view the plot and characters. But that didn't happen for me, either. I didn't go from "I do not care one single solitary fuck about Barcus Wroot" to "oh my god I will give this poor liddol guy the world." I still do not care about him. I didn't go from "yay, the moon lesbians are free!" to some sort of more intense emotion like "omg I'm going to cry now!" I still love them and am happy they're free, but hardly moved to tears. I didn't go from "fuck Orin" to "MEGA fuck Orin." Making the choices and fighting the battles myself didn't change anything for me in that sense. There was no emotion I hadn't already felt before that came to me in my own playthrough. Every emotion I had when watching a Let's Play was almost exactly the same when I played the game for myself.
If anything, the only real change was that I started to have annoyance as a sort of background radiation for about 90% of the companions because I kept accidentally talking to them when trying to click on items and things, and I got really fucking tired of hearing their greetings? "Shut up, Astarion, I wanted to loot the corpse, not talk to you, please back the fuck up. Why is my party always halfway up my ass? Personal space, guys?" Otherwise nope.
My understanding of canon, my understanding of the characters, my emotional resonance to the events that happened, those were all exactly the same. I literally don't know what people are referring to when they say that there was some magical new dimension of feeling that can only be unlocked when you are the one playing. Whatever that magic was certainly wasn't there for me, and that disproves the idea it's "impossible" to fully experience the game through LPs, because having played the game, I can say that I DID get the full experience through LPs. Maybe some people can't get the full feel of things by watching, which is 100% valid, but some people very much can. I did both, and I can tell you that they conferred 98% similar intellectual and emotional experiences.
In fact, I'd argue that there's more of a difference between playing as a Tav or an Origin vs playing as a Dark Urge than there is between playing yourself vs watching an LP, but I don't often see the case made that people who haven't completed a Durge playthrough don't understand the game properly and therefore can't/shouldn't contribute their analyses/interpretations of canon to the fandom. And I mean, there is some HEAVY lore you only get in a Durge playthrough. You would have a FAR better case that completing/watching a Durge playthrough is the event that marks you as understanding/having a complete knowledge of canon than you would that playing the game yourself instead of watching someone else do it is, though I still wouldn't ultimately agree that it's a prequisite.
People who watch LPs are valid, your way of experiencing the game is valid, and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise because honestly, people who gatekeep are never worth listening to in the first place. The idea that your understanding becomes more complete when playing yourself isn't true for everyone. You can say they weren't the same experience for you, and that is PERFECTLY valid and understandable, but that's only you. You can't say what others are and aren't able to feel when playing vs watching Let's Plays. The only correct statement here is "some people are able to fully comprehend the plot through Let's Plays, and some aren't, and the mode of consuming the game ultimately doesn't determine whether a person belongs here. Both groups still belong in the fandom and have just as valid opinions to contribute as the others."
Further, I have seen absolutely brilliant, on-point analyses from people who only watched Let's Plays, and absolutely horrible, nuclear hot takes from people who spend all day playing the game. Just the other day, for example, I legitimately witnessed a Redditor VEHEMENTLY argue that 1. There was a scene in the game where Halsin called Thaniel "beautiful", 2. This nonexistent scene was ABSOLUTE proof that Halsin was a pedophile, and 3. Halsin's time as a sex slave had clearly caused him to become a pedophile. People who had seen only the intro of the game on an LP would STILL have a better understanding of canon than this person who claimed to have played dozens of times. If we're going to judge people's understanding of the game, it should be based on the understanding their posts convey directly, not based on assumptions about who can absorb what amount of information through what mode of consuming the game.
So I repeat: LP watchers, you're fine. Enjoy fandom in a way you can experience. You shouldn't be locked out of discussion of the game just because you can't afford hundreds of dollars for a game system. To suggest otherwise would be appallingly cruel and exclusionary behavior, on the level of saying bootleg watchers can't be part of discussions about Broadway shows. You all belong. You don't have to buy your way into a fandom space.
And bringing it to that issue: yes, Let's Plays ARE an absolute necessity for both poor people and for people with certain disabilities (blindness, since the game doesn't have a narrative-only mode, and severe disabilities affecting the hands being the two that jump to mind right away). Gatekeeping fandom from poor people based on whether they've bought an expensive game and gaming setup, much like being an anti-bootleg Broadway fan, serves the sole purpose of shaming and punishing poor fans for not properly engaging in the capitalist system. I know the intention isn't to gatekeep the poor and people with certain disabilities from the fandom, but that ends up being the effect when this particular argument gets made.
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littlelesbinonny · 15 hours
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The Devil's Den
Chapter 45: In Which Quicksand Is Less Than Quick
You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293
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"Don't make it weird."
"What do you mean?"
"Just... don't make it weird."
"Make what weird?!"
Cassandra gave Daniela a look as she sucked her blood cocktail through the glass straw in her tall cup, tilting her head causing the messy bun atop to flop, "when they come out tonight; don't. Make it. Weird."
Daniela narrowed her eyes still leaning on the marble countertop with a near-scowl at her sister, "why do you think I'm going to make it weird? When did I give the inclination I'm going to make it weird?"
"You haven't," Bela added with a sly smile, "you just tend to get excited about stuff. Sometimes weirdly excited."
Daniela pushed herself off the countertop and threw her hands in the air with some exasperation, "is weird my new default adjective? When have I ever made something so weird that you two speak of?"
Cassandra and Bela exchanged glances.
"Dani." The brunette enunciated.
"CUH-SAAAWN-DRUH." Daniela exaggerated back.
"Dude!" Bela hissed, "shhh, they are still sleeping - let it go -" she pointed at them both, then to Cassandra, "don't be a pest," pointing now to Daniela, "just be chill... k?"
Daniela tsked, "I will, god," she huffed leaning back down onto the countertop, "am I like the only one interested in mom's new girlfriend?"
"No, I'm excited to get to know her," Bela replied, "this one is clearly not going anywhere and I, for one, am happy for mother. She will more than likely be a big part of our lives now, at least, if she isn't ready to run from her first introduction to our world." She giggled.
"Yeah, Mother Miranda certainly gave her a dramatic welcoming, if you can call it that. Not sure how I'd feel getting sucked into a war that had nothing to do with me, then have to kill said person who sucked me in, tried to kill me, and then... yeah wow, what the fuck, that poor girl is probably traumatized as shit."
With a large dramatic sigh Cassandra pulled her other knee up to her chest on the bar stool and put her glass down on the counter, tugging at her oversized forest green zip-up hoodie back around her angled shoulder, "most likely, and with what they both went through the last three days I'll actually be a little surprised if they make it out of the bedroom tonight." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully at her sisters.
"Ew. Gross. Why."
"Oooo, so they didn't do any of the nasty last night?" Cass grinned at the redhead, "I figured with your bedroom being the closest you'd have - "
"Oh! My fuck!" Daniela spat, "No! I didn't hear anything. That's the last thing I'd ever be listening for, Jesus."
Cassandra cackled and Bela shook her head.
~
Waking up to Alcina like this was a whole new sort of feeling.
You were in her bed, in her home, in the underworld, safe under her watch and care.
Some sort of twisted invigoration spurred through you, and with that sleep drunk smile on your face you nuzzled back into her with a sigh of contentment. This really felt like home.
"Mmm," Alcina hummed sleepily herself, "my mighty warrior, awake..." she grinned with her eyes still closed as she wrapped her arms about you tightly, brushing her lips over the top of your head nestled under her chin, "have you slept well?"
Nodding mutely, you took a deep breath and sighed, "you?"
She hummed low in her chest and it rattled lusciously against your cheek.
"When you are in my arms, the dead have nothing on me."
You chuckled, still very groggy, "I give the term sleeping like the dead new meaning, huh?"
"Definitely new and improved."
Pressing your face further under her neck, you relished how relaxed and comfortable you were, knowing if you were to stay here for much longer you'd likely pass back out. It didn't sound like too bad of an idea, really. Before you'd both climbed into bed, you were worried about getting back to your life above ground; stressing over what kind of mess you would be facing to clean up. Now, in the bliss of this, you were on the brink of forgetting it all.
"What time is it?" you eventually uttered begrudgingly against yourself.
Alcina, just as procrastinating as you, lazily looked to the golden clock on the far wall in the dim light and squinted, "it appears to be midnight."
"Dammit all," you mumbled, "I don't want to go."
"So don't," Alcina replied softly, "stay. You needn't leave for any reason unless you just want to."
Again you sighed and closed your eyes, "just up and leave my life like aliens abducted me?"
"Why not?"
A stupidly completely valid point. So valid you couldn't, or maybe perhaps didn't want to, counter it with reason. Were you really going to go back to your job? Your desk prison? What was left up there in the human world aside from Malka? Nothing would ever be the same now.
"Listen, you're taking advantage of my sleepy state and making too much sense. I've at least got to go get my plants and clothes."
Alcina chuckled deliciously and rolled you over, peppering you with slow sweet kisses everywhere, "draga mea, I can't help but indulge my selfishness," her nose nuzzled your earlobe, "I promised to take you home, and so I shall, as much as I'd like to keep you here. Decisions can be made later, if you must keep me pining."
"Well I certainly don't want to be the cause of you pining."
"Oh," she moaned, "but you're sooo good at it dragoste."
You both giggled and gave into the last few minutes of unbothered happiness before finally rising and getting ready. Well, Alcina got ready, you made a half-effort attempt at just making yourself presentable to make it out of the underground and to your apartment.
Though, you did get to watch your lady of the night dress and put on her makeup, and that was a treat that made the choice of choosing to live down here so much more tempting.
She was meticulous but fast in all her application. Now whether that was from your necessity to get home or just how she did this every night you weren't sure, but the woman had you captivated in the simple tasks and you blushed without regret when she caught you studying her in the mirror.
Alcina smirked through her last swipe of red lipstick and hummed, "see something you like?"
Her voice was cool and tinted with the bedroom tone that made you all but swoon, and you shook your head through a nasally huff, "only everything," you smiled.
Rising from the vanity bench, you took your bottom lip between your teeth as she stood before you now fully prepared to take on the night. She wore a pair of loose black pleated pants, much like the ones she'd taken Mother Miranda down in, looking flawless as she did, and a maroon chiffon blouse that was tucked into said trousers with a simple yet elegant black belt with a gold buckle cinched around her waist. If the underworld had a Miranda Priestley, Alcina would be it. She looked like an unintended seductress; too regal, too beautiful, to not be completely dangerous.
Alcina smirked and sauntered over to you perched on the chez lounge, leaned down and took your chin into her grasp, "you make this too easy." She sighed as she kissed you through a smile.
"What?" You inquired as you caught her glimmering grey hues.
"Adoring you."
~
Her daughters were in the kitchen as you two were leaving, and it seemed they were even more awkward about the whole thing than you were, at least in Daniela's case. She knocked over her wine glass on the attempt to straighten her posture and address you and her mother as you passed. Alcina merely rolled her eyes as she went to grab her trench coat.
"I shall return shortly, girls." She stated, trying to hide her amused grin.
Tangled 'ok's' and 'mhm's' were muttered in response. Cassandra and Bela gave you kind nods and small smiles. Daniela gave a weak, unsure kind of wave of her hand and more of a toothy grin, and then Alcina was tugging you by the arm out of the manor.
You did not ask for clarification on that situation.
Meanwhile, not moments after the door had latched, Cassandra grinned smartly. 
"Told you you were going to make it weird."
"Oh shut up!"
Bela with a huff and loud eyeroll, she removed herself from the counter, leaving her sisters there to do as they may and headed upstairs to the turret.
~
Now that you were able to really take in your surroundings, the underworld city of vampires and lycans was seriously impressive. The cavern in which this place was so intricately built made you genuinely question what else about life was hidden under human noses. To think that an entire city hid under the bustling state that was New York made you feel childlike in the wonder of it all; a world within a world that no one knew about. You loved it. It was so beautiful, so terrifying, and so meticulously kept. There was no trash to be found in any corner, nothing broken, or run-down, no stains on the cobblestone or cracks in the sidewalks, let alone the buildings that still looked brand new aside from their ole world architecture. And, there was no vegetation either you realized. The street lamps were bright, and the buildings emitted light of their own from windows, but there was no natural occurring light down here at all. It was a little claustrophobic at first, but overall it was a wonderous sight. 
As the two of you walked, you noticed it was rather empty and quiet. Either everyone was still slumbering or they were out in the city feeding or doing whatever it is vampires and lycans do. Eventually you did pass a couple vampires as you got closer to the edge of the city; their glances were long yet attempted to be understated as they eyed you, but shallow bows were offered in silence as Alcina lead you on.
She held your arm on hers proudly without any noticeable disturbance from how they gazed at the two of you. You smiled. That aura of pure prowess of hers emanated at great length.
Getting out of the underground was even more intriguing to you since you'd been unconscious when Miranda's heathens brought you here. The tunnels were pitch black in some areas as you went and you held just a little tighter to Alcina's arm. You couldn't see it but you were pretty sure she was smirking stoutly at your literal blind trust.
As light began to syphon slowly down the current corridor you walked, your eyes adjusted accordingly and your grip loosened, and before long you were coming up several sets of stairs and into the belly of a church. This must be St. Patrick's. The events that took place last time you were here set off the tumbling of dominoes that oddly enough lead you to this very moment. You wondered how that situation had been handled and if -
"What in Gods name has been happening?!"
A voice halted you and Alcina with a jerk.
Alcina didn't miss a beat.
"Ah, and good evening to you as well, Father."
A disheveled looking priest was now in front of the both of you, his wide bloodshot eyes and tired expression trying to hide under the facade of, well, several expressions. You recognized him from before and he looked even worse for wear than last time.
"What has happened?!" The father asked again, throwing his gaze between the two of you, finally setting to staring at Alcina as though he was parched, "I've had to shut the church down for two days! The - the - those things! Hundreds of them! Came barreling through here! And the rumbling and - and - explosions? Th-the sounds coming up from the tunnels! I've not had any sleep - I haven't left - I sent everyone home - I -"
"Father," Alcina said, halting his rambling and heavy breath, "rest assured, everything has been handled."
His face went blank before erupting into another twisted grimace, "what does everything mean!?"
Alcina, in a most uncharacteristic fashion, placed her palm on the priests shoulder and squeezed it softly, "you will give yourself a heart attack if you do not relax," she mused, tilting her chin upwards slightly before taking another paused breath, eying him intently, "the everything of which I speak is that very threat we all faced. The ones who mauled and killed your deacon? Well, they have been neutralized. It's over, Father."
Watching the worry and tension melt off of him was nearly comical. You weren't sure if he was going to collapse to the floor by the news and you glanced up carefully to Alcina who looked all the more pillar-like as she seemed to hold this man together somehow.
"Oh..." the word fluttered from his parted lips, "I... that is... that is wonderful news," he sighed and dropped his gaze most heavily, "I feared the worst... the silence over the last several hours has had me on edge - I - I assumed those... white-eyed creatures would emerge from the underground again and it would be over."
Straightening her spine, Alcina cocked an eyebrow, "Father Sullivan," she uttered slyly, though you could hear the hint of playfulness, "that might be the most hurtful thing you've ever said to me."
You watched as the horror and worry returned to his face as he peered to Alcina with his jaw dropped again in the need to defend himself.
Alcina grinned most eagerly, "to think we, and I, have defended this world and your church for so long, and you assume some fancy-fangled new breed of vampire could swoop in and take us down?" She placed both hands on her hips and huffed, "I must say I'm a little disappointed in you."
Her wink finally lessened the leash of his fear again. 
He started to laugh, taking his quivering hands and running them along his weathered cheeks with a smile emerging, "I doubt I will ever be able to fully follow your wicked calm and sense of humor, Lady Dimitrescu, but I am grateful to you, as I always have been, despite our differences and disagreements."
"Think nothing of it, Father. Relax. As I have told you many, many times in the past, you are far too uptight for your own good. Everything is under control. You are safe, your priests and deacons are safe, your church is safe. And now, I really must be getting this lovely lady home." She smiled over at you.
"Oh, oh yes," he sputtered and swallowed, nodding at you with a weak smile, "forgive me, how rude I have been," he outstretched his hand for you to shake, "I am Father Sullivan... and you are?"
You took his hand but before you could reply, Alcina was introducing you for you, proudly.
"And she is half the reason for the armies defeat and that we are all safe... she is to pass freely in and out of your church without question."
Father Sullivan nodded, "yes, of course. You may come and go as you please. The side door where Alcina will lead you is always unlocked for her kind, you may use it the same."
Alcina smiled once more before taking your arm in hers, "thank you, Father. Now go home and rest. I will visit you soon to discuss matters."
You could tell he was far too exhausted to say anything else. He folded his hands in front of him, bowed his head graciously, and then you parted ways.
Your apartment looked very much the same as you left it. But the notifications on your phone were anxiety inducing. 
16 missed calls and 4 voicemails. Work, Malka, and your co-worker Blair. Oh boy.
While you were looking through your texts and listening to your voicemails, Alcina was checking to make sure all locks on your windows and doors were still operational and nothing was broken from your kidnapping. Perhaps the best of news was that everything seemed fine.
She turned to you as you sighed heavily while leaning against your kitchen counter, plopping your phone onto the surface while rubbing your face with aggravation.
"That bad?" she asked resting her hand on your shoulder, eyeing you sincerely.
"It's not so much bad, it's just chaotic," you mumbled, finally locking eyes with her, "everyone is freaking out that I've vanished. I've been gone two days, going on three. Blair said my boss is reaching out to authorities, soooo I've gotta come up with some kind of story as to where I've been, and dear god I do not want to deal with police. I have no idea what I'm going to tell everyone. And then there's Malka who is worried as hell, especially since she... erm, well, knows about you and what's kinda been going on. I texted her first and told her to call me when she wakes up."
Alcina narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, trailing her hand down your back while leaning on the counter next to you, "let me worry about the police," she instructed, "I'll deal with that if your employer has contacted them."
You tossed your eyes to her with confusion, "how?"
"Draga mea, you forget already how far my reach is?" She smirked, "the deep city officials and our kind have worked together for over a century, remember? Who do you think has to play clean-up whenever a vampire or lycan gets out of line and causes a disturbance? Don't worry about them, I will take care of it for you."
Shaking your head with a bit of relief, you chuckled at her, "you never fail to blow my mind."
"A cherished pastime," Alcina smiled brighter, grabbing for your hands and holding them to her lips, "now, about your story."
Staring with a sigh, you shrugged your shoulders, "I'm drawing a blank. I'm a shit tier liar."
"Mmm... perhaps you were struck by a vehicle in a crosswalk and have been in the hospital. You of course asked said hospital to call your work, but we all know the incompetence of the medical profession from time to time, so the call was never made, therefore it isn't your fault you've been "missing", but you are mending and will likely need... two, three weeks off work to recover?"
Her twinkling eyes and greedy smile made you giggle, not to mention the decently detailed story fabrication.
"Have you been concocting this for a while?" You chuckled.
Alcina grinned, "the walk may have given way to some inspiration."
"And I'm sure the two to three week recovery period has everything to do with my injury and not your ploy to spend more time with me, right?"
"What an insinuation!" Alcina pursed her lips, "of course it has to do with your injuries. You may have a horrible concussion, draga! Perhaps whiplash, broken bones even? The possibilities of such an accident really are endless... you may even need a month to fully recover, but I must speak to your doctor to be sure."
You were fully laughing now, "and who might my doctor be, ma'am?"
"Well that would be the Attending Physician Dr. Beneviento; Donna Beneviento, draga mea - we've known each other for many years, you know. She's brilliantly smart, one hell of a physician."
Her unwavering smile made the majority of your worry dissipate as the story did hold merit if it could be pulled off.
"So what, you give Donna a call; give her the details; she works her magic, and poof - I have a doctors note?"
Alcina nodded, "that's about it, yes. Just say the word and it is done."
"Well, this makes more sense than anything I could probably come up with. I guess it's a couple week long recouperation for me under your, erm, Dr. Benevientos' watchful care, huh?"
"Mm yes, I think so."
"Good," you said as a twinkling of mischief appeared in your own yes, "that'll give me plenty of time to get my shit in order and for you and Malka to meet."
The sharp turn that sentence gave Alcina played out perfectly and you were fighting your urge to laugh. Watching her struggle with the glee that you were free for several weeks to a very clear 'damn you' was everything you needed right now.
Draping your arms over her shoulders you kissed her cheek over and over, "I think it's cute."
"Mmm?" She hummed, securing her hands on your lower back.
"Your jealousy."
'"I am not jealous," Alcina replied all to quickly, looking at your smirking face inches from her, desperately trying to believe her own lie, "I am simply protective."
It was your turn to raise your eyebrow, "well then meeting her should put all of that at ease."
Doing all she could not to roll her eyes, Alcina narrowed them and pulled you tightly against her, kissing your lips light and tender, "if it pleases you, draga mea... I shall."
"It would please me greatly."
"Fine."
Kissing her through another smile you sighed once more, feeling like there was some control back in your grasp.
Alcina returned the smirk, but hesitated to let go of you, "I suppose this means I need to get back to the underworld and speak with Donna," she sighed, "my life is going to be very interesting over the next few weeks... will you be staying here?"
You tilted your head in contemplation briefly, "maybe I should until it mellows out down there?"
"Your presence will more than likely be demanded when the clan leaders show up in groves."
Your eyes bugged, "I have to meet more leaders? Didn't I already do that?" 
"Only the local branches of my area, the rest will undoubtedly be on their way as the news of Mother Miranda's death reaches far and wide. Remember, there are nine clans."
Your head spun for a second, "wait, I thought the council members that I met were those leaders?"
"Mm, no draga, those are the local heads of this particular section of the underworld; vampire and lycan. The ones I speak of are like me; matriarchs and patriarchs of their own cities."
"Oh god," you dropped your head, "I dunno if I'm cut out for vampire politics."
Alcina chuckled brightly, "you aren't being put on trial dragoste, that will be for Ethan and Mia. You will simply be a local celebrity, as it were. You helped me take down one of the oldest and most infamous of our kind... that in itself, outside the fact you are a mysterious creature yourself, will have curious admirers dying to meet you."
Your visage flattened, "a terrible, terrible pun."
She kissed the tip of your nose, "if I must meet Malka -"
"That is COMPLETELY diff - "
Alcina placed a long slender finger to your lips and smiled, "you'll be wonderful and well received, I promise you."
The scowl you bore weakened and you huffed once more through her immobilizing beauty, "Un. Fair. You forget I'm just a boring tiny human in a big world of beautiful vampires and fearsome lycans. I'm not used to the glamourous, big to-do's you all... do, or whatever."
"Dragoste," she cooed, "you are not human, and the life you have lived has not been kind nor nurturing of you and your power. You - are a mighty Fae - and the world in which I govern is more for you than I think you might realize. Give it a chance. Believe me, it is not all grandeur and glory. But being with those more of your calibre might suit you."
You considered her words. Maybe she was right.
Maybe.
"It's still scary," you admitted, "I feel like a flopping fish out of water in pretty much every aspect of my life right now... I haven't had a lot of time to really digest it and... it's pretty surreal. Everything has happened so fast. I was like, normal last spring, before I met you," you teased, "then I find out vampires are real. I fall in love with you. I start to change and have no idea what's happening. Malka tells me I'm magickal - then all of a sudden my powers show up - THEN mutant vampires attack your city, we take on a deranged vampire and kill her, aaaand now life is supposed to... what, go back to normal? What the fuck even is normal now?"
Her smile was soft as she caressed the side of your face, "I understand. You're right, what is normal? But you have me. And... Malka, and Donna, and even Karl, Angie, and anyone else you choose to confide in - you won't be alone in the journey, draga mea. I am with you the whole way."
The surrealness really was setting in now that you'd said it out loud. Grasping it was harder than holding sand.
You plopped your head into Alcina's chest and held her tight, "thank you... It feels so strange."
Alcina understood the conundrum well. She too had her whole life flipped upside-down. From one moment dying in bed, to a choice that gave her immortality. How does one not go mad at the thought?
"If it is any consolation, you aren't strange. You are simply walking a very unique path now," she squeezed you firmly, "a whole new world and life is at your fingertips."
While it felt like a blip of an eternity had gone by standing in your kitchen embraced by your vampire in silence, you pulled back and looked at her, "so... what now?"
"As I said earlier, I need to get back to speak with Donna to get your work off your back. Then find out what knots in the city need untangled, deal with the mutant problem, see the hidden underground where Miranda was hiding all this time with said mutants, and meet with the clan leaders as they show up. There will also be a very interesting trial for Miranda's little nuisance minions; Mia and Ethan."
Her wicked glimmer of a smile said without words she couldn't wait for that. 
Once more Alcina traced her finger over the side of your face, "if I don't see you until then, I will be here tomorrow night." She then eyed you firmly, "what do you need from me until then, draga mea?"
"Nothing, you've got it under control babe. I'll wait patiently for my Queen of the Underworld to return to me."
She scoffed, but smiled, "more power was everything I didn't want, and now look at me."
"I think it's kinda hot."
"You would," she shook her head, cupping your face, "and indulging you is hard to resist."
~
Upon reentering the underground, Alcina reached into her trench coat pocket and retrieved her small brass cigarette case; plucked one from the lip and lit it with a similar lighter as she walked, eyeing her surroundings with a new sensation.
This was all hers now. Untampered. Without an absent thumb pressing down upon her any longer.
She would reign over her people with more understanding and openness than ever before. Her hands would no longer be tied by a tyrant who wanted her to bake her a cake with half the ingredients. These were her people, all of them, and she would do all she could to be the leader they all deserved and more; not for her vanity, but for the good of their livelihood and the future that was inevitable. Her role didn't seem so cumbersome anymore. Somehow, in the dramatic events that had occurred, she felt sturdy and honored with her title. The once looming threat of her silent, lurking enemies seemed far from her now. She didn't feel the poisonous glances she'd experienced for the last several decades, no, she felt no lingering trace of danger at all. She'd made her stake. Her claim. A bloody, deadly demand for respect that would echo for centuries to come. If one were to be so bold to challenge her now, somewhere in the depths of her soul she felt no qualms with fear or hesitance. Why that was she may never know, but it felt good either way.
Change would come, and she would meet and forge it. And she wanted you by her side through it. If it were at all possible.
Turning down the cobblestone towards City Hall in her quest to find Donna, Alcina heard commotion as she approached the inner city. She came to find several groups of vampire and lycan alike, huddled and gathered around large amounts of stone and construction gear, blueprints being passed and scoured over, and sounds of work being executed further off down another street. Repairs were already underway; she loved how quickly things were happening.
Almost on cue as she thought about who was responsible for such promptness, Dmitri, Mitch and Sylvia came out of City Hall conversing amongst themselves, handing off more papers and orders to workers and continued on with their task. She stopped and stood to admire the scene, but as her eyes moved around something different about City Hall caught her eye.
Narrowing her vision as she looked up the facade of the grand building, there above the large stone entrance was a bloodied, mangled mess of long blonde hair tacked just above the towering double doors.
Alcina took a very long drawn out drag as she studied it.
"I see you've found Angie's handiwork," Donna stated unamused as she approached her friend from behind, coming to stop at her side and look as well.
Without a breath of an expression on her face aside from her narrowed eyes, Alcina let the smoke blow from her red lips as she tapped the ash from the tip of her cigarette onto the stone at her feet.
Donna wasn't sure if she should panic, "I can have it removed immediat -"
"No," Alcina cut her off, a smirk tugging now at her lips, "leave it," she looked over to Donna taking a shorter puff, "but at least confirm the rest of her body, whatever might be left after your vulture of a sister, and no doubt Heisenberg took from it, made it to the sun tower?"
Unable to hide her own smile, Donna nodded but didn't get to answer.
"I can confirm that on behalf of Miss Beneviento," Dmitri offered approaching the women, tucking his long white hair behind an ear, "that tower was sealed over an hour ago with my supervision. Miranda's jaw remains in Karl's possession, I'm not entirely sure what Angie took, but the skull fragment," he motioned to the hall, "is all that's left otherwise. Not my choice of decoration, but, it does make a suitable statement."   Alcina shook her head and tongued her teeth, "I suppose there is no subtlety about her death. Perhaps it's a statement that needs made... I'm sure the clan leaders well let me know." She smiled.
"Yes, and speaking of that," Donna began, "Marguerite will be here by the end of the night. I've received word from a few others, but I assume in no more than three days time, all clan leaders will be accounted for. The council will adjourn to address the happenings and I've been busy gathering all intel for it. I sent Mateo with several of Karl's military to Miranda's manor in Connecticut, and Dmitri has several of his people working with Salvatore in the secret lair Miranda built here collecting whatever we can."
"Ah, yes," Alcina remarked, "I would like to see this place as soon as it is feasible."
"I can take you whenever you are ready." Dmitri affirmed with a nod.
"Excellent, but first I must speak with Donna." Alcina said grasping her arm softly, "Dmitri, may I meet you here in half an hour?"
He nodded graciously and the two women set off inside City Hall.
The half hour that was spent inside the disheveled council room seemed to take much shorter than Alcina realized. Donna was happily running 100 miles an hour to get your needs in order. She was carrying the cell phone Angie had hidden in the house and used it to contact her and explain her duty in the workings for your cover. Alcina proclaimed she was judging her quite harshly, as she knew if her daughters found out she'd never hear the end of it. Donna simply shrugged and begrudgingly admitted cell phones were handier than she cared to admit. But they finalized and mobilized to get you taken care of and Alcina was then seeking out Dmitri.
Miranda's hideout was quiet literally next door to them. In the furthest reaches of abandoned tunnels at the North end of the city, hidden behind a faux wall, lay one entrance to her lair. It was a ridiculously obvious choice to make as she normally came from the North East tunnels from her Connecticut abode. But, no one had any reason to go looking or snooping, though the agitation remained for Alcina that this had all been done right under their noses.
There was a steep drop to a long set of winding stone stairs that lead to the belly of the cavern. The ceiling was no where near as tall as the city's, and it felt cramped for all things considered. But it was large. Easily half the size of Alcina's city. Which made for a nice fit for her army that were standing about mindless, unmoved, and vacant of all light behind their eyes under the watch of several of Dmitri's soldiers. 
Alcina couldn't help but seem a semblance of sorrow for them as she walked through, following Dmitri to what she assumed to be an important area of this whole debacle.
Through the vast, dim, elongated cavern, they came to an area to the right that had a single red door that was halfway open. As they approached, Dmitri motioned for Alcina and ushered her in.
This room looked nothing like the rest of this place.
Clearly this was Miranda's chambers. The walls were covered in papers with notes, maps, and pictures. The myriad of tables and benches were filled with similar paperwork. Off in the far corner was a bed well made, a small vanity, and a wardrobe with several articles of clothing. Alcina gritted her teeth briefly before Dmitri approached her with a leather back journal.
"We've found countless, heavily detailed, hand-written documentation of Mother Miranda's escapades down here... this is one of her personal diaries. I thought you may want to look it over," he said handing it to her. 
Taking it slowly from him she peered down and began to flip through the article. Her handwriting was very clean for cursive, and Alcina mused only a little on the words as Dmitri continued.
"I've not gathered this room up entirely as I wanted you to see it."
"Have you given your people any time to rest, or did you begin this immediately after my command to go and rest?" She smirked with a knowing gaze.
Dmitri bowed his head shallowly with a smile, "you know me far too well to know that I sit by idly when things need done. These matters needed attending to. I won't deny my gnashing curiosity for Miranda's activities lead me on to find answers. I feel we're scratching the surface at best; the piles and stacks of... all of this has been extensive. And, there's many more where that came from, but the journal you hold is the most recent. The more we dug, we found some dating back nearly twenty years."
"Twenty years?" Alcina repeated looking up from the pages with disbelief.
Dmitri nodded, "this has been in the works for a very long time, it seems. Though, this is not the worst of it."
"I would assume not. What else have you discovered?"
"An experimentation room."
Those three words made her stomach churn.
"Show me."
42 notes · View notes
skullvgirl · 2 days
Text
a strange dream | barou
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incl. barou 🎀 ( he would kill me )
warnings. completely sfw, fluff, school!au, fem reader, very much ooc, slow burn
an's. i missed him so much i had to revisit
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BAROU probably hasnt got any interest in you before your relationship, not in a bad way but lets be honest—he's a soccer addict, he definitely wouldn't notice you until well, he did.
you're both sitting in math class (which did i mention had one hell of alot of students) and someone from the other side of the room asks to pass a note to you, rumor has it they've got a crush.
eventually the note ends up in the large hands of Barou Shouei and he's of course expected to pass it along to you but doesn't see anyone ahead of him expecting to receive it from him. he's confused—who the hell was yn ?
its his bad—he really wasnt to familiar with anything not soccer related.
he looked around, then finally decided to give the piece of paper back to the person he got it from—whoever that was.
you look at barou confused, so the paper was for you? you had originally gave it too him because you weren't sure if the people mumbling in the back of the classroom were really talking about you or not.
you opened your mouth to whisper-yell at him, but he wasn't paying attention to you anymore, his eyes trained on the teacher once again.
you uncrumpled the paper, trying to be as quiet as possible in the dead silence, but with no luck.
"yn?!"
shit
"yes miss?", you hid the paper under the desk, trying not to make eye contact with the 28 other students that had eyes on you.
"care to share with the class whats so important that you need to be passing notes in my class?"
fuck
reason #1 why you really hated this class, your math teacher was a fucking bitch.
'mean girl giggles' echoed throughout the room, barous eyes paying special attention to what you were about to do.
you dreaded the feeling of being forced to stand up in front of the entire class and read aloud whatever was written on the small note.
"get to it missy"
oh fuck off
you looked around the classroom trying to assess anyone who may have been distressed or embarrassed but with no luck, everyone seemed to be waiting on you.
weird...
"im serious yn. if you dont start reading in the next 10 seconds im going to—"
"no, no thats okay—i-im reading"
for whoever wrote me this, i am so sorry.
you cleared you throat in preparation for the humiliation you were about to face, curses be upon you miss peterson.
"hi, i think your really cute, we should go out sometime together, from..."
your heart stopped.
oh no this cant be right
"thats it."
"thats it?" the teacher probed, slowly making her way towards you.
"that it. i-it just says from your secret admirer after that nothing else".
your math teacher narrowed her eyes, looking closely at your expression—she didn't buy it.
dont breakeyecontactdont break eye contactdont breakeyecontactdontbreakeyecontactdontbreakeyecontact—
"really..."
"really!" you broke eye contact.
she pointed her nose upwards, probably as high as possible and began walking towards your desk.
"alright then i wanna see it, i need to have it confiscated"
"what?!, why?" oops you said that kinda loud. the class whom had previously lost interest when you finished reading turned back towards you and miss peterson now intrigued.
"well why not?! it was a distraction in class and now it needs to be taken away to make sure it wont be a distraction again...!"
but that doesn't make sense, if you care so much about us passing notes you should take our notebooks not the gosh dang note !
"but that doesn't make sense—" but you didn't get a chance to finish as the teacher viciously snatched the paper from you and spun around back towards her desk.
you sat down and burried your hands in your face, you couldn't watch this.
"oh this looks fun...says it's from barou shouei, not what i was expecting...not what i was expecting at all..."
fucking kill yourself, PLEASE
the class, which had previously been dormant erupted in a series of raging giggles and screams—shocked at the reveal of who the note was from.
a soccer player.
it was no secret in BLLK High that nobody—under any circumstance—was to mess with a soccer player. they had a bit of a reputation going on. even the nice ones.
" 'cuse me?" a commanding and masculine voice emerged from your left side and you turned as quickly as possible to the over 6 foot ( 182 cm ) tall man trying to explain yourself.
fuck, one day you were seriously gonna kill your math teacher.
"no, no no i promise it's not like that—i seriously don't know who made this i promise it wasn't from me and i know it wasn't from you—"
"you're yn ?" he cut you off smoothly, leaning back in his seat ever so slightly.
"huh?"
his knees were facing yours now. "you're yn right? been wondering who that was for the longest, guess i know now, cool."
"huh?"
okay now you were confused—about multiple things actually. #1, barou shouei, the man you'd been sitting next to for almost a full year now had yet to learn your name untill just now which is—gosh, just outrageous even for a soccer player
and #2 he wasn't toltally angry and going to kill you like everyone said he would have, should you make a fool of him?
no seriously someone explain what was happening.
you didnt get a chance to ponder on your thoughts much longer however, the bell rang loudly in your ear and soon everyone including yourself was making way for the door out the classroom.
what the fuck just happened, what the actual fuck just happened.
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"heyy ! yn over here !" you didnt realize it but you apparently had auto-piloted your way all the way through lunch and was now being called over by people you've never talked to a day in your life—and you knew exactly what it would be about.
could this get any worse
you were about to find out. "yes...?" you asked, tray still in hand while you stood awakwardly by the trash can near the lunch table who called you over.
"soo—wait first sit down, we're friends we're friends, sit down first" one of the girls said, patting a seat next to herself eagerly.
you looked at the eyes on you and quickly made a decision to move.
there definitely here to ask me about him. it can't be that bad right? i think her name is ashley? i don't know maybe this'll be fun, maybe they'll be nice.
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"so have you guys had sex?"
"what?! no—"
"have you guys even ever kissed yet?"
"no—"
"we used to talk you know", this one was from ashley, a pretty blonde haired girl who's blue eyes sparkled like marbles.
"really?"
she was attractive that for sure but and you could definitely see why some people would wanna date her but barou? not so much.
"really"
like in what world would some super macho super mysterious soccer guy get the hots for some popular pretty blonde girl? not to mention an obnoxious pretty blonde girl.
gosh i sound like a pick me right now, who knows maybe they really did talk
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"didn't even know her name" barou said, cracking his neck from side to side.
"seriously man?" asked isagi, popping a fry in his mouth.
"dead serious"
this was the soccer table, a table where only the best of best players would sit for lunch, not that it was official or anything—but new students were warned not to go near The Table anyway.
"so you did ask yn to prom?"
"no bachira, i didn't ask her how many times to i have to say that, i barely know her anyways"
"untill today" kunigami confirmed.
"until today" barou repeated.
"would you though?" chigiri asked, he glanced over at your table—you were pretty that much was obvious but it was barou we're talking about, who knows what he thought of you.
"nah, couldn't."
"why not? shes not ugly" nagi questioned albeit a bit insensitively.
"shes not but..." he trailed off, stringing his eyes from nagi to you, she looks kinda...
"but what"
"i don't want her thinking we're dating after prom or somethin', gotta focus on the game."
"what if i did then, think she'd say yes?" it was reo speaking now who was now also looking at your table.
"nah, your uncanny resemblance to a donkey might turn her off"
The Table laughed as reo scowled at the other players, he didnt find it very funny.
"shut the fuck up shouei, i didn't hear her accepting your undying love now did i?"
"thats because i never really asked her dipshit"
"your point! still better than knowing your rejected as a default"
"is it though?" barou was almost smiling at the purple headed boy.
"oh really? watch me"
the table made boyish "ooo"-ing sounds and reo stood up confidently.
shouts erupted from the table, causing the whole cafeteria to turn towards the players, they payed them no mind however, only staring intently at where reo was walking.
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"look, look, look! one if them is coming over here right now!"
"really?!"
you whipped your head around towards where the whole cafeteria's attention had been directed.
nononon, this cannot be happening. you seriously did not need another soccer players thinking you were some freak weirdo because someone else wanted to be messy!
"thats reo, he's super fucking rich, i heard he has a whole two backyards !"
"and an a theater room!"
great, and it was a rich snob kid too.
"does yn sit here?"
your table said nothing, even the loud ashley kept quiet while he was talking. everyones heads turned to you, waiting expectantly for you to say something.
"yeah thats me..." you said meekley.
reo smiled and curled his finger towards himself a few times, asking you to come to him.
this is so awakward
you stood up silently and walked over to where reo was. he didn't stop directing him towards you until you were standing right up against him, close enough to where he could grab your jaw and yank your ear towards his mouth.
"you're hot, go out with me"
your eyes bludged, and your heart accelerated way more than it should have. that was NOT what you were expecting.
reo let go of your face, his hands were in his pockets as he waited for your answer, he looked confident tou would say yes. and most people would, but this was a soccer player we were talking about—and this one specifically was known for being super rich, super smart and a super hoe. three things you couldn't be bothered to even try giving a chance with.
you glanced behind him trying to peer at the damage that had been done.
holy shit the whole fuking cafeteria is looking
"so?"
you were snapped back into reality as reo looked at you, still waiting for an answer. it was pretty obvious what you were going to say.
"no. im sorry but no, i hardly know you and you're really not my type, sorry."
your table made all types of noises as they watched the now humiliated boy bite a scowl and walk back too his table.
you quickly sat back down and watched as The Table made fun of reo's rejection. all the players were laughing but you were only looking at one.
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"said i wasn't her type". The Table erupted in laughter, all the players except reo cackling like animals.
"fucking told you so, at least get to know the girl before you start trying to hit on her" isagi joked, slapping reo on the back repeatedly.
"no for real, dont know what made you think she would fall for you in a day, not all girls are so easy you know" kunigami shook his head.
"what did you say too her anyways?" nagi asked now curious as to what got him such a harsh rejection anyways.
"didn't say nothing, js asked her if she wanted to go out, said no, that's it." reo reiterated bitterly.
"knowing him it was probably something like 'youre hot, lets go out'" barou said offhandedly, distracted by the feeling of eyes on him.
"you could hear?" reo asked, now confused.
The Table went silent for a moment and isagi burst out laughing when he realized what reo had just said.
"so you did really say that?!"
the emmbarassment for reo only cotinued further but barou wasn't paying attention to that. the eyes from before were still on him.
it was you.
cute...
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BAROU isnt really much of a romantic either, he hasn't got the headspace for it like he does for soccer, so of course—he's not seeking the love. the love is seeking him.
1 week later
you sat quietly in the school library studying like a madman for finals, it was just near the end of the school year and you were determined to get good marks on all of the subjects.
the library was the most perfect and quiet place to relax and work at the same time—without any distractions or problems to bother you from your job.
"excuse me?"
you glanced up to where the voice was coming from and your heart felt like it was going to explode.
it was none other than barou shouei in the flesh.
a whole week, a whole week you had managed to somewhat avoid his presence and pretty much ignore him during math ( your teacher denied you request to switch spots ) it was going fine untill—well, now.
"can i borrow your computer charger? mine just died and a left mine at home"
that was it?
you didn't really know what to expect from the man though. he was known to be pretty brutal on tbe field maybe you were assuming he'd be the same in real life.
although i guess i shouldn't think that considering how chill he was over the fake confession and all of that...
"oh yeah sure, I uh can let your borrow it no problem"
"thanks"
barou took your charger without another word and walked back over too his seat.
the racing in your heart was begining to subside, that wasn't so bad...
you shifted to get comfortable in your seat and began studying once again, right now where was i...
"excuse me?"
and just as you were getting comfortable. barou shoei again.
"yes?"
"sorry im back so soon but, could i sit here for a little bit. the outlet by my table isnt working for some reason" he said it in a polite tone but seemed eager for an answer, he was probably in a rush to get as much study time in before practice like most athletes were.
he really isnt as scary as i thought he'd be...
"yeah of course that's fine, it's better this way anyway, wont forget you had it in the first place ya know" you smiled moving your belongings over to make room for his.
"thanks"
barou set his things down and soon enough a static silence ensued over the both of you, not that you minded though. you still needed to get work done and it was better he wasn't attempting to make conversation with you. it is a bit awkward though...
"you color coded your pens"
the voice that emmited from the other side of the table almost made you forget who was there.
"i did, why?"
"nice, i did too"
barou didnt wait for an answer, but instead pulled out a all black pencil pouch to reveal all seven colors of the rainbow line up in order.
jeez, i just think it looks cool, his has all the pen hooks facing up too, ocd much?
that wasn't the main point though, what was more important was his sticker—on thst rested sturdy on his bag. "you watch graves anatomy too?"
he looked surprised when you mentioned the show, and nodded his head appropriately. "yeah, and im all caught up too, all 22 seasons and counting."
"holy hell, im only on season 12 how to even time for that—aren't you always having games and stuff, scince your on varsity and all..."
barou quirked an eyebrow, "mm you know your stuff—i make it work"
now it was your turn to make a face "you make it work...really, its that easy?"
no. the absurbant amount of school work i have is fucking killing me right now plus i've got sisters too take care of so no, it's definitely not easy
thats not what he said though.
"yup, real easy." he nodded his head and although you didn't buy it, it was hardly your place to nag. he didn't seem like someone you should nag.
"uh huh.." you shook your head up and down slow and repeatedly, "for sure, for sure"
"what you don't believe me?" barou moved his chair closer to yours, so close in fact you think your knees were touching, his arms bulged as he rested his hands on his head ; it was hot nice seeing him in a position that wasn't so straight .
"no i do, you seem really responsible im sure you're great at 'making it work' " you put a thumbs up.
gosh, could you be anymore awakward...
"oh im responsible ? you would know that im responsible?" barou questioned, leaning even closer on his arms towards you.
is he...flirting with me?
you laughed and covered your mouth with your hand leaning slightly away as he got closer.
"i mean yeah" you paused to swipe away the nonexistent dust from your eyes, you just couldn't hold the eye contact.
come on, dont get shy now yn.
"people talk, i guess."
"do they?"
"they do" you nodded your head firmly up and down, since it was the only thing you were sure you could do at the moment.
"mh"
mmh?!? the fuck does that mean ??
"so yn i wanna ask you a question" barou leaned back as he said this, finally returning to his normal position.
holy shit my heart was beating so fast, somebody get me on a stretcher and to the hospital NEOW, i am about to blow!
"yeah?"
barou stayed silent for a few moments, thinking deeply about what he was going to say.
"hypothetically..." he paused, staring directly at you.
"hypothetically..." you confirmed.
"hypothetically if someone, other than reo from the soccer team—just as an example lets say...yoichi ! remember hypothetically speaking—asked you out on a date what would your answer be?"
huh?
"what kind of question is that?"
"a hypothetical one" he said matter of factly.
"a hypothetical one, right, well if—hypothetically of course—i was asked out by isagi, om a date that is...i don't know...yeah? I guess i'd day yes?"
"really, you would?" he looked surprised and you suddenly felt alarmed, was that a bad thing or something??
"yeah? i mean no, not really—maybe not if he asked the way your friend did..."
"mhm"
??? again, what does that mean?
A moment of silence passed between the two of you and you tried and failed at going back to the work you were supposed to be doing in the first place.
"what about chigiri?" he said suddenly.
"chigiri? what do you me—"
"chigiri. pretty, has red hair, plays on varsity and is super fast? chigiri. would you say yes too him?"
"i mean, maybe, yeah he's definitely not ugly and i guess if i knew him well enough I would probably say yes—why are you asking me this?"
barou said nothing and suddenly, the strangest thing began to happen—he looked at you smiling—a large, uncanny smile resembling a creepypasta monster formed from on his face, your heart began to beat but for the wrong reasons.
"wake up yn" it was definitely barou's voice but it sounded far.
"huh?" you couldn't move, and you now realize you probably couldn't move for a while.
what...is happening...
"wake. up."
your head shot up from your arms, ans you looked around disorientedly.
oh...
up untill about the last 30 seconds you were a bit disappointed it had to end. your dream that is.
"yn", a voice—much deeper than you recall im your fantasies spoke out to you as you felt a tap on your shoulder.
it was barou. the real barou.
"i baroued your charged?" he said holding it out towards you. (an's. IM HALARIOUS LAMOSJKWIS)
"oh. right sorry, thanks." you took the cord from him. but he didn't leave, still looming over you in his tall stature he spoke again.
"uh, you got a little.." he pointed to the corner of his lip, scratching at it in expectation for you to do the same.
you did, softly at first, not really sure what is it he was implying but quickly realized what he meant after you felt a crusty dry substance still left from your unconscious.
oh..
oh !
"ive got drool on my face haven't i" he nodded his head, and you swore you saw grin appear on his face—a real one but he turned and walked away before you could make confirm.
"thanks for the charger yn, see ya later"
his back was facing you now, slowly getting smaller and smaller at he walked away from you.
seriously ! could i be anyless embarrassing for even a second!
im afraid not yn.
because according to barou, he thinks your little moments of embarrassment and humiliation were pretty damn cute.
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BAROU is never scared. he hardly ever get worried, he's king and one of the best players in his school, he's top of his class always and struggles—never. so why? why was it now, over some so trivial that he was all thoes things he never gets all at once?
1 week later, in the classroom.
barou felt weird.
the truth is, he didnt need a partner for the social studies project. his teacher was allowing groups of two or singles all the same. his reasoning behind why he wanted a partner is what was scaring him.
after almost an entire year, barou realized that you not only were in his math class, but his social studies as well. and his history, and biology—even his orchestra ( he plays cello in case you were wondering ).
he realized that you were everywhere.
barou, for the first time was recognizing someome else, not on the team, not an adult, but a girl, he was acknowledging a girl, as more than nothing.
it was weird.
"yn."
you peered up at him, wide-eyed and adorable. "work with me on the project"
your eyes, (e/c) and beautiful, got impossibly larger.
"yeah—uh—sure we can"
he gave a thumbs up, and went back to his seat.
what am i doing?
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"i dont know, maybe we can exchange numbers instead?"
"yeah thats better, since im hardly on social media anyways"
even though you've got so many followers..
"alright cool"
you and barou were in the library, again. instead of dreaming about his muscles however, you were watching them in real time move for your phone and yours the same.
there wasnt mych said after that, only short words to communicate what part of the project you both were supposed to work on, untill...
"yn?"
"yes" and once again, you were looking at him, wife eyed and adorable.
"i've got a question to ask you"
no way, did i fall asleep again?
you sucked in a breath, and pinched your cheeks, not paying any attention to the words that might come out of his mouth.
"ow!" nope, you were definitely awake.
barou raised an eyebrow and couldn't hold himself in. he burst out laughing and you we're glad the library waw empty, because in all his seriousness—barou's laugh was loud. like the sort of thing you'd been holding in for a while.
"what yn, afraid you're gonna fall asleep again?"
your cheeks heated up an intense amount.
"no..."
"you're funny you know, really funny"
"huh?!" you squeaked, shifting all over in your chair. "what does that mean"
barou leaned in close to your face, so close that your noses were touching.
"it means..." he tilted hid head sidewards, waiting for your permission.
"i think you're the stupidest most adorable person to exist..." you didn't move away.
and like a shock, barous lips were on yours so softly it made it feel very much like a dream, but it wasn't.
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an's. i know this is not himmm, he wouldn't even look at you after a supposed fake letter i knooow, i couldn't think of a better way to force it ( i was lazy ) and he's cute let me live.
an's. i rushed the end i knoww, leave me alone. i like writing for personal enjoyment shhhhhh.
42 notes · View notes
toulousewayne · 2 days
Text
Wake Up : A Bat Family One-Shot
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———
Beep….Beep….Beep.
That’s the only sound in the room. That and the sounds of the tubes contracting. The room is full of your brothers and father. Alfred had stepped out to speak with the doctors.
Bruce sat in a chair to your right with Damian on the opposite side of your hospital bed. Tim sat like a cat perched in the window seal. Gotham City in her rainy and gloomy glory was just beyond the glass. Though it seem a lot more dim then normal. Jason had snapped and left an hour ago. Dick was in the corner pf the dim room not meeting anyone’s gaze.
“I’m sorry.” Bruce managed to choke the words out. They were the first words he said to you since you fight hours ago.
You were Bruce’s Daughter, and you too didn’t always see eye to eye. But he loved you in his own way only Bruce could understand. He gently pushed a stray piece of hair away from your face.
Beep…Beep…Beep.
That was the only reply he gotten. He replayed early tonight over and over like it had his parents deaths for many years.
——
“Are you fucking serious!” You hissed at him. You glared daggers at your father.
“Y/n”
“No, you told me the reason you and canceled on me was because of some life saving event,” That was true, Bruce had canceled on her for the millionth time this week alone.
“I didn’t lie to you,” he spoke monotonously. “Clark asked me to accompany Jon and Damian on a mission.” He took a sip from his wine.
“Oh, I forgot your Boy’s clubhouse.” She spat.
—-
Bruce gently brushed your black and red knuckles. He let out a deep wounded sigh. Dick glanced over and narrowed his gaze. “This is all your fault.”
Bruce didn’t meet his gaze. “I didn’t make time for her I know that, I don’t your in put here Dick.” He said his name so cold it was almost as if that was he was calling him rather than calling his name.
Tim scoffed,”You both are to blame.” Dick shot his gaze to the college student nearly giving himself second degree whiplash.
“And what do you mean by that,Timmy?” The older man gaze never leaving the younger one.
“We all know Bruce blows everyone off unless it’s about the mission. You just do it because you don’t care about anyone but your Team or your girlfriend.”
Dick stares down at his brother and crosses the room some he’s with earshot of him.
“Tim that’s bullshit and you know it,” he tries to keep his anger in but it’s simmering and he could pop at any giving moment, “I do my best to be there,and yes I can be everywhere at once but I do try. At least I try to be.”
The room felt silent again with everyone’s on the comatose girl. The fight between them feeling as though it dismissed itself within seconds. Dick shoves his hands in his pockets and turns on his heels.
“I’m gonna go to the cafeteria, I’ll be back.” No one stops him. The door shuts softly and the only sound is the machines and the rain on the window.
A knock on the door brings everyone back to earth. It’s Alfred. “The Commissioner is here, he needs a moment with you Master Bruce.”
Bruce excuses himself and leaves the room.
——
Jason takes a long puff and the smokes leaves his lips. He looks toward the city through a rainy night. The red light the hospital cases a highlight on his face.
He blew up on Bruce twice tonight, not that he didn’t feel that it wasn’t necessary he did. But it didn’t change the pit in his stomach, nor the smells of gasoline, burning rubber, and metal.
He remembers everything.
——
“You avoiding me too?” He turns to the doorway of the library. You walk into the light of the fireplace.
“No but I don’t have any interest in spending the night in my old room.” He fired back turning the page of his book and placing a bookmark in it before standing up.
She shakes her head at her big brother. “Forgot, if I’m not apart of the missions you guys forget about us on the surface.”
He clicks his tongue and huffs,”Not like that.”
She shakes her head and grabes his plate and mug. “Sure it’s not, we used to hang out but now that I do go out anymore it’s like I’m a ghost to him. You too.”
Jason doesn’t meet her gaze right away. “I’m not talking to Daddy Bats right now. I only came because Golden Boy wouldn’t stop blowing up my phone. I just got back from Columbia this afternoon. I’m just tired is all. I’m free in a day or two.” He rubbed his face and turned back to her.
“Forget it Jason, rain check.” She mumbled and walked out the room.
——
Jason puts out the smoke and stomps on it before pushing his shoulders away from the hospital and heads back inside.
——-
Dick sat at table in the corner in the cafeteria. He took a sip of his coffee which tasted like old dirt water. Then again it was 1 am.
He throws his head back rubbing his temples trying to massage away his stress to no avail.
He gets to his feet and leaves and heads down the hallway. The rush of the hospital in full swing. Doctors getting paged, the sounds of nurses making rounds, phone lines ringing,etc.
He took a sit in the main lobby. He closed his eyes for a moment thinking about the last time he spoke to his sister. It was growing on three weeks.
——
“So??”
Dick woke up from dosing off. He rubbed his eyes and sighed.”Sorry it’s been a long 24 hours.” He sighed and scratched Haley’s head.
“I can tell, you’re not sounding like yourself.” He picked up the phone and walked into the kitchen opening the fridge. It’s only contents being a Chinese takeout container, a pizza box that he got earlier, two cans of diet soda, half a case of beer and three water bottles.
He takes a water and downs it. “Tell me about it and with this mission around the corner I need to get some rest but I doubt it.”
“What mission?”
Dick stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t told anyone but Barbara and Bruce that he was leaving for San Francisco in the morning to meet with the Titans.
“I heading back to the Titans, we have to head to investigate a lead.” He almost whispered the last part.
The line was silent for a moment. “And how long will you be gone Dick?” He couldn’t make out her tone but he could tell she wanted a different answer that what he was going to tell her.
“A month maybe less maybe more I don’t know until I get back.”
“So you’re not coming to graduation then.” She said a little more with intensity.
He sighs,”Look I’m sorry I know I haven’t been around—
“That’s an understatement.” She cuts him off.
He rubs his face,”I’m come to the next event I promise.”
She scoffed,”And what’s that Dickie Bird? You missed Ballet recitals, High School graduation and now college. You missed everything? You and Bruce are not that far apart.”
“That’s not fair, it’s important what I’m doing.”
“You don’t miss Damian art exhibition? It’s or Donna’s new studio opening. You were there for Bruce for a charity dinner two months ago yet you couldn’t bother to call me or even come ten feet to me at the same dinner to tell me you weren’t even staying till the next morning to go out like you had planned for months! You don’t miss anything for anyone else because they’ll be disappointed,but it’s fine to flake on your sister and I’m so supposed to be okay with that!”
“I’m so sorry it’s really not like that, look I’ll make it up—“
“Don’t bother Grayson, for once in all these years I thought for once you were gonna show up for me. I was wrong.” He could hear the hurt in her voice. Before he could say anything else she hung up.
That was Three Weeks ago and they hadn’t spoken.
——-
Tim hadn’t moved from his spot in the window. He turned back towards the room. Damian was sleep in his chair. He turned his attention to his older sister.
He thinks about the last few hours tonight. How things got so ugly so fast.
“Y/n, you’re being ridiculous. It’s a mission in East Asia not strike.” Bruce replied.
She glared at her father. The room was silent. “Do you take me for one of blind followers.”
“Excuse me?”
She leaned down so she was eye level. “I’m not one of your soldiers, and that’s part of the problem isn’t it Father?”
He returns her gaze. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, I may not always be there for you but I’m trying.”
She laughes at him, “When was the last time you were there for me that wasn’t lurking in the shadows, or stopping one of the criminals you created from nearly killing me and thousands of other people.” He gaze never leaving her and his jaw when slack too.
“You sit there and smile for the news and the rest of the world like we’re one Big Happy Family but we have never been.”
Tim pushes his food with his fork. And sighs. She turns to him, “Anything you want to say Tim, we may as well get everything off our chest.”
He huffs,”No but this isn’t going to change anything. “
She grins,”I agree with Tim.” Jason and Dick stare a look and Damian as long stopped eating and is watching the spectacle.
“You do?” Bruce raises a brow at her. She nods again. “Tim’s right, you’re never going to change until you take your last dying breath. Because God Forbid your kids dying own your watch doesn’t register to you that you need to be present more.”
The air in the room was still.
Bruce doesn’t look at her. Jason doesn’t look away but his plate. Damian squirms in his seat and Dick clears his throat.
“I tried to be there.” Bruce finally speaks.
“But you weren’t, and no one is blaming you for that.” Alfred cuts in hopefully to stop the mess from going any farther.
She huffs,”No but I least that would change your perspective of only throwing yourself into harms way every damn night. All of you, it’s like you all don’t even stop to think about yourselves.”
“Sister we are all trained, even yourself.”
“That’s not the point. I’m not saying you’re not capable,” she tone softens,” I’m saying that most of the time you remember that and that’s all that matters. You don’t think what happens if you miss step, you underestimate the villains next move, or what the consequences are for you charging into a mission without a second thought.”
Bruce leans forward,”I know what the stakes are. You don’t think I don’t know what happens if I don’t stop and think about that. You don’t know anything about what I do at night, the were a child and didn’t want this life for yourself.” He stood up and looked at her in the eyes.
“I never wanted you to be apart of that life, I know you couldn’t handle it.”
The boys turn to look at their sister and Bruce.
“So you thought that little of me?” Tears formed in her eyes but anger was the clearest emotion across her face.
“I thought you didn’t need to do what we do, you’re better at what you do now.” Though Bruce thought he was being sincere his tone was more condescending and cold.
“Bruce!” Dick shouts.
“Screw you, you just wanted be to be apart of your image.”
It dawned on him how he hadn’t been able to properly communicate to her.
“Y/n that—
She took off from the table, she grabbed her purse and keys.
“Don’t worry Father, I wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation.” She slammed the door and charged to her car. Not once slowing down even with Tim calling her phone multiple times and Damian yelling from the doorway.
She sped off through the gates and onto the road.
——
Y/n takes a sharp turn onto the main road and wipes her face with her sleeve. She sob to herself feeling so many things at once.
The sky opened and rain harmed down onto the road. “Great.” She turned on her wipers and lights and continued driving back towards the city to go to her apartment.
She ignored her phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing from calls from her brothers.
She felt like not just Bruce but they also thought so little of her. Maybe that’s why they didn’t want to spend time with her.
She graduated from Gotham University last night with a Bachelor Degree and yet it felt like she was alone. Alfred and the girls came. Bruce had missed the entire ceremony along with Damian. Tim was just landing from attending a business meeting in New York,Jason and Dick already had prior encounters.
She felt like she didn’t really feel like she belong with them. She snapped out of her daze and grabbed her phone inside of purse. She answered.
“Tim please you guys have got to stop—
A loud hoar range out and within seconds she looked to see a large truck. She attempted to move out of his way but it all happened to fast. She took a sharp right turn but the truck smashed head on the passenger side door causing everything to feel like a free fall. Her phone, contents of her purse falling all around her. She herself was jerked all over.
The car was immediately crushed by impacted and began to roll and tumble down the hill until it crashed into several trees.
Tim heard the crash and ran downstairs to where is his brother and Father were sitting in the study. By the tears on his face Bruce stood up and was in front of him.
“What’s wrong?”
“She was hit…the truck…I-i can’t hear her.”
—-
Bruce was racing down the road. Tim was still on the phone but all he could hear was beeping from the car and something tapping.
He stopped with red and blue light came into his view.
The two got out the car but two officers tried to block their paths.
“That’s my daughter let me through.” He order but the officers tried to keep him through but he managed to push the two men and run towards the site. Detective Montoya was at the scene.
“Please, how is she?” Bruce asked. Her expression was anything but hopeful.
“I don’t know Mr. Wayne I just got here, the Fire Department got her first and are working to get her free. As if on time two paramedics rushed down the side with an Orange board with straps. Moments later the returned with three firefighters carrying Y/n. Cuts, bruised and marks littered her body. Her eyes were black and blue and a tube was down her throat with a brack around her neck.
“Is she gonna be okay?” Bruce asked uneasily.
“We’re taking her to Gotham General, she stable but we have to go.” The younger paramedic told him. He turned to Tim who hopped in the ambulance with his sister and Bruce backed away slowly as the ambulance rushed down the street with sirens and light flashing.
He made it inside his car followed them.
—-
The first few hours were a blurry, she was rushed into surgery. Tim sat in the emergency room waiting area until Alfred arrived with the rest of the boys and they were taken upstairs to her room where Bruce was already waiting.
45 minutes later a nurse came in to tell them she was out of surgery. Shortly, afterwards the surgery told them the damages she suffered and she would be in a medical coma for a few days to help with the pain and swelling
And that brings us to the present.
Bruce re-entered the room and took his seat back.
“She’s gonna be okay,right B?”
He nodded. “We hope so. She’s a fighter like us.” He took her cold hand and offered a gentle squeeze. Dick,Jason and Alfred returned as well.
Alfred placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder,”She is, and now we have to wait for her to fight her way back to us.”
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prince-liest · 2 days
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Thank you for answering my ask and sorry for sending you a new one so quickly, but I just have a lot of Thoughts(tm) about this au!!!
So I keep going back to reread the first chapter, both in its entirety and just specific bits that I like, and I keep noticing how.... polite? Alastor is being? And it's just totally throwing me off lol.
Like, I actually read the snippet you posted of Vox offering Alastor's new shoes before I realized/read the first chapter, and thought it was a little odd how nice Alastor was being, as at that point I thought it was a snippet of a new 666 chapter.
But Alastor being polite in this universe totally makes sense!! He's just been beat up in an alley way, watched two guys get killed in front of him, was (kidnapped) taken to his "savior's" room, and hypnotized by said savior.
Of COURSE he's going to be polite to Vox!! Vox can electrocute and hypnotize people!! Alastor isn't an idoit, he knows he's in hell with a very dangerous person. That he's in a room with someone with someone more powerful than he is, that if Vox did get annoyed or angry at him, and hurt him, Alastor doesn't have that great of odds fighting back, and it's not like someone else is going to pop out and save him.
He's being careful.
But, he doesn't want to be taken advantage of. He knows that if acts like helpless prey, then he's going to be treated like it. So he has to establish that Vox sees him as an equal, or else he risks Vox hurting or hypnotizing him if Vox wanted to.
There's also another thing I noticed- Alastor's.... animalistic (if that is the right word) tendencies. Like, Alastor attacked both Vel and Vox, but didn't use the knife he was on either of them. I think this really interesting, as it would be smarter to use the knife (it's like Vox doesn't know he has it) but by using his teeth and his hands to hurt, it showcases Alastor's new animalistic tendencies. Though I don't know if this was On Purpose, or if it's just a theory lol.
Anyway, I just wanted a chance to talk more about this fic because im really, REALLY enjoying it, and I can't wait for me! (But I can! So don't feel the need to rush! You've already written so much! Take your time!)
One LAST ASK, I promise you (🤞 but probably not lol, sorry) so I'm pretty sure you hinting that Alastor killed someone and was burying their body before being killed himself (like in canon), but what caught my attention is that VOX doesn't seem to know this?? Like he doesn't know that Alastor has killed people?? Which makes sense, it's not common knowledge. But!! Vox has already established that he knows more about Alastor than the general public would, like he knows more about his relationship with his dad (maybe Vox hunted down Alastor's dad and forced him to spill info regarding Alastor, which is hilarious to think about lol). So I'm just SO EXCITED for when it's revealed that Alastor also killed people in life, and for Vox to no doubt get so hard he passes out lol. Also, this means that Vox doesn't know that Alastor is a cannibal, which is also really interesting! (Also, I'm not sure if you were hunting at Alastor's cannibalistic tendencies when he won't let go of Vel with his teeth, but it is a funny mental image to me of Alastor just, trying to eat Vel because a new part of himself is starving for flesh.)
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But I do fucking love it. Ehehehehe. These are the EXACT things that I was hoping the first chapter would get people thinking about. I just. GESTURES WILDLY. THERE'S SO MUCH, IN WHAT YOU SAID. SO MUCH. But I can't say shit about it one way or the other for fear of spoilers. Just know that I love you for this.
Actually the one thing I can confirm is that Vox indeed is not under any impression that Alastor is anything more than just, like, a really talented storyteller and true crime podcaster!
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good afternoon/evening/night, I don’t know when you will read this :) I would like to make a request from you, it’s a bit late topic, I agree. But could you write about how the antagonists of season 3 (Spec, Dorian, Sikorsky, Doyle and Yanagi) will react to the fact that a shy reader gave them a valentine and chocolate (made by the reader himself), and ran away very embarrassed? I would be very grateful if you write this. Best wishes to you ! :)
Of course I can! Once again, very sorry for how long it took me to get to these lmao, I can say that I'm officially off hiatus but progress will be slow until I catch up.
Doyle:
He's so confused. What on earth are you doing?? Why did you just shove this box of random shit and some flowers into his hands and then run off like he had the bubonic plague?? Why are you so red??? What on earth is going on?? More importantly, why the actual fuck did you say 'Kyaaa~!' as you were leaving?? Are you cringe? Does he need to worry about you being cringe?
Give him a second, the man is a bit stunted when it comes to being around normal people. Been in the assassin game too long. When he opens to box to see some chocolates and reads the note with the valentine, then he'll put two and two together. Eventually. He may or may not have to look it up first before he puts two and two together.
Expect a sudden appearance at your house. A creepy one. Bro rocks up outside your window in the middle of the night like "hey hi hello do you have feelings for me??" and once you confirm he's going to tease you about it to the point where it's almost him just straight up being mean, but it's all he knows how to do. You might cry though, just a warning.
After all that? He barely acknowledges that you confessed to him. You can bring it up, and he'll just shrug and give you a "Yeah? What about it?" because he read that being aloof and uninterested can actually make him seem a bit more interesting to you. You're going to have to be direct with him, because otherwise he just won't understand what you want.
Sikorsky:
Run away all you want, you literally will not be able to outrun him. His legs are long and he's got the endurance. The man is scary, and he will get you to look him dead in the eyes and tell him with your words, because shoving a box and some flowers into his hands and then running away is rude and childish, and you're both grown adults.
He doesn't need a second, he's not dumb, he's had people confess to him before. He's pretty and he knows it, which makes his ego about 10x worse. He knows the moment he gets handed the box of chocolates and the roses. As mentioned, he'll hunt you down and make you use your words.
"Go on, say that you love me, I wanna hear you say it!" He's so mean about it, but he knows when to stop pushing. As soon as you admit that you like him, he'll tease you a little, feed his own ego a bit, and then be perfectly happy to move on to whatever happens next.
Oh he'll bring it up just to fluster you. He's a bit sadistic, so that is... Well, fairly frequently. Eventually you'll stop being as flustered about it, but still, he'll find a way to turn your confession into something he can use to tease and poke fun. Eventually though, it becomes something he looks back on fondly, and is so, so happy that you both remember it so well.
Yanagi:
A valentine? How childish. He's a grown man, he doesn't need this! You can run away if you want, he won't chase you. He knows you'll be back, and when you do come back, he's going to make you say what you feel properly, because otherwise, he's not likely to give you the time of day. Shy or no, simply running away is shameful and cowardly in his eyes.
He knows, he grew up with that culture, there's no need to tell him, though he outright refuses to touch the chocolates until you've come to him properly and talked to him instead of just running away all flustered. You're going to lose points for that approach in his eyes.
His judgmental and stuck-up ass is constantly going to demean you for just running away from him. He faced down Yujiro Hanma of all people, and he didn't run away! You've got no excuse, because clearly he's not nearly that terrifying! (He is, the little freak)
After the initial shaming and subsequent "Now do it again, but properly!" then that's pretty much it. Something he'll try to push out of his mind, which is a small mercy on his end because otherwise the relationship simply wouldn't happen purely because of that.
Dorian:
Awe, well isn't that adorable! And you put so much effort into this too! So flustered you couldn't even look him in the eyes before you took off! But you're forgetting that he's incredibly fast, even in his advanced age, so he absolutely simply let you go. If he'd wanted to catch you, he would.
Oh he's aware of what this means! And he's not above returning the favor either! As long as you don't ask too many questions about where he gets your gifts from, it's smooth sailing! He'd appreciate it if you questioned him simply being in your home one night even less, especially with how happy you'd clearly be with him returning your feelings!
Oh he's going to savor those chocolates! You worked so hard on them, and he's always had a bit of a sweet-tooth! As for the flowers, he's going to dry and preserve them, maybe even have them turned into a fragrance that he can wear on date night.
After all that, you really expect to stay single? Oh no, he's putting a claim on that as soon as physically possible, he just needs to make sure that you won't questions the suspicious things that happen around him. Like, you know, your neighbors all of the sudden not looking you in the eyes, your boss giving you less of a hard time. It's just because you're so happy, and not because he threatened them, it's definitely because you're so radiant!
Spec:
He's highly amused and he's going to do nothing to hide that fact. You're trying to run away? Oh, honey, he's already outpaced you and is ready to snatch you up and drag you off to go eat the chocolates you worked so hard on!
He's aware and he thinks it's both the most adorable and hilarious thing in existence. Did you really think he'd just let you run off on him? Oh no, nono, you're gonna stay here and say that you love him to his face and not through some letter, though he's still going to keep it. If he ever goes back to jail, he's going to hang it on the wall or the ceiling near his bed so it can be the first thing he sees when he wakes up.
He's going to tease you about it until you're so red you envy a stop-sign. And then he'll tease you a bit more, just for good measure. It's really hard to tell if he's just teasing you or if he's being genuine though, since his sense of humor is so skewed.
After all that? He lives in your house. You confessed, you gave him food and flowers. He's like a fucked up stray cat that has taken the small display of kindness as an invitation to just live in your home for however long he pleases. You're going to have a really hard time getting rid of him.
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solomon-tozer · 1 year
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Okay so @ra-scheln is interested in the Crozer & Hickey thoughts living in my brain, so here they (or at least some of them) are! (Because holding up our faves and pointing out all the holes is fun and we should do it more >:D)
First thing's first: Crozier is NOT a people person. He wears his rank so awkwardly, he doesn't make an effort to be friendly or approachable, he sort of :[ faces at pretty much everyone, and just... reads people pretty damn badly. Most of the men I think just put up with this (to a point) because he's Captain, but Hickey... Hickey isn't like most of the men.
So the second point is: Hickey really is not a normal guy. He's wearing the guise of one. He's trying to blend in and just get by. But he is, well before the show begins, damaged in spectacular ways. He doesn't think the same as others. His way of processing things is on a different level. He's also constantly on alert, absorbing, analysing and enacting what he thinks will serve himself best.
So, throw the two of them together, and you get... a disaster.
Crozier barely knows Hickey exists. He's one of the crew. Maybe he'd noticed the Limerick detail and heard the accent, thought 'huh that's odd', and then just... gone about his day until they met in the Great Cabin. By that meeting, they've been stuck in for their first winter, Crozier is feeling shitter than ever, he's drinking more, Sir John has invaded his space, Crozier doesn't trust him or feel listened to/appreciated/valued, and then there's this... guy... in to fix the privvy and holding a dog shit in his hand. He's just some guy. A refreshing someone/no one to just vent to for a minute or two.
Only, that's not how it should work. Hickey doesn't know his place, because he doesn't understand the system he's inserted himself into, and Crozier doesn't really care in that moment or even think 'hey this isn't an appropriate way to talk to one of the ratings'. Crozier has no idea what that interaction is going to create. At all. Probably barely even noticed who he was talking to. He got to say his dramatic lines, be civil for a minute, and then that was that.
But to Hickey? Oh boy. Earlier, there had been the whole Irving discovering him and Gibson thing. And while Gibson was freaking out, Hickey was grinning and smoking, not actually afraid. See, he'd read Irving. Correctly. He's calm about this. He's in control. Nothing bad is going to happen.
He now goes on to read Crozier. Incorrectly. Maybe a little high on that close shave with Irving and his surety, Hickey's now in the Captain's cabin, and the Captian recognises him. Speaks to him. As an equal, no less. He sees something in him. He confides in Hickey. When Hickey works Crozier to extract details about the leads/chances of getting under way again, it's easy. Crozier doesn't notice (well, he doesn't care/doesn't think, just speaks, which he shouldn't have done).
The whole moment where Crozier offers Hickey a drink, and insists, then makes that toast... Nothing to Crozier, but everything to Hickey. He doesn't need to worry about Gibson, Irving, or anything else. The Captain has recognised him, and his potential. "To ourselves." A navy man would know that's a traditional toast for a Wednesday. Hickey thinks it's a serious, genuine toast to himself and the Captain. He carrys his memory of that Wednesday right until the very end.
Of course, Gibson starts tearing Hickey's idea apart, quite brutally. So in that break-up, Hickey loses both Gibson and what he thought he and Crozier were together (a set apart, a cut above the rest, exceptional, etc - only, I think Hickey sees people in positions of power as stepping stones for his own greatness, and those people will eventually be beneath him as he rises even higher and oooh he's so deliciously unhinged). Hickey's reaction is to take a shit on Gibson's bed, and then to go through Crozier's things like a paranoid lover, where he then finds a letter that confirms Crozier was going to abandon him/them. He later talks about it at the hanging, about how Crozier was leaving everyone behind, but at the time the sting of it was that he was going to be left behind. He meant nothing to Crozier after all.
But by this point, Crozier has invited him in. There's something between them. They know things about each other (in Hickey's mind). They're still equals. Crozier, on the other hand, probably goes right back to not even thinking about Hickey until Silna is kidnapped.
At that point, Crozier goes way, way overboard. He reacts viciously when Hickey steps out of line (a result of him not being a Navy man, but moreso I think from him thinking that he and Crozier are equals). Hickey thought he was acting sensibly, as he ought to, and in a way Crozier would be thankful for! But instead Hickey becomes the focal point for Crozier's anger and malice - Hickey is someone Crozier can kick, so to speak, and Hickey keeps giving him excuses by riling him up during that scene. Maybe there is a little something of 'I don't like this guy' in Crozier at that point, but I read it as mostly being 'here's a guy who has just pissed me off, and I am the one in power and I'm going to fucking show it'. Crozier is too self-absorbed to care about anyone else, or to realise that his actions are going to have serious consequences.
One of those consequences? I'd say Irving's murder.
Okay I am reaching a tiny bit here, as Irving's murder was opportunistic, and there's already the fact that Irving is responsible for Gibson breaking up with Hickey, but I feel that there is another layer to it. In justifying Hickey's punishment in front of the crew, 'dirtiness' is tacked on the end. And were the fuck did that come from?? It wasn't mentioned when the three men were questioned! In that moment, Hickey looks in dismay at Irving, thinking that Irving has said something to Crozier. Which he hasn't. The charge would have been for sodomy, or indecendy, or something along those lines. But Hickey misunderstands. The bitterness Hickey feels towards Irving deepens. The only logical (for Hickey) conclusion that can be drawn from the extra charge is that Irving is behind it.
From then on... Well. The bulk of the crew shift to Erebus. Anyone who took the time to notice Hickey's character might realise he gets lost in the crowd. He can't operate surrounded by normalcy, he struggles in the light, but when the crowd is thinned and gasping for breath in the face of adversity? Hickey thrives. And he's left/kept on Crozier's ship. Kept close. It's personal.
How much thought and attention does Crozier give Hickey? Probably not very much. His drinking gets worse, HIckey doesn't cause any further trouble, and then Crozier withdraws to go through potentially lethal detox. I doubt he thinks about very much except the pain and misery he's in. Everyone but Jopson and MacDonald are kept away. But Hickey is still on the same ship, no distracting crowd to smother his voice, he starts to rise, to feel the power he has over Irving, become a source of comfort for Manson, to gather information and draw together those who aren't content. And we're not even delving into Tuunbaq! Because that's also where Hickey is transferring his focus/power. Crozier was weak. Unworthy. But he has still wronged Hickey, and Hickey is going to get his revenge one way or another.
Quick detour here to say that Goodsir is the only person who comes close to noticing Hickey's nature, but he does nothing with that knowledge. He doesn't share his concern, perhaps assuming 'oh they all know what this guy is like' because Hickey's sweet-talking is so glaringly obvious to him. He's the only person we see who doesn't fall for it. (But then again, why bother anyone with something the caulker's mate says? He's just a lowly seaman.)
There does come a point where Crozier finally notices Hickey. When he's sober, they've abandoned the ships, and when he has to because the dance he's unknowlingly been engaged in is about to enter its final act. Hickey was just a convenient, nameless, faceless confidant/emotional punching bag, but now he's a very real, very conniving, and very clever threat. What in the hell is wrong with him?? Why is he so unhinged? Well, because Crozier helped to make him that way. Hickey was always going to do what he could to survive and get out of there, but with Crozier it became intensely personal. Hickey is, to a degree, a monster of Crozier's creation. Elevated and recognised then spurned and humiliated... That bit during the lashing where Hickey has that transcendent moment... Crozier created that. Long before, when he raised a glass and toasted the two of them, he tethered Hickey to him.
And, of course, Hickey has to sever that tie. He has to end it. To prove he's risen above, and has won. His victory is the final victory. Crozier was wrong to cast him aside (but Hickey is right to cast Crozier aside, because he's no longer worthy).
This post is, obviously, about Crozier and Hickey, but the moments in which Crozier thinks about Hickey actually are few and far between. When they occur, they're intense, yes, but so much of this is one-sided. Crozier has other concerns, after all, whether or not he deals with them well. Would Crozier paying more attention to Hickey help? Fuck no! Crozier is utterly unable to realise what's going on with Hickey and keep their interactions professional. And even if he could? Hickey isn't reading Captian/subordinate in their interactions. At best, Crozier could have packed Hickey off to Erebus where he might have been distracted and found it harder to turn the minds of other men. But Crozier didn't think to do that. Didn't realise that Hickey was obsessed with him, and the bond he became convinced that they shared. No one noticed, because Hickey is good at not being noticed, and also because there were so many other concerns weighing on everyone (including Crozier's health and method of captaining).
Even at the end, Hickey has that little speech with Crozier. He's showing off his power and position, while concluding this chapter of his life. Maybe part of him also wishes Crozier would praise him again, and recognise him, and express regret discarding Hickey. Hickey would still cast him aside, of course, but for a moment he could toy with offering forgiveness.
Crozier won't do any of those things, of course. He no more understand Hickey than he did months ago. He sees the actions, sees the unravelling of a man, but doesn't appreciate his own part in it. He has no idea how profoundly he's impacted Hickey's life (and thereby the lives of many of the other men).
Given the length of this, I'll wrap up my ramblings there, and remind anyone reading this that these genuinely are my rambling, and a meander through the meta that lives in my mind. I very much enjoy holding up my faves and pointing out all the broken bits, and it's so much fun exploring how these two interact and fuck each other up specifically. Take what you like and ignore what you don't!
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amaranthdahlia · 2 months
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god i will never stop fawning over how absolutely SPECTACULAR afo vs bakugou was. genuinely one of the best fights in the entire manga in terms of art, the themes, the pararells, the gayness, the fight itself, and just. everything about it makes me wanna scream into my pillow and chew on it
#MIND YOU this was the fight that made me interested in afos character#ugh like i shouldve known bakugou was gonna take on afo ... like i knew him and izuku were gonna take on shigafo#cus of the whole win to save save to win thing#and its perfect for shigafo cus yk!#but i didnt know tomura manage to break free out of afos grasp early on#(which srry tomura for not having faith lol)#but yeah pitting bakugou against the guy was fucking amazing#like theres so much layers to it#like first off making bakugou(and izuku) fulfill the save to win thing by rescuing all might from afo#like how all might did in the kamino arc with bkg but this time bkg didnt'end' all might he was the one who saved him#AND THE FACT THIS WAS FILMED TOO JUST LIKE BEFORE#BAKUGOU WOULD NOT BE KNOW AS THE ONE THAT ENDED ALL MIGHT BUT THE ONE THAT SAVED HIM#AND FUCKK bakugou and afo.......amazing foils seriously#boys with gifted powers but one grew up with almost nothing and the other grew up with love#they both turned out shitty but only one of them actually changed for the better#afo in a way is like bakugou past self. hes fighting on what he couldve been if he let his ego take hold on his mind#and no bakugou did not solely defeat afo himself . and god my boy is so grown he KNOWs if it werent for everyone elses effort#he wouldnt be able to take this bitch down#bakugou i love you so so much#you are such an excellent character fuckkkk#and afo...... well you see what happened to him. fitting end to someone who thought highly of himself#died in a pathetic subpar way. fighting an injured teenage boy lmao#OH AND SAID TEENAGE BOY THAT LOOKS LIKE HIS OLD NEMESIS LMFAOOOOOOOOOOO#ive said this before but bakugou is afos karmic incarnation#i CANNOTTTT wait for volume 40 to drop. possible dawn of quirks era content afo character page (please) and yoichi/kudou colored by hori?#bakugou katsuki#mha all for one#mha manga spoilers#OH AND bakugou telling afo to shut the fuck up!?!?!?!?!?!?!? AND PROCEEDS TO BEAT HIS ASS IN 3 DOUBLE SPREADS????? MY FUCKING GOAT.#dahlia.txt
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herrmit · 15 days
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not to start shit but. tell me you didn't understand princess jellyfish without telling me you didn't understand princess jellyfish
#idk idk something about the lines we draw to divide women being ultimately useless as they degrade both sides#something something bridging gaps between people with different interests#something something literal actual sisterhood and solidarity between women#i'm never one to defend tiktok i'm not even on there and it surprises me that princess jellyfish is being brought up#but like. what is this supposed to mean. to 'tiktokify' something#girlboss narrative what hello? what? you're throwing words at me and i don't know what they mean#but it's hilarious that this post comes off as something the sisterhood would have posted before all their character development#because this is a story about empowerment not through appearance- but that inner change is what beauty is made of#the development tsumiki and the other members of the sisterhood get is not that now they dress well#but that their often self-imposed isolation is not an antidote to os being ostracized in high school and having social anxiety#and that they've dehumanized other women in the process of defending themselves#and it's not that they have to change who they are of their interests but that they full accept themselves and can therefore#be comfort with who they are#and better navigate the world. and form friendships . and human connection and FUCK#like what are you talking about#sorry i know no one here follows me for princess jellyfish takes but that's what we're gonna get today#i think when you have a fandom / readership as small as pj (in the west at least) every bad take hits that much harder lmao#anyway. kuranosuke princess rights. we are all princesses. etc etc#princess jellyfish#kuragehime#screeds#screeds fR FR#txt#i didn't want to tag this person or show their name bc it ain't personal i just want to address takes like these .#“girl's girls are toxic” “not like other girls are toxic” what if we were all princesses idk. what if we loved each other
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fiendtheanonymous · 6 months
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It will never not disappoint me that the one PPG/RRB scene in "The City of Clipsville" isn't talked about as often as a fascinating piece of media satirizing early internet fandom much in the same vein of episodes like "The Itchy and Scratchy and Poochy Show" from season 8 of The Simpson. It's such a smart and funny critique of the shipping culture at the time (which was and still is mostly led by preteens and teens, in comparison to the adult audience of the Simpsons fandom at the time).
I don't know, I think both the animation community and fandom historians really overlook this as a fascinating piece of animation and early online fandom history, and it's always disappointed me. The City of Clipsville is going to be 20 this month, I think it's about time somebody really went in depth and dissected it for a wider audience.
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thinking about the time this young 19 y/o guy i used to work with was talking to me about a bunch of random stuff and I said something about how he shouldnt worry about something this girl said on a dating app because he was just overthinking it and snowballing over nothing.
He paused a minute and said, "I guess you probably have more experience with women than me, huh?" I thought a second, but it was true. I'm not some kind of relationship guru and I fuck up a lot, but I do know more about dating and maintaining a relationship than a 19 y/o wannabe bodybuilder that watches Andrew Tate and has terminal virgin energy.
I said "I guess so, yeah'" and he visibly deflated. Like it was such a blow to his ego. I think maybe he was tethering his sense of masculinity to some weird sexual marketplace virility bullshit and felt emasculated?
im like a weird limp-wristed lesbian with a flamerboy 2003 fashion designer voice. I wear mens and womens clothes as I feel and often just have frizzy hair idgaf about because i'm not a public-facing employee most of the time anyways. if you spend more than a few hours around me it's probably pretty easy to see im a tranny no matter how hard i deny it and im honestly just kinda goofy and do silly shit for my own amusement. normies seem to like me alright and say im fun to be around but also think im a weirdo and I guess that's okay because I have some friends and a wife and I don't need external validation like that (or at least not desperately lmao).
but he seemed genuinely hurt and threatened by the possibility that I've been more successful with women than him and that just feels so weird to me. like why do you feel bad? It's not a competition and even if it was the women you like wouldnt like me and the women that like me wouldnt like you? Maybe stop talking about right wing bodybuilders and acting macho at work because those girls you like think you're an annoying closet case?
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