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yandere-wishes · 4 years

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Yandere Charcter Encyclopedia

A list of some requested charcters and the types of yandere’s they would be. I might open requests for a part two later idk yet.

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Twisted Wonderland

Vil Schoenheit is controlling and possessive.

You need to be the BEST!

It's more so this lovesick notion that Vil seems to be "in love with" rather than you as a person. No one knows exactly why Vil chose you as his dearly significant other and Vil has never given any inkling as to why he favors you above everybody else. It's a paradox, an unsolvable mystery. But the truth is Vil fell in love with you, not for your looks, nor your personality, heck you didn't even really do some outstanding gesture that pulled at his heartstrings, no, instead you did nothing. Confusing, I know but let me explain, you were a nobody. No breathtaking looks, no fantastic personality, no influential family. There was NOTHING special about you! This means you had the potential to be something special, something extraordinary and the only person in the universe who could raise you to such levels was nonother than the head of Pomfiore, Vil Schoenheit!

Every day he spends hours making sure you look perfect, a face painted in just the right ways to make others believe you had the features of an angel sent from above. Posture so straight, shoulders pulled back to make others think you were the long lost heiress to some fallen family. Never once did you speak out of place or with a tone harboring too many emotions, every word that left your mouth was so well thought out and prepared that others could only suspect you were some sort of genius.

You were nothing, that's what made Vil notice you in the first place, that's what made him mold you into the perfect someone. Whatever you are now is only thanks to your darling, caring lover...never forget that.

Rook Hunt is delusional.

Rook's brain is an incredibly messed up place and it only gets worst the longer he's around you. You are a little rabbit, nimble and sweet and he is the hunter that wants to stick a bow right through your beating heart, a lovely pair you two make, wouldn't you agree? But the more he stalks you, following you around like a second shadow. The more he realizes that he doesn't want you simply for the thrill of a small chase...oh no, he wants to keep you. Put you in a golden cage and throw away the key. You're not some rare catch like le roi des lions or a breathtaking sight like le roi des poisons. No instead you're simple, you aren't a game of nither wit nor strength, you are simply a game of love. Because you love him already don't you? You know he's been following you and doesn't do anything about it because you want him to catch you, right? You want the greatest hunter to hit you with his cupid's arrow so you can fall into his awaiting arms, right where you belong!

Azul is manipulative (were you guys seriously expecting something else?)

Azul is all calculations and deals, all wit and talk. He's got guts to go up against just about anyone he meets and he’s smart enough to turn them into a fish out of water. So maybe it was his confidence that let’s you slip away with lax deals, bending the rules for a helpless little angelfish such as yourself. He doesn't notice that he has feelings for you, not until you stroll into the VIP room of the Mostro Lounge looking for your "dearest friend Azul", all to simply ask him for a contract to make the lousy excuse of an Ignyhide dorm leader fall in love with you. It's then and there that Azul decides it's time to toughen up the rules, tighten the noose around your pretty little neck. You don't even notice until you're rejected by Idia and some strang red string is dragging you into Azul's waiting embrace.

Kalim is delusional and obsessive.

To Kalim, this is just another heart-filled game. You belong to him and he belongs to you, it's simple! The two of you are so in love...it's just you're a little shy when it comes to admitting it! That's okay, Kalim knows a few drinks from the land of hot sands that will loosen your tongue and if that fails there's always Jamil's hypnosis magic that can make you confess! Look, no matter how you go about it, Kalim is just all so convinced that you love him that it doesn't matter what you really think!

Ruggie is manipulative (Lord have mercy on you people the day I finally muster up the courage to write Savancalw yandere headcanons)

Oh sure, male hyenas are passive when it comes to females everyone knows that! But whilst Ruggie does follow -albeit loosely- the reserved yet desperate routines of hyena courtship, he leans more towards suffocating his chosen mate with his presence rather than showing a desperate side of himself. He's always circling his chosen darling, stalking them down the halls, trailing after them all over campus, he never leaves them alone. Any confrontations from his darling will lead to an immediate sob story. Something about how he could smell food in your bag and didn't have any money to buy his own meal or maybe about how he never met a girl as cute as you in slums so he had no idea how to approach you properly. Of course, this is all a hoax, he just needs you to drop your guard, to look him in the eyes with your sad, heart-throbbing orbs, then it's game over, you're all his. "Hey, what's with the dull face? come on, laugh with me skskksks~".

Jack is a protective.

It's only natural really, wolves are overprotective when it comes to their pack members and sure maybe you aren't really a part of his pack per se. But that doesn't mean he's just going to leave you to fend for yourself. You're all so small and frail, you could never hold your own against anyone! Let alone all the mages in NRC. But Jack can, he can protect you and defend himself, it's not a problem. He's very likely torn on whether or not to actually kidnap his darling. On one hand, he doesn't want you to hate him for stealing you away from your friends, he wouldn't want to play the role of the big bad wolf in your story. But on the other hand, poor Jack just isn't lucid enough to fully understand that whisking you away is wrong. In the end, you probably just wind up in his room locked away, or better yet, protected from all the horrors of the outside world.

Deuce is an obsessive

He just wants to be around you all the time. It's mostly some deep routed paranoia that at any fleeting moment you'll somehow abandon him finding refuge with either Cater or Ace. Maybe you find their lazy stupid mannerisms amusing, is that it? If you want lazy, he can be lazy too! Or maybe you want to be with Riddle? Do you like guys who are mean spirited and quick to anger? He can yell! He can yell so much better than Riddle can! Deuce will do anything, anything at all to get you to stay with him. Even if some of his tactics are a little more painful and involve some broken bones.

Hypnosis Mic

Jakurai is possessive and protective

He's overbearing to put it simply, constantly hovering around you, ghosting his fingers over your flesh, or leaving lingering kisses on any patch of exposed skin. First and foremost Jakurai is a doctor, so it's his nature to be nurturing, sure you can accept that much. But what he does to you isn't nurturing in any way shape or form! Juakurai isn't above using sedatives and other forms of medications to keep you compliant, that's not what a good doctor should do, you're both lucid enough to know that. But to Ill-Doc you leave him no other choice, you're constantly disobeying him, trying to find some underhanded way to leave him. So what else can the poor man do! He needs to keep his only escape from the tedious loneliness he's been cursed with, safe!

kamigami no asobi

Balder is possessive and obsessive

He can't help it, there's just something so radiant and sparkling inside of you, something that he can't let get tainted by the darkness that rests within others. You're always walking on thin ice around him, chewing every single word before conversing, calculating every single step before daring to make the slightest move. One wrong look or miscalculated word could get him to spiral into a fit madness, and this time there won't be anyone to save you. But that's only if you do the wrong thing! Just keep playing the role of the loving, adoring girlfriend and there won't be any further...complications. If you simply show him how much you love him, Balder can become all so sickly sweet. A perfect doting boyfriend, constantly sharing his precious meat with you and dressing you up in prettiest lavish gowns from Asgard.

Obey me

Asmodeus is sneaky

The avatar of lust is used to swift meaningless relationships, too caught up in the passion and pleasure to really care about the other person. But with his darling things are different. Oh sure, the lust and sexual tension is still there, always hovering around the air like a thick unbreakable fog. Accept this time there's something else, a sort of jealous aroma blowing through the dense mist. It's intoxicating, making Asmoudaus crave only his little darling, he only wants to look at them, touch them, kiss only them! It's almost like he's addicted to every itty bitty detail about his newfound lover. Will Asmodeus get bored of the relationship over time? Absolutely! But will he ever actually leave his darling to their own devices? Hell no! Asmodeus may have the right to cheat on his darling but they can NEVER so much as think about another man other than him! HE.OWNS.THEM! Their body, mind, soul, it all belongs to him!

Black Butler

Snake is Jealous (I haven't written for black butler since, like, sixth grade)

Snake does love you, this is an evident fact, he never once leaves your side. It's suffocating sure, but it's only because the scaled boy is so paranoid that you might run away with someone else, someone normal. His snakes (mostly Emily) are always chaining the two of you together, constantly curling around your skin so you won't get any ideas to escape. Lord forbid you so much as look at another man, that'll make the white-haired snake charmer go into a fit of pure utter rage. normally Snake won't punish you, but when his jealousy gets too much to keep inside he'll let it out by screaming at you. Asking you if you find him repulsive if you wish to leave him for someone who looks normal. This will than lead to him crushing you in his arms, begging you not to leave him! Overall Snake is one of the tamer yandere of the Phantomhive residence, a real blessing in disguise.

mystic messenger

Saeyoung is obsessive

It's really all just a small accident, this was never really meant to happen, he wasn't meant to fall in love with you. Saeyoung probably just came across your profile whilst on the web, scrolling through some database or another. like I said, IT.WAS.AN.ACCIDENT...and yet all so many times accidents can lead to something...more. Saeyoung doesn't know what particular thing it was about you that caught his attention, maybe it was your cute face or some little odd, out of place detail in your bio. Either way, it has the red-haired hacker surfing through every site just to learn more about you. Picking the internet apart just to find out some small fragments of your personal life. It's become a sort of hobby -addiction- of his, stalking your every move through trackers and reverse cameras. One day he might even gather the courage to speak to you in person, but for now, he's content watching your pretty face from behind a screen.

Code Realize

Impey is Obessasive and clingy

It's your smile, right from the get-go, Impey was enthralled by your cheerful smile. It makes his heart skip a beat, his palms grow sweaty, and his breath hitches in his throat. He just adores that pearly white grin. He's constantly pestering you, poking your cheek, and asking you to smile for him just once more. "Just a small smile, please~". His clinginess is mostly due to the fear of losing you or more so having you stolen from him. That's why he never let's go of your hand and is constantly locking you in his room. "I'm the only one that deserves to see that smile" it's such a childish phrase, primarily when it's accompanied by his renowned pout. Of course, things start to go downhill when you outright refuse to smile. Choosing instead to cry and scream, begging someone to save you from this mad man. Impey is borderline delusional if he thinks you'll ever smile for him again, after the stunt he's pulled.

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minnie-mei · 4 years

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What would Atsumu Miya, Toru Oikawa, and Tetsurō Kuroo react to an s/o who is extremely innocent and naive, someone who is very codependent, but has a lot of past childhood trauma? Like their s/o is easy to manipulate and completely submissive to them, they can't really see the red flags.

Yandere! Haikyuu with naive/innocent darling Headcanons

Miya Atsumu, Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Testurou

Yandere! AU

WARNING: Obsessive/unhealthy tendencies, mentions of kidnapping

Miya Atsumu

Atsumu is fully aware of how easily he can control you and uses it to his full advantage

he doesn't even feel guilty about it all

your passiveness may have been the reason you caught his attention actually

The red flags with him come quick and obvious, so the chances of kidnapping are usually high for him

however, if you don't notice them at all, then he's willing to let you live normally as long as your life basically revolves around him

it gets to a point where you can't go anywhere without him, except to his games

Despite his sadistic tendencies he controls well, he's pretty gentle with you outside of bed

he wants to keep you, and others, believing that you're in a normal relationship

pda and giving you attention is a part of that

but he does strongly enjoy it himself as well, so he sees no problem in this

kisses you constantly to mark his territory in a way

(hickeys are also a guarantee)

He never really let's you hang out with anyone, especially those who seem like competition, so that mixed with his general cockiness causes his jealousy to show up rarely

but when he does get jealous, it doesn't take much for the other person to back off

just that one intense look he does, you know the one

Atsumu can be scary

He wouldn't get to a point where he has to punish you physically

if you disobey him, he'll withdraw from you and your dependence on him will make you stressed and desperate

you'll come crawling back to him, just how he likes

He knows he's manipulating you, but he doesn't really care about the consequences it may have on you, he thinks it's best for your relationship

his world revolves around you as well, although he'd never admit it, and he only gets so intense out of desperation for your affection

His urges are telling him to kidnap you, but he really thinks it would be a sacrifice of normality if he did so

your lives are relatively average, and he likes that he can bring you with him when he goes out

To be honest, he'd end up resorting to kidnapping you eventually (most likely during a transition from highschool to college, or college to adulthood)

luckily for him, stockholm syndrome would set in for you pretty fast so you'd go back to a similar routine from before

no doing anything or going anywhere without him, except his games (where he'd have reserved front row seating for you)

He'd still be good to you through all of this though, and is the type to spoil you when he's in the mood (which happens occasionally when he's feeling particularly insecure)

Kuroo Testurou

Kuroo, although possessive and easily jealous of other guys, is perfectly down to let you live your life normally if he sees he can handle it

so you having a personality that would allow him to control you without kidnapping you? He loves that

he treats you extremely good as well, and isn't worried about any friends of yours calling out his behavior

he knows this is the best you've been treated in your life, and takes great pleasure knowing he does this for you

He's not one for manipulation, but he does want to insure that you are loyal to him more than any other

he tends to limit your social interaction and alone time more and more as time goes on, which you don't notice at all

he makes you come to all of his games, something you do anyway and don't mind

you make it so incredibly easy for him, like you were made for him

He's convinced you're his soulmate and treats you as such

his red flags aren't too easy to spot, but he once made a minor slip up when it was late and he was tired

grasping your wrist a little too hard and telling you that you were soulmates and belonged to him no matter what

of course, you misunderstood and thought it was nice

You're welcome to talk to him about any of the past traumas you've had; he'll listen carefully and will do his best to make things easier for you

despite of this, he'll use anything you told him to his advantage as long as it makes you stay with him

As far as his intense jealousy goes, he's willing to violent/aggressive over you and probably has in the past (even before you were dating)

he doesn't do it openly though, more likely to threaten someone in private so no one would believe them

he's a scheming person, just like he appears, but nobody believes he's like this anywhere outside of volleyball

he's very dominant in general, and loves showing it

always one for pda and some light manhandling in public, pulling and tossing you around when he touches and hugs you

has to be touching you whenever you're in public

(piggyback rides and holding your hand/waist are most common)

His most controlling tendencies don't come out until you're a bit older, out of high school

there's not a chance of the two of you going to separate colleges, he would simply not allow it

this is when he stops letting you go out with other people without him, or any place that causes you to be out for more than an hour

And you listen to him, like you always do

Oikawa Tooru

Oikawa would eat this shit up

he loves it

it's all he wants

He's a bit delusional, as well as obsessive, so you feeding into it only makes it that more intense (not that you know or anything)

his tendencies can get extreme really fast, especially if you're so obedient like you are

if you were the type to reject him, that would be the sense of reality that kept him grounded, but nope, that's not you

His obsession would be pretty obvious to his close friends, but only because of his change in personality

he doesn't talk about you too much, not wanting other people to start liking you the way he does

The team sees you often, at practices and games because Oikawa stopped hanging out with them in his free time; he spends it with you instead

like atsumu he uses your personality to his full advantage as well

he's never had feelings like this for anyone before, so he knows he has to keep you

he'd do anything to keep you

Other than the slight clinginess and how controlling he can be, he hides his more intense feelings exceptionally well from you

the only time there's been a particularly obvious red flag was when you caught him threatening one of the girls from his fan club

he later came up with a believable lie to make you think he was just being an average protective boyfriend, not wanting anyone to be mean to you

In your eyes, that was one of the nicest, most loyal things that had ever been done for you

(little did you know that he's done that more than once)

Speaking of that incident, the only one that was allowed to speak down to you in any way, was him

the moment he catches word that his fanclub was spreading ugly rumors or spoke harshly to you

that's it for them lmao rip

He doesn't say mean things to you often, only when he needs you feeling vulnerable

and it's usually not even from him directly

he typically makes up lies about how your friends said something bad about you and no one loves you except him

He devotes all of his time to you

and after high school, whatever you want to do doesn't matter because you have to go with him

He's pretty selfish and controlling due to his past and feeling like he's not good enough

having you with him, listening to him, loving him, obeying his every word

it makes him feel good

He absolutely cannot and would not risk you being taken from him

he'd spoil you unconditionally, keeping you far from other people

you're his everything and he's yours

it's going to stay that way

_____

I was gonna do bokuto as a bonus character for this one but I've already done similar headcanons for him before and I thought it'd be repetitive rip

-Admin Duckie

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yan-twst · 4 years

Note

Yan dormleaders getting asked by their crush to kill someone headcanons please.

warnings: general yandere content, violence, blood, mentions of death

riddle rosehearts

at first, he’d be put off- where... where did such a violent idea even come from...?

riddle may be incredibly jealous and controlling, and perhaps even rough at time; however, this doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to prove himself in any way he can to the one he loves... even if it means to kill

it makes him nervous- of course it does, he’s never done anything like that- but at the same time, it makes him giddy to think his crush asked him something like that

the more logical part of his brain can’t comprehend why they asked such a thing- he should be horrified, should be terrified they wanted him to do something like that... but the fact they turned to him and not someone else gives him so much joy he can’t even bring himself to care

riddle is organized and methodical, not to mention quite powerful with magic. if this is truly what his beloved wants, he’ll do so; just like the queen of hearts truly did cut off her subjects’ heads, he’ll be an executioner if his darling truly needs him to do so

of course, he’s going to expect something in return; truly, if they ask something so dangerous of him... they can’t just expect him to do as they say and then as nothing more, can they? he reasons if his crush was fucked up enough to ask for someone’s life, it’s only fair for them to handle his less than healthy obsession with them... right?

leona kingscholar

leona almost wants to applaud the little herbivore. wow, how much courage did they have to gather to ask that of him, hm? don’t they know in how much trouble they could get for that? they’re asking for someone else’s life, and they’ve come to him?

of course he could easily do so; leona is strong, and it’s not like anyone would survive being subjected to his unique magic for a long enough time. similarly, there’d be no body; just and left to drift in the wind. logically, he knows it’d be easy

but well, he’s going to play with his crush a little. he’ll tease them: why, are they not strong enough? oh, the little herbivore is too scared to get their hands dirty so they come to him?

of course he’ll do it, though. he hates how obsessed he is with the damn little herbivore, but he isn’t stupid enough to waste this opportunity. hell, it’s not like he wouldn’t be willing to kill for them- the fact they asked him to do so is just the push for him to do so

he’ll use the fact he actually did so to manipulate and terrify his crush. oh? he can so, so easily shift the blame on them, don’t they know? he’s a prince, they’re a nobody; even if he’s just the second born, he can so easily slide out of trouble, but... Oh, but they can’t- so they better be nice for him, unless they’d prefer to spend the rest of their life rotting in a jail cell

(of course he’d never actually do so; he’d never hand his beloved over to anyone, they’re his, but it never hurts to terrify them so they don’t stray from his side; to be remembered what they caused. hey, he was just the weapon; if anything, it was them who killed the poor sod, weren’t they?)

azul ashengrotto

there’s nothing azul wouldn’t do for his darling. this man is desperate; he’s deluded himself into believing his stalking and his obsession are “genuine love”. in fact, it’s him who eggs his darling to tell him to do so; he can tell someone’s bothering them. oh, why not tell him who? he can help, don’t they know?

of course azul uses a contract for this. he likes to think he’s helping out of the love in his heart, but in reality, he’s trying to secure his crush to his side. it doesn’t take too long until the contract is signed and he’s promised to disappear the one his crush asked for

it should be noted azul isn’t the one getting his hands dirty. the tweels are more than enough of a weapon for him to send out; his crush watches as the octopus merman instructs the two eels on their target, and the odd grins the two sport. it’s fun for them, azul says. they’ll toss the body in the ocean and it’ll never be found

of course, the contract makes them be forced to stick by azul’s side: he didn’t even try to hide the clause when he presented it. breaking the contract’s terms wouldn’t only make them lose even more of their freedom; it would release their “dirty secret”, would make public they had asked for someone to die...

azul has effectively tied his darling’s hands behind their back, so to speak. even if the contract expires, he never promised to keep the secret: the fact he could so easily ruin their life is a standing threat to motivate them into obeying

it’s bonus points if his darling becomes scared of floyd and jade. azul might ask them to retell exactly how everything went down- for formalities, so the client knows the job was carried out efficiently- but it’s merely a way to remind his darling that if they chose to do something azul disliked, well... the eels would surely have fun chasing them down, don’t they see?

kalim al-asim

riches, jewels, clothes, exotic animals, silk clothes and expensive banquets: kalim is more than happy to give all those to his crush in the snap of a finger, if only to see them smile

kalim is... not a violent person. every impulse he gets, he internally justifies it as “love”- is he jealous that others are talking to his crush? oh, it’s love! he feels the need to lock them up for himself...? oh, that’s his instinct to protect the one he loves, right...?!

so when his crush asks him that, he’s incredibly distressed. that’s...!

however, once again, he’s quick to justify it. surely... no, for sure, if his darling wants someone dead, they must be a terrible person, right?! his crush is the sweetest person ever, so if they want this person dead then... then they definitely deserve it, right?!

he keeps justifying it in that way- even when he pays off some mercenaries, even when they bring him the head as proof the deed was done; this is... all because of love, so it’s ok, right?

his crush better be ready to comfort him. he’s going to be a bit shaken- even though this isn’t the first time he’s been around death (whenever he was kidnapped, he often watched his captor be killed right before his eyes by jamil or another servant in order to save him), but... well, it’s a bit different when he’s the one who actually paid to have it done

kalim isn’t one to weigh favours against others, but he might be a bit pushy. surely, after doing this... he has the right to hog his crush’s time and attention, right? he can keep them for himself- he.... he did such a thing for them, so it’s ok! it’s a fair deal, right? he’ll be super nice to them, too... so it’s ok! it’s ok because it’s love, right?

vil schoenheit

vil knows it could be so easy. the head of pomefiore must brew the strongest poison- that’s the rule, and he accomplished it. tasteless, scentless, colorless, untraceable poison? of course he could make it; it’d be a shame if he couldn’t, considering how much work he’s put into the craft...

when first asked, vil would be a bit cautious. wanting to kill someone... what kind of feelings could his beloved have for such a person? did they do something to them...?

even if he knows only negative emotions could be behind that request, he feels jealous. to want to kill someone... means that someone has been occupying his crush’s thoughts; their image has been running through his beloved’s mind, so much so they wish for their death... and he hates that.

vil always wishes to be number one in his darling’s eyes; his efforts, his pains, he wants them recognized by the one he deems to be his love. the thoughts of someone else occupying his beloved’s mind are enough for him to forgo any sort of moral discussion about the crime he’ll commit

usually, vil would ask rook to do these sort of dirty tasks, not because he was incapable of harsh work, but because he preferred to preserve himself. however, this is something he needs to do himself: beauty is obtained through effort, and this too is just another stepping stone to his beloved, is it not...?

vil’s beloved crush better be ready for him to use this sin against them. he has no problem reminding them of all he’s done for them- he’s given them a custom-made skincare routine, every beauty product under the sun, adjusted their wardrobe, and he’s killed in their name. it’d be horribly ungrateful on their part for them to deny him anything he asked, wouldn’t they?

idia shroud

idia would do anything to get his crush to even look at him. he deeply believes he has no chance, even before speaking to them- anything, anything to get their attention...! it’s not enough to stalk them: he needs them

it’s so bad he doesn’t even think much of the request. he’s so lost on cloud nine of being so close- he could smell their shampoo if he leant closer, oh gods, oh gods; what is killing someone, compared to this? he’d do anything to be close to them

of course, idia isn’t going to brute force anything. he’s well aware he’s not the strongest student, muscles never trained from days spent indoors, locked in his room; but he prides himself in his genius

he’s proud. he shouldn’t be- he knows it, this is fucked up, he shouldn’t have done this, his crush is fucked up for asking this and he’s even more so for doing it- but he’s able to shake off all nausea and anxiety by knowing he’s doing it for them

he’s got no problem in showing up to his darling’s dorm all covered in blood; oh, don’t worry, he wasn’t seen, there’ll be no security tapes of what he did. he doesn’t even care how his crush grows scared of his bloody figure, hair glowing and illuminating the drying blood; they’re so close, so close- they owe him, don’t they...? the mere thought makes him grin wildly

idia is already a tad delusional: sure, he’s convinced himself he’s unlovable, and he doesn’t believe his crush will love him back, but he’s deluded himself into believing this is the only way to do things. doing such a violent action may as well be the tipping point; if he’s capable of killing... what’s stopping him from just taking his crush? to take them and lock them up for himself; isn’t that just another way of taking a life?

malleus draconia

why would such a sweet human desire something so morbid...? malleus can’t help but see his crush as a little animal, a young human with no power compared to him. it’s a bit jarring, to see them ask for something like death upon another...

... but it makes him so unbelievably amused. who would’ve known they were so dark? he’ll go on to say such an innocent exterior was hiding such a dark, horrible desire...

he’s projecting, absolutely. if he sees his crush: someone he considers so adorable and loveable, the one human he’d do anything for, the person he will spend the rest of his life with, hide a desire to have someone kill... then it’s ok if he- powerful and serious malleus draconia, who acts as gentle and kind as he can with his little human crush, star student of NRC holds a desire to hoard his treasure, keep his crush away from prying eyes, to have them think of him and only him no matter what method he must use, right?

he’s so amused by this child of man’s gall to ask him, one of the world’s most powerful mages, for such a favour- and also curious. did this other person do something to his beloved? did they hurt them? lay a hand on them? the thought alone is enough for him to desire that bastard’s blood spilled, even without knowing if his suspicions are even close to the truth- so of course he does

he makes sure his crush knows he did so. it was a painful death; he’ll assure them of that. burning fire, electric magic, thorns wrapping around an almost lifeless corpse: if his crush doesn’t find a way to shut him up, he’ll describe every detail.

they caused this; this was the work of a child of man, not of a dark fae, he’ll remind them. he’ll justify any future actions with this- oh, he’s a monster for kidnapping them? he’s horrible for locking them up and forcing them onto the role of his lover? did they forget how much of a monster they are, too?

#yandere #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al-asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #death tw #blood tw

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Four ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 4887

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Thanks for all your interactions with this story! In honor of all the writing I got done for the World Wide Write-a-thon, here’s a bonus chapter :)

Translations: Mellon = friend

Haldir wasn’t kidding. In order to make up for the time spent with Alex, he pushes us hard. That, combined with the unfamiliar gait of Rumil’s horse, leaves me sore and aching by the time we finally stop well after dark.

Rumil helps me to the ground, giving me an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

I wave off his concerns, starting my stretching routine. “S’alright. I’ll probably get used to the all-day riding the second we get to Imladris.”

At this, he cracks a smile. “If you want to wash in the river, better go now. I’ll take dinner to Alex.”

I shouldn’t leave Alex alone. But my body aches and is covered in dirt, and a part of me just isn’t ready to face him. I need to take a moment for myself, away from everyone else, to process and think about what all this means. So I skirt around the hill that marks camp and head to the riverbank.

I undress and wade into the river, stopping when the cool water comes to my shoulders. Baranor had supplied me with an extra bar of soap and I use that to cleanse my body and hair of the dirt that attached itself to me during the day. At the top of the hill that overlooks the river, I catch sight of Alex, sitting isolated near the pile of bags that indicate our spot of camp. I purse my lips.

What does his presence mean?

I had been quite convinced that this world is in my head, that I’m concocting some elaborate, possibly lucid, dream and that I would wake up any minute. Or, perhaps, that I had hit my head like Baranor suggested and am now in some sort of coma. But now Alex is here. The memories I have of him clearly show that he’s important to me. I can recall a long line of birthday parties, study breaks, summer camping trips spent staring up at the sky. I remember him comforting me after a bad day, us getting into arguments and then making up, me cheering him on at some sort of competition. But when I try to look at the other faces there, to zero in on any one and pull up memories of them, all I get is a vague blur and a splitting headache. I give up the fruitless effort and turn my thoughts back to Alex.

Alex, who I know I know, is just as real to me as Haldir or Baranor. And each man here acts in a way that I wouldn’t expect — if I created them, wouldn’t they act as I would? I am not stoic like Haldir or silly like Rumil. I don’t posses Baranor’s healing knowledge or Orophin’s attention to detail. And just the sheer vastness of this world…there’s no way I could imagine it all. Even now, we follow a path of which I have no knowledge, so how could I have dreamed up that path?

The ache behind my eyes deepens.

This is too much.

This world feels real. The people feel real. My budding friendships with them feel real—just as real as my friendship with Alex.

I groan, flipping on my back to float.

And I lose the ability to breathe. Because these constellations aren’t the ones I remember. They dance in unfamiliar patterns across the inky black sky, distant and watchful as always, but completely unknown to me.

I love the stars. I love them in a way that causes my heart to ache, that sometimes makes me weep. Night after night I sought them out, charting them by telescopes and my naked eye. I know my constellations like I know the back of my hand—I studied and tracked them relentlessly.

I wouldn’t have replaced my stars.

I release a shaky breath.

A cold dread creeps through my bones, turning the water frigid. Everything suddenly seems more predatory, more dangerous, from the tall grass on the bank to the trees far in the distance….Even the men I travel with.

For one, wild moment, I entertain the idea that they are exactly who they say they are — elves from some unknown realm. Elves, not men. Elves who have pointed ears and wear intricate braids and walk with a grace I could never hope to imitate. Elves who can see far into the distance, hear every comment I make under my breath, ride for hours without tiring, and draw their weapons in less than a second, using reflexes that far outmatch mine.

Elves who inhabit a world that has a foreign set of stars.

The water that brushes against my neck feels suffocating. Gasping, I swim to shore, pulling myself onto the riverbank. It takes me multiple tries to redress, and I realize that my hands are shaking—I am shaking. I collapse into the grass, drawing in heaving breaths. This is too much, this is too much, this is too much!

“Cosima.”

My name comes from over the hill.

It’s Haldir’s voice.

In the beats of silence that follow, all I can hear is my wavering breath.

He calls my name again, closer this time.

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, concentrating on the sound of his voice. Solid, assured, stable. Everything I do not feel. My breath begins to even out. My shaking subsides. The sound of grass crunching underfoot reaches my ears, and I stand just in time to meet Haldir’s approach.

He settles his weight on his back foot to balance on the slope of the hill, giving me a stern look. “We lost sight of you.”

I stiffen, pulling back from him. “Were you watching me bathe?”

His eyes blow wide. “N-no! Of course not, I-I would not presume to—” I’ve never seen him look so out of sorts. The tips of his—pointed—ears burn red and his eyes dart wildly around looking anywhere but at me.

The sight is so at odds with what I know about him that I can’t help it.

I burst into laughter.

It’s a little hysterical, and maybe I’m crying a bit, but it feels so good to laugh. Haldir lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sigh of relief, and chuckles hesitantly. It rumbles deep in his chest, sounding almost warm. I wipe the tears from my eyes, shaking my head slowly. As the laughter subsides, I study him, taking in everything that marks him as clearly not human.

He feels real.

I pull my gaze from his braids and instead settle on his ice blue eyes. They stare evenly into mine, perhaps studying me too. A wind blows over the river, reminding me just how much I long for my mat and blanket. The fatigue once again makes itself known—much worse after my panic on the riverbank. I shift on my feet, gesturing up the hill. “I think I’m overly tired.”

Haldir inclines his head in acknowledgment, clasping his hands professionally behind his back. “Understandable, given the day you’ve had. I will escort you back.”

I trudge up the hill, concentrating extra hard to not slip in the mud and ruin the bath I just had, Haldir not far behind. We reach the top of the hill and make our way to where the bags are laid out as well as dinner rations distributed.

Alex sits by himself.

He raises his head, his smile of greeting turning to a scowl the moment Haldir crests the hill behind me. He looks past me, addressing Haldir only. “What were you doing with her down there?”

I feel Haldir bristle and once again hurry to de-escalate. “It’s fine, Alex. He only came to get me because I was gone for a while.”

He shrugs, the action seeming jerky and unnatural. “I could have gone to get you.”

I turn and give Haldir a look of apology. I honestly don’t know why Alex doesn’t like him, they haven’t even had a proper conversation. Haldir watches Alex intently, his own mouth set into a hard line. Then, saying nothing, he stalks forward, leaving us alone.

I groan, bringing a hand to my forehead. “They’re not going to hurt me. They’re not going to hurt you, either.”

Alex shakes his head resolutely. “I don’t trust them.”

“You haven’t given them a chance!”

My words—louder than they’d needed to be—ring through the countryside, destroying the peaceful silence.

I sigh, berating myself for once again treating him too harshly. He’s owed the time he needs to adjust. Tentatively, I take a seat across from him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to take in. It took me a little while to get comfortable with them, too, you’ll—”

“No, Cosima,” he groans, cutting me off. “There is no ‘getting used to them’, there’s no ‘learning to trust them’. They’re delusional. They’re dangerous. We can’t let our guard down and get caught up in that. We have to focus on finding a way home.”

I rest my chin on my hands, feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. Something in his sentence reminds me of the conversation I had with myself in the river. Maybe he’s been thinking along similar lines. “Alex, if you’re talking about getting home, then you believe this place is real.”

He squints, raising an eyebrow. “Of course it’s real. There’s no way we’re both making it up. We’re probably in the plains of Africa or-or maybe somewhere in Europe, I don’t really know. The point is, these guys are lying to us. They’re trying to keep us confused and isolated. We need to stay sharp and look for an opportunity to escape.”

“Escape,” I breathe, definitely not wanting the others to hear our conversation. “Have you seen the land we’re traveling? With no supplies, no horses, no maps—we wouldn’t last two days.” Never mind the fact that just a few days ago, I was considering escape, myself.

“We’ll steal supplies then.” He shrugs, passion alighting his eyes. “It doesn’t matter—we’ll figure it out. In the meantime, learn as much about these guys and the landscape as you can and stop letting them try to convince you that they’re a fictional species. I’ll work on taking supplies. Then, when we have enough, we’ll leave.”

I shake my head slowly. Something about leaving, about separating myself from the group and striking out on our own feels wrong. Every survival instinct I have screams at me to stay put, to not abandon the safety net I found by chance. And a voice in the back of my head reminds me that if I’m seeing different stars…if I am under a different sky…well, then maybe there is no going home. I try to reason with him. “They haven’t tried to hurt us yet. They’ve given us their food, their water, allowed us to ride their horses. They’re helping us!”

He rolls his eyes, clearly about to interrupt.

“Just—go along with it until we reach Imladris,” I beg, holding up my hands to silence him. “Then at least we’ll have seen more of the landscape and will know what we’re dealing with. Maybe there will be supplies in the city that we can take, or even someone with knowledge of how to get back to America.”

He grits his teeth. “You need to stop playing into their lies.”

The two of us stare at each other, equally unwilling to back down.

Rumil appears at the top of the hill, smiling broadly. Either he’s oblivious to our argument or trying to diffuse it. He sets a bedroll at my feet. “For you.”

I look between the mat and Rumil, feeling quite guilty. There are only four bedrolls between the six of us now, and I’ve slept soundly on one for every night of my journey. I don’t deserve that…especially now that I’m thinking of robbing and abandoning them. My stomach churns. “Thanks, but I’m fine on the grass. I don’t want to keep taking your stuff.” I wince. Did that sound too suspicious? Could he know my thoughts?

Rumil only winks and plops onto the ground next to me. “Nonsense. It’s Orophin’s anyway.”

I sputter, the laughter escaping me without any real thought. It just feels so natural to be comfortable with Rumil, the others too. So what if they think they’re elves?

So what if they are elves?

Alex’s foot digs into mine, and my laughter dies. His words return to haunt me. They’re delusional…stop playing into their lies….

Haldir joins us. He sits across from Rumil, completing the small circle, saying nothing. He takes out a knife and what looks like a small rock and begins to sharpen the blade.

It’s clear Rumil doesn’t care for silence and he quickly tries to strike up a conversation. “Obviously you know each other now, but Cosima, you couldn’t remember Alex before today. Has anything changed? Do you remember something more?”

I feel each of their eyes on me and I search through the vague remnants of my memory. “I…didn’t know I knew Alex, true. But the minute I saw him, the memories came rushing back—not everything, of course, but I got more context into who he is and who we are to each other. But no, nothing more than that.”

Rumil raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “And who is he?”

“Her friend since childhood,” Alex cuts in smoothly, responding before I can.

Images of two children running down a paved road, cutting up paper and gluing it to popsicle sticks, trying to hit each other with foam swords, race through my mind.

“We…lived down the street from each other,” I recall, smiling as the memories take firmer hold. “I used to go to your house after school and your sister would watch us until our parents got home.”

“We went to prom together.” He gives a short laugh, fondness softening his guarded eyes. “Only because we couldn’t find anyone to go with either of us.”

“It was better that way,” I declare, the start of a smile twitching at my lips. “Who else would have ditched halfway through with me to get snacks and watch a movie?”

He shakes his head slowly, fondness giving way to nostalgia. “I had fun that night.”

“Me too.”

Look at all these memories you have together. See how long you’ve trusted him? How long he’s stuck by your side? Maybe you owe it to him to trust him now.

“That was good.” I whip around, startled to see Baranor leaning against a tall tree, clutching his healer’s bag. I had assumed he was on watch with Orophin. He makes his way over to us. “Perhaps the more you talk about it, the more you will remember.”

I shrug, heart rate slowing down after the scare. “Hopefully. Right now, it seems like my mind’s gone completely blank. I only have the memories I described. Anything beyond is just that—out of reach.”

“Be kind to yourself. Any progress is admirable.” He smiles, walking to the middle of our circle and crouching in front of Alex. “I’d like to take a look at your head and address any injuries you acquired in your time traveling alone.”

Alex hesitates, then rolls up the end of his right legging to reveal a dirty red and brown gash.

“Alex,” I gasp, recoiling from the wound. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugs, wincing slightly when Baranor prods at the edge of the cut. “There were more important things to deal with.”

I roll my eyes as a new set of memories—annoying me more than giving me hope—come to mind. “You always tried to be tougher than everyone else.”

He grins, then grimaces slightly when Baranor starts the cleaning process. Despite that, he retains a playfulness in his tone that’s welcome after our arguments. “True. Way tougher than you! That time you fell out of the tree—gosh, we could hear you shouting for miles.”

That memory flashes forward, too. “I was seven and it hurt!” I defend, crossing my arms indignantly.

Alex quirks a teasing eyebrow. “And did you ever climb a tree again?”

I sniff, turning my head to the sky to avoid seeing the blood weeping from the wound. “I can’t remember.”

“Well, you didn’t,” he snarks.

“Must be why you’re afraid of heights,” Rumil muses, reclining on the grass to watch the stars. Stars that I’m not making up. “You’re going to hate Caras Galadon.”

I turn my head in his direction. “Why?”

Mischief shines brightly in Rumil’s eyes. “The city is built into the trees.”

I gulp, wondering how on Earth I’m going to visit a city that’s built so high up, but then Alex catches my eye, and I understand.

We will not be going to Lothlórien.

{***}

The morning greets us with a cloudy sunrise and a harsh breeze.

Haldir eyes the sky warily. “Secure your supplies as best as you can We are in for a storm today.”

I grimace. It’s not that thunderstorms scare me, but from what I’ve learned about Haldir in our few short days together, I have a feeling he’ll require that we keep riding, no matter the weather conditions. Today probably isn’t going to be fun. A particularly gusty wind blows my cloak from my shoulders and I huff, yanking it back into place.

“Here.” I look up to see Haldir offering me a green and silver clip in the shape of a leaf. I eye it in confusion. “It will keep your cloak secured,” he explains, pointing to his own that clasps at the base of his neck.

“Oh,” I take it from him, slightly stunned at the kind gesture. “Thank you.”

He nods once then pivots on his heel and marches back to his horse a few yards ahead. I turn the clip in my hands, admiring its craftsmanship.

“That will come in handy today,” Rumil notes, bringing his horse up the hill to meet me.

I smile in greeting, securing the edges of my cloak with the clip. “Hey, I was thinking. Would you show me how to tack up the horse? That way I can help with that while you do some of your other tasks.”

He nods, agreeing to my proposal, and launches into a surprisingly in-depth description of how to properly care for and prepare a horse for a day of hard riding. I take in as much as I can but, knowing me, I’ll need some repetition and practice before it truly sticks. When Haldir gives the order to leave, Rumil gives me a leg up. But, much to my confusion, he settles himself behind me on the horse, rather than in front.

“What—“

He reaches around me to take the reins and place them in my hands, which have already clenched into fists. “You are not the only one who has good ideas. Today, I teach you how to ride. Do try your best and please don’t steer us into the river.”

I groan at the truth behind his joke but take the reins in my hands, knowing that its a good idea for me to learn. Riding skill will help when Alex and I are on our own.

Haldir doesn’t turn from his watch of the horizon, but he raises his voice loud enough for us to hear. “Do not slow us down, Cosima.” And, though his voice holds the same seriousness it always does, I swear I can hear the smallest hint of amusement.

{***}

By late morning, it starts to rain. The droplets are cold and big, taking away any warmth spring has to offer. Not long after, it begins to pour and the path turns to mud. Rumil switches places with me then, wanting a more experienced rider directing the horse through the worsening conditions. The rain soaks through my cloak, my tunic, my leggings. I shiver. Looking over, I see that Alex is equally uncomfortable and sits rigidly on the back of Baranor’s horse, using one arm to grip his cloak tighter around him. The others seem inconvenienced, but otherwise unaffected. They do not shiver, nor obsessively wipe the rain from their eyes. They certainly don’t react to cold rain like humans.

About an hour later, the storm really starts, the rain having apparently only been an introduction. Flashes and booms fill the air, loud enough for me to feel the vibrations in my chest. The wind howls and blows fiercely, causing the horses to bend against it to keep their pace. Water falls from the sky in sheets, completely obscuring my line of vision and soaking us all to the bone. With a note of panic, I realize that the river is steadily creeping up the bank, mingling with the mud that has become our path.

I shout over the rain. “Rumil!” Tugging on his arm, I point to the rising water, and he uses his knees to spur the horse forward. We pull up beside Haldir, who greets us with a questioning gaze.

“The path is in danger of flooding,” Rumil informs him, gesturing his head to the water mere inches from the horses’ hooves. A crease appears in Haldir’s brow and he glances around, working to form a plan.

To my surprise, he addresses me rather than Rumil. “Can you and Alexander continue in this weather? Is your health in danger if we do not seek shelter?”

Oh, I want to stop so badly. I want to find shelter, to let my clothes dry, to have a break from being pelted by icy droplets of rain. I want a snack and a blanket and perhaps a warm fire, if that’s not too much to ask.

But Haldir is appealing to my honesty, trusting me to give him an accurate answer. He is showing me the same respect he gives to his brothers, to Baranor, and I cannot take advantage of that trust. So, with a sigh, I shake my head. “No, we’ll be fine. We can keep going.”

Haldir nods once, a tendency of his, and raises his voice to be heard by all over the rain. “Leave the path and go uphill. We ride over the plains.”

I shudder. The planes are exposed. We will lose what little cover from the rain that the trees provide. But I push aside my dread and steel myself for the rest of journey. I can do this.

Hopefully, the rain will stop by nightfall.

{***}

Mercifully, it does. An hour before we stop for the night, the rain dies down, taking the wind and lighting with it.

Rumil has to practically peel me off the horse. He looks me over, eyes widening in alarm, and wraps me in his arms. “Mellon, you are shaking.” I lean into his warmth, though his clothes are as soaked as mine are.

Haldir dismounts and stomps over, giving me a withering glare. He speaks sharply, a bite to his words. “You said you would be fine.”

“And I meant it,” I snap back, annoyed from discomfort and the venom in his voice. “I just need to dry off and warm up, is all.”

He holds his glare steady, probably assessing the honesty in my statement. Or just trying to intimidate me. Finally, he nods, still angry, but resigned. “Baranor is starting a fire. You and Alexander shed your cloaks and sleep as close to it as you can.”

“Don’t you need me too-”

He cuts me off. “We will take care of the preparations for the night. You rest.”

When I make a noise of agreement to his plan, Haldir walks away, taking Rumil’s horse with him. With a final, worried smile, Rumil pushes me in the direction of the small fire, walking the opposite way to follow his brother.

I practically collapse on my bedroll next to the fire.

Across the flames, Alex sets me with an indecipherable look. “That was a long day.”

I huff in agreement, unable to do much more now that my body realizes how drained it is.

A pause. Then, “Do you think we’ll reach Imladris soon?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting desperately to sink into sleep. Instead, I force myself to do some mental math. “Based on the timeline Orophin gave me, we’re probably about eight days away. Though, I don’t know how much the storm set us back. Why?”

He flops on his mat, pulling a probably damp blanket up to his chin. “Just trying to figure out how much more of this awful traveling we have ahead of us.”

I want to roll my eyes, but, before I can, sleep takes me.

{***}

When I open my eyes, it’s still dark out.

The fire has mostly died, though it retains a soft orange glow that gives me enough light to see the faces of my soundly sleeping companions. Alex has not moved from his spot across the fire, but to my right and left are Rumil and Baranor, the four of us forming a circle around the weakening flames. Haldir and Orophin must be standing watch.

I sit up slowly, trying to avoid making noise that could wake my friends. I press my hand against my cloak that is laid next to the fire—still a bit damp. It will need until morning. Twisting slightly to stretch my aching body, I notice the small bundle next to my mat, and curiously pull back the cloth. Inside the makeshift pouch sits a serving of lembas bread and a handful of red berries. I smile, pulling the dinner into my lap.

While I eat, I let my eyes scan the rolling hills of the plains. I’ve noticed that Haldir relaxes camp when we’re surrounded by trees, but in the plains, he sets a double watch. Looking at the landscape, I suppose I understand. The dips and peaks provide good cover—not just for us, but for anyone wishing to do us harm. There are plenty of hills around us of equal height, meaning the advantage of having the high ground is pretty much nonexistant. And, tonight especially, the landscape is encapsulated in a thick fog, obscuring much from my eyesight. But elves have much better vision, I reassure myself. Haldir and Orophin will be able to see just fine.

I hold my breath.

They are not elves. They are men, just like any other.

It seems I have to remind myself of that more lately. It seems too easy, given the differences between us, to accept their story. But as Alex says, they have to be playing some sort of trick on us. But why? Out of malevolence?

Immediately, I recoil from that thought. My companions seem much too kind, much too genuine to be liars. Even Haldir, who defaults to being standoffish and cold, has never made me feel like I’m in danger. In fact, he actively keeps us all from it. Even now, I’m sure he’d much rather be asleep, warming by the fire, but he and his brother brave the elements, keeping themselves awake and uncomfortable to ensure our safety.

How can people like that be liars?

How can they be bad?

Boots squelch against the mud and I look over my shoulder. Haldir walks up the hill, coming back from watch. Upon noticing me staring at him, he raises an eyebrow and comes to crouch between my mat and what’s left of the fire. He holds up his hands, warming them. “Can’t sleep?”

I shrug, fiddling with the edge of the cloth that holds my dinner. “Don’t know why, I’m tired enough. How was watch?”

He smiles softly as he glances around, still seeming to subconsciously take note of his surroundings. “Foggy, but quiet. We probably don’t need two, but I feel better that way, given all the hills.”

I offer him the remainder of my bread and berries, which he accepts with a nod of thanks. “Are we in danger?”

He pauses, chewing a berry. He doesn’t look at me and seems to take the time to choose his words very carefully. “The risks are lessened here.”

“Which means the worst is ahead of us,” I guess.

His eyes leave the horizon and turn to bore into mine. “The four of us are well-skilled in battle and have made this journey a hundred times before.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He only raises his own eyebrow to match mine, popping another berry into his mouth. He stands, brushes his hands off and returns the bundle to me. “I must wake Rumil and Baranor so Orophin can come back. You should try to sleep.”

I nod, my full belly and the warmth from the fire lulling me back into tiredness. I lay down on the mat and tuck my head into the crook of my arm just in time to see Haldir rouse his youngest brother and take his spot on the mat. Rumil gives me a sleepy smile before waking Baranor and the two head off together, presumably to relieve Orophin and take over watch.

Haldir settles on his mat and notices my gaze over the hill. “Goodnight,” he says pointedly, then rolls onto his back.

“Goodnight,” I mumble, falling back into sleep.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day :) Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing on Ao3! That will notify you automatically when I post there.

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Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @fangirl-nonsense @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @sheriffgerard @boywivlove

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jjuzoir · 4 years

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Match Maker | s. banri

request: “Hello! I personally really love your writing and your whole aesthetic is my dream lol 👉👈 Can I request a scenario where reader and Banri are best friends since childhood? You can turn it into best friends to lovers kind of thing if you feel like it. I’m personally a huge fan of best friends to lovers aus, they just,,, melt my heart 🥺 Thank you so much, please don’t feel like you have to rush it and take your time! 💞” from anon

a/n: i accidentally deleted your anon but i managed to save the request itself sooryy^^ i am so sorry it’s taken me so long omg 🥺 i love you sooo much anonie 💕✨ i love f2l so much too it’s so cute just seeing people who love each other being able to be with each other is !!! ahhh ✨💕 i really enjoyed working on it and i’m really happy with it hhhh thank you sm for requesting ilysm ahhh

word count: 2973

There were many perks to being friends with Banri, he was funny and nice when he wanted to be— he’d help you out with homework and never let you down; if there was one thing you could always count on Banri to be it was determined and loyal. But there were downsides to it too like the looks you’d get for hanging out with a guy with such a shitty reputation, the way he’d always get into fights, or seeing him waste his life away due to lack of interest. There were the multiple fights you had to endure, patching him after he got his ass beaten to a pulp the first few times.

But you wouldn’t trade him for the world. You had stuck with him through so many things, so many phases and bruises, beginnings and ends, you knew him like the back of your hand and you knew how hard it was for him to live such an “easy” life. He liked a challenge, something to work hard towards, something worth fighting for— so he could relish in the satisfaction, but that something never came. When everything comes easy you can never really bask in satisfaction; the afterglow after a succeeding.

Maybe at first, you guessed, Banri did enjoy it but he soon grew tired; everything was easy, too easy. How could he enjoy a life with no challenges when what he liked the most was a challenge?

That’s why when he joined the Mankai company you were ecstatic, finally a non-destructive hobby after years of fights and punches. It was why you didn’t mind distancing yourself from him, to let Settsu enjoy himself and get to know theater— you guessed you just didn’t know how far was enough, leading you to grow farther away than either of you expected; than either of you needed.

Looking back, Banri was somewhat grateful; he knew had you stuck around he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate with the growing feelings he had blooming in his chest.

He realized his feelings for you weren’t the same when texting you wasn’t enough, when meeting you at school wasn’t enough; when he realized that he wanted more. He never took into account how often you two would be together, it felt so natural, there was never a second thought or a minute to imagine what would happen if your routine were to change. After school and during breaks, you’d always be together chatting away; to not have you there by his side as often was weird. It wasn’t as if he never saw you but whenever you left he felt a bitter feeling in his mouth, it left him feeling unsatisfied. What was once a friendship that lasted 24 hours a day soon shortened into a relationship that would last as long as school breaks would allow.

He hoped that once he quit the troupe— after making his point known to Juza, he’d be able to go back to his routine with you, perhaps confess or just let it go, he just wanted to ditch acting and see where you two would go. But he never really quit and so the distance between you two became bigger.

You never grew estranged, neither of you would’ve been able to live without the other by this point— 14 years of friendship, of familiarity and comfort, can’t go down the drain like that. To you Banri was the need for a future, for excitement and adventure, and to him, you were home, nostalgic and known. But going from hanging around each other everyday to almost once in a blue moon, it hit hard and it hit roughly.

By the third performance, you and him could barely meet in person— you had joined clubs while he practiced, your classes weren’t the same and your part time job started demanding more attention; so all you could do was text. He hated texting, you could never really express your tone and feelings properly, but your relationship— or what remained of it, now hung on a thin thread of texts. It was weird, heart breaking almost, to see the shell that remained of your friendship.

It was around that time Banri realized he needed to act on his feelings for you, it was when he realized he could lose you.

He didn’t know how to confront you about it— the boy you had been hanging out around, he’d seen you two, heard the rumors of a possible romance, but he never confronted you. Blue eyes could only watch in confusion as the situation unfolded itself; you two were 17, not kids anymore, it’d be weird for him to pop in one day and demand for you to explain yourself to him. Banri wasn’t delusional, he knew you didn’t owe him an explanation.

Izumi noticed the uncertainty and hesitation in him, how something or someone was bothering him. It was soon after that his discomfort was known to the rest of the company and they grew confused and concerned— some more worried than others. It was her who ended up confronting Banri, she had to convince the dyed blond to not threaten the young boy with behavior and discipline.

Even through his short answers and cold stare it didn’t take the brunette long to understand what was bothering him.

“So, you like your best friend?” Izumi’s pink eyes were tinted with understanding and pity as she looked at the young boy.

However, Banri was too prideful to answer, instead opting to roll his eyes in acknowledgment.

“Well, why don’t you say something about it?”

“[Name] doesn’t owe me an explanation,” he muttered, he had thought about it but really— he was also afraid; if you were dating that boy then it meant his feelings were one sided and he could ruin your trust, make you feel like you had a babysitter or a possessive friend, and accidentally reveal the feelings he had only recently begun to acknowledge.

“I guess you’re right, but you owe yourself closure,” Izumi states straight into his eyes, “Just try talking to them about it.”

“Hmph…”

He stared at your contact name for a while before pressing it that night, he spent at least 14 minutes typing and re-typing what he wanted to send, never before had he been so self conscious when talking to you.

As he laid buried within his covers, only the soft light of his phone shining, he realized how important you were to him; he couldn’t fuck up.

‘Hey, our next performance is next week wanna come??????’

Once he had settled for a text and was ready to press send he heard a deep, and extremely annoying, voice coming from beside him.

“Delete some question marks, it makes you look desperate.”

“Fuckin’- were you reading my texts?” Banri barked at the golden eyed boy, what was that creep doing getting into his conversation with you?

“Kinda hard not to when you’ve got your ringer on, this isn’t a coming of age movie turn that shit off, iss’ annoying.” Juza grumbled before shoving his head between his pillows and Banri swore the small wooden panel separating both of their beds was suddenly asking to be used as a murder weapon.

“Fuck off, Hyodo.”

‘Hey, our next performance is next week wanna come over??’

“You are gonna give them their tickets, right?”

“Of course I am, I ain’t some sort of asshole!” Settsu could swear every time Juza opened his mouth he lost 10 years of his lifespan.

“Ya’ sure about that?”

“Say it to my fuckin’ face, eh?”

‘Hey, I got some tickets for our next performance if you wanna come??’

“Is that better, dick head?” Banri shoved his phone at the purple haired boy causing him to swat his hand away.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Whatever-? You know what, choke on my dick.”

“Come on, I’ve sucked candy bigger than your dick, Settsu, I ain’t chokin’ on a pickle.”

He was surprised that you answered so quickly a short and simple ”Oh my god!!! Yes!!” that had sent his heart into super sonic speed. He guessed that, if Izumi was right and he did like you, that it made sense- and if he had to be honest, really had to be, you could say he didn’t mind the way his heart fluttered around his chest.

‘Come over early and I’ll give them to you’

“And they say chivalry is dead.” Juza grumbled into his pillow, earning a smack from Banri.

A week later and you were standing in front of the Mankai dorm waiting for him, you had to admit that- although sudden, the invite did make you quite happy, even if you both didn’t talk as often you still cared deeply about him.

While you stood outside waiting, however, inside the dorm Banri was getting one final pep talk from Izumi before he asked you out- or tried to at least.

“I get it! Izumi, stop nagging already,” blue eyes rolled as the older woman went over the plan.

“I am not nagging, Settsu! I am simply making sure you don’t screw up!” She shrieked, she was this close to setting you up with Juza out of spite.

“Look, I’m fine,” he assured her, “I’ll just tell ‘em how I feel and if they say yes then good and if they say no then whatever- it’s not like we won’t talk if I’m rejected.” Right?

“Hey, Neo delinquent, you shouldn’t leave your date waiting,” Yuki grumbled as he nodded over to the door, “Poor thing’s been there for half an hour, let it in already.”

“Yuki! Don’t talk about [Name] like they’re a dog!” Izumi scolds the middle schooler.

“Whatever, just worried they’re gonna catch a cold.” He shrugs before leaving the room, if you ended up sick you’d only have those two to blame.

“Okay, now go- go!” Izumi pushed the tall boy before running off to hide behind the wall, just in case.

Banri takes note of his sweaty hands and scolds himself; keep it together. He shakes his head and opens the door to find you waiting for him.

In the second it took you to process the opened door, Banri felt himself fall in love with you. After not seeing each other in person since the start of the new semester, it dawned on him how much he yearned to be with you.

“Banri, I missed you!” You throw your arms around your friend, you were excited— it had been weeks since you’d last seen him and you missed him, even if you two didn’t talk as much there was never a day you didn’t think of him in some way.

“[Name],” he ruffled your hair, his eyes softening as he looked at you, “I missed you too.”

“I’m so excited,” you pulled away from him, looking him straight in the eyes, “I was so worried I wouldn’t get tickets, I really wanted to see you act again!”

“Tch, ain’t you a fan?” He teases you, making way for you to come inside the dorms and you gladly do. It had been months since you last came, but it still looked and felt the same; he felt and looked the same, he looked smarter though, more mature and put together.

“You’re talking as if I wouldn’t come see my best friend.” You smile up at him and he feels his heart clench in his chest at your words.

As he leads you to the living room he wonders if he should actually tell you— unlike most things in his life, you were always there, no matter what he was doing you’d always stuck around him. Ever since you were young, Banri can’t remember a time where you weren’t there and, honestly, he didn’t want to.

His silence catches your attention and you decide to speak up; “So, how have things been?”

“Ah, good, they’ve been good,” he coughs, he felt stupid getting nervous over this- he should just get it out as fast as possible, “and you?”

“Things ‘ve been well, kinda weird without you around.” You admit awkwardly as you sit down on the couch.

He nods, a smile gracing his lips as he thinks about how to lead the conversation where he needs it to be. He remembers Izumi’s words and advice, he deserved closure and, maybe it was selfish of him but, he wanted a relationship with you too. He really, really wanted a relationship with you.

“[Name]?” He speaks out, his voice wavering slightly and if he could he’d beat himself up for it. Hearing the uncertainty behind his words you almost shoot up from your seat in worry.

“Yeah?”

“I- I know it’s sudden and,” he takes a deep breath, “it’s gonna sound weird but I, uh- realized somethin’.”

You nod confused, you were listening to him and you wanted him to continue; that’s the moment he realized he’d need to fold whatever pride he had left and throw it in the air if he wanted to know the truth.

“It’s very weird and if it makes you uncomfortable it’s okay! It’s just, I've heard about you goin’ out with someone and I wanted to know if-?”

“Oh! You mean Rin, right? No, don’t worry, he’s dating someone; we’re just friends!” You laugh as you explain.

“Oh, good.” Even with his, albeit limited compared to other members, acting experience he couldn’t quite hide the relief that washed over his face and body at the revelation.

“Why do you wanna know? Worried you’re gonna lose me?” You tease but the words he uttered next made you do a double take his way.

“Yeah, actually- funny you’d say that.” He sighs before looking around the room, “I didn’t invite you just for the tickets, [Name], I-I wanted to tell you something… I like you.”

You feel the blood rushing to your ears and spread through your cheeks, you were sure you were practically heating up the room just from your blushing alone.

“You like me?” You ask him, you were extremely flattered and the thought that a guy like Banri liked you was nice. You liked him, you’ve liked him for a pretty long time but were too afraid to say anything so for him to, after so many years, tell you he liked you was straight out of a shojo manga.

“Yeah, it’s okay if you feel weird, I just wanted to say it, ya’ know?” He avoids your eyes and you quickly piece together the rest. He’d been acting weird, all shy and nervous, his texts were kinda dry, and even when you did meet in the hallway he had been acting off… was it all because he liked you?

“Banri, I- wow, me too,” you stutter, fidgeting with your fingers slightly at his confused face, “I kinda like you too.”

“Ya’ do?” It was his turn to jump from his seat at your words, his heart knocking against his chest as if it were about to explode from the override of emotions he was feeling at your words.

“Yeah, it’s embarrassing,” you laugh, “but I’ve liked you for some time now, I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

His signature cocky smile is back on his face as soon as you say it and you wish you could take it back so he wouldn’t tease you, but would it really be Banri if he didn’t make fun of you even just a little bit.

“Shoulda’ known, no one can resist me.” He plopped himself next to you and you shove him slightly.

“Yeah, no one can resist you and your bowl cut.”

“You said it looked good!” He glares at you but you know he isn’t angry at all.

“Yeah when we were like 10?” You ruffle his hair, the soft strands gliding through your fingers and Banri is sure that if he had a tail it’d be wagging.

“Ya? Well why d’ya like me if I got a stupid bowl cut?” He grabs your hand and levels himself to look you in the eyes.

“Because you’re smart,” you lean closer and peck his lips, “and cute, even with that shitty hair.”

“You can’t insult me and compliment me like that! You're gonna give me whiplash, geez.” His eyes widen at your actions and he blushes a deep pink, and you do your best to memorize that look knowing it was rare.

“Ew, the NEO delinquent is flirting on our couch,” you both hear a whine from behind you two and you jump startled, “Now we’ve gotta clean it up.”

“We’d appreciate it if you kept the PDA minimal with the kids here, Settsu.” Sakyo glares at the young man, you could almost miss the soft smile as he watched his leader finally look like himself again.

“So, [Name], you two dating or what?” Izumi pokes her head out of her hiding spot, going straight to the point.

“Please, he probably didn’t even give ‘em the tickets.” Juza makes his way through the small crowd and into the kitchen area.

“Yes I did-“

“No you did not.” You correct him, causing the actor to blush even redder at your words.

“Told ya’.”

“Cut it off you guys!” The director scolded everyone in the room, too excited at the newly formed couple to care about much else, “Are you two dating?”

“I think we are.” You look at Banri who looked back at you, his scowling face softening until a smile broke out.

“We are.” He confirms, giving you a kiss on the cheeks with a smile and you feel light on your feet with excitement.

“I should start a match-making agency or something.” Izumi giggles at her comment, proud to finally have helped the young boy.

“With your dating life? Please.” Sakyo laughs at the younger woman.

#—🎀 a3!#a3!#a3 #act addict actors #a3 x reader #a3 banri #banri #a3 banri x reader #banri settsu #banri settsu x reader #banri x reader #—✒️ sora’s scripts #—📨 request #—💌 mysterious messenger!

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trentvandijk · 4 years

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Winter Break - DeleDier

Hello, here’s a little smutty/fluffy deledier ficlett I wrote today. Felt in the mood to write about my favorite boys set during this mini winter break so here you go, I hope you guys like it<3

“Fuck that feels so good” Dele moaned into the room. The bed creaking with every thrust, Eric’s hips moving in a fast and relentless pace, chasing their pleasure. Eric’s cock brushed up against his prostate repeatedly and it made Dele’s head go fuzzy, the feeling was fucking incredible.

He let Eric take complete control over him, he loved it when he got lost in his pleasure. He loved watching him, he loved feeling him inside him. Dele pulled Eric closer, his legs still wrapped around the blonde’s hips. Dele couldn’t help but arch into the feeling, throwing his head back against the pillow, unable to hold his moans back. The walls of Eric’s bedroom holding every conversation secret, creating a bubble from reality. When he was there, with Eric on his bed, in his arms, he felt the most like himself. Like everything in the world stopped and nothing else mattered but the two of them. He knew it sounded strange and he wouldn’t have been able to explain it had someone asked him, but Eric understood. They understood each other.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Del” Eric whispered in between rough thrusts and low moans. Dele never knew how to react when Eric complimented him, especially in bed. They never complimented each other like that normally, so he never felt prepared for it when it happened. Instead of answering Dele connected their lips in a passionate kiss, feeling himself edging closer and closer by the second.

Eric came first, shooting his load on Dele’s stomach and it didn’t take long for Dele to cum after that. Watching Eric climax was probably the most erotic thing he knew of. Eric went to the toilet and grabbed a wet towel to clean them both off. It was a routine by now and Dele knew every step of it.

He’d never known he’d been attracted to guys before Eric came into his life. It had taken a while for him to come to terms with it, and in a way he still was. However, it felt good being with Eric, kissing him, sleeping with him, it all just felt right. Eric had told him he’d been into guys after he’d broken up with Maria. It should’ve surprised him but it hadn’t, in a way he’d been relieved. He hadn’t known why until a months later though. Dele knew he had feelings for Eric, he wasn’t delusional, Eric made him feel things no one else had but...he wasn’t ready, not yet at least.

“Why you alway got to be so messy for” Dele said looking down at the mess painting his abs. White liquid dripping down his stomach.

“You like it when I’m messy, besides that’s half your mess”

“Give me that”

He took the towel and cleaned himself off, unable to keep himself from admiring at Eric’s naked back as he walked around the bedroom searching for clean underwear. He really was something else.

“I can feel you staring”

Dele looked away, feeling a slight blush rise up his cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself” He bit back with no ounce of malice in his tone.

“Says the man who was begging me to fuck him minutes ago”

Eric said with a smug smile, dropping on the empty spot next to Dele on the bed.

“Because I knew how much you wanted to fuck me”

“Is that right?”

Eric traced his thumb along Dele’s lower lip, causing Dele’s heart to race. He really was whipped for the guy. His eyes fluttering as Eric leaned in closer to him.

“Yeah”

“Yeah?”

Eric caught his lips with Dele’s and gave him the sweetest kiss he ever had and all he could do was hum against the other man’s lips. Dele’s hand’s found Eric’s face and neck pulling him closer. Eric smiled into the kiss probably because of his eagerness. Their legs tangled together underneath the bed sheets, Eric’s thigh pressed in between his own. They laid there for a good while just making out. The taste of Eric’s lips was one he was addicted to and he was convinced he would have kissed the man until the sun went up. Unfortunately Eric decided to break it apart and Dele found himself pouting at the lost contact.

“I was thinking…” Eric said into their space and Dele looked at him in curiosity. “I was thinking maybe, If you wanted to, get away for a bit just me and you”

“Get away?”

“Yeah, my parents wont be at the villa for a few weeks and you’ve never visited it so I thought maybe If you wanted to come even if it’s just for a few days you know”

Dele’s heart sank, Eric wanted him to go to Portugal with him for the break and show him his childhood home. He hadn’t expected the invitation and his mind stood still. Dele wanted to he really did but he couldn’t and whatever he’d say wouldn’t make up for him declining the offer.

“I can’t, I’m sorry Eric. I promised Ruby and Harry and the other lads we’d go to dubai. Our flight leaves tomorrow” Dele explained and he saw the man cringe at her name.

It was the first year they’d gotten a winter break and Dele had planned the trip to Dubai months before. He’d just assumed Eric would’ve done his own thing as well.

“Yeah I know it was a stupid idea, don’t worry about it”

“Eric…”

“Really Del, don’t worry about it”

He was pretending to be fine, trying to smile it off. Dele could see that he was disappointed and it broke his heart.

The idea popped into his mind. “Why don’t you come with us instead? To Dubai”

“It’s not really my scene”

“Oh come on, it’d be fun like old times and there are plenty of those fancy restaurants over there that you like” Dele said leaning on one elbow trying to convince Eric to come with. They hadn’t had a holiday together since Greece three years ago. He looked back to that trip often, the memories popping into his mind making him smile fondly. They’d been so young and dumb and oblivious to their feelings at that point, at least he’d been. The long night walks at the beach should’ve been a sign.

“I’ll even ask Ruby not to come” Dele blurted out, and he would, for Eric he would.

“I can’t let you do that Del” Eric looked at him. “I’m fucking her boyfriend, I can’t take away the one thing she’s probably looked forward to in months as well”

“I want you there, I want to spend time with you” Dele said feeling a bit helpless. Why did he have to be so stupid, why did he not think about spending time with Eric. Eric had thought about him but no he always had to be the one to disappoint.

“We’ll spend time when we get back”

“It’s not the same though” Dele said, he rested his cheek on Eric’s bare chest, his arm wrapping around Eric tightly. “I’m sorry Eric”

“Don’t be sorry, I should’ve asked earlier”

“Will you take me to Portugal this summer?”

“Yeah of course”

“We can watch the sunset and drive through the countryside and you can cook me the best food and we’ll get so out of shape José will throw the biggest fit when we get back” He said smiling and felt Eric chuckle at the scenario and he looked up at the other man.

“I’m serious Eric, I want to try to be better for us. I want to be with you” Dele said, maybe it had took this conversation for him to actually realise the only person he wanted to be with was Eric, but he knew it now, he was sure of it. “I don’t want to be scared anymore Eric, I don’t want to be scared” He said in a whisper between them. It was the most honest he’d been with Eric for months and with himself. “I love you”

“I love you too Del”

#my fics #deledier

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torialeysha · 5 years

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Birthday Boy Bob - Part. 2

Since the highly-anticipated, tantric meeting of flesh between you and your boss, Bob Saginowski, things had become much more than the one nighter you thought would end all too soon. Nights, and mornings spent together with he and Rocco, made you feel as if the inevitable pieces of your mundane life were finally beginning to settle in place. But, the haunting winter winds of Brooklyn may blow in a stale, scorned ghost to rattle the cage...

A/N: A couple of weeks ago, my good friend @anrm1 kindly indulged me and my request for a Bob Saginowski fic - which you can read here.

What my darling girl delivered, completely but unsurprisingly exceeded my expectations and I selfishly begged her for more. Another part - anything that would satisfy my cravings for her perfect portrayal of Bob. And to my utter delight she indulged me once more and not only granted my wish for another part but also generously invited me to have a piece of the action.

Thank you @anrm1 for allowing me to collaborate and continue your masterpiece. I had so much fun working with you on this and it’s an absolute honour and privilege to see my writing next to yours.

Without further ado, I present to you part two of Birthday Boy Bob.

Enjoy x

Scalding coffee held in one gloved hand, and the gentle squeeze of his masculine fingers laced through your other as the pair of you shivered and anxiously paced your way to the bar for morning open. The one-bedroom house you called a home was only two measly blocks, so you and Bob decided a few minutes of the breezy, winter air wouldn’t kill you. Bob had slept at your place last night, after much ruthless convincing on your part that Rocco would feel perfectly safe in your bed just as he did his own at Bob’s house. You had been carrying on together for months now as a couple, your heartfelt feelings for the man only begging to spring free. The more time you spent with Bob Saginowski, the more you realized there really was much more to him than being the strong, brutish type. The budding friendship you both had nurtured for the two-year span after he had hired you, instigated the initial admiring feelings for him. And since that fateful evening of Bob’s birthday, you had gathered much more reason to feel that way.

He was most talkative upon his bright and early alarm every morning. On the nights spent sleeping nose to nose, with Rocco’s paw padded on your cheek, you would routinely wake up to the sputtering sound of an aromatic pot of coffee downstairs. Rather than crawl tiredly from the confines of his warm bed to pour a cup, you’d quietly wait in hopes that he would come tip-toeing up the creaking stairs of his aged, family home to skootch back into his position of big spoon under the jersey sheets to encase you in his shirtless arms.

He felt most comfortable when he kept to the strict, daily routine he had mapped out for himself, so you made the proper adjustments to learn his ways. Laundry was done every other day, no dish was ever left in a dirty sink, and never sleep past 7 a.m. and miss Rocco’s first potty break of the day. There was nothing wrong with Bob and his obsessive tendencies, it just took a bit of getting used to seeing as you were spending so much one-on-one time together. But, he did make changes to welcome you into that routine. Like a surprise visit to your nightly shower here and there, even though he had already taken his at the scheduled time. Or, an occasional early close-up at the bar because he knew you were exhausted from assisting him in carrying the weight of book keeping, and stock shelving now that you were more than just his bartender. The long-anticipated touch of his lips to yours had been entirely worth the torturous wait, bringing much more satisfaction than just the one-night-stand you thought you needed.

“Hey uh, Saturday is Rocco’s comin’ home day. Well, it’s the day I found ‘em, you know. So, I thought maybe I’d do somethin’ special for him. Like take ‘em to uptown to one of those dog parks, and do some’a those other things he like so much. You got any ideas?” His breaths exhaled into a smoke-like cloud when the heat met the contrasting freeze of the morning hour.

“I could watch the bar if you wanted to take the day with him. I don’t mind”

“’Course not, Y/N. We want you to come wit’ us. We need our girl, ain’t that right Rocco? I thought about maybe closing the place for the day. It’s a special occasion ‘n all.”

Their girl.

We reached the dark, lonely bar and Bob backed you into the closed door while finagling loose the key inside the deep pocket of his winter coat. You squeezed inside first, rustling your body to try and shake loose the tensed, cold muscles. Flipping on each switch of the lights, and unzipping the layers of your outerwear, you giggled as Rocco danced about your feet knowing his chew toy was somewhere hidden inside your purse.

“I gotta run out later for a few things since that big Knicks game is tonight. You need anything while I’m out, Y/N?”

“Ahh. That’s tonight?” You moan. Unable to hide the disappointment in your slumped shoulders as you crouch down to dig through your purse for the pining pup’s toy.

The Nicks game meant that the bar would undoubtably be packed to the rafters with rowdy fans and depending on the end result, had the potential to destroy any hopes of closing on time. Which in turn meant less precious alone time with Bob. Rocco cocks his head to the side when your hand emerges empty from your purse.

“Don’t worry, boy. It must be in here somewhere.” You up-end your purse and with a vigorous shake, the clattering contents spill out on to the floor. Rocco wastes no time, kindly lending his cold wet nose to assist you in your search for his prized possession. Your fingers, along with Rocco’s detective nose filters through the junk that your purse had over time accumulated. Wallet, receipts, phone, keys, hair ties, lip-gloss, body spray. But no dog toy.

“Hmm. That’s strange...”

“What’s up?” Bobs towering form stands next to you, casting a shadow over your crouched form.

“I could have sworn I put Rocco’s toy in here.” You scan the objects laid in front of you once again with a fading optimism. Your certainty that you definitely remembered Rocco’s toy was re-enforced by the increasing pining of the pup as he nudged your purse with his cold, wet nose.

“Maybe it just fell out or summin’” Bob suggests

“Maybe... I’m gonna run back and check.”

“You sure?... You haven't gotta go to all that trouble. I can grab him a chew when I’m out later.”

You look down into the pleading eyes of your panting dog baby. Your heart fluttering as you remembered Bobs words from earlier. Their girl.

“But that one is his favourite. I can't have my boy suffering the wild, disorderly crowd we’re gonna pull tonight.” You knew it would take the sensitive Pits mind off the raucous racket of chanting and cheering if he had his cherished chew toy to gnaw on.

Making up your mind, you pull your house keys from the disorganised mass of items before stuffing the rest back into your purse in a hurried mess. With a quick affectionate rub to Rocco’s head, you rise from your crouched position to dump your purse on the bar top. Turning to bid both of your boys a quick farewell.

“I won’t be long.” You promise as your eyes meet Bobs. A striking look of pride, admiration... and something else filled his usually emotionless orbs as they burned into yours. Losing yourself in the heated gaze of your Boss and... Boyfriend? Lover? You weren’t sure. It was a conversation you had both been putting off. Knowing that Bob wouldn’t be into labelling whatever this was that was happening between you. But what you were sure of was it was more than what it was originally. More than what you had dreamed or imagined it ever could be. You were both each other's more and that was enough.

“Er...You sure you’re gonna be okay? You don’t want us to come wit’ you?” He asks. Linking his fingers with yours while an unnecessary worry caused a few prominent lines to grace his forehead.

“It’s a couple of blocks away. I’ll be fine. You stay here and get this place ready for the riot we’re going to endure later...” He gives a subtle nod of agreement.

“Don’t miss me too much, you two.” You joke. Moving to the door.

To your surprise Bob doesn’t let go of your hand and with an assertive tug, pulls you back into his arms. You’re greeted immediately with his plush lips catching yours in a soft, commanding kiss. You pull him closer until there was no space left. So close you could feel his heart against your chest beating an erratic rhythm that mirrored yours and betrayed the cool, calm exterior, he consistently exuded.

You pull away breathless. A four-letter word erupted involuntarily from your aching chest and got caught in your throat. “Bobby, I-” You were lost. The frightening depths of your feelings towards Bob were growing so intense it was almost painful. It was too much too soon. The unimpressed whining cry from Rocco breaks the moment and you’re thankful for the interruption. Swallowing the eager sentiment and saving it for another time.

Those heavy, life-changing words stammered off the cliff of your tongue along the journey back home. You couldn’t let the daft, most likely delusional, admission of that feeling of love ruin the overdue relationship you were developing with Bob. You knew there was no way a man as multifaceted as himself would fall into the illusion of love just a few months into the developing bond. And you weren’t completely convinced that Bob was entirely capable of accepting, or expressing the love of a woman. But, you knew he’d give his last-ditch efforts to try if it meant he could go to sleep at night with you soothingly scratching your nails over the tender skin along his back.

You hushed the one-sided conversing as you trudged the stairs towards your second-floor building on hunt for Rocco’s blessed chew toy. Ms. Peters from next door had already made her impressions of you known around the other tenants as a wretched, fornicating hussy who disturbed her all hours of the night trolloping with her strange male friend. There was no need to add manic, schizophrenic that talks to herself to the list of the woman’s judgmental arsenal of gossip. So, you smiled artificially at her on your way inside, holding your breath to avoid the fumes from her morning cigarette. You inhaled enough secondhand tar at the bar every night, so might as well save a breath where you could here and there.

Your keyring jangled around your fingers as you searched amongst the collection for the appropriate key to open the locked door of your designated apartment marked 251. You left the barricade standing open behind you as you marched to the beige couch where you had retrieved your purse in the rushed exit only half hour ago, assuming to find the red, dingy bone lying smooshed between the crumb-filled cushions. Upon a quick search beneath the sham of the love-seat, no avail in discovery, you flinched in fright as the slamming of the once opened door echoed over the drums of your ears.

The boisterous interruption inevitably caused distraction, and you right away turned your direction to investigate the cause behind the resounding crash. A chilly gust of sickening mortification settled over your chest upon the sight of a ghost from girlfriends past standing unwelcomed in your living room, latching carefully the double-bolt lock nailed to your doors frame. Only Nadia wasn’t a ghost. She wasn’t a haunting nightmare from your most heinous thoughts, or a horrifying hallucination of your disgusted distresses. She was a fleshy reminder that your worst fear had indeed reared its ugly head of malice once more.

“Looking for this, are you?” She pinched the sought-after bone between her dirt-lined nails, causing it to release a squeaking whine. The horn-like sound didn’t sound as chipper as it did when your sweet Rocco knocked it around the slick floor of the bar.

Grey, hollow shadow bags under her twitching eyes, and the way her words seemed to tumble like weighted rocks from her drawn, scab-lined mouth supported the suspicions around the neighborhood that she had fallen back into her drug induced, alternative reality. She wore a faded, damp hoodie that smelled like stale garbage, and stained blue jeans hung low on the malnourished bone of her hips.

“How… Nadia, what.. how are you here?” You seemed to chew on your thick saliva that clung to the roof of your mouth like stale bubblegum.

“You learn to pick a lock pretty early where I’m from, sweetheart. And, sweet, sweet, dumb Bob never noticed me followin’ behind him when he came here the other night. He led me right to you.” Plaque caked over her yellow-tinted fangs as she smiled callously.

You snaked a hand stealthily toward your rear pocket in efforts to grasp your cell, the only contact to escape this dangerous predicament. The hopeless realization that your only lifeline had been left behind at the bar where Bob cluelessly carried about with his opening checklist made the nervous bile in your belly simmer near release. Without weighing the potential consequence of a hasty reaction, you sprang up on your heels towards the bedroom where you knew a cracked window opened onto a rickety fire escape. You may break an ankle, or crack a rib from falling the two-stories to the front lawn, but you’d be freed from the scorned control of Nadia and her dope induced hostage situation. Before you could crank the knob of the unlatched entry, a cold, scuffed steel trembled against the center spot of your cranium, and the toxic clack of an engaging bullet dropping into a barrel paralyzed your escape. Nadia’s faltering grip on the pistol she doted and aimed tenaciously toward your head quivered with the tremor of whatever vice she had befriended assumingly in the wee morning hour. Your focus unintendedly latched onto the wiry friction of your hair chafing against the weapon.

“Now, now, Y/N. You had better think real hard about trying to take off me like that again, you conniving bitch.”

At the careless risk of exhibiting weakness and distress in being tangled in her kidnapping clutches, tears and sweat stung your eyes. You felt internally on fire like the pits of a sweltering steadfast hell, but when you wiped the liquid from your worry-lined forehead, your hands were clammy and pale with a damp chill. Her ill-disposed warning resonated somewhat, but the echoing ring in your ears drowned out most of the background noise.

You fall to your knees, succumbing to the impotent fear that has seized your body. Through tear filled, blurry vision you gaze with an anxious appetency at the freedom and safety which lurked within a teasingly unattainable reach, just beyond the fractured square of glass that was your only hope for escape. Nadia becomes visible in your peripheral vision. Your eyes follow her. Like a hungry shark she circles before coming to a stop in front of you. Her slight and withering frame obscures your view of the diverse, suburban neighbourhood and its oblivious residents. In silence you tread the treacherous current of the choppy waters, determining their dangerous depths while the predator stalks its prey. She bends, leaning her boney posterior on the ledge of the weathered windowsill. Her arm is raised with the pistol pointed precisely at the crown of your head. The dank material of her hoody hung in a swag from the stiff slenderness of her limb. The weakened state of her undernourished muscles sent a tremor down her arm and you felt the weight of the pistol wavering in her grasp as she tried to steady it against your forehead.

“Why don’t you put the gun down, Nadia?” It’s hard to get the words out as your throat tightens in terror. Her features remain impassive as she drags the muzzle of the gun down your profile. Thanks to the slick mixture of sweat and tears that moistened your face, the rigid steel, zig zagged effortlessly from your temple to your eye socket before curving around your cheekbone; trailing across the bridge of your nose and dipping into the hiding dimple of your cheek. It finishes its grueling journey between your lips. The metal rattling a chattering rhythm against your teeth, once again betraying Nadia's decreasing strength.

“I don’t understand what he sees in you.” She rasps. Resting the weight of the pistol on your bottom lip. You fight back the urge to retort, fully aware that you weren’t the one holding the gun. “I see the way he acts with you. The way he looks at you.” Her mouth twists in hostile resentment. An indignation so powerful it caused you to be on the receiving end of her revolver. The last time you had seen her was at the bar on Bobs birthday. You and every other member of the community assumed she had once again disappeared, only to now find out that she had been watching you from the shadows. A shudder wracks your body, causing Nadia to jump. In a swift movement the weapon is torn from your mouth and planted back on the invisible target she’s placed on your forehead. You gasp at the sudden movement, trying your best to stay stock-still and calm. A feat that was betrayed by the turbulent rise and fall of your chest, as your burning lungs expanded with harsh, panicked breaths.

“He used to look at me like that.” Her dark empty pools looked straight through you as she reminisced about the not so distant memory of when she when she was once Bob and Rocco's girl. Her face crumples in a tormented frown, causing a trail of tears to spill from her black orbs.

“You see, he’s forgotten that he loves me. It’s my own fault I suppose. I was gone too long. I thought he would have missed me. That when I returned, he would have welcomed me back with open arms... Then I saw you two together.”

“He did miss you, Nadia. He was broken when you left.” You have no idea why you’re telling her that. Maybe it was because of the weapon she yielded and poked so promisingly at you or maybe it was because it was the truth. You remembered how forlorn and lost Bob was when she went away. How you picked up for his slack behind the bar while he would wallow alone in his back office with Rocco. How some nights you wouldn’t get home until gone 3 in the morning because you stuck around trying to coax Bob from his woeful solitude, afraid that he might do something silly. Only wake up the next day and do it all again.

“But you were there to pick up the pieces?” It was said as a question but her snarling expression told you she didn’t want you to answer. “I should have known not to trust you. That as soon as my back was turned, you’d try and wheedle your way in.”

“Maybe, you need to come to terms with that fact that he doesn’t love you anymore.” It was a curt statement. A censored rendition of what you actually wanted to say.

“Oh? And why is that? Because he loves you now?” a scornful cackle rumbles past her chapped lips. “You think you’re the only one he’s screwed up against his bar?” One of the corners of her mouth turns up in to a sly, lopsided smile. her tongue emerging to toy smugly with her top lip, making you feel sick.

“The truth is Y/N, you don’t know him like I know him. He hasn’t done for you what he’s done for me. And that’s how I know that he loves me.”

Her insinuating smile and her unwavering certainty of Bobs feelings sends a bitter acid to bubble at the back of your throat. Your folded legs begin to tingle and throb. You shift your weight from side to side to try and alleviate the sharp pins and needles that were penetrating your fixed, numbing muscles.

“I think I know him pretty well actually.” Your brave whisper surprises her.

“No, no, no.” She shakes her head frantically. “You’ll never know him like I do. If you did then you would have run for the hills.” She nods as if trying to convince not only you but the other voices in her head. “He’ll remember how it was between us. But for that to happen he needs to forget about you. You need to disappear.” Her voice sounded almost remorseful. A condescending, pitying smirk controlled her gaunt features. “And I'll be the one to do it.” Her claw like hand flexes around the metal housing of the gun. “To prove how much, I love him.” she nods, making peace with what she has decided she has to do.

You still, eyes widening as Nadia reveals her true intentions. Your gut wrenches in panic. “Nadia, this is crazy. You’re not thinking straight...You need help.” You talk slowly and sympathizing as if addressing a child.

The coddle-like mockery resonated deep within the sensitive nerve of her psyche, and you reckoned it was the term ‘crazy’ that may have quickened the burning of her short fuse. Your defensive reflexes were no match for her livid release, and you had no last second chance to try and turn away, or shield a palm over your perfectly plump cheek before Nadia waylaid the side of your head with the unforgiving, stout plastic of the handgun. Weightless, and barely lingering in the realm of this nightmarish consciousness, the whip of her pistol pummeled you to land face-first into the aging, musty, less than pillowy carpet. A stark scarlet trickle of your own wound oozed from the temple of your gashed skull, and dripped off the ledge of your heart-shaped nose.

“Oh, I’m thinking perfectly straight, Y/N. Trust me on that one, sweetie. And it seems pretty clear to me I’m not the one who needs help here. But, do you see anyone around to help you? Is your Bob here to save you? I don’t think so.” She laid face-to-face with you on the floor, false pity lying in the crease of her brow. The stanch, acrid aroma of her rotting mouth warmed over your face, and the wind from her close proximity made your eyes water upon contact.

Was this worth it? Was Bob Saginowski truly someone you’d lose your life over? Could you let yourself endure the torture, and possible murder from such a putrid maniac like Nadia all for the sake of a slight possibility you may become more than whatever it was you were now? You punished yourself and those cruel questions by biting your own tongue to pinch blood loose. Of course, that confused, handsome, eclectic man and his perfect pup were worth it, and shame on you for every doubting it. Nadia sure thought so, and if her twisted, delirious, heart saw what a treasure he was, there was no way you’d turn him lose. Whether he’d put a title on the bond you’d established or not, Bob would lay in front of a train to protect you, and never question the decision.

Just as your subconscious had lulled you into the melancholy scenario that may end with you never being cradled in his capable arms again, you swore you could trace the jingling racket of what resembled a dog collar erratically prancing up the stairs just feet behind the amply locked door. You knew it wasn’t a project of your imagination, when Nadia instantly reacted to the sound of nearby feet, and the whimpering sniff of a concerned Rocco. The sticky film of her oily palm clasped over the unwavering chatter of your teeth. You felt the assembling of a desolate screech for help settling at the back of your tongue, but the suffocating mask of her hand killed the chances of your outcry, and your sentient state, as you dozed into the restful slumber of oblivion...

...To be continued.

#the drop #bob saginowski #bob saginowski fanfiction #bon saginowski imagine #tom hardy #the drop fanfiction #the drop imagine #the drop fanfic #bob saginowski fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #bob saginowski x reader

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 5 years

Text

Psycho Analysis: Patrick Bateman

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Patrick Bateman is one of the greatest villains in cinematic history… or is he? I do not say that as a rhetorical question, because at face value the protagonist of American Psycho is an amusing, entertaining, and charismatically monstrous individual who seemingly commits numerous atrocities throughout the film… but therein lies the rub. “Seemingly.”

You see, as the final third of the film reveals, Patrick Bateman may not actually be all there in the head. Shocking, I know, the guy who lectures hookers about Phil Collins might have a few screws loose. But the final third of the film paints a picture of a man who, while clearly sick and disturbed, may not actually be as evil as he seems. Or maybe he is.

Actor: Patrick Bateman is portrayed by Christian Bale, and as is the norm for the actor he extensively method acted, working out constantly and even maintaining the morning routine Bateman monologues about at the film’s start. Bale was told that taking this role would be career suicide, but thankfully he didn’t listen; there really is no better way to start a career than with a role like this. Bale’s performance lends a certain outward charm to Bateman, one that almost entirely masks the nature of who Bateman is, but not quite, leading to something of an uncanny valley effect that suits the role. There’s always something off about Bateman, even when he’s not really doing anything evil, and Bale sells it.

Motivation/Goals: Bateman doesn’t necessarily have a goal, per se, instead killing because he can, though at least one of his murders does have a motivation: Paul Allen is killed by Bateman for the heinous sleight of… having a fancier business card than he does. And getting a reservation at a fancy restaurant. And getting a business deal that no one seems to know the exact details of. Bateman really kills for no other reason than to please himself, and any and all reasonings for his crimes only exist inside his mind. If, of course, he actually committed any crimes at all.

Personality: One of the most obvious facets of Bateman’s personality is that he is incredibly narcissistic, a trait glaringly obvious in scenes such as when he has a threesome with the hookers, where in the midst of sex he seems to be enjoying looking in the mirror and flexing more than he does the actual sex he’s having. As Bateman was created as a satire of yuppies and the whole commercialistic greediness of the 80s, this is to be expected, but it’s interesting to note that his narcissism isn’t really anything that makes him stand out amongst his peers, as all of them are so entirely self-absorbed that even when Bateman is name dropping serial killers in conversation or outright admitting to crimes, the people he’s talking to don’t even notice or outright mishear him. It is worth noting that this narcissism is probably what leads into his one redeeming trait, which is that he never kills anyone who he knows to love him, including his gay coworker or his fiancee, neither of which are people he is even remotely fond of, with the former outright disgusting him. Of course, as I mentioned, he likely only allowed them to continue living because of their admiration of him and not out of any genuine kindness

Bateman mentions that his entire persona is carefully constructed, which is evident with his long-winded yet endlessly amusing ramblings about pop culture which he goes into before doing his various misdeeds. Bateman just has an entirely shallow, delusional idea of what it means to be human and have interests that he stands out to the audience, though not really to his peers, as they are just as vapid and shallow as he makes himself appear to be. Of course, as is much more evident in the book but which is still pretty clear here, Bateman hates everything about who he is, and finds the life he is in a sort of cruel irony, as while he despises everything about his life he cannot think of any way to escape it, and no one can stop him and murdering people brings no joy because his confessions are ignored, no one really cares to discover the truth, and even if they did the people of this world are ultimately so interchangeable (a running theme is that people mistake each other for other people all the time, misremembering names and faces to highlight how void of personality and completely interchangeable all these people are) that even when he does kill someone no one really notices anyway.

Of course, that is assuming Bateman is really a killer. As is made clear in both book and movie towards the end, Bateman may in fact actually be not all there, which seems a silly thing to say about someone who was presented as a serial killer for the rest of the narrative, but the third act of the film really casts his mental state into complete doubt. From the ATM telling him to feed it a cat to his ridiculously explosive shootout with the cops to his return to the scene of one of his more grisly crimes only to discover that there is nothing there at all and the rooms are being refurbished to be sold add a surreal layer to the film and cast all that we have seen in doubt. Perhaps everything prior is just the delusions of an extremely mentally ill man who uses murderous slasher fantasies to cope with his utterly banal Wall Street existence. Much like in the book, it is entirely up to the viewer’s personal opinion on what exactly happened.

Final Fate: Bateman suffers no comeuppance for any of the crimes he committed, even after confessing to them. In fact, in a final mind screw, his killing of Paul Allen might have been entirely imagined on his part, and so his confession to a lawyer is entirely laughed off, leaving Patrick to stew in his bitter resentment at everything he has done (or so he believes he has done) having been for nothing. “This confession has meant nothing,” as he states.

Best Scene: It’s really hard to say there’s any scene better than the blackly comedic scene in which he reviews Huey Lewis before taking an axe to Paul’s head. I suppose it helps that Paul is played by Jared Leto, and many people would like to see him suffer. And if you find yourself doubting how great this scene is, here are two familiar faces who may convince you of the scene’s greatness

Best Quote: Patrick’s numerous pop culture monologues are faithfully translated from the book, and while it’s hard to just pick one, obvious props need to go to his pseduo-intellectual blathering about Huey Lewis and the news in the aforementioned scene.

Final Thoughts & Score: Patrick Bateman is easily one of the most fascinating characters in all of fiction. It is nothing short of miraculous that he was translated so faithfully from book to screen, to the point where the numerous aspects of him that were toned down (he never murders a child in the film, and his little escapade with the tubing and the rat is mercifully omitted, for instance) are not much of a bother seeing as Patrick is still a massively entertaining and interesting satire at the upper class of the Reaganomics era. The fact that one can read his actions multiple ways and examine the character from so many angles, leading to entirely different viewing experiences between different people, makes Patrick Bateman the very first 10/10 villain. There’s just a lot of nuance and ambiguity to the character that makes rewatching the film infinitely rewarding, and toning him down a bit from the book definitely helps making it easier to revisti the movie than the (admittedly fantastic) book.

#Psycho Analysis #Patrick Bateman #American Psycho #Christian Bale #villain #review

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alitheamateur · 5 years

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Birthday Boy Bob- Pt. 2

A/N: This piece never truly intended to become a multi-part fic, but my how the tables have turned here! Part 2 is a glorious collab with the phenom that is @torialeysha and her wonderous talents! To put it in Hardy terms, she’s like the Ronnie to my Teddy, putting it mildly. Her writing inspires me to create, and makes me also want to bury my head in the sand because I’ll never carry the talent she has in one finger! I’ve been so excited to work with her, and I hope you all enjoy this little duet. Cheers, to many more!

Warnings: Language. Kidnapping. Drug abuse. Violence. Gun Violence.

Birthday Boy Bob- Pt. 2

He felt most comfortable when he kept to the strict, daily routine he had mapped out for himself, so you made the proper adjustments to learn his ways. Laundry was done every other day, no dish was ever left in a dirty sink, and it was pertinent you never sleep past 7 a.m. and miss Rocco’s first potty break of the day. There was nothing wrong with Bob and his obsessive tendencies, it just took a bit of getting used to seeing as you were spending so much one-on-one time together. But, he did make changes to welcome you into that routine. Like a surprise visit to your nightly shower here and there, even though he had already taken his at the scheduled time. Or, an occasional early close-up at the bar because he knew you were exhausted from assisting him in carrying the weight of book keeping, and stock shelving now that you were more than just his bartender. The long-anticipated touch of his lips to yours had been entirely worth the torturous wait, bringing much more satisfaction than just the one-night-stand you thought you needed.

“I could watch the bar if you wanted to take the day with him. I don’t mind”

“’Course not, Y/N. We want you to come wit’ us. We need our girl, ain’t that right Rocco? I thought about maybe closing the place for the day. It’s a special occasion ‘n all.”

Their girl.

“I gotta run out later for a few things since that big Knicks game is tonight. You need anything while I’m out, Y/N?”

“Ahh. That’s tonight?” You moan. Unable to hide the disappointment in your slumped shoulders as you crouch down to dig through your purse for the pining pup’s toy.

“Hmm. That’s strange...”

“What’s up?” Bobs towering form stands next to you, casting a shadow over your crouched form.

“Maybe it just fell out or summin’” Bob suggests

“Maybe... I’m gonna run back and check.”

“You sure?... You haven't gotta go to all that trouble. I can grab him a chew when I’m out later.”

You look down into the pleading eyes of your panting dog baby. Your heart fluttering as you remembered Bobs words from earlier. Their girl.

“But that one is his favorite. I can't have my boy suffering the wild, disorderly crowd we’re gonna pull tonight.” You knew it would take the sensitive Pits mind off the raucous racket of chanting and cheering if he had his cherished chew toy to gnaw on.

Making up your mind, you pull your house keys from the disorganized mass of items before stuffing the rest back into your purse in a hurried mess. With a quick affectionate rub to Rocco’s head, you rise from your crouched position to dump your purse on the bar top. Turning to bid both of your boys a quick farewell.

“It’s a couple of blocks away. I’ll be fine. You stay here and get this place ready for the riot we’re going to endure later...” He gives a subtle nod of agreement.

“Don’t miss me too much you two.” You joke, moving to the door.

To your surprise Bob doesn’t let go of your hand and with an assertive tug, pulls you back into his arms. You’re greeted immediately with his plush lips catching yours in a soft commanding kiss. You pull him closer until there was no space left. So close you could feel his heart against your chest beating an erratic rhythm that mirrored yours and betrayed the cool, calm exterior, he consistently exuded.

“How… Nadia, what.. how are you here?” You seemed to chew on your thick saliva that clung to the roof of your mouth like stale bubblegum.

“Now, now, Y/N. You had better think real hard about trying to take off me like that again, you conniving bitch.”

You fall to your knees, succumbing to the impotent fear that has seized your body. Through tear filled, blurry vision you gaze with an anxious appetency at the freedom and safety which lurked within a teasingly unattainable reach, just beyond the fractured square of glass that was your only hope for escape. Nadia becomes visible in your peripheral vision. Your eyes follow her. Like a hungry shark she circles before coming to a stop in front of you. Her slight and withering frame obscures your view of the diverse, suburban neighborhood and its oblivious residents. In silence you tread the treacherous current of the choppy waters, determining their dangerous depths while the predator stalks its prey. She bends, leaning her boney posterior on the ledge of the weathered windowsill. Her arm is raised with the pistol pointed precisely at the crown of your head. The dank material of her hoody hung in a swag from the stiff slenderness of her limb. The weakened state of her undernourished muscles sent a tremor down her arm and you felt the weight of the pistol wavering in her grasp as she tried to steady it against your forehead.

“Maybe, you need to come to terms with that fact that he doesn’t love you anymore.” It was a curt statement. A censored rendition of what you actually wanted to say.

“The truth is Y/N, you don’t know him like I know him. He hasn’t done for you what he’s done for me. And that’s how I know that he loves me.”

“I think I know him pretty well actually.” Your brave whisper surprises her.

To be continued....

TAGS: @eap1935

#thedrop #bob saginowski #tomhardy #tom hardy fanfiction #Tom Hardy #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #tomhardyfanfic

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serenagaywaterford · 5 years

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1) Hey, it's me again. The idiot rambling anon. I wasn't gonna spam you again, but then I read your responses. At this point, I'm convinced you're my alter ego, lol. My thoughts are all over the place, but I'll try to organize them. So, about Nick. I've purposely avoided talking about him so far, but why the hell not? Let me make one thing clear: I'm NOT of of those thirsty fangirls. But even if I was? I wouldn't get offended or butthurt, because another person likes different fictional

2) characters (of all things) than me. I mean, big fucking deal. Each to their own, no need for apologies. ;) (My tone is a little aggressive, I know, but I’m sick and tired of some people on social media –in and out of fandoms– acting holier-than-thou and sending hate messages and even actual death threats (!) to creators or people that express unpopular opinions*. It’s reached a point where many people feel the need to put disclaimers in their posts so as not to be attacked.)

3) Back to Nick. I liked him just fine back in early S1, when he was all mysterious and his background story was unknown to us. When we did learn about it and the fandom started acting like he’s that pure, handsome angel uwu? Nah. Obviously, he’s no Fred/Serena/Lydia,but he’s not a “cinnamon roll” either. (Imo, the only decent dude on that show is Luke.) I mean, if Nick was SO altruistic, he wouldn’t have joined this job. Or even after everything went down, he could have tried to help other

4) handmaids without expecting anything in return. But no, he only helps June and that’s because he’s in love with her. I’m not blaming him for trying to survive under such circumstances, but I won’t idolize him either. Now, in s2? I’m kinda neutral about him. I don’t hate him, but I can’t say that I’m a fan either. Not gonna lie, he bores me at times, because he’s just… there. No sparks, no fireworks. Not sure if it’s the writing that doesn’t do the actor any favors, but his acting hasn’t

5) really drawn me in yet. A counterexample to this? Aunt Lydia. Her personality is despicable 98% of the time and yet. Dowd’s captivating performance makes me want to know so much more about her character.) On the other hand, I’m glad that June has someone (besides Rita) to back her up in that hellhole. She needs comfort and allies. But the whole ‘tRu Love 5eva" fanon thing? No, thanks. Not only it doesn’t fit the tone of the series, but I also believe that sharing an intense, forbidden love/

6) during such a shitstorm is not the same thing as keeping it alive after all is said and done (post-Gilead). Maybe they’ll stay together (as long as Nick doesn’t die), maybe they’ll fall apart. I can’t really see June romantically reconnecting with Luke either. After everything she’s been through… She’s a completely different person now. Unfortunately, the same things goes for Emily and her wife. Even though I’d love to see her interact with both her wife and her child in S3.

———

My inbox is so beautiful right now! Never, ever call yourself an idiot, my friend. (If you are, then so am I!) Brain twins, you see.

(Also sorry about this being out of order lol.)

I was trying not to talk about him too cos generally I just … I prefer not to think about him much. The fangirls, just, *sigh*. I try to avoid as much as possible in this fandom, esp on tumblr. Just hang out in my quiet little, not-Serena-hating corner. I always feel a need to put disclaimers these days cos as much as I don’t really care about random hate, I’d prefer not to have to deal with dogpiles or to look at it lmao. Like people can go around just hating on any character here–especially if they’re women–but say one critical (not even hateful) thing about their male fav and things just go off.

I’m more than aware the majority of people don’t like Serena and think she’s the worst thing ever. And fair play! (I get it… cos I’m not delusional. She’s awful.) Each to their own. I don’t go around bitching at people who say shitty things or stuff I don’t agree with, or blocking anybody who doesn’t like her. (There are a few posts I do engage with cos normally they seem like they want to go deeper in The Discourse but most Serena/Lydia/Eden/Janine/June-hate I just ignore.)

ITA. S1 was, like, okay. That’s Nick. What’s he up to? What’s his deal? (I don’t really care but I’m not opposed to him either. Just like I didn’t care about Luke’s backstory/escape.) He’s trying to be good to June and she needs that.When we did learn his backstory I was not pleased cos he seemed like a twerp but whatevs. Grey characters are grey. It wasn’t until S2 that I started to get irked by him (and the hypocrisy of his fans but that’s a whole other issue).

I can’t agree ANY more with your assessment of Nick. Like that’s EXACTLY what I’ve been saying! Firstly, he was RIGHT THERE when the Handmaid/Ceremony thing was first suggested and was like “Oh, yeah, great idea!” to Fred. I get that perhaps he was pressured to go along to keep his job but that’s a stretch imo, and if you can give him that sort of leeway, why can’t characters like Eden, Serena, Lydia and June get the same benefit of the doubt for certain things? Why is Nick’s pressure to keep his job more important and forgivable than anybody else’s pressures? It’s like that entire scene doesn’t exist to fangirls and Nick is so precious and in love and wonderful. Then there’s the rape of June. Like I know it’s pretty controversial to look at it that way, but that first time, with Serena overseeing it like a fucking creepy pimp (YUUUUUUCCCKKKKK I HATE IT THANKS) was rape. June barely knew the guy and I’m pretty sure if she wanted to have sex with him it wouldn’t be like that! And sure, after that, it was totally consensual but that first time was not. And I’ve heard the justification and excuses of “Well, Nick didn’t have a choice either!” which I call bullshit on, cos Nick is not some powerless delivery boy.

He’s a fucking Guardian who is tight with the top Commanders. He’s a man, if nothing else. Serena can act all high and mighty but she’s still a woman in a highly misogynistic society. I’m not convinced Fred would take his wife’s word over Nick’s tbh, especially if it was like “Dude, your crazy wife asked me to fuck the Handmaid you’re obsessed with”. If he really didn’t want to do it that badly, he could have taken that chance to report Serena. Even if Fred wanted to keep it hush hush away from other Commanders, he would have gone after Serena. Men are far more likely to turn on women than each other, esp in THT. But that’s just my take. Maybe I am missing something about Nick’s status. To me, it was like double rape. Neither of them wanted to do it, like that anyway. But Nick also did fuck all to stop it when IMO he did have some power to do something. He is not a helpless victim in that society, imo. Again, probably not a well-received opinion.

Don’t even get me started on his “Poor me!” routine in S2 when June tells him to have sex with Eden. I’m glad she called him on that bullshit. (But again, over the fangirls heads. Enough about them!)

Basically, everything Nick has done wrong isn’t his choice; he’s just a victim. In a story about women, Nick’s victimhood at the hands of these nasty women and men is the real issue. Blah. Whatever.

I just find Nick lacks total self-awareness about being part of the shitty ass system. He kind of just floats around thinking nothing is his fault and he’s blameless for it all, and he certainly can’t seem to see it from anyone’s perspective except his own. He’s upset about Fred & June’s Jezebel trips, not for her own safety or well-being but mainly he’s jealous. Of course he’s concerned about her safety but I believe it takes a backseat to his jealousy. He just seems to never take any responsibility for anything.

And BINGO about the previous Handmaid. Nothing we’ve been shown has given any hint he cares about any other woman’s plight in Gilead other than June, and only cares about her cos he had a crush/fucked her/is in wuv wiv her. Basically, she’s HIS so suddenly he cares about her. Look how fast he dumped that Martha as soon as he got brooding about June. He’s done fuckall for anybody except himself and that alone makes me dislike him. He’s no better than Fred in that way for me. But where Fred can occasionally be an interesting villain, cos Fiennes is nasty good, I find the actor who plays Nick just… not engaging. And he’s not SUPPOSED to be a villain! He’s meant to be a good guy! It’s crazy. He’s not compelling, he’s not interesting. He’s bland. He’s not even good looking, lol. I was watching with a friend once and mention I thought Fred was way better looking than Nick and she just stared at me and said, “You shouldn’t say that. But me too.” So, count me in the camp that just does not get the appeal of the character OR the actor.

I don’t hate Nick generally. I am just totally indifferent to his existence. If he left the show tomorrow, I’d shrug and probably be a little glad I don’t have to see that bland moping anymore. If he stays, oh well. Shrug. And I just don’t want his and June’s star-crossed romance shoved down my throat. It’s so… I dunno. I’m not opposed to June finding solace and hope but making it some beautiful forbidden romance, I’m not buying it. Like you said, it’s all well and good in Gilead–but it doesn’t strike me as something that can be sustainable outside it. To borrow from you last time: It’s the Handmaid’s Tale, not The Guardian + the Handmaid’s Tale.

Okay, enough about that pipsqueak. I don’t even like talking about him, tbh. He’s not worth it when there’s so much else going on.

ITA about Luke/June too. I feel like the level of disconnection and trauma that they’ve sustained, especially June, they can try to reconnect but it’s pretty difficult and I think especially with June having a sexual/romantic relationship with Nick pulls that really tight. It’s just two different planets they live on now. I don’t doubt that she still loves Luke, but actually reforming the relationship they previously had seems like an impossible task considering everything both of them have been through. It’s sad, but … sadly true for many people. Relationships can fall apart for far less.

And on the same page about Emily/Sylvia too. She is just soooooo fucking broken, and hopeless, that if they have them just rekindle with no issues, it’ll be bad writing. (I dunno if you see spoilers but there’s one about them.) She needs therapy so much more than a cutesy feelgood storyline.

Back to Lydia: Exactly! There’s a character we know very little about and who is a horrible person, yet the performance by Dowd makes almost everyone go, “TELL ME MORE!” With Nick, it’s the opposite for me. I’m just like, “Please, less of this.”

#Anonymous #rants and raves

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prissyhalliwell · 6 years

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Summary: Mr. Gold has been working for the dinner theatre company “The Enchanted Forest” for years, performing the same boring show every weekend. Nothing has ever changed, until Belle French joins the cast to play its princess.

~ Winner of Best Mr. Gold in the 2016 TEA Awards ~ Read on AO3

Chapter One I Chapter Two I Chapter Three I Chapter Four I Chapter Five I Chapter Six I Chapter Seven I Chapter Eight I Chapter Nine I Chapter Ten I

Chapter Summary: An emergency during the show forces Belle and Gold to put their improvisation skills to the test.

Chapter Eleven

The kissing was driving him nuts.

Gold glared as Jefferson and Belle exchanged a kiss onstage, receiving cheers and whistles from the crowd.

It was a quick kiss, barely a peck on the lips. But that didn’t stop Gold from wanting to rip the other man’s head off.

The kiss wasn’t anything new. It had always been part of the show. As someone who had been acting for a long time, he knew it was just part of the scene. It didn’t necessarily mean anything.

Of course, Regina had met Robin that way, but that was an outlier. Just because Belle was smiling didn’t mean she had personally enjoyed that kiss anymore than all the others she’d exchanged with every other good-looking man in the cast.

Or at least, that’s what he reminded himself for the dozenth time, as he continued to glare daggers at Jefferson’s back.

It had only been the last couple weeks that it had started to bother him that Belle regularly kissed some of his coworkers. As the villain of the show, Gold knew he would never be on the receiving end of one of those kisses.

In fact, it was his death that led to the kiss each evening. After defeating him on the battlefield, the triumphant knight would meet the princess onstage, telling her of his success and proclaiming that it had all been done out of love for his kingdom and his princess.

The king would appear afterwards, congratulating the knight on his victory and giving his blessing for the two to marry. The princess and knight would exchange a kiss and the show would end, the cast gathering onstage a few minutes later for their curtain call.

It was all fairy straightforward, even if the timing leading up to it was a bit tricky. Once Gold’s character was defeated on the arena floor, the lights would drop and he, the knight, and the knight’s squire, Henry, would quickly exit through a tunnel that led backstage. While he and Henry would take the horses back to the stables, the knight would dash up the backstage stairs in order to make his appearance on the stage moments later.

The stable hands were waiting at the end of the tunnel, so Gold was always back by the time the kiss took place. In the past, he’d always taken those few minutes to relax before curtain call. But for some reason, he’d begun watching the end of the show recently, for reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely.

He pushed away the annoying voice in his head that told him exactly why he was upset. It also reminded him that if he wasn’t so stubborn, he could easily be kissing Belle offstage any time he wanted.

Gold grit his teeth and turned away from the stage. He knew he was being irrational, but it was getting harder and harder to listen to logic these days.

The truth was he wanted Belle. He wanted her so much it drove him half mad some days.

She had brought new energy into the theatre, breathing fresh life into his world. Her presence had made the same old routine exciting and fresh again. Playing opposite her was exhilarating.

Even offstage, he liked nothing better than her company. She was witty and clever and beautiful and…young. While he’d been aware of the age gap between them, it had taken seeing her yearbook photograph for it to truly sink in.

And sink in it had. It had lodged itself deep in his brain, wedged in among all the other insecurities he’d had for decades.

Despite what Belle and probably half the cast believed, he wasn’t ignorant of her interest in him. However, he also knew that any feelings she might have for him were based off an idealized version of himself that he could never measure up to.

He wasn’t young or adventurous. He tripped over his words more times than he could count, especially around Belle. The man she actually liked was the charismatic chancellor who had inspired her to act. He was just…Gold.

If they did get together, she’d see that soon enough. Milah had certainly wasted no time in moving on to greener pastures once she’d realized he wasn’t what she’d wanted. While he had no fear that Belle would cheat on him as Milah had, the eventual outcome would be no different. Belle would realize her mistake and she would leave him. If that happened, he knew he wouldn’t have the courage to continue working with her every day, knowing he hadn’t been enough for her.

No, it was better to keep things as they were. Belle’s infatuation would eventually wain and she’d find someone more worth her while.

As long as it wasn’t Jefferson, he thought grumpily. Gold could endure a lot, but even he had his limits.

“Speaking of,” he thought moodily as he saw Regina walking towards him, a familiar gleam in her eyes that set alarm bells off in his head.

He held his hands up. “Whatever it is you’ve come to taunt me about, I’m not in the mood.”

Regina pretended to look offended. “When have I ever…” She trailed off, unable to suppress a grin. “Oh alright, guilty as charged. But you can hardly blame me for trying to have a little fun.” She gestured to her very large belly. “There’s only so much trouble I can get up to right now.”

“Counting down the days?” Gold asked.

She groaned. “Feels more like years, but yes.” She nodded towards the stage. “Are they almost done?”

“Just a few more minutes,” he said, his attention once again drawn back to Belle.

Regina followed his gaze. Noticing her interest, Gold quickly dropped his eyes.

Seeing the smile on her face, he realized he hadn’t been fast enough.

“So, what’s going on with you and the princess these days?”

He cleared his throat. “Nothing. We’re just friends, as you well know.”

Regina let out a bark of laughter. “For a smart man, you can be incredibly stupid sometimes. If it was any more obvious how you feel about her, it would be tattooed on your forehead.” She pointed towards Belle. “And you’d have to be blind to miss the way she looks at you.”

He frowned. “Looks at me?”

“Oh come now, Gold. Even you’re not that dense.” Regina caught his eye and her smirk fell. “Oh god, you’re really that dense, aren’t you?”

He shook his head. “Sometimes I wish I were.”

She frowned, and Gold sighed, realizing he’d have to explain.

“You’ve know the type of person I am, Regina.” He gestured helplessly at himself. “How could I possibly be enough for her?”

Regina raised her eyebrows. “Gold, that girl worships you like the sun shines out your ass!”

He made an inarticulate growl. “That’s just it! She thinks I’m some sort of dashing knight who always sweeps in and saves the day.”

Regina snorted. “I don’t think she’s that delusional.” Her expression softened a moment later. “I don’t think Belle is under any illusions about you, Gold. She likes the real you, bumbling idiot that you are.” She gave his arm a quick squeeze. “Now you just have to see if you can accept yourself or not.”

He cleared his throat, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the entire conversation. “When did you get so wise?”

“Apparently it comes with being a mother.” Regina placed a protective hand on her stomach. “Or at least, I hope it does.”

“You’ll do great,” he said, his voice a bit thick. “You’ve always taken care of me, after all.”

Regina waved off his comment, but he could see how much it pleased her. “Well, you’re just an overgrown baby, so it’s not - “ She paused, clutching her stomach and wincing. “Speaking of babies…”

Gold’s eyes grew wide. “Is it coming? What should I do?” He racked his brain for any memory of what people in the movies did in this kind of situation. “Boiling water and towels, right?”

Regina just stared at him. “I’m fine, moron. I’m not due for another two weeks.” She gave him a level look. “But seriously, if I do go into labor, will you do me a favor?”

Gold nodded. “Anything.”

“Run in the opposite direction.”

The cue for the curtain call played, and he was saved from having to reply. He gratefully ran off, leaving Regina to berate his intelligence to herself.

The next few hours flew by, letting Gold push his conversation with Regina to the back of his mind. With two shows on Sundays, there was very little time between when the matinee’s audience left and the evening crowd arrived.

There was always the danger of running through the second show on autopilot, but Gold always tried to give it his best.

Even so, he was glad to be finished with the fight that night. As experienced as he was with the routine, it was still physically challenging to go through twice in one day.

He, Henry, and Robin had just stepped offstage and into the tunnel with the horses when their stage manager, Isaac, ran up to them in a panic.

“Regina’s in labor!” he hissed, careful to keep his voice down that close to the stands. “Her water broke backstage!”

Robin stood in shock for a moment before leaping into action. He tossed his sword to Henry and took off down the tunnel, going the opposite direction of the stage where he was due to appear at any moment.

“Wait!” Isaac cried helplessly, taking off after Robin, no doubt hoping to convince him to finish the final scene before going to his wife’s side.

Gold and Henry turned to stare at one other.

“How do you feel about playing a knight?” Gold asked.

Henry paled slightly, clutching the reins of Robin’s horse, Arrow. “I think I’d rather stick to the horses, if that’s alright.”

Gold sighed. He couldn’t really blame the kid. There wasn’t time to come up with any kind of plan. In less than a minute, Belle would be stuck on stage talking to herself.

He handed Ogre’s reins to Henry. “Looks like I’m about to make a miraculous recovery.”

Without waiting for a response, he raced down the tunnel and towards the stairs that would take him up to the stage.

He had some improvisation to do.

Reaching the entrance, he took a few deep breaths, not wanting to rush onstage out of breath. He still wasn’t exactly sure how they were going to pull this off, but he hoped Belle would be up for the challenge.

After all, wasn’t this what they had been asking for a chance to do?

In a moment of inspiration, he grabbed a cane off the wall and stumbled onto the stage, favoring one leg heavily as he dragged the other behind him, leaning on the cane for support.

Belle’s mouth fell open at the sight of him. After a moment’s pause, she rushed forward. “You’re alive?”

“Of course!” He looked out at the crowd, giving them a toothy grin. “It was only a flesh wound.”

That got a laugh out of the audience, as he had predicted. If he could keep them laughing, perhaps they wouldn’t notice or care that the end of the show made no sense whatsoever.

“Where is my brave knight?” Belle asked, still looking at him like he was completely insane.

“You mean, him?” Gold waved his hand dismissively at the field below. “He beat me in our sword fight, but I persevered in the end. My hidden dagger made quick work of him.”

“Your hidden dagger?”

“Yes, it is extremely efficient at getting the job done,” Gold said proudly. “And uh, very pointy.”

Belle’s mouth trembled, but she managed to keep a straight face. Her gaze flicked down to his trousers. “It’s amazing that you manage to conceal it so well.”

Before he could reply, she turned away. “However, that does not excuse your conduct here today. You have betrayed our kingdom. What possible excuse could you have for doing something so vile?”

He hesitated. What possible motivation could the chancellor have – apart from the obvious need for power – that the audience would believe? They needed to wrap up the scene so they could finish the show, but they couldn’t do that without giving the crowd some kind of resolution, perhaps even a happy ending, if possible.

At this point though, he wasn’t picky. He’d settle for any ending, as long as it worked.

He cleared his throat, letting his real anxiety show for the audience. “I didn’t do it for love of my kingdom, princess.”

She snorted. “That much is obvious.”

“But I did do it for love.”

Belle spun to look at him, actual surprise on her face. She didn’t know where he was going with this scene, not that he really knew too well either. He only hoped she’d catch on soon.

Otherwise, they were in real trouble.

“I did it for love of my princess.” He took a couple steps closer, drawing on his real feelings for her as he spoke.

Belle looked stunned. “For – for me?”

He nodded, walking up to her until they were only inches apart. “I couldn’t stand to see one of those worthless knights win your heart. I thought if I could offer you an empire to rule over, you might find me worthy enough.”

Belle’s smile was so brilliant, he almost couldn’t believe it was fake. “Silly chancellor. Don’t you know you’ve always been enough for me?”

“I - I have?” he stuttered.

She laughed softly, putting her hand in his and squeezing gently. “Yes. There’s never been anyone but - ”

Leopold burst onto the stage, brandishing his sword. “Stop right there, ruffian!’

Gold clutched at Belle’s hand, barely stopping himself from groaning at the interruption. They were so close to finishing the scene. If Leopold messed this up, he was going to kill him.

“Father,” Belle scolded, “put that thing away before you put someone’s eye out. Especially your own.” She smirked, no doubt remembering the practice where Leopold had nearly done just that.

“But daughter, this man is a traitor! He just attacked one of our knights.”

“Killed,” Gold corrected. “I killed one of your knights.”

Leopold gestured at him helplessly. “See?”

Belle rolled her eyes. Gold couldn’t tell if it was an act or if she was just as impatient as he was to finish the scene.

“Father, the Chancellor has united all of our enemies against us. He’s defeated our best knight and now has control of the city. I think a marriage between him and myself would be most prudent at this moment, don’t you?”

When Leopold looked at her in confusion, Belle hissed, “Give us your blessing!”

The audience laughed, prompting Leopold into action. He gave them the standard blessing he recited every show and held their joined hands up in the air for the crowd’s approval.

The crowd leapt to its feet, cheering and clapping louder than Gold could ever remember hearing. In all his years at the theatre, he didn’t think he’d ever seen such enthusiasm from the audience.

It wasn’t until the lights went down a short time later that he finally let himself relax, taking in a deep breath.

Belle sagged against him and they exchanged relieved looks.

“That was crazy,” she mouthed silently.

He smiled. “I know.’

Belle smiled tiredly before resting her head on his shoulder. He held her close, laying his head against hers.

Whatever fallout would come from their little performance, they would face it together, knowing they had tried their best.

The rest of the cast joined them onstage. As the lights came up, the audience began to shout and clap again, their excitement energizing Gold all over again. He looked at Belle who returned his smile with equal delight.

Perhaps they hadn’t done so bad, after all.

Author's Note: Shout out to @rumple-belle for suggesting dagger innuendos late last night when my brain broke.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumplestiltskin #belle french #Welcome to the Enchanted Forest #WTTEF

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careandafter · 4 years

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CARE - The Plan

It was 1946, a Friday night and she was 17 and getting ready to go to a school dance, so she asked her grown daughter to iron her dress because she could not do it from her hospital bed. In the alternative universe where people with brain damage live, logic does not always apply. When do you do battle with their delusions and when do you surrender and is there anything you can do to win the battle?

As heartbreaking as it was, many of the delusions both my parents had were funny. My Mom would repeatedly scold me for not answering my Grandfather’s questions. Her Father died before I was born, but to her he was sitting with us trying to have a discussion with his granddaughter, so I would have her repeat the question and I would talk to an empty space. I had to be careful not play along to well, this was not like an imaginary friend for a child where I too could make up parts of his conversation, she saw and hear him as clearly as she saw and hear me. When it is harmless I went along, I was not going to convince her in that moment that she was delusional due to a terminal brain tumor that she did not remember she had. We stopped telling her she early on what was happening to her, why keep telling a person who can’t remember, that they are dying. We simply said she was sick and we were taking care of her and she had nothing to worry about.

My Mom would get upset when she did not understand what was going on, so we came up with “The Plan”. The Plan was a few printed out pages in large enough font for either parent to read without their glasses, it simply spelled out what was going on around her. She was sick but there was nothing to worry about and she and Bill (Dad) were being taken care of, don’t worry. If you don’t understand something ask Bill. We had the weeks schedule listed. Who would be in the house with them, who would be visiting each day (Her Sister’s, Brother-in-laws, nieces and nephews and friends all had scheduled time slots though out the week). I would arrive on Wednesday nights after work (I lived and worked two hours south of them) and my Sister would arrive on Friday (two hours north) and we would stay until Sunday night. We stressed there was nothing to worry about, that we had everything covered and they were loved. The last pages of The Plan was a contact sheet with phone #’s of friends and family that they could call at any time. Everyone had a copy of the plan, everyone involved in her care. We were and are very lucky to have unbelievable neighbors who are more then neighbors and friends, they have become family, and they got a lot of strange calls for help and rescued us every time.

She kept those pages close, in the beginning we would remind her to read The Plan when she had a question that it answered. We wanted to reinforce the use of it for when we were not there to calm her, it worked. By the time the tumor took away too much of her to care about anything, those pages were well read, worn and creased many times.

That worked for Mom, but not for Dad. Mom was confused about her time line and what was happening around her. Dad knew exactly what was happening, he and I were traveling around the world because I was a government assassin taking out the bad guys.

My Dad’s delusions came in three categories; the two of us being a hit team, this is not his room and/or house and he had to go to work. The assassin part came from our shared love of reading mystery/thriller fiction and hours spent talking about the books we shared. To him I was a character straight out of a Tom Clancy or David Baldacci novel. We only had a problem with this reoccurring delusion twice. Once when I was trying to convince him it was night time and he should sleep, I opened the blinds to show him it was dark outside, and he responded that it is always this dark during the day in Oslo this time of year. How could I argue with that, he was right. The second time was when he was fully aware, not delusional, and was about to get a visit from a priest. He was very concerned that he might become delusional while giving confession and confess my wet work to the priest. He made me explain to the priest, who did not know me, that this might happen and I am not a professional killer.

This is not his room/house was pure hell. Sometimes he thought he was in his car in the living room and I needed to get him upstairs to bed. Other times he thought he was in someone else house and they wanted us to leave, or he was in a replica of his room that was downstairs and he wanted to go upstairs to the other room. When I told him he was already upstairs in bed, he would try to get out of bed himself. His body was dying on his paralyzed left faster then his right, any movement that caused even the slightest friction on that side caused tissue breakdown and bad wounds. For 20 years the right side of his body carried his left around. My Dad had always been strong, but that right side was solid muscle and he could work his way down to the end of the bed where the rails ended and try to get up. Those were sleepless nights for both of us and me stupidly trying to reason with him got us nowhere.

He had to go to work was also hell. But it was one morning after a night of keeping him still in the bed trying to convince him that it was not time for work yet and we needed to sleep, that I tried something that worked. He had been going on all night about needing to get to work to send out specialized transformers, he was an electrical engineer, to Germany. It was an emergency order and he needed to get all the paper work together and instruct the shipping guys and other engineers, all of whom he had been naming thought the night. I went to the other room and called my Sister at work. I explained what I needed her to do and she was, of course, on board, remember from an earlier post I told you that you needed a sister who went along with all your hair brained ideas, this is why. I went back to my Dad and told him we could not go to the office today but my sister was already in the office and she was going to handle it all, but he had to make a video to tell her what to do. We made the video and sent it, in about 10 minutes we got a video back. She was at her desk, a co-worker must have filmed her, she held up paperwork, told him she had talked to the shipping guy, who he had named in the video and she also used that names of engineers I had given her that he did not mention on his video. She outlined her calls with shipping and the engineers and assured him that all was taken care of and it was being shipped. He was so happy and relieved, he wanted to make another video to thank her and on that video I found out that I had a conference call with other engineers (now I was an assassin/engineer) later in the day to work on ratios. Just in case he did not snap out of this, I lined u friends to do a fake conference call about ratios.

He snapped out of it later after we both got some sleep and we talked about making a video now for his future self. A video with him explaining to himself what was going on and that he was sometimes delusional and he needed to believe and trust me. We made a couple different video’s for different situations. They worked, not all the time but most of the time. There were times after that before I could grab my phone and cast the video on his TV for him, he would stop and ask me if this was a delusion, I’d say yes and he’d say ok, tell me what’s real.

I did not use the videos all the time, only when he would get angry because I would not help him get out of bed or try to get out himself. One morning as I walked into his room he said “You’re limping, it’s that bullet you took in Italy, you need to get off that leg” and I knew we were going to have a fun day taking out the bad guys.

AFTER - My Plan

I need more structure in my daily routine. Waiting until the end of my day to write is not a good idea, especially when I am ending a bad day with a migraine and lots of anger. I need to get better at self care and better at asking for help.

I need to replace the barrel belt on the dryer, I know exactly what is wrong by the noise it is making and how to fix it because my Dad taught me stuff like that. I know what to order and all the steps needed to fix the problem, I have the tools that are needed. Fixing myself is not so straight forward, and I don’t think it is anything that can be easily taught. Identifying the actual cause of the problem can sometimes be the hardest part, we’ve all had the blues now and then, an off day, with no discernible reason why.

Facebook was just the fuse that ignited my anger yesterday. I think I am still mad at the world, I need to work some of that off at the gym, get back into a routine of actually using my membership.

This weekend I am going to take the time to create my own “The Plan”. Structure my week days better and start of list for more self care during the week and definitely on the weekend.

#Eldercare #Family Caregiver #Family Caregiving #hallucinations #delusional

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