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little-miss-understood · 2 years ago

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Dame Violette, Prologue

Welcome to the mother of all fix-it fics, something I've had planned for a long while but the disaster that is Season 5 of Miraculous Ladybug has proven to me is needed. This will probably be my definitive work and after it's completed I'm more than likely not going to write anything else for ML. But, this story is in me to be told and I want it out lol.

Anyways, enjoy!

They had lost.

There was no question about it, as Marinette stared up at the figure of Gabriel Agreste in front of her. He had successfully merged the Cat and Ladybug Miraculous, and now as a deranged god he was going to get his reality bending wish. It was the one thing he wanted out of this whole mess, after three years of terrorizing Paris, and she felt utterly despondent and sad in her failure.

His son and her partner, the love of her life, Adrien Agreste stood behind his father. The emotions crossing over his face at this turn of events seemed to be of relief that this was all over. That somehow, his father would come to his senses and that if Marinette could just be understanding, then this whole situation could resolve itself and-

“I wish to go back to when my wife was alive, for us all to be together again as a family!”

Marinette had no time to react. The world went white.

Hi, my name is Marinette! I'm just a normal girl who lives with her two baker parents in Paris. Nothing special about me, nope, nosiree.

Unless you count the weird psychic visions I get. I mean that has to be normal, right?

They're like “mental shocks”. To be honest I'm not really sure why they happen or how they come to me, or even if I'm the only one who gets them. They seem to be steering me in life. Hopefully away from bad things though I never know for sure. Like a shock I got when considering fashion as a career choice, which led to some weird visions of a blonde-haired woman yelling about how something wasn't exceptional and about a man who looked old and stern, how the world of fashion seemed very competitive and not easy to get to the top of, at least not without losing parts of yourself along the way. Because of that I figured maybe engineering would be a better bet, I seem to have a good knack for designing neat things, like diaries with unique locks. I still make clothes occasionally! But they're more for myself or my close friends.

Another shock came when the first class representative elections came up. I thought about running, but memories of a girl who seemed to be overrun with responsibilities for her classmates filled my mind, along with a figure who took advantage who looked very, very similar to Madame Bustier, my homeroom teacher. Because of that it led me to always sit at the back of the class rather than anywhere near the front, not wanting to be noticed. Someone else can take the burden of being leader. There are only two other people who knows about me having such thoughts...having met them both through shocks, I figured they'd understand it if I explained the whole thing outright. Considering how well read one of them is I had hoped maybe she could have had a rational explanation but she just laughed and said it was probably some kind of “gut magic”. The other simply said it was “Awesome”. I might have been offended but they also both wholeheartedly believed me. I don't know why a person believing in me feels so...important, but it does. Like I know my parents do but having someone else besides them is great. I have a small group of two best friends, and that's more than enough for me. Having too many would be spreading myself thin and my downtime is important; I hate being run off my feet. Plus quality is better over quantity, and both of these girls are quality without a doubt. We might as well be sisters now for how entangled our lives have become.

- In a schoolyard, a five-year old Marinette looks around anxiously. It's a brand-new school to her, what with the move her mama and papa had done to a new and larger bakery, and she had to leave behind the friends she made in the previous year. Her papa however had done what he always did, and set her up with a box of macarons for her first day. “Just be yourself, offer one to a classmate. You're going to be fine, my sweet.” But there was a sinking feeling in her stomach. Marinette was expecting something to come her way, something horrible. Something brash. But little did she know, that on the other side of Paris, a decision was made to send a blonde girl of similar age to a private school, along with a boy of a prominent fashion mogul. It was over the objections of her father, a councilman who was hoping to rise to the position of mayor. “It's out of the question, Andre!”, shouted the mother. “She needs to learn what it takes with the right kind of teachers! Besides, this might seal the deal between ourselves and the Agrestes for marriage!” So, one fate was avoided. It was at this point Marinette felt the mental shock. A view into another universe, one were the blonde terror came to the school and immediately started to berate her as low-class, that her macarons were tasteless, and screaming for a young bespectacled red-haired girl to follow her during recess. It was said girl that Marinette saw near the entrance of the school, looking just as lost. The vision of the other universe fresh in her head, she walked over and opened up the box her father had provided. “Hi, my name is Marinette! Would you like a macaron?” The girl seemed to hesitate for a moment, almost as if she was questioning Marinette's motives and if this was, in fact, real. But then she looked down into the box, back towards her, and smiled. “I'm...Sabrina. It's nice to meet you! Um, do you have any strawberry ones?”

- We were inseparable from that day forward, best friends forevermore. Where would I be without Sabrina? Probably some stuttering mess. We each seemed to calm different parts of ourselves; her stopping my anxious “spirals” before they even start, and me encouraging her to stand up for herself. There's a strong mutual respect and understanding between us both; she's smart in the areas I'm not, and in turn I make up where she may falter. While I'm thankful for a lot of the “shocks” and their guidance, that one in particular has a special place in my heart as it gave two souls support and friendship. And two we were, until five years later a shock gave us our “missing” sister.

Friendship Day. An annual scavenger hunt across all of Paris. Usually Sabrina and I don't participate, but a shock a few days ago convinced me to have us both take part this year. The celebrity we were supposed to try and find was Jagged Stone, and that's kind of cool, but at the same time we couldn't work together to try and do it. The rules of the day meant that a new “friend” would be assigned to us at random.

Which is a shame, because Sabrina and I probably could have made short work this whole thing.

My phone buzzed with the first clue, “With one turn of a handle, I can raise the level.” That was easy enough, the Canal Saint-Martin. That wasn't even very far away, maybe a few blocks. I thought back to what was shown to me in the shock while walking towards the canal lock. It was of a girl with black and purple hair and a boy with teal hair. Both of them had their backs turned, so I had no idea what they looked like, but...

...it seemed I was going to meet one of them today. The girl on the bridge looked almost the same as the one in my vision, though shorter somehow? But the hair was a dead giveaway, along with the fact that her clothing also seemed similar.

And that she had her back to me. I guess the best approach would be direct?

“Um, hello!”

That seemed to startle her more than anything, though she slowly turned around. Her face was covered by her hair, and her expression was one of fear. But we briefly locked eyes, and something in her seemed to calm right away. Enough for her to haltingly mumble something out. I barely caught it.

“Hello. I'm Juleka.”

In the end, it turned out she was more scared about searching for Jagged Stone than meeting me; apparently her mother had something against him and she didn't really want Juleka to take part, but was free to do so anyways. Though we kept following the clues, we both eventually gave up the hunt and started to talk more about our lives. It turned out we had a few similar interests, and by the end of the day when we met up with Sabrina I had grown used to Juleka's unique way of speaking French.

It took Sabrina more time to get there, though.

“I couldn't believe it Nettie, all she kept going on about was how “utterly ridiculous” I was! Everything from what I was wearing to if I couldn't get one of the clues right on the first try! I guess I drew the short straw on this whole thing.”

“It's alright Brina, you don't ever have to see her again at least.” I said, putting a supportive arm around her at the same time.

“I hope not. You know how I feel about bullies. But...” She turned her attention to the raven-haired girl sitting on the other side of me. “At least it looks like things were brighter on your end?”

“They were for sure! Juleka, this is Sabrina!”

Juleka's eyes darted up and down Sabrina, as if looking for some kind of hidden intention. After a moment, she breathed a small sigh of relief before letting out a mumble that was similar to what I had heard earlier in the day. Judging from the look on Sabrina's face, she hadn't quite caught what the other girl had said, so I served as a translator.

“She said it's nice to meet you.”

From then on, we were a trio. Three Musketeers, all for one and one for all. I wasn't sure how Juleka would influence us at first, it was only later I realized that her tastes ended up seeping into Sabrina and I unnoticed, enough that all of us were wearing darker clothing by the time we hit our teens, not to mention a nose piercing (for Sabrina) and hair dye (for myself, which more than surprised my parents the day I showed up at home from a sleepover with pink highlights in my black hair). But none of that was a bad thing, if anything we embraced it all. We understood Juleka when very few would bother trying; her accented French could come out sounding low or in mumbles to others, but we knew what she saying. Juleka could be as chaotic as her mother around the right people, and it seemed as though we were her people.

The three of us were together enough that a language was taking form among ourselves; an unholy mix of French, Scottish Gaelic, English, and some Mandarin. Every weekend a sleepover, either at my place, Juleka's houseboat or Sabrina's apartment. Sabrina had in fact been over more times than I could count, largely because her father, Roger, trusted my parents and knew she was in good hands. He worked long hours as a police officer but took a step back from front-line duties as Sabrina got older, not wanting to be in danger and leave Sabrina without a parent. It took Roger...longer to get used to both Juleka and Anarka, her mother, but in the end was won over by a weird shared taste in rock music. Sabrina had told me when he was younger that Roger upheld the law to the letter but had significantly mellowed out over the years, which was good as Anarka didn't exactly park her boat in entirely legal areas. Our first combined sleepover on the Liberty also caused him concern as the boat had ended up in another place entirely overnight, but seeing his daughter happy must have helped warm things over.

Not to mention my own parents helping in that respect, too. I dearly love my papa and my maman; both of them work so hard to keep the bakery running, which means long days and nights, but they always also find ways to make time for me. Occasionally I pitch in, there have even been periods when Sabrina has as well, and they get along with Roger and Anarka. They've even taken on Juleka's brother as a delivery driver!

Oh yes...Luka.

Houseboats aren't exactly meant to be stable. The swaying of the tides prevents that, same as if another boat comes along and tries to pull a smaller one into its wake.

Marinette gingerly took her steps onto the Liberty, the houseboat that belonged to the Couffaine family. It was her first time coming...aboard? She pondered what exactly to call it, as Juleka walked ahead of her. After coming over to her house a few times, the other girl decided that it was time to return the favour.

“And the Captain, my mathair, really wants to meet my new friends.”

This is how Marinette found herself aboard a boat for the first time. Feeling it bob up and down in the water wasn't helping things much, and the sudden sway in the river caused her footing to give way as she felt herself tumble backwards.

But someone caught her. She hadn't even realized someone was behind her, let alone able to catch her fall. But as she stared up into teal blue eyes, Marinette thought back to the boy in her vision from some time back. The boy who had teal hair and his back turned to her.

“Ah, thank you for catching me.”

“It's no trouble, living on a boat has its downsides. I've gotten used to the waves, they're as constant to me now as musical notes.”

That sounded familiar. It was if she had known him, but that couldn't have been possible, they had just met for the first time.

“So, what is your name? Mine is Luka.”

It had slightly caught her off guard, though Marinette should have known that question was coming. “Uh, my name is Mamamarinette!”

As Marinette dug her face into her sleeping bag to hide her shame, she just heard Luka give out a light chuckle.

“Hello, Ma-ma-marinette.”

I can admit to having a small crush on Luka. Love interests tend not to catch my attention until I've been friends with them for a while, something I've found out is being called demisexual. I'm content to let things build further and see where they go, and I think Luka has the same vibe. We haven't really done much aside from ice cream dates here and there. Besides, I only just turned fourteen. There's no need to rush anything, it's not like he's leaving any time soon. Anarka had come back to Paris so that Luka could attend a prestigious music school. Juleka was offered the same but she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do yet, so of course Sabrina and I jumped at the chance to have her in our class, though it did mean she had to go down a grade because of odd timing.

We were now getting ready to enter our third year of school together. It seemed as though we wouldn't be switching classes, even with the addition of some new people into the school; I didn't pay attention to any of that but Sabrina had found out that not only was the daughter of the Mayor going to be in our school this year, but also the son of some famous fashion designer. Ag...something. Agreste maybe? That name had sounded familiar.

It didn't matter; nothing would change my year too much. Nothing exciting would happen, nothing out of the ordinary. I'm happy being normal, I'm happy in my life, with my friends.

But as I travelled to school, before meeting up with Sabrina and Juleka, little did I know my life would change in a big way. All because I picked up a small butterfly brooch that was lying in a puddle of water. I didn't even notice it at first but a purple jewel caught my sight. Bending down to pick it up, a terrible shock came to me, one of the worst I've ever experienced.

A vision of a girl in a ladybug outfit, a boy in leather made to look like a cat. Some figure calling himself “Hawkmoth”. A box that seemed to be filled with random jewellery. A bunch of mysterious figures that were guarding over said box, but it was stolen from a Temple-

“Nettie!”

I looked down the street and saw Sabrina calling out to me, with Juleka standing next to her. I couldn't just leave the broach, it seemed far too precious for that. Besides, if it gave off such a strong mental vision, maybe that meant that I was supposed to have it? I could always give it up later, and maybe someone was out looking for a piece of lost jewellery. Stuffing it into my pocket, I ran down to meet my friends. After school was over, maybe then I could figure out what to do with it.

For now, my last year at Collège Françoise Dupont was about to begin.

#marinette dupain cheng #juleka couffaine #sabrina raincomprix #butterfly marinette #endgame lukanette

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shammah8 · 9 months ago

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🕊️🌺:

ENCOUNTERING THE DIVINE HEALER Jason and Mandy, friends of ours, and their five children have encountered the Divine Healer…in their own hearts! They had already learned how to allow Jesus the forgiver to wash out negative emotions in their hearts and to live in the fruit of the Spirit. Living in the peace of God is a lifestyle for the entire family. Now God began to open up a whole new realm of the miraculous for them.CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM Shiri’s Story It had been a fairly uneventful Sunday, considering. “Nothing like having four younger brothers,” Shiri, age 13, thought. “You don’t have to worry about quiet or boredom for sure.” She brushed a strand of her blonde hair off her forehead and looked around the playroom with all the toys, the chest of clothes for “dress up,” the Nerf gun, and the school supplies. But there was no school tomorrow because it was President’s Day.

Shiri and her brother, Levi, age 11, were bantering back and forth in playful good humor; however, things suddenly took a bad turn. Levi went from teasing to calling Shiri names. Brothers are like that. Levi didn’t mean anything by it, but it’s just so much fun to tease your sister. Shiri said, “He made me kinda mad, so we started wrestling! Suddenly Levi kicked his foot up into the air and accidently hit my hand really, really hard!” Whack! “I went on to bed even though it hurt a lot.”

“When I got up in the morning it was much worse. I started crying. It was all swollen and it hurt terribly when I tried to bend my hand. I went to find my mom!”

“Uh, oh! This one looks like it could be bad.” Shiri’s mom, Mandy, wrinkled her brow with concern and said, “I think we need the doctor to take a look at this!” She didn’t have to look up the number for the orthopedist; it was already on her phone! Mandy gave the doctor’s office a call and told them she was on the way with Shiri. Mandy herded Shiri and her brothers Davey, seven, and Justice, five, into the car and off they zoomed to the doctor’s office.

Mandy thought the thumb might be broken. The only way to evaluate whether it was a sprain or fracture was an x-ray. “I thought it was broken because of where Shiri said the pain was located. It was from the top of her wrist to her first thumb knuckle.” On the 30 minute drive to the orthopedist’s office, Mandy recalled how she yielded to Jesus the forgiver in her heart to release and receive forgiveness. Therefore, she reasoned, “If Jesus the forgiver within is alwaysavailable to forgive, maybe Jesus the healer is also present to heal! I wasn’t sure if that would work; it was more of a trial and error thing.”

So Mandy said, “Hey, let’s try this you guys! Why not apply what we learned so far about forgiveness and see if Jesus the healer will work, too!”

So Mandy, Shiri, and her brothers all agreed to give Jesus a try. They applied the same concept of releasing and receiving forgiveness. Shiri yielded to the Divine Healer in her, and everyone else let healing power from Jesus in them flow to Shiri. The pain began to subside. On a scale of one to ten, Shiri’s pain level had decreased from a ten to a four.

When they arrived at the doctor’s office, Mandy asked Shiri if she wanted to go in or go home and continue to pray. Based on the results Shiri was experiencing, she elected to go home and keep praying.

As soon as they were home, all the children gathered around Shiri and released Jesus the Healer in them to flow out to her while Shiri yielded to the healer in her. As they continued to yield, they evaluated the progress of healing from time to time. The pain continually decreased. While everyone was praying, Davey saw a vision in his spirit of God wrapping gauze around Shiri’s thumb and healing it.

Within a few hours, her pain level was all the way down to two; just a little bit of pain was left on her thumb, in between her bottom thumb knuckle and top of her wrist. Mandy says, “Shiri described it as a ‘dot,’ and I felt that was where the injury occurred.”

Shiri prayed again that evening, yielding to Jesus the healer and welcoming healing to flow. She testifies, “Later that night, I was in my room and I dropped down and prayed again. There was still a little pain left in part of my thumb. While I was praying, I suddenly saw (in the spirit) a flash of light touch my thumb in the specific area where I still had a little pain. Then the light began to spread out over my thumb and all the soreness left! At this point, I was completely healed.”

Mandy later commented, “I know it was the grace of God for my boys to sit and pray that long!”

And a little child shall lead them (Isaiah 11:6).🍀DR J CLARK

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anyagee · 1 year ago

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book asks! 3, 12, 17.

3. Top 5 10 Books

In no particular order other than I opened Goodreads and scrolled backwards

System Collapse - Martha Wells

All the President's Men - Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward

Siren Queen - Nghi Vo

The Salt Grows Heavy - Cassandra Khaw

The Archive Undying - Emma Mieko Candon

A Prayer for the Crown Shy - Becky Chambers

Some Desperate Glory - Emily Tesh

The Genesis of Misery - Neon Yang

Deathless Gods - PC Hodgell

A Desolation of Peace - Arkady Martine

12. Any books that disappointed you?

From Unseen Fire - Cass Morris

Another author I like had this on a list of historical fiction they liked. I was not impressed.

It felt like nothing had any consequences (oooh there's a secret magic potion that will let the enemy control one person! Will our secondary character have to fight off mind control? Will he have to try and save or kill his bestie when he accidentally gets mind controlled instead? No! The sister wove a magic scarf and it fixed everything instantly!) and it didn't really nail the “ancient times have different values/society but I also want you to like my Roman aristocrat family that owns slaves”

Like, I can be down for a book that goes “I put in magic and changed up the social structure a bit because I wanted a fun mystery in ancient psudo-Rome and didn't really want to get too into it”. There's a place for historical fiction that's “I want fancy dresses and no cell phones!” and a place for stuff that wants to really dig into the social and political consequences of being a person in a historical period. And this was…neither.

The Foxglove King - Hannah Whitten

Unfortunately, disappointing in a boring way. Standard mediocre fantasy romance that wasn't sexy or interesting enough for me. Read it because I got through it really quickly and I didn't have anything else in my bag to read that day. At least it went for the “it's fine if she wants to bang both romantic leads” option instead of a love triangle? Magic system wasn't as weird as it could have been for someone with a connection to the god of death who gets powers from poison. If you are setting up a love interest goes to the dark side and she gets to become the empress in the next book and there's fantasy Catholicism you got to get weird with it, come on man.

Big disclaimer on this next one: it's actually a good book, but the question was “what disappointed you”

Piranesi - Susanna Clark

It just… wasn't for me. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ I'm still not quite sure what about it I didn't like. I guess I went from "hmmm let's see where this goes" to "eehh well I might as well finish it" at the SPOILERS? bit where we find out about the real world. I've read and liked portal fantasy before so it's not that, but this just didn't click with me.

17. Did any books surprise you with how good they were?

All the President's Men - Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward

Rachael got the Watergate board game and we realized we didn't actually know that much about the actual history (I know what you're thinking, didn't you accidentally do enough history classes to get a a minor in it, yes but that was 20thC Europe and 13 years ago), so we started with watching the All the President's Men movie and it fucking spiraled from there.

I'm really excited that I have the time and attention span and energy to read actual history books again but, look, I can't recommend an extremely dense book on LBJ and the election of 1968 to most of you.

All the President's Men is surprisingly really fucking funny and you should read it. (Come with me on the journey of “oh wow absolutely not historically relevant now no why would you say that 🙃” and “why does this read like fanfic omg 🤣”)

Red Widow - Alma Katsu

Look, when a spy novel is published in 2021 by someone who used to work for the CIA you go into that going “oh no what bad takes do I need to be prepared to throw this book at the wall for”. (I read/watch lots of varying quality spy/action/thrillers so yea. Check out Kill James Bond for a good podcast.)

Really fun, absolutely had a character get introduced and I immediately went “ah if he doesn't get shot in a parking lot in the second act he's the bad guy” (spoiler: he was the bad guy) Like, great job of knowing your tropes and keeping it fun and entertaining. I have the sequel out from the library to read at the moment.

#books #asks

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thexwayward · 2 years ago

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𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕡𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤 '𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕥 𝕞𝕠𝕤𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕪 𝕓𝕦𝕕𝕕𝕪'𝕤 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟' 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕕𝕪𝕚𝕟' 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕙 𝕘𝕠𝕕, 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕡 𝕞𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙?

✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴

full name: cyrus nicolo aureliano petrelli

nicknames: cy, saint cy, admiral, etc.

age: 35

date of birth: jun. 11

zodiac: gemini

gender: male

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: bisexual

physical

hair color: dark brown

eye color: black

height: 6′1″

weight: 180 lbs

personality

morality: lawful evil

positive traits: charming, inquisitive, intelligent, attentive, strong-willed

negative traits: restless, easily bored, moody, fickle, short-tempered,

job: admiral stationed at Naval Air Base Key West

skills: adaptable, strong, combat trained, artillery trained.

family

parents: big tony and angelia petrelli

siblings: christopher petrelli, aurora petrelli

backstory and details - ＴＲＩＧＧＥＲＷＡＲＮＩＮＧ : war, murder, drugs, violence

✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴

born to anthony ‘big tony’ petrelli and his young wife angelina, cyrus was the heir to the petrelli name that no one could have accounted before. there were cousins, younger and older, all of whom never seemed to get doted on, quite so as cyrus was. he quickly became the golden child among the family.

the owner of a garbage and sanitization company contracted by the local municipality to take care of the city, their father wasn’t shy about bitching up a storm when shit started to go sideways. as good of a man as their father is, cyrus knew from an early age that he didn’t want to take the same course in life. he wanted to be different. better than everyone else.

always taught that nothing could hurt him unless he gave it license to, cyrus was rambunctious and foolhardy, always flooded with a charm and wit. paired with his keen instinct for outsmarting those his senior, he had a knack for mischief from the start.

fear is a fickle thing in the eyes of a kid who could do no wrong in his family, but a constant nagging was losing those he loved and cared about. more often than not it was a distant, almost irrelevant fear; one that had no place among conscious thought. then, he gained a new baby sister. after she came, he felt a need to step up and be there for her in a different way than their parents ever could. he wanted to be the trusted confidant, the one she came to for help before she went to their parents; the reliable brother that loved her fiercely and with everything he had in him. cyrus cared for aurora beyond all others; no one matters to him half as much as she does.

moving through years in elementary and middle school, cyrus was popular, charming, well known and well liked, but could tip attitude at the drop of the hat. the moment he was provoked, his wrath came out and found the object of his rage. that indignation, the anger within him, and the willingness to hit first and worry later landed him in and out of detention and even one instance of juvenile arrest.

his mother was more concerned about his bursts of anger than his father was; as far as he was concerned, it was just cyrus defending himself when people tried to push him down, but for the sake of his wife, he had a talk with cyrus. tone it down, kid. and don’t get caught. your mama worries too much, don’t make ya mama worry like that, alright? that’s my good boy.

he needed discipline and anger management, but faking it til he made it worked just as well as anything else could. cyrus commanded respect wherever he went; more often than not, it only took a harsh glance to knock people back in their place and keep his fists from getting bloody again.

once settled at the top of the school food chain, his studies soared, both academically and in elective ROTC programs. he didn’t care for the people in the program with him: young republicans in the making with bad hair cuts who joined up because their father never could, or pick-me girls who wanted to prove themselves more than they were, and the most regrettable of all: the weird anime kid who didn’t fit in anywhere else and would meow at people to get their attention. cyrus found comfort in the regiment of the program, content to take the trial run before he joined up for real.

high school couldn’t have been easier. he was popular as ever, a shining example of what one should be; respectful, protective, intelligent, and above all; engaging. everyone seemed to want him as a friend or a fuck, and cyrus saw nothing wrong with it.

on occasion, there was the odd idiot who would try his very thin patience. cyrus found it far too easy to fight dirty. he liked the snap of bone beneath his knuckles, or the squelch of sweat as a body hit the concrete beneath him. though chastised for his behavior and willingness to act out of line, there was always a friend on the side who could vouch for the self defense aspect of the fights. still, cyrus knew the behavior had to cease. collecting outlets for his anger, he took the advice of his ROTC teacher and started to write.

he wasn’t good at it, or particularly knowledgeable in the rules of prose, but writing was his therapy. it was the only sympathy he afforded himself to have, and soon the bookshelves in his bedrooms were heavily lined with journals filled cover to cover with simple-minded musings, thoughts, and reports of the days where he could barely tell sunrise from bedtime.

after high school graduation, cyrus decided he’d go the way of the navy. he wanted to make his parents and sister proud; a noble son that learned the noble art of war. leaving them all behind would hurt, but it would be worth it in the long run? who better to protect his family than a man with all the skills of a trained, combat killing machine?

cyrus signed up when he was 17 and shipped off to basic not long after. nothing shaped his fears for the future quite like the fall of the world trade center in 2001. watching live from a tv in the cafeteria in his senior year of high school; he could recall the tension in the air; everyone in that room knew the wars they spent so much time learning about were now outside their very windows.

he was sent to coronado, california and underwent SEALs training. working his way up in the ranks was easy, but beyond deployed was hard. after the start of the iraq war, cyrus was sent into active combat and shipped overseas to afghanistan.

cyrus was a part of four tours, all of which were active combat on the front lines. during his second tour, he was adopted into a special ops program under watch of the secretary of defense. under this new assignment, cyrus was one of an elite group that was in charge of covert assassinations and the traffic of narcotics in ration packs and the bodies of those killed in action.

when he carried out what was asked of him as an initiation, he did so quickly, cleanly, and concisely. after all he’d seen on the plane of war, the carnage came as second nature. it made sense to do it for the sake of the country. there was only one crime in war- and it was to lose.

by the time he returned to key west, he had seen too much on his tours, fought and killed and his rage was tripled tenfold. the brothers and sisters he cherished in the service had been lost, killed, or moved on. cyrus felt as if part of him was left out there, far from where he was in key west.

the first fourth of july home was a noted one in the petrelli family. at the first thundering echo of a firework detonating in the sky, cyrus ran and tackled his sister to the ground and covered their heads. It was a snap instinct, one that came with the echo of bombs overhead.

soon after, he was encouraged to see a therapist through his higher ups at the base. diagnosed with ptsd as many veterans are, the therapist had an almost sickeningly positive outlook on cyrus’s prognosis. it seemed he was one of the few she believed in to pull himself out of the binds of a mental illness.

after a few sessions, his therapist encouraged him to get a service animal. after signing up and getting his certifications for a service animal taken care of, he adopted a rottweiler puppy. he named him LOOMIS.

however, there is no one can fake a fantasy like a government liar. outwardly, cyrus was still charming, still personable, and most of all: still lethal. writing did precious little to staunch his emotions, but fighting did.

there was nothing out of the realm of possibility for cyrus and his tastes; sleeping around, drinking, partying, fighting, living the reckless life of a daredevil whenever given the chance. every risky behavior was lidocaine on a burn, a cool soothing menthol that eased the scald of emotions he’d rather not feel. binge after binge, everything started to blur together- no obligation, no feeling, nothing but the bed of a woman who would have him.

the first sign something was wrong came when the secretary of defense asked him in for an official briefing over his assignments. in an abandoned office building in staten island. cyrus kept a close look on the man, tracking him for days as he tracked the marks he was assigned to kill.

he uncovered the double cross before it happened. the secretary of defense and some advisors were looking for a strong record to shift blame onto when they were questioned. cyrus gathered every file and every piece of proof he, and they, had and lined them up, painting a clear picture.

he flipped the blackmail and demanded silence and compensation for his own, but the changes and advances had to take place gradually, for all of their sakes. he earned the title of admiral 5 years later and has been stationed in the Key since.

he has money, bundles and bundles of it stashed away, wealth and riches and power on the heels of a former secretary of defense. still, he keeps to himself, running drills and educating new members of the navy as they pass through and train to become airmen.

cyrus stands as the shining, sainted golden boy of his family. if they only knew how slanted his halo had become.

updates:

probably has to go to therapy again

wanted connections:

TBD - a brother in arms. someone that was on tours/in the same special ops unit as him during his time in iraq and afghanistan. a ride or die, someone he loves almost as much as his own sister.

TBD- a recruit he has under his wing. someone he watches out and vouches for.

verses

main!verse

mafia!verse (head of crime family)

stranger things!verse (jock - baseball player)

creature!verse (mesmer || a la lost girl)

#[ ;; cyrus (full bio) ]

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sheacouleecametoslay · 2 years ago

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Season 12 (2020)

Most rankings seem to put Season 11 towards the bottom and Season 12 towards the top, but I feel the exact opposite. Season 11 never had a dull moment, while Season 12 is nothing but dull moments. Especially the second half of it. This is blandest season (and cast) I've encountered so far, other than All-Stars 1 which barely even qualifies as a Drag Race season. The 90-minute runtime does not help either. The Werk Room portion of the episodes go on forever - all they talk about is the upcoming challenge, or their self-doubts, or the MANY, MANY mirror stories. This is easily the worst season of Untucked too – episodes 5 and 6 are the only ones worth watching. And once again, the guest judges appear on it every week. The giant shade button was wasted on this Untucked season. Season 12 really is “RuPaul's Best Friend Race”. Everyone gave supportive words to each other at one point or another. I'm not going to criticize the cast for being good people. But there's barely any drama or storylines. The only real storyline was Brita vs Aiden, which escalated into Aiden vs everyone. And honestly that rivalry was tiring by episode 6. You just know the producers wanted them to lip sync against each other. You could also include Widow's downward spiral as a storyline. And they tried to set up Nicky vs Gigi as rival fashion queens, but that went nowhere. And that's about it. The only other drama was from Widow and Jaida having attitude during the rehearsal of their respective premieres. And the Gigi vs Heidi tiff. I think the main reason why Season 12 is praised is because of the challenge performances. Almost everyone did well in both “Gay's Anatomy” and the Madonna Rusical, for instance. But I need more than just good challenge performances to fully enjoy a season. The Snatch Game was forgettable anyways, aside from Gigi and Jackie's performances. The Debate was a let down, but I get why Ru was pushing a political theme considering how important the 2020 election was to the drag community. I also don't like how they keep shoving the Ball to the beginning of the season. 36 runways in one episode was too much. But thankfully they skipped the late-season acting challenge. And the superfan Makeover was a nice moment; including the lip sync. Also, WTF was that cat mini-challenge? Oh, and apparently they didn't air the Reading mini-challenge because it was so bad. I will say the premiere was very hype. The first group was clearly the stronger one. “I'm That Bitch” might be the best girl group song they've done. Widow gave the best lip sync of the season. And the non-elimination felt justified. In past seasons, the first challenge was almost always a design challenge, unless it was All-Stars, so this was much more demanding. The split premiere fit the political theme of the season as well, as if they're competing political parties. I could do without the Fashion Show though, and the fake celebrities watching. The A-list celebrity guest judge was Nicki Minaj. She replaced Ru in the “Cover Girl” transition thing, and she was pretty harsh with Heidi. The editors also tried something new in the premiere where the producers interacted off-screen with the queens. The second group felt like a comedown though. I don't know why they did an odd number of cast members for a split premiere. I know Tamisha Iman and Kandy Muse were supposed to be on this season, but they were actually replaced. And then the producers had to erase Sh*rry P*e from the edit starting from episode 3, and DQ her from the finale. Her track record screamed favouritism. How did they let her talk for 17 MINUTES uninterrupted in that stand-up challenge? I've seen speculation that she would've won the season, but I don't think she was ever beating Jaida in a finale lip sync thankfully. Anyways, episode 3 starts off with some manufactured drama of the two groups coming together. Followed by Ru being a s**t-stirrer by making Widow and Jaida rank the other groups. Then an improv challenge that felt endless (“World's Worst”), where the winning team just did the same joke. Heidi winning would've been a much better storyline, since Jaida ranked her last that episode. Speaking of which, why were Sh*rry and Gigi winning everything for the first 7 episodes? They were even top 2 in their respective premieres. Also, Episode 3 aired on March 13, 2020, the same day a National Emergency was declared in the US. So maybe Drag Race was a comfort show to those stuck at home, adjusting to a "new normal", scared and uncertain about the outside world. It probably helps that this season didn't have a lot of negativity either. The restrictions only affected the reunion and the finale, because the show is filmed during the previous year. They did what they could given the circumstances, but Zoom call lip syncs ain't it. Oh yeah, Leslie Jones might be the best guest judges ever? Not only was she funny AF on the panel, but she went on Untucked and asked Aiden why she's sour and signed Widow's shoe. Vanjie's cameo on the Snatch Game episode (and that Untucked) was fun too.

Queens Ranking: 13. Sh*rry P*e Who? Didn't even notice she was there. 😂 12. Brita The inflated sense of self-importance. Brita mentioned New York City all the time. She was delusional; disagreeing with her placements, bragging about her improv skills, and saying “I am serving you looks every single time”. Aiden was right - Brita expected her NYC reputation to put her on top, but that's not how this works. Brita's confessionals had a mean vibe too. She wasn't throwing fun shade, it felt serious. She made condescending remarks about Aiden: “Aiden's like a lost little puppy”; “I don't want to babysit Aiden”; “Aiden isn't working hard enough” etc. And she borderline bullied Aiden to her face after the “World's Worst” challenge, and again on the episode 5 Untucked, and again on the red couch. Then she said “I love Aiden” after Aiden's elimination like what? Brita also thought Widow was milking her knee injury and cringed at Widow doing Ike/Tina. She called Rock M's outfit a “science fair project gone wrong”, as if hers was any better. And then she cried on her last Untucked for being in the bottom so much. In the competition: Brita had the worst track record. She flopped 4 challenges in a row. She had no idea what she was doing in the Ball challenge; all 3 of her looks missed the mark, and the judges didn't know it was a pineapple. She also overacted in “Gay's Anatomy”. She just laughed for every answer as Jennifer Holliday in Snatch Game. And she messed up the choreo in the Rusical. She was fierce in “I'm That Bitch” though (“cause they be givin' up and I ain't even done!”), but her lyrics didn't really say anything. As for Brita's runways, meh. Frozen was her best one. Spring and Buttons And Bows were a “no”. I actually enjoyed her lip sync performances though. 11. Jackie Cox Too dry and overly professional for me. And seemingly snobbish? She couldn't believe that Aiden didn't know Mae West (“call my lawyer”). She was confused by Vanjie's Julia Roberts joke. She gave people a hard time for being “unprepared” for Snatch Game. She insisted that Jaida volunteered to go last when she didn't (“roll that tape” indeed). She questioned why Aiden was safe, but later gave Aiden a reasonable explanation for why she's getting heat. She made an issue out of Widow not making connections, but had a heartfelt chat with Widow afterwards. Otherwise, Jackie mostly talked about her parents, LGBTQ+ discrimination in her culture, and Islamophobia. She even had that speech with guest judge AOC. I respect her for using Drag Race as a platform for these important issues, but I wish she had more un-serious moments I guess? She did occasionally throw shady jabs in the Werk Room though. In the competition: Jackie placed “high” in several challenges but never won. Her “I'm That Bitch” showed her identity, but it wasn't as memorable as the others. She was a natural talker in “World's Worst”. I thought she was the funniest in Snatch Game as Lisa Rinna – how she rambled on and threatened Heidi. Her genie concept in the advert was great (“For you!”) And in the stand-up routine, she told a personal story while keeping it funny. But Jackie struggled in the latter half. She was boring in the Rusical. She kept doing Canada jokes in the Debate. And her Makeover outfits were basic. She knew her time was up at the end too. Jackie was comedic lip sync-er, but “Kill the Lights” was cringe. My fave Jackie runways were her Frozen snowflake, her Michelle Visage look, the Purple People Eater, and the hijab. 10. Nicky Doll Nicky came in as a fashion queen that will “bring you glamour without breaking my hip”. While the producers spent the premiere pointing out her mispronunciations. But ultimately, Nicky got in her head - she felt defeated by the language barrier, and didn't think she could live up to everyone else's level because of it. She even named herself to go home in episode 5. She seemed crabby too? She was unhappy about her “World's Worst” role, she was annoyed by Jan's dissatisfaction over being safe, she was relieved to work solo for once, and she was bewildered by Aiden's favouritism. She also fought with Aiden on Untucked; and told Aiden she should be in the bottom over Jaida. Meanwhile, the judges read Nicky for not showing personality. She did joke around in the Werk Room – it just didn't materialize in the challenges. Her confessionals weren't bad though (like the popcorn one, saying “are you ready?” in French, etc). In the competition: Nicky was the fashion queen that bombed the performance challenges. Her “I'm That Bitch” verse was my least fave – the lyrics were generic and she didn't sell it on stage. In “World's Worst”, she didn't really add anything to the skit, and she cut Widow off. While in “Gay's Anatomy”, she thought she tried something different, but her baby character wasn't fun. Then it seemed like she gave up in her last lip sync. But yeah, Nicky served Parisian high fashion on the runway. My faves were her Fall look, her Sparkle look, and all 3 Ball looks. My least fave was her Spring look. 9. Gigi Goode Falls into the bland category for me. Gigi mostly talked about wanting to be on top (who doesn't?) Or being excited for a Fashion Show. Or updating us on her Ball outfit. Or just hyping herself up: “I'm not just good, I'm incredible”; “I see my drag going to the cover of Vogue. Period.”; “I think this means that I'm the queen bee of this season right?” Gigi also struck me as someone who cares about her image. She didn't really give reads; aside from comparing Crystal's singing to Kermit smoking pot. She was terrified of politics. She apologized for not knowing Patti LuPone. And she only got involved in drama once – when she told Heidi that she wasn't listening to the judges; a comment that Heidi found unnecessary – and she tried to smooth things over ASAP. She also later said “we've built a family and families fight and families get over it!” Sure. Otherwise, Gigi started showing vulnerability towards the end, when she cried over what to do in the stand-up challenge, and talked about repressing her self-doubts. She also came out as gender fluid on the show. And her mom making her outfits was so wholesome. In the competition: Gigi having 4 wins is excessive, especially 3 times in 4 episodes. They weren't undeserving wins, but there were other options: Jaida could've won the Ball, Jackie could've won Snatch Game, Jan could've won the Rusical. Gigi's Ball looks were polished but not that inventive. Her saucy robot in Snatch Game was funny but came off cocky. Her poses in the Rusical were compelling though. And her “I'm That Bitch” performance was fierce, even if I wasn't into the lyrics. I laughed when she read the audience members in her stand-up too. On the flip side, Gigi's stuck-up character in the advert didn't land. Her Debate was lacking (“why not”). Her Makeover outfits screamed safe. She was just a corpse in “World's Worst”. And her “turn it into comedy” bit in the “Starships” lip sync was cringe. Also, Gigi's runways were very well-constructed, but her style didn't excite me? The colonialism costume was a choice. My faves were the button outfit, her Black Wedding, the Daphne Blake one, and her pirate entrance. 8. Jan The blandest cast member of the blandest season. But still likeable enough. Jan was this positive, energetic Drag Race superfan who was excited to be there. There was even a complication of her chipper moments after she left. But Jan's confessionals didn't have much personality. The few Jan moments that stood out were: her being flabbergasted that Aiden didn't know her outfit was referee. When she talked about being a sports kid. When she assumed she'd win the Rusical because of her experience, resulting in the infamous face crack. And when she insisted that she was upset over Brita leaving, and not because of losing the Rusical. I call BS on that. I think Jan was moreso crushed that she didn't meet her own expectations. She later said “It's a good thing that Brita's gone because now I don't have to worry about her”, as if that was ever the issue. In the competition: Jan was highly ambitious, but I think this came off as desperation to impress the judges. The judges said she was doing too much. Jan sounded overeager in “You Don't Know Me”, but that attitude works well in a song. The point of the challenge was to introduce who you are, which she did. Her high energy was annoying in the “Droop” advert though, but I liked the Jan puns, and I understood her product better than Widow's or Gigi's. Otherwise, Jan was a solid actress in “World's Worst” and “Gay's Anatomy”. Her screaming at Sh*rry was funny in the latter. And her choreo was impressively smooth in the Rusical. Her Bernadette Peters in Snatch Game was forgettable though. As for Jan's runways, Buttons And Bows was amazing, and Black Wedding was my other fave. I enjoyed her in the lip sync too, even if it didn't match the song. 7. Dahlia Sin “I'm Dahlia Sin and I'm here to take your man”. I can definitely tell she's from the House of Aja. Dahlia was very chill in confessional, usually laughing at whatever she just said. She forgot to wear underwear in the premiere, she wanted to poke Rock M's butt, she “meh”-ed everyone out of drag, and she talked about her twin brother. Dahlia wasn't very chill during her exit, however, when she stormed off the stage without an exit line. She also had a problem with Crystal receiving encouragement on Untucked, and she was bitter that Crystal didn't lip sync. But Dahlia had the last laugh: she made cameos in the broccoli costume for the rest of the season! In the competition: Dahlia was a pretty obvious first boot. She just wasn't performing at the same level as the rest. Her girl group verse was the worst one across both premieres – her performance lacked conviction and Michelle exposed her lying in the lyrics. While in “World's Worst”, she hesitated and looked lost, playing this sensual-voiced broccoli that didn't land. Then she kept looking at the camera during the lip sync. Both of Dahlia's main stage runways looked unpolished too. Her best look was the Fall fashion show black fur. 6. Aiden Zhane I want to sympathize with Aiden. Brita borderline bullied her, and the cast tore her down, even when she did well, reaching a boiling point on the episode 5 Untucked. I'm glad she stood up for herself there. But I think Aiden was too standoffish and defensive: “I repeat I'm not a dancer”; “I guess I'm gonna have to be, aren't I?”; “well I'm not just going down there with my face painted, naked”; “when I did ask for my lines, I only asked once”; “I don't think so, I know so”. She tried to brush off their opinions, but I think they affected her. Like Leslie Jones pointed out, Aiden had this sour demeanour. She had to fight the perception she's the weakest. She felt disadvantaged for not coming from a big city. She got exposed in the premiere for calling herself an actress. And she finished her Ball outfit super early, which upset some people. That said, the only real storyline of the season revolved around Aiden so... In the competition: Aiden's “You Don't Know Me” verse gave us an idea of who she is. And she had that Mae West voice in “Gay's Anatomy”. She sold it with her facial expressions in those two challenges. But she looked unsure during “World's Worst”. While in Snatch Game, it was like she had no idea how to answer the questions as Patricia Quinn, someone she knew personally! She also gave up in the lip sync. I wasn't a fan of Aiden's simple outfits either - her Spring look, her Buttons And Bows, her Frozen one, and all 3 of her Ball looks. The referee outfit did need more time on it. Her Tulle runway was her best. Her face was what made her drag unique. 5. Widow Von'Du I'm not sure how to process the assault charges. But Widow had a presence to her during her introduction (“get into AAAAOOOOOOOOLLL of this”). In the premiere, she was voluntold to lead the choreo... until Brita and Jackie overstepped (insert deep sigh confessional). Then she gave up and gave attitude (insert “go ahead go ahead” confessional). Then they said she wasn't taking charge on Untucked. Lol. But yeah, Widow was enjoying herself so much in confessional: “I enjoy when bitches tell me what their weaknesses are”; “MF Sh*rry P*e that's my role”; “you can just taste the fakeness in the air”; “apolo-lie”; “...and now i'm laying eggs in you bitch”. She was devilish in the Rusical episode too (“Jackie, karma's a bitch ain't it”; “I got my first choice”; “well guess what bitch I'm a dancer”). But Widow was moody when she didn't get the “Gay's Anatomy” role she wanted. She was upset over Jackie's preparedness comments, and responded vindictively. And she self-destructed midseason, all because Ru pointed out she hadn't won lately. The inner saboteur took over! I think Widow felt pressured to impress Chaka Khan too. In her last episode, she got frustrated at the judges, and didn't know what they wanted. Otherwise, Widow shared stories of her mom's passing, her abusive relationships and getting kicked out. In the competition: Widow annihilated everyone in the premiere, between her side splits in “I'm That Bitch”, and her multitude of moves in the “Starships” lip sync. She then carried her disastrous team in “World's Worst” (“and this is barbecue sauce”). And she delivered personality in “Gay's Anatomy”. Her Tina and Ike in Snatch Game was whatever, but she had the cake joke. And she was great in the Rusical, just overshadowed. But Widow fell apart midseason. Her advert came off lifeless. Then the judges didn't understand her angry politician in the Debate. Maybe she played it too serious, but she was funnier than Gigi or Jackie. That said, I was disappointed by Widow's runways. Her Buttons And Bows clown, her Cape, her Frozen life-preserver, and especially her Michelle Visage look were a “no”. She was one of my least faves in the Ball too. I appreciated her Stars and Stripes message though. 4. Rock M. Sakura “Is it cultural appropriation? We'll find out”; “this song is dumb, I wanna do it like this and dress like a hot dog”; “feeling that steam [...] like some sort of hot pocket”; “you just walk down the runway and scream: high fashion”; “I want that apple!”. Rock M's high energy OTT personality was entertaining to me. She was so extra during her entrance. She loudly duct taped herself in the Werk Room. She flailed her arms in confessional. But I think this was her anxiety acting out. She explained how she uses humour to mask her insecurities. But I don't think Rock M was emotionally ready for Drag Race. She told Ru that she needed the girls for support. She had that emotional story about her mom's drug addiction. She meekly asked for that apple role. I'd love to see her growth on a future All-Stars though. In the competition: I enjoyed Rock M's “You Don't Know Me” verse. She gave us a character (the fart joke didn't bother me), but I can see how her performance came off intrusive. While in “World's Worst”, she told this joke that wasn't a joke at all... and that was the joke. I was more intrigued by Rock M's looks though. The anime outfit she drew herself was impressive. Her tulle runway was bold (I disagreed with Ross on that one). As was her Buttons And Bows. So it was surprising to see her bomb the Ball challenge. The tether ball was a gag (which is why I didn't put her bottom 2), but her second look had misshapen hip pads, and her third one just looked like garbage scraps. Then she couldn't get the skirt off during the lip sync... 3. Crystal Methyd Despite the quieter edit, and not being involved in any drama, and only having a few memorable confessionals - “I'm a little devil that likes to raise hell in Bible Belt”; “Own it baby! My husband is Harry Hamilton or something”; “I'm not too impressed that Gigi was able to make a pretty girl into a pretty girl”; “Jackie is meeping?” - there's just something about Crystal. She's so genuine and humble with a positive attitude. She was the underdog dark horse too. It seemed like Crystal was going to be an early boot. She cried in front of the judges in episode 3, and she couldn't get past her self-doubt at one point. But once she realized what worked for her, she was unstoppable. Such a good growth story. Crystal was living for the other girls during challenges too. She had a One Direction tattoo in Arabic, a language she doesn't even speak. Ru was obsessed with her mullet (cue “Rhythm of the Night”). And she talked about her conservative parents and her father's Parkinson's. In the competition: Crystal had a rough start, messing up her line in “World's Worst” and blanking on the questions, as well as her Buttons And Bows runway. The fork bit in “Gay's Anatomy” didn't land either. And the judges didn't get her Poppy impression in Snatch Game (but at least she tried unlike Brita or Aiden). Her “I'm That Bitch” verse was kinda bad, but that's why I like it (“I'll have you all screaming Crystal Methyd!”) Then Crystal slayed the second half. Her wacky comedy carried her through the Rusical (the echos; the checking of her pulse), the advert (magic mullet!), the Debate (another mullet joke!), and of course the fitness instructor. Crystal had the most interesting runways too. Her style was ugliness turned into beauty. That's exactly how I'd describe her Makeover. Her Freddy Krueger look, her Black Wedding, and her purple look were all amazing too. I also like her Capes and final 5 blue. 2. Jaida Essence Hall “Chile I'm not finna be this damn orange no”; “this is not RuPaul's excuse race”; “Antarctica's at the bottom ain't it?”; “If a robot and a Barbie and a cheerleader had an orgy...”; “dinosaur doctor”; “nobody wants the butt slice of bread”; “keep your ass right and your mind will follow”; “who is Rose Nylund?”. Yeah... Jaida's my fave winner since Bob. She was so fun in the Makeover episode too: “Let me see, run your split Jackie”; “Mic drop. Bow. Boom. Cat. Cow.”; “baby you gonna get rid of that pinky toe”. Plus there's her ball jokes in the Ball episode. Jaida came in calling herself a classy, boujee female impersonator. She was wise and didn't have time for other people's BS. She started off the season by giving attitude in rehearsal, because she wanted simpler choreo that she wouldn't mess up, and no one listened to her. She called this a “slight disagreement” next episode lol. Then she refused to give Rock M the role she wanted. She got heated at Aiden interrupting her. She schooled Aiden on making excuses. And she clarified to Jackie that she didn't have a say in going last. But Jaida also gave supportive words to Rock M. Same with Jackie about her mom. And she told Widow to get out of her head. She didn't get emotional until the end, first with her Makeover partner, then in front of Whoopi. In the competition: Jaida's only bad performance was her pee story in the stand-up, imo. Just dead air from the audience there. She was “middle of the pack” a few times, like her confrontational apple in “World's Worst”, or her Cardi B in Snatch Game, or when she struggled to say “Diver-dick-ulitius” in “Gay's Anatomy”. But all those performances were good enough. And when Jaida was on top, she slayed. Her “You Don't Know Me” verse made a confident statement (plus the booty slap!) She arguably had the best look in all 3 Ball categories. She sold sexiness in the Rusical. No one came close to her in the Debate (“LOOK OVER THERE”). No one stood a chance against her in a lip sync. And her Makeover looked opulent. My other fave Jaida runways were Tulle, Frozen, Michelle Visage, Stars And Stripes, and the purple one. 1. Heidi N Closet Whether Heidi was getting phrases wrong: “Leprosy print”; “like watching the walls dry”; “right up my avenue”; “as a political politician”; “hepiphany”; “the initialation”. Or simply joking around: “ARR MATEY”; “overall she delivered – literally because she was pregnant”; “maybe she's not the trade of the season – what if I'm the trade of the season?”; “Gigi? Cocky? I would've never guessed”; “and that was the right numbers of fingers honey”. Heidi charmed the viewers in such a cute and harmless way. She laughs with us, and at herself, and doesn't take things too seriously. In the premiere, Heidi had the trill entrance, she pushed through an allergic reaction, she made chicken noises in front of the judges, she exclaimed “I'll never eat kale again!”, and she confronted Nicki Minaj on Untucked. That critique made her so mad. Heidi would also banter with Ru during her walkthroughs, and oftentimes stole Ru's ideas. Ru hated her name too lol. Heidi also had her emotional moments: She seemed irritated during the Rusical Untucked. She felt insulted by Gigi saying she hadn't improved her make-up. And she yelled “f**k you” at everyone on Untucked to leave Aiden alone, which was iconic. But Heidi was there for Widow. She had the uncle passing from HIV story. And she proved Jaida wrong for ranking her last. In the competition: I'm declaring Heidi the Lip Sync Assassin of Season 12. She had funny and entertaining moves in each one until she faced Jaida. She was also bottom 2 in challenges where nearly everyone did well - “Gay's Anatomy” (that fork bit did not land) and the Rusical (for not emulating Madonna, but her moves were still impressive). That said, Heidi's Makeover outfits were basic, and her stand-up routine was messy. Still, she should've won “World's Worst”. And she had the Widow's shoe joke in Snatch Game, the “tears of a drag queen” in the advert, and Jackie's 5 O'clock shadow jab in the Debate. I thought she was one of the best in “I'm That Bitch” too. But Heidi's runways were kinda mediocre. My faves were her Fashion Show looks, even if the headpiece fell off. Her Ball looks weren't the best, but not the worst either. Favourite entrance look: Gigi Goode (night 1) / Rock M. Sakura (night 2) Challenge ranking: 1. “I'm That Bitch” (Girl Group #1) 2. Madonna: The Unauthorized Rusical 3. “Droop” Adverts 4. “You Don't Know Me” (Girl Group #2) 5. “One-Queen Show” (Stand-up) 6. The Ball Ball 7. Snatch Game 8. “Gay's Anatomy” (Acting) 9. “Viva Drag Vegas” 10. Superfan Makeover 11. Presidential debate 12. “World's Worst” (Improv) (this challenge felt endless) Lip Sync ranking: 1. Gigi Goode vs Widow Von'Du ("Starships") (Widow kept finding new moves to show off!) 2. Jan vs Widow Von'Du ("This Is My Night") 3. Brita vs Heidi N Closet ("Burning Up") 4. Jackie Cox vs Widow Von'Du ("Firework") 5. Heidi N Closet vs Jaida Essence Hall ("1999") 6. Jackie Cox vs Heidi N Closet ("Kill the Lights") (Jackie was cringe) 7. Heidi N Closet vs Nicky Doll ("Heart to Break") (Nicky wasn't trying, but Heidi's moves were cute ignoring the wig fail) 8. Jaida Essence Hall vs [Redacted] ("Call Your Girlfriend") (LOL at Jaida playing off the other person) 9. Jaida Essence Hall solo ("Get Up") 10. Brita vs Rock M. Sakura ("S&M") (Rock M's skirt wouldn't come off! but Brita was enjoyable) 11. Top 3 Lip Sync #2 ("Survivor") 12. Crystal Methyd vs Jackie Cox ("On The Floor") 13. Crystal Methyd solo ("I'm Like a Bird") (it's meme-worthy at least) 14. Aiden Zhane vs Brita ("Let It Go") (Brita very theatrical/Aiden looks dead) 15. Gigi Goode solo ("Take On Me") (without the set design, it's not all that) 16. Top 3 Lip Sync #1 ("Bring Back My Girls") (it's just their faces...) 17. Dahlia Sin vs Nicky Doll ("Problem") Season ranking so far: 9 > 5 > 6 > 11 > AS2 > 4 > 10 > 2 > 7 > AS3 > AS4 > 3 > 8 > 12 > 1 > AS1

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autumnshighlady · 2 years ago

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Office Hours - pt.2

PROFESSOR!GAVRIEL X STUDENT!READER

summary: It’s been a month since your professor called you into his office, but he has not touched you since. You get frustrated and things escalate, and it’s payback time...

warnings: smut (18+), oral sex (m receiving), bratting, orgasm denial, bondage, spanking, praise kink, student/professor relationship (reader is in university/college and is therefore over the age of 18), etc, edging, pet names (baby, little one, darling)

word count: 3.9k

request: [multiple people wanted part 2 so here you go, I hope you all like it!]

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

for 🌻 anon <3

part 1

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You were pissed.

It had been a month since your little…. session… with Professor Gavriel in his office. A month since your hot professor bent you over his desk and fucked you to the point of tears, a month since he spread your legs open and feasted upon you like it was his last meal. You had left him wanting, teasing the possibility of another round before sauntering out of his office. While you couldn’t deny that Gavriel had easily gotten you to submit to him, the sadistic part of you needed to get the last word in. However, that seemed to have backfired. You had done everything you could to gain Gavriel’s attention – wearing short skirts to class, extremely low-cut tops, bending over more than necessary. But nothing had worked, no invitation to join your professor in his office again had been extended. One would almost think that your hookup hadn’t happened, if not for the occasional suggestive smirks from Gavriel. He teased you from afar with those tawny eyes, but never once made a move.

You were getting VERY frustrated. You missed the feeling of those large, tattooed hands roaming your body, exploring every part of you. You longed for his tongue, his cock, the feeling of that large figure bending over you. Night after night you slipped your own hand between your legs, desperately trying to relieve the throbbing at your core. But no matter how hard you tried, you could not find your release. You needed him.

Professor Gavriel had officially ruined you.

Part of you wondered if he could tell, if he was smug with pride knowing that you were riled up for weeks because your body craved him in order to bring you relief. Yet he continued to neglect you, and it was finally coming to bite you in the ass.

At your desk at the front of class, you nearly groaned in frustration, resting your head on your chin. Professor Gavriel was lecturing on this week’s readings, which you had not done. Normally you would be ahead of everyone, eagerly putting up your hand to answer the instructor’s questions. But not this week. This week, you decided, you could not give a shit about Gavriel’s class. He had called you his good girl before, daddy’s good girl, but no longer.

You knew it was stupid to gamble your grades all for the risk of getting attention from your professor, but you couldn’t help it. After weeks of nothing, no contact outside of class, no visits to his office, no orgasms, you were fed up. No matter how hard you tried, the professor would not cave. So you elected to abandon your class prep for this week, royally pissed off.

The sound of your last name from the professor’s lips snapped you back to reality.

“Yes, sir?” You murmured, aware of the roomful of eyes on you. Finally, you peered up at the figure in front of you. Gavriel was staring down at you, tawny eyes stern as they bore into yours. His large hands were tucked into the pockets of his light brown pants, muscles bulging beneath his forest green shirt. His golden hair fell loose around his face, reminding you of how it felt to be laying down staring up at him as he–

“Your thoughts on this week’s readings?” The professor repeated sternly. “Do you believe the scholar’s narrative was framed in a way that coincides with our theories from last class’s discussions? Would you argue that his piece was good or bad?”

If this had been a few months ago, you probably would have nearly burst into tears at the embarrassment, trying to make up some bullshit answer to cover your ass. You would have crawled over hot coals to avoid a situation like this, but not right now. Instead, a month’s worth of tension had riled up your attitude.

“I wouldn’t know, professor.” Your tone was sickly sweet, practically simpering as you raised your chin and met your professor’s gaze.

Gavriel raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” His tone was almost mocking, enraging you. “And why would that be?”

“Unfortunately, I was not able to get to this week’s readings yet.” Innocence dripped from your voice, the portrait of a student trying desperately to not get in trouble. To everyone else, you were a straight-A student who had finally begun to falter under the stress of midterm season. But not to Gavriel, no – the professor knew what game you were playing, and you knew it irked him. Daddy’s good girl, good no longer.

For a moment, there was silence. His eyebrow went back down, and you knew from the way his arms moved that those large hands curled into fists in his pockets. You nearly smirked, victorious, happy that the consequences of him ignoring you was finally catching up to him.

But he did not indulge you further.

“Disappointing.” Was all he muttered, before moving onto the next student who had raised their hand.

You nearly threw your water bottle at his head. You actually weren’t sure what you had expected, but it wasn’t that. Perhaps a month-long dry spell had gotten to your brain. Seething, you clutched your pen and waited out the rest of class.

As everyone began packing up their bags, you snuck a glance at the professor. Indeed, he was staring at you, eyes practically glowering.

See me after everyone leaves, his expression read.

And so you took your time packing your stuff away, waiting until the last student had exited the class and the door had shut before turning to Gavriel. He was leaning against his desk, eyes revealing nothing as he stared you down.

“Can I help you, sir?” You didn’t bother to keep the mocking tone out of your voice.

Gavriel’s eyes darkened, and he paused his fiddling with his pen.

Shit.

“You’re normally a much better student than this, my dear.” He said, piercing your gaze.

You simply shrugged. “I’ve been busy and distracted.” You said, pulling a thread on your skirt.

Gavriel scoffed. “That’s a pathetic excuse.” His tone was sharp.

“Whatever,” You bit back fiercely, before suddenly shifting your demeanour, peering up at him through your lashes and adding, “Daddy.”

A smirk blossomed across the professor’s face. “Ah, so that’s what this is about,” He said with fake sympathy as he stood up and prowled towards you. “My little girl is upset that daddy hasn’t given her any attention, isn’t she?”

As that large tattooed hand rested on the side of your neck, you nearly melted. But still, you fought the urge to utterly submit to the older male, despite the heat building pathetically fast between your legs. “Bold of you to assume it has anything to do with you.” You snapped.

Gavriel simply chuckled, bringing his lips to the side of your head and whispering into your ear. “Don’t play dumb, little one.” He said. “I know what game you’ve been playing. I’ve seen how desperate you are for me, how you practically show up to class in nothing but your skin. I can see it in your eyes, you practically begging me to fuck you, to take care of you. Bet you haven’t been sleeping well, have you baby? Not without me to give your body the one thing it needs. What’s it like, laying away all those nights only barely able to bring yourself to the edge before it all falls away?”

You whimpered finally, his words sending fire through your body. To have him so close, touching you after all of these weeks of nothing…. your body reacted to him in a way it hadn’t to anyone else, and the bastard knew it.

“You see, little one,” Gavriel continued, bringing his other hand to stroke the inside of your thigh in a way that had you trembling. “I was ready to go another round with you last time. I was ready to have you on your knees before me, that pretty mouth wrapped around my cock as I taught you all of the ways I like it. But you left me, little one. You walked out of that office just as I was ready to give you what you wanted. I had to finish the job myself, imagining that sweet pussy of yours as I brought myself to release alone in my office. And then you kept showing up in class, teasing daddy with those pretty little outfits. Oh how badly I wanted to take you right then and there, to rip those pieces of fabric to shreds and worship your body in the middle of the lecture hall.”

Without warning, Gavriel shoved his hand under your skirt, plunging two fingers into your core and pumping at a furious pace. You nearly collapsed, partially from the shock of it and partially from the relief of finally getting what you wanted.

“No panties?” Gavriel growling in your ear, biting softly as his thumb rubbed your clit. “My my, you have been naughty. What happened to daddy’s good girl, huh? If you needed me that badly all you had to do was ask, little one.”

You bit your lip almost to the point of blood, clinging onto his strong arms as he curled his fingers inside of you and pumped furiously. His scent filled your nostrils, and you relished in the pleasure. You were so dazed you didn’t even bother mentioning that this was a bad idea, that you were still in a classroom and another professor or student could walk in at any moment.

“All you have to do is ask, little one.” Gavriel murmured, “So tell me, baby, what is it you want?”

You gasped, feeling your release creep up embarrassingly fast. “I want to cum.” You whined, all defiance slipping.

“Come on, little one, you can do better than that.”

“Please, daddy, let me cum. I need you.”

You felt him smirk, and just as the coil inside of you was about to snap, Gavriel removed his fingers quickly and stepped away. “No.” He said, turning and walking away from you over to his desk..

Rage flooded your vision at his refusal, body aching at being denied once again. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You hissed, trembling as you rearranged your skirt.

After taking his time putting all of his items in his bag, the professor turned to you. “Bad girls don’t get rewarded.” Was all he said before exiting the classroom.

Another month had passed, and this time you were back on track with the readings. You resumed your class participation, which appeared to please Gavriel greatly. At this point you would walk across glass shards for him to touch you again, and if being a good student is what that took then you’d do it.

As Gavriel handed back another round of assignments, you noticed a note taped onto yours. Office, 6:15pm, it said.

Finally.

At 6:15pm sharp, you opened Gavriel’s office door. Luckily every other faculty member had left the building by now, leaving you and the professor alone. Wordlessly, you dropped your bag on the floor and seated yourself in the chair in front of the desk. Gavriel, who was standing in front of it and leaning against his desk, peered down at you.

“I’m proud of you,” He said, not failing to notice your thighs clenching together at the praise. “You’ve been such a good girl lately in class.”

“Thank you, daddy.” You practically beamed, not wanting to play anymore games. Not after being denied once already.

“Let me make one thing clear,” Gavriel’s voice was serious. “I am not punishing you for leaving me wanting in my office. You had every right to walk out anytime, and pretend it had not happened if that is what you wished. But you showed up to class in those little outfits, letting every male in the room feast his eyes on what’s mine. You talked back to daddy, all the while those other males got to see that perfect body of yours while I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”

Your heart melted a bit. As lust-ridden as you were with Gavriel, you knew he was a good male with a heart of gold. He wanted to make sure you knew he understood if you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. But oh gods you did.

“I’m yours, daddy.” You whispered. “Only yours.”

Gavriel sighed, stroking your hair. “I know, little one. But you were still a bad girl, and bad girls need punishment, don’t you think? After all, I saw how you clenched your legs when I mentioned punishment before.”

You nodded, the thrill of letting the professor do whatever he wanted sending arousal to your core.

“Good girl,” He said softly. “Now take off your clothes and get on your knees.”

You didn’t bother with being seductive, all too eager to see what the golden-haired male had in store. Almost frantically, you undressed and tossed your clothes to the side before falling onto your knees before him.

A chuckle sounded from above you. “So obedient for daddy.” Gavriel said. “My perfect little one, so eager to please me.”

You kept your gaze lowered, until you heard the sound of a belt buckle being fiddled with. Excitement rushed through you as you looked up and saw Gavriel’s cock freed from his pants. He looked like a god above you, golden hair falling artfully around his face as those tawny eyes were blown with a dark lust. He was perfect.

“Open your mouth, sweet girl.”

You did so without question, raising yourself up a bit so your lips could be level with his cock. As you parted them, Gavriel gently grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed himself in.

You moaned around him at his taste, relaxing your jaw to take him as far as possible, He was huge – tears watering in your eyes as you struggled to take him all the way. And then your professor moaned.

The sound was deep and animalistic, a song that you could listen to on repeat forever. It filled the room, creating a pool of wetness slipping down your inner thighs. With new resolve, you forced your jaw to relax even more as he pulled away and then gently pushed back in.

“Oh gods, your mouth feels so good.” Gavriel moaned. You could tell he was holding back, his jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut as if he was trying to calm himself.

He wanted to fuck your mouth.

You could tell that was what he truly wanted to do, but wasn’t sure how much you’d be ok with. So you took one hand and brought it to the one he had in your hair, encouraging it to tighten as you bobbed your head harder and faster.

“Are you sure, little one?” His voice was strained. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes, nodding as best you could around his cock. For only a moment, Gavriel hesitated, and then he unleashed himself upon you.

He plunged his cock further into your mouth, hips jutting forward at a relentless pace. The grip in your hair tightened to your delight, as you let your professor fuck your mouth. Tears streamed down your face as you desperately struggled to breathe, but fucking hell you loved it.

While you had loved the gentle worshipping of your body Gavriel had done last time, you had known that this animalistic side of him was bound to make an appearance every once and a while. He was normally so composed and kind, and pride filled you knowing that you were the one to bring out this side of him.

Gavriel grunted above you muscles tensing. He roared and gasped as his release filled your mouth. You eagerly swallowed it, while savouring the image of the older male above you, his mouth parted in a moan as he emptied himself into your mouth.

You both remained there, panting for a minute before he pulled you up. You leaned in to kiss him, but a tattooed hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed gently.

“Did you think that was your punishment, little one?” Gavriel said, his voice deep and velvety. “No no, you enjoyed that too much for it to be a punishment, isn’t that right?”

As best you could with your throat held captive, you nodded.

“That’s what I thought.” Gavriel said. He released your neck and pointed to the desk. “Now bend over and put your hands behind your back.”

The tone in his voice left no room for questions. You made the few steps to his desk and leaned your upper body over top of the wood, placing your hands behind your back. You heard shuffling, followed by a drawer opening. You wanted to turn around and look to see what Gavriel was doing, but you didn’t dare. It had been two fucking months since you were able to cum, unable to do it on your own – your own hands no longer satisfied you, not after feeling what the touch of those older, experienced male ones could do.

Before you could let your curiosity wander too far, you felt something soft against your hands. This time, you couldn’t help but sneak a peek. In Gavriel’s hands was a golden rope, which he was carefully tying your hands together with. It was tight, but not enough to cut off any blood flow, just enough to keep you immobile.

After what seemed like forever, Gavriel was satisfied with the intricate knots he created. He stroked a hand down them, admiring his work. The rope twisted around your wrists, locking them into place. The knot went up your back, looping around your neck, arms, and waist. The gold colour matched his hair, you noted as you stared at what you could see of the rope on your biceps.

“Beautiful.” Gavriel murmured to himself.

You couldn’t help the pride that filled your chest at the praise.

After admiring his work, he rubbed your bare ass with his large hand. “You are going to count each strike,” Gavriel said firmly. “We are going to do twenty. If you lose track, we start all over again. If it’s too much, say ‘red’. But if you take it like a good girl, I will reward you. Am I clear?”

“Yes, daddy.” You whimpered, quivering in anticipation. You had never been spanked before – it’s something that frankly hadn’t even crossed your mind until now. But the thought of those large, tattooed hands leaving imprints on your flesh–

SMACK.

You yelped in surprise as the first hit was placed, harder than expected upon your left cheek. You whimpered, trembling as he rubbed it.

“Count.” He growled firmly, swatting the back of your thigh.

“One.” You gasped.

“There’s my good girl.”

Before you had time to process, the second hit found its mark on your right cheek this time. Gods, he hit hard. The flesh of your ass burned, but not enough to completely distract you from the ever growing arousal at the apex of your thighs.

“Two.” Your voice was a mere whimper.

And so Gavriel continued, alternating between sides as he dealt blow after blow to your stinging flesh. The pain threatened to overwhelm you, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt, how aroused you were at the much older male marking you as his. You knew you would have trouble sitting down for a whole week after this. Gavriel would surely savour the next few classes, tawny eyes watching as you winced sitting down in your seat.

You belonged to him. Intentionally or not, he had made sure no other male could make you feel the things he could.

Finally, you rasped out, “Twenty.” Tears soaked your face, legs shaking at the pain that seared your ass. Your breath was ragged, but you were soaked and Gavriel knew it.

“Good girl,” He purred, massaging the red area with his hands. “You did so so well, my love. Now, do you think you’ve learned your lesson?”

“Yes, daddy,” You practically wept, desperate for him to touch the aching area between your legs. “I promise I’ll behave, I’ll be your good girl I promise.”

That seemed enough for your professor, for he grunted in satisfaction. “And good girls get rewards.” He said.

All of the breath was knocked out of you as Gavriel dropped to his knees and spread your legs further. Still bent over the desk, you gasped as he buried his face in your cunt.

You could tell that all of the restraint he’d been showing the past two months had been slipping slowly, for the way he feasted upon you told you that he’d been missing this as much as you had. Every flick of his tongue and touch of his lips threatened to make you implode, reeling from the pleasure your body had been craving. Yet you were still bound, unable to do anything but whimper and take whatever Gavriel chose to give you.

And he gave you it all.

His lips brought you over the edge first, then his fingers did the same minutes later. You were seeing stars, on the verge of blacking out as you came twice in five minutes.

Practically sobbing, your legs threatened to collapse as Gavriel finally plunged his cock into you. Thank the gods the desk held you up, for the pace he set was unlike anything you had felt before. This was not gentle lovemaking, this was an animalistic, claiming, rough fucking that was designed to ruin you, to make you fall apart under the older male. The wood shook beneath you as large hands gripped your hips, plunging his cock in and out of you at a pace you didn’t know was possible.

You couldn’t even turn your head to see if Gavriel had removed his clothes. All you could focus on was him, that massive cock inside of your already sensitive core. The ropes heightened everything, restraining your body’s natural reactions to cling onto something, anything.

“You’re mine,” Gavriel growled. “I’ve wanted to bend you over and fuck you in front of everyone for weeks. Could barely focus on the lecture, not with the eyes of those males shamelessly admiring you.”

Frankly, you hadn’t noticed that, too wrapped up in gaining attention from the professor to even observe the males your age around you.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He continued, striking deeper inside of you. “You’d like everyone to know you belong to daddy. You relish in the marks I leave on your skin, you think about me as you desperately touch yourself each night, don’t you? It’s ok, little one, daddy will take care of you. You’re mine.”

His words sent you over the edge. You practically screamed out his name as your orgasm shook your entire body. The professor followed moments later, releasing himself inside of you. You felt completely limp as the aftershocks rode through your sore body, a fresh batch of tears staining the desk.

Within heartbeats, Gavriel pulled out and began untying the rope that held you captive. He kissed your skin, murmuring praises as he gently removed the restraints. All you could do was lay there, thinking about one thing.

Your professor had utterly ruined you. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#🌻<3 #gavriel #gavriel x reader #gavriel smut #professor!gavriel x reader #throne of glass #throne of glass smut #tog #sjm #fae #amara's professor series

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bokubear · 3 years ago

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but your majesty, he’s a fool

pairing ; atsumu miya x princess!reader

genre ; historical korea( joseon dynasty ) assumed fem!reader

notes ; i wanted to take this opportunity to write for one of south korea’s most infamous eras ( and a royal au for tsumie )

before you read ->

*jorigae or 조리개 = a braised dish made of fish, meat, or vegetables

*wangbi or 왕비 = refers to the current wife of the king

*wang or 왕 = the current king in power

*jeonha or 전하 = a common way to refer to their “your majesty”

*gongju or 공주 = the current princess ( daughter of the king )

*sabu-nim or 사부님 = a teacher/master

*seonbi or 선비 = a scholar

*swenne or 쇤네 = a humble way for a servant to refer to someone of higher status than himself

no, this could not possibly be happening. yet the person sitting in front of your eyes made your head spin like mad.

atsumu miya, now serving as a sabu-nim* of the eastern palace where you resided. it hadn’t been easy, especially when all eyes were on you, the gongju* with the crown prince busying himself in the eastern palace where the wangbi* lives.

but alone here ? with this incompetent man as your tutor whose ego far surpassed that of his intelligence. surely the wang* had to be mistaken ?

immediately you turned on your heel, brows fitting tightly together with frustration.

“wait a minute princess, gimme a second to explain myself.”

“you have nothing to explain, i’ve warned you before not to step a foot in this palace while i’m attending.” you hissed, not daring to glance behind you with fear you’d snap right there and easily make a decision you’d regret forever.

because there was no way the gods had it in, as if they knew you had been stuffing the erupting feelings of affection for the sabu-nim* down for what felt to be centuries.

bursting the doors to the kings quarters, you silenced your bubbling anger at once, knowing full well the power this man held was and would forever be unmatched.

“jeonha*, i would like to be informed before you elect a sabu-nim* for my studies.” you dropped to your knees, not daring to meet that cold stare. a harsh silence stretched between the two.

“.. do you really expect such low decision of the servant surveying my daughters education to be made ? the man that will be aiding you in your royal studies is a seonbi* after all. nothing less than what is necessary for the palace. do not make me waste my breath, i trust you know the proper response.” every consonant he spoke left your ears ringing, fists clenched hard on the ground below you.

“yes, of course your honor, thank you for clearing the misunderstanding.” you rose to your feet quietly, padding towards the teaching house used for studying the books stacked nearby in the library.

taking a seat, you were poured tea, chamomile actually—to calm you’re frenzied mind. well, apparently it was supposed to do so until that exact headache of a person arrived through the sliding doors.

“get out.” you seethed, head staring down at your script.

“let me say something at least.” he leaned against the doorway, lip held between his teeth—glancing around at the lavish surroundings before taking a starting breath.

“i know you hate me with all yer heart but seriously, i don’t have much of a choice, your words are as good as mine, so i’m assuming that’s not much from yer face right now.” that smirk, you were done for.

“was that supposed to be an insult ?” he held his hands up innocently with a mocking face, nevertheless guilty.

“just sayin’ we aren’t any use, so just put up with it princess. anyways, it can’t be that bad.” he plopped down loudly in front of you, boisterously pouring himself a cup only to chuckle lowly and become still—arm flitting to rest his cheek on top.

“i can call you swenne*~”

“GET OUT.”

“alright alright but seriously, your first lesson starts tomorrow.” he sighed heavily, although still smiling all the way till the door closed.

the next morning he arrived simply moments later than you did, placing a plentiful amount of books on the table.

“you ready swenn-i mean princess ?” and it seemed as soon as those words were spoken, weeks passed in a matter of seconds.

you were both lovestruck fools, currently laughing in the midst of the spring field surrounded by various hues of flowers. enamored by everything he had to offer, the sabu-nim* you once acted so bitterly towards now making you laugh constantly.

“i’m amazed that you managed to land a position in the royal palace when you’re such a big oaf.” the blonde, rolled over from beside you, now hovering on top of you, you’re breath catching in your throat.

“well isn’t this a compromising position swenne*, and just to let you know this big oaf is more intelligent than you think.” he practically purred at your flustered face.

“you’re still a big oaf though.” you covered your face with your hands in embarrassment, giggling.

“i might just have to shut you up then.” his muscular hands coming to rest comfortably on your jaw, as if they were meant to be there. he was so close. all these weeks of pining and such for someone you were forbidden being anything more than teacher and student to, extremely compromising.

“can i ? just this once princess.” he tilted his head, breath smelling of the familiar jorigae* you’d shared earlier that day. you could feel the his warmth fanning your lips. nothing like you’ve ever experienced before, maybe that was why it was so enticing after all. you didn’t need to answer, your arms snaking around his neck to pull him in, connecting so gently it almost felt false.

“you taste like it.” he laughed, wrinkles forming around his eyes happily, pulling away ever so slightly.

“what ? jorigae* ? that’s rude.” you frowned from beneath him, earning another laugh.

“no, chamomile. y’know you two are alike in ways swenne.* fascinating and strange on the outside but cute and sweet on the inside.”

“shut up-“ you covered your face again, face breaking into a smile as he pried your hands away defiantly.

“see ! told you ! you’re a cutie pie.”

“that’s not the correct way to address your superior sabu-nim*.” you corrected, lifting your brows and trying so hard not to burst into a fit of giggles once more.

“seriously, you’re unbelievable.”

-maak

plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

#hqxreader #haikyuuxreader #hq #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu fic #atsumu drabble #atsumu >>>>>#atsumu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

Note

"Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time" (c) wait a second, so you think that he wasn't going to really take over or anything, just destroy the fuck out of w britain?

I have avoided this ask long enough.

I’ll start by saying that asking me about Tom Riddle is like staring down into a bottomless rabbit hole. We could travel down that path, but it is a dark and perilous journey, and by the end of it I will come out looking like the Mad Hatter.

It also requires a few prerequisites that you’re just going to accept as true (or else got off the crazy train here).

We know very little about Tom Riddle or Voldemort

What we do know of Tom Riddle comes to us from suspect sources

I’m just going to go out there and start with the basis that Tom is not crazy

Elaborating a little on number 1. We never actually see much of Tom Riddle or Voldemort directly. He’s a bit like Thanos in the MCU, or Palpatine in the first two movies of the Original Trilogy, he’s this looming threat that we pass by and glimpse every once in a while but never really get quality time with.

Generally, Voldemort makes an appearance in a moment of crisis.

He and Harry fight over the philosopher’s stone for Tom’s very survival. He and Harry fight over the diary for Tom’s very survival. He resurrects himself with Harry as a witness. We get those very strange dreams from Voldemort’s perspective (half of which we later learn are fabricated).

None of these really lend to our, or Harry’s for that matter, understanding of Tom Riddle. There’s too much going on, it usually happens far too fast, and there’s usually something Tom Riddle desperately wants or needs that eclipses all other concerns or else he has an audience.

This is part of the reason we get those Halfblood Prince pensieve lessons: Harry knows nothing of Tom Riddle and doesn’t understand him at all.

Which leads us, of course, to number 2, most of what we know about Tom Riddle comes from Dumbledore. I’ve talked about this before, so I won’t spend much time on it, but Dumbledore has a very clear agenda in relaying these memories to Harry. Dumbledore already has strong suspicions of what objects are horcruxes and where they’re located, he already has Snape as a very reliable agent to continue work when he’s gone, his job here is to convince Harry there is no path but suicide. And that involves portraying Tom Riddle as the most evil man who ever eviled, was born eviler than the antichrist, and will die eviler than the antichrist.

Now, does this make Tom necessarily good or bad? No.

However, it does mean when Dumbledore tells us things like, “See, Harry, an impoverished child was upset when I lit all his belongings on fire! What a monster!” (especially given that, in a similar situation, Harry thought it was hilarious when Hagrid gave Dudley a permanent physical deformity and Harry was told he was an angel child) we should take it with a very large grain of salt.

Right, so, with all that backdrop what I’m getting at is that a) we can’t take Dumbledore at his word b) even if we could he could be wrong c) Harry doesn’t have the introspection to be able to figure himself when a or b is happening. I won’t elaborate on this last much, suffice to say that Harry’s world is very black and white, divided into the camps of those who personally like him and those who don’t.

So, why do I think Tom’s goal was not to rule the wizarding world but instead to destroy it?

A few things.

First, there are so many easier ways he could have ended up ruling the wizarding world. More, even when he effectively does rule the wizarding world in book seven, he takes very strange actions so that he’s never directly in power.

Second, I never really bought Tom’s racism. It’s too convenient and too contradictory with his backstory.

The second first, because we’re going out of order today. I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t believe Tom had minions early and I think he was effectively treated as a muggleborn (see here and here) until he took on the Voldemort persona many decades later. I’m hard pressed to believe someone as intelligent, angry, and proud as Tom Riddle would willingly believe and accept he was inferior to the likes of Abraxas Malfoy. More, even if he wished he was a halfblood, I think the evidence of him being muggleborn would be stacked too high against him to deny even to himself (and when he finds out it’s not true, he has maybe a month or so before he realized that he’s the bastard son of a squib).

And it’s just so convenient. All the people with the power, with the money, who are itching for a cause against a threat that doesn’t really exist believe in blood purity. Ergo, Voldemort shows up suddenly espousing over the top blood purity rhetoric (rhetoric that directly clashes with his “there is only power” philosophy at that).

In other words, I think Tom Riddle gave himself a line that he knew would get him places very quickly.

And now for the first. For a guy who has had the entire country in the palm of his hands twice, one time taking it over in a bloodless coup, he’s really big on causing collateral damage and really small on actually doing the ruling thing.

The first wizarding war, Tom Riddle as Voldemort has the backing of the heirs of the most prestigious and wealthy noble houses save a select few. These are people with seats in the Wizengamot, which has a frightening control over the government itself (including the minister of magic). I imagine, in 1980 had Tom Riddle wanted to be elected as Minister of Magic, he would have been elected as Minister of Magic. If he wanted a friendly face in office then he probably could have made that happen to.

More than even this though, by this point, Tom had already won. By having control over the majority of the Wizengamot he owns the government. He’s done, it’s over, it’s finished, and many of the characters admit as much which is why Harry Potter was such a miracle. So why all the seemingly random, exceptionally pointless, terrorism?

One answer is that Voldemort is crazy bananas. And sure, I guess we can go with that, except for someone insane he’s oddly effective and very consistent.

I believe Tom was systematically destroying the very foundations of the country through its core aristocratic families. Within a few short years Tom decimates the Black family, it goes from having five heirs to none, and while some of this isn’t Tom’s fault he does take care of quite a few of them. He brands Lucius for life, while Lucius rises high in politics he never escapes the stigma of being a known Death Eater and in the end cannot escape the consequences for his actions. The Malfoy family is very nearly destroyed by the end of the series, had Draco died in the Fiendfyre. The LeStrange family, presumably decimated as well.

More, this is mostly me headcanoning, but I imagine Tom fuels an extremism that the Wizarding World had never contemplated. I imagine, previously, anti-muggleborn sentiment was probably fairly rampant among purebloods. Oh, some were very pro-muggleborn I’m sure, but I think most were fairly “eh” on the people and felt they were a drain on society (such as requiring constant funding for the obliviation department).

However, when Diagon Alley starts getting blown up every other week, when muggleborns start being tortured and murdered, when purebloods who aren’t anti-muggleborn enough are being tortured and murdered, this starts wigging people out in a way they’ve never wigged out before.

By the time we get to Harry Potter’s canon, it is now only a minority that are anti-muggleborn, and they’re perceived as raving lunatics. Nobody wants to be grouped with these people. Which, just goes to show, how much Voldemort rattles the wizarding world in a very small amount of time.

Then there’s Deathly Hallows, rather than become minister himself Voldemort installs a puppet minister. He shows no signs of wishing to change this and instead does things like destroy the sorting hat (which again shakes the very foundations of the wizarding world as whta will we do if we don’t know who’s a Gryffindor anymore?!)

So, where is this ramble going?

Given the results we see, that more than any others it seems to be the purebloods and often Tom’s own followers that suffer colossal losses, I think Tom’s actions are, in part, a means of vengeance against the entire damn wizarding world (but especially the purebloods).

He makes fools of these people, brands them as his slaves, and has them participate in the most over the top ridiculous rituals (the cloaks, the masks, the entire theatrics of it feels like Tom got drunk one night and planned this whole thing out). He destroys them entirely, and better, enables them to completely destroy themselves and the country they believe they’re trying to save.

Basically, I think by the time the series begins Tom is fueled by a nihilist rage that knows no bounds. But dammit all, the wizarding world is going to burn.

#ask #tom riddle #voldemort #anon

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sugamamacustard · 4 years ago

Text

Feral Animal

Pairing: Alpha! Kentarou Kyoutani x Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: Hi! I love your abo blog! I was wondering if you could write about Alpha!Kyotani with an Omega!Reader, where their first encounter catches everyone by surprise? Like, Reader has a traditionally alpha scent (like burning/smokey wood) and can usually get away with being mistaken as an alpha at first glance? It’s fine if you’re asks are full or you don’t want to do this but thanks for your time 😊 —Sno

Summary: You just wanted to get the boys to practice on time. You weren’t prepared to deal with this. Good thing you had a gaurdian angel- or should we say, dog.

Author’s Note: I love Kyoutani so much. Like he’s in my top three people I simp for.

Requests: Open!

Kentarou Kyoutani

➵ No one gathered in your way when walked down the hall. You smelt strong enough to put them on edge.

➵ Peoples hackles were constantly raised when you were around, and truthfully, you didn’t know why.

➵ You were still you. You were still an omega.

➵ You still ached to reach out for touch, to scent someone, to just have the smallest bit of attention from anyone that wasn’t Iwaizumi.

➵ You and he had met when you were young, and he took to being your personal guardian—since he was a year older than you.

➵ You were thankful for him and his friendship, but that was all it would ever be. You both tried dating in your first year of middle school (Dating being a loose term), but it was obvious you were better off as friends.

➵ You both still hung out constantly though, and eventually he grew to be an older brother to you.

➵ When you got to high school though, you quickly realized that with Iwaizumi came Oikawa. You had known him just as you had known Iwaizumi, but the other male seemed to keep his distance from you.

➵ It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he was keeping his distance with you. When you and Iwaizumi explained to him there was nothing between the two of you, nor would there ever be, he calmed down.

➵ The fellow omega (Oikawa is an omega ass bottom change my mind. Unless it comes to requests. Then he’s an alpha for you :D) grew to be close with you as well and if one or the other was being idiotic you stepped in as the shoulder to cry on.

➵ You were happy for them, truly, but you knew sooner or later you were going to be out of the picture.

➵ They were third years, and you were a second year. They had a relationship that ran deeper than any thing you could offer them.

➵ And that was okay.

➵ Facing the obvious, it’s clear that, because your best friends are those two dorks, you’re into volleyball. Or in the very least, know of it and how to play. Because of this, you’re elected manager.

➵ No more choice.

➵ You don’t fawn over Oikawa constantly, you can handle Iwaizumi’s outbursts, you were calm with the first years, and you don’t put up with any fan girl’s bullshit.

➵ You didn’t get the chance to refuse honestly.

➵ “I’m sorry, but unfortunately, Oikawa-Senpai is busy at the moment- “

➵ “Please, just- Let me see him! I won’t be long!” The Alpha pleaded, trying to appease to your sense of empathy. Unfortunately for her, that was dried up before the second girl even looked at you to ask the very same thing.

➵ You were tired of girls, obviously not getting the hint, trying to confess their undying love to Oikawa every other day. How did they not see he was an Omega?

➵ Yeah, he had suppressants out the wahzoo but, good golly, his mannerisms were all Omega.

➵ Apparently this alpha though her and Oikawa would be the ultimate power couple.

➵ “Like I said before, he is busy. Any time you take up is time wasted.” You snorted, turning tail and shutting the gym door, ignoring the screech of anger behind it. You were used to it.

➵ Most times you locked them out, they’d throw a bitch-fit, turn and bad-mouth you to their friends for a few days.

➵ They’d tease you for your scent—which was a, frankly lovely, pinewood and amber scent—and poke fun at you, saying how ‘you’ll never get an alpha smelling stronger than them” with a sneer. You’ve learned to ignore those types of girls.

➵ What you didn’t expect however, was for her to scream some more, banging on the metal door.

➵ It was ripped open in your moment of shock, making you turn on your heel to face her.

➵ Her hair, though still relatively upkept, was frizzy with fly-a way’s running out occasionally, but her eyes were what scared you.

➵ They were constricted to ball point bulbs that were locked onto you, fangs poking out as she snarled at you.

➵ Of course. Because why wouldn’t a feral Alpha be part of your day today?

➵ You growled yourself, trying to reign in your scent but it was getting harder and harder as she stalked closer.

➵ No one else was in the gym, as they were changing in the club room, but you figured you could handle her.

➵ You hoped at least.

➵ She tried pouncing on you, your arms quickly crossing in front of your face to shield yourself, but instead of an angry alpha trying to claw your eyes out, you merely got a gust of wind.

➵ Peeking open an eye—you couldn’t recall closing them, but whatever—you frowned at the face staring back at you.

➵ You hadn’t talked to him, personally, but you knew who he was. Kentarou Kyoutani.

➵ He was incredibly strong, a worthy advisory, and worst of all…

➵ A ticking time-bomb of an alpha.

➵ He had the resting bitch face to end all resting bitch faces, and the attitude to go with it. He had only said one word to you ever and it was ‘move’. His voice was gruff and angry when he said it, but his eyes softened when you looked up at him.

➵ He waited patiently for you to gather your things before moving. That was the first, and what you thought, last time you’d ever see the alpha. He entranced you though, so you wouldn’t ever necessarily be opposed to seeing him again.

➵ Just maybe not in this circumstance.

➵ Kyoutani held the alpha by the collar of her shirt, his lips poked up in a snarl with his canines gleaming dangerously in the sunlight

➵ . Contrary to popular belief, he’d only ever gone feral once in his life. His stepfather, an awful, awful, excuse for an alpha had raised a hand to his Mama.

➵ He refused to let anyone ever raise a hand to omega that day and stuck to his grits with it.

➵ Many people often feared him because of his careful eye and quick reflexes.

➵ They claimed he was close to going feral because they never cared to admit they were planning on hurting someone. He didn’t care.

➵ At least he didn’t. When he saw you simply turn and close the gym door, he felt his heart skip a beat.

➵ Maybe it was just the fact that you didn’t relent, or maybe it was the fact that you didn’t care or bend or submiss in the absolute slightest, or maybe it was the waft of the most calming scent he’s ever smelt before.

➵ He knew the other alpha’s scent, as she had practically reeked all over him while asking him for things Oikawa liked before he snapped on her, so this was all you. And he…liked it.

➵ He hated scents that were too sweet or too ‘exciting’ in a way, but this? This was calming and euphoric all in one and he wanted to straight up bathe in it. It smelt that good.

➵ He watched the alpha screech, stomping her foot—he could guess she was the very definition of daddy’s girl with her reaction to being told ‘no’—and before he could growl at her to leave, she was forcing open the door and snarling.

➵ So, he dropped his bag and ran to make sure you were okay. His alpha pawing at him to hurry up.

➵ He had felt the very same as they day he ran his stepfather out of his life, but this time…This time, he would be sure not to go feral. That would scare you and he couldn’t, wouldn’t risk that.

➵ When he got there, the alpha lunged and he had barely enough time to grab her. You looked shocked to see him, or maybe it was residue from when she broke into the gym, but you didn’t say anything.

➵ He took that as a good sign, turning tail and dragging her to where he dropped his bag. He grabbed it quickly, instead dropping her and rushing back to the gym.

➵ You closed the door behind him, Iwaizumi and Matsukawa quickly locking it. In the time, between Kyoutani dragging out the feral alpha you had the chance to text Iwaizumi, sending choppy and shaky, but succinct, messages to let him know what was going on.

➵ The rest of the team were on their way anyway, so they merely hurried their steps. When they turned to lock the door, you stopped them, crying for them to just wait for a minute.

➵ Kyoutani had run in seconds after your plea and the door was quickly shut.

➵ Scents were going insane in the gym, but his was most discernible to you. He smelt scared.

➵ Before anyone had a chance to mention it though, he was turning to you and reaching for your face.

➵ you flinched but that didn’t stop him. His fingers were gentle, more so than you could expect from him, and he was so soft while turning your face to observe the damage. Iwaizumi tried to get close, but he was growled at as you were held to Kyoutani’s chest.

➵ The team could only watch, flabbergasted, as you were hugged and scented by their mad dog. Even more so when you began laughing and purring, placing your hands around his neck.

➵ You whispered something (They were ‘Thank you’ and appreciation whispers) into his ear, making his shoulders visibly relax. No one could really understand what had happened, but they weren’t sure if they wanted to question it just yet.

➵ Well, most of team didn’t at least.

➵ “Aw, Mad dog-Chan! How do you know our little Chibi-chan?” Oikawa laughed, leaning off Iwaizumi as he spun a volleyball on his pointer finger.

➵ Kyoutani grunted, abruptly pulling away, only to growl and pull you back when his alpha snarled. “Don’t.”

➵ “Wait- wait, wait. Hold on.” Hanamaki snorted, holding his hands up. “So you, Mad dog, most vicious alpha this side of the equator, just decided fuck it, and chose to not only save an omega you’ve never met, but then hog her? I don’t know, Mattsun, seems kind of sus to me.”

➵ “Very sus.” Matsukawa agreed, snickering. He yelped however, when Kyoutani turned to snarl at him, only for you to hold him back. Matsukawa had never felt more scared for his life in that very moment, and he owed you a whole ass chapel.

➵ It stayed like that for the rest of the practice, with you calming Kyoutani down ever time he needed a ‘time out’ and over time he got much better at controlling his anger.

➵ No one was surprised when you walked in two weeks later, a small, thin leather choker clipped on around your neck with a hand-made moon charm hanging from it.

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ginemrys · 3 years ago

Note

a bedsharing fic!! <3

i had some fun with this one!!! thank you for sending in the prompt @sunshine-marauders <3

-------

“Lily, it’s okay, we’ll grab a room in a hotel, it’s not the end of the world.” James said as the two of them stood staring up at the boards in the centre of Euston station, tears in Lily’s eyes as she read the bright orange “CANCELLED” sign beside their train, the last train of the night that would get them home.

It had been a wonderful night of visiting the theatre with one of her best friends, getting lost in a musical for a few hours. The two of them had been singing songs from the show to each other on the tube on the way back to their station, not caring as they got weird stares from other passengers on the Northern line whilst they sang a beautiful rendition of All I Ask Of You. And sure, Lily had felt her heart beat a little faster when they reached the point of the song where Christine and Raoul kiss as she looked into James’ eyes, but that didn’t mean she liked him. It just meant that she understood the character, right?

But their sing-along had come at a price. They’d missed their stop. And the next after that. Then the next. It wasn’t until the last passenger left besides them on the train got off at Golders Green that they’d realised their mistake. And then they’d had to run and get the tube back to Euston, only to just miss one. A three minute wait later and they were finally heading back to Euston, getting off to discover that the last train to Northampton was cancelled. And they were stranded in London.

Lily was wiping furiously at her eyes. They’d stopped for a drink in a bar after the show, assuming that they’d have enough time. So the alcohol in her system heightened her emotions, resulting in the water works. James was scrolling through his phone, looking for the closest hotel.

“There’s a Travelodge or a Premier Inn, they’re fairly close. Everything else is ridiculously expensive.” James said, glancing up at her. “Which would you prefer?”

“Premier Inn, duh.” Lily said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Are you sure we can’t get a taxi?”

“From Euston to Leighton Buzzard?” James shook his head. “It’ll be cheaper to spend the night. Come on, it won’t be that bad. It’s just a short walk and then we can grab some breakfast in the morning before heading home.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “What do you say?”

“Fine,” Lily shoved his side playfully, but leaned into his hold after. “But you’re buying breakfast, you’re the one who suggested drinks.”

“Deal.” James chuckled before ducking to kiss the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go. It’s late and we’re both shattered.”

And so they made their way out of the station, following Google Maps to the closest Premier Inn. It was dead quiet inside, just one sleepy receptionist behind the desk barely able to hold her head up.

“Hi, how can I help?” She asked in a monotone voice, having just blinked at the two of them a few times as if she was trying to figure out if they were real or just her imagination.

“Hey, we missed the last train home. Do you have any rooms for tonight?” James asked, running his hand through his hair. Lily watched his movements, eyes following the motion of his fingers brushing through the messy black curls. She wanted to do that, run her hands through his hair. Chill out, Lily. She mentally berated herself, barely hearing the conversation beside her as she tried to sort out whatever the hell was going on with her hormones at that moment.

“Lily?”

“What?”

“Are you good with sharing a bed? There’s only doubles left.”

Holy shit. The thought of sharing a bed with James both thrilled and terrified her. Would she be able to control herself around him? The not crush but definitely a crush that she’d been harbouring for him for the last few months might rear its ugly head and make her do something stupid. But then again, she really didn’t want to have to walk all the way to the Travelodge and have the exact same option, or no room at all.

So she nodded, blushing when James grinned and turned back to the receptionist, passing over his card. Lily tried to protest but he insisted that she could just send him half the money later to save time. Then before she knew it she was joining him in the lift, heading up to the fifth floor. Of course James had had the foresight to ask for some toothbrushes and toothpaste, Lily was far too occupied to even consider such a thing.

Lily decided that she was going to hum to herself the overture to Phantom of the Opera as they travelled up to their floor, her eyes fixed on the ceiling of the lift. And then James’ hand was in hers, pulling her out of the lift and down the corridors of the fifth floor until they came to a stop in front of their room. He swiped the key card and there they were, alone, in a room with one bed.

Her throat felt thick as Lily looked at the double bed, why did it look so tiny? She stood in the small space beside the open wardrobe and the bathroom while James flicked on the lights and moved further into the room, peeling off his jacket and kicking off his shoes as he went.

“Come on, Evans. It’s just a place to sleep.” He smiled at her as he said it, noticing her hesitance. Damn him for being so perceptive to her emotions all of the time. With a deep breath, Lily walked further into the room, setting her shoes beside his while her own jacket draped over the top of his on the chair.

“Here, toothbrush.” He said, passing her one of the two clear toothbrushes he had picked up. “I’ll let you use the bathroom first, gentleman as I am.”

“Oh, so kind.” Lily rolled her eyes while grinning at him, accepting the toothbrush gratefully. She shut herself up in the bathroom, immediately rushing to the sink to splash some water on her face. Why was she so warm? “Get it together, Evans.” She muttered to herself, glancing at her reflection. She sighed as she looked at her makeup, minimal as it was, she had nothing to remove it with. Which would almost certainly result in panda eyes in the morning, but what other choice did she have?

So she left her face alone and focused on brushing her teeth, being a little more thorough than she usually would so James wouldn’t have to wake up to horrific morning breath. God, James was going to see her first thing in the morning. Christ on a bike. She filled one of the small glasses by the sink with water to rinse out her mouth, then gulped another glass down.

James was sitting perched on the edge of the bed when she returned, his eyes meeting hers straight away. Damn, did this man ever stop smiling?

“All… All yours.” Lily said quietly, stepping out of the way as he moved to head into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Lil.”

The door locked behind him and she released a deep breath again, her fingers moving shakily to undo her jeans. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in them, so wanted to get them off and climb under the covers before he could come back. He wouldn’t want to see her in her underwear.

Jeans folded, with her bra tucked safely beneath them, Lily climbed into the left side of the bed, hoping he didn’t mind that she preferred the left. She plugged her phone into the socket next to her bed, thanking her past self for packing her charger in her bag. And then she waited, sitting cross-legged beneath the duvet as she listened to the sounds of the tap running.

The bathroom door opened and Lily had to do her best not to gasp. He’d taken his shirt off. It wasn’t even like it was the first time she’d seen him shirtless either, but seeing him in a dimly lit bedroom right before he was about to be laying right next to her was something else.

“You don’t mind if I sleep in my boxers, do you?” He was asking, his eyes having taken note of her folded jeans.

Lily shook her head, doing her best to look him in the eyes rather than drool all over his bare chest like some hormonal teenage girl watching Magic Mike for the first time. But then he turned his back on her and was pushing his jeans over his hips and Lily couldn’t help but stare. It was actually so unfair how fit her best friend was now, she could still remember the scrawny little kid she used to swim in the local lake with.

Any shred of sanity Lily had left vanished when he turned to face her again, she could feel a wave of heat rushing all over her body. And he’d seen it happen, had seen her eyes darken and her gaze shift into something hungry.

But he ignored it, electing to just climb into bed beside her and turn out the light, facing away from her.

With a slight huff, Lily threw herself down against her pillow, gazing up at the dark ceiling. Her arms were folded over her chest, her legs still crossed like they had been when she’d been sitting. While annoyed that he’d not responded to her sex eyes, she also just felt embarrassed. Because she’d totally just objectified him, looked at her best friend in the whole world like he was a tree for her to climb and use. And she hated herself for it.

“I can hear you thinking, Evans.” James whispered through the darkness, his back still facing hers. “Relax.”

And she did, her hands slid to rest on her stomach, her legs unfolded and moved to rest against the mattress. Her eyes closed and she let out a small sigh. And then he had to go and roll over, his breath on her neck.

While she knew she should just ignore it, squint her eyes and try to sleep, Lily couldn’t help but turn her head on her pillow, her eyes opening once more. And there he was, looking at her. No glasses, his hair already made even messier than usual from the pillow. He just looked so soft.

Usually James was all sharp edges and angular, charisma dripping from every inch of his body. He was sarcastic and energetic and never ever seemed to get tired. But there, laying in bed beside him, he seemed so calm, so at peace. His sharp edges had blurred, softened by the look in his eyes as he gazed at Lily. And that was what he was doing, gazing.

It didn’t take her much to lean in, just one look from him was enough. Her body turned on the mattress as she shifted to reach his lips, her own brushing his softly. And then she moved to pull away, to see his reaction when he moved, his hand sliding to the back of her neck to drag her closer. His lips covered hers and by god, did it feel right. Lily’s hand came to rest on his chest as she kissed him eagerly, their mouths pressing together in a perfect dance, nothing too eager or too slow.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months.” Lily whispered when they broke apart, her eyes still closed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

She looked at him then. There was no trace of a lie in his eyes. She believed him, because of course she did. James never lied to her.

And then she tackled him against the bed and thanked the London Northwestern Railway gods for cancelling the last train home.

#jily fan fic #jily drabble #jily fic

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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years ago

Text

Deadbeat Pt. 3

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut, cursing, abandonment, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! This chapter introduces some new plots and conflicts, so it jumps around a little more than the previous ones.

I hope you all enjoy!

I also am having some writer’s block with my Obi-Wan Kenobi miniseries I was working on, so expect Part 3 sometime Sunday hopefully! So sorry for the delay on the final chapter.

Tags and Requests are OPEN

Part One // Part Two

Henry Curtis was one of the most infuriating people Lee had ever met. Curtis was a writer for the Columbus newspaper and constantly pestering the Sheriff. Curtis seemed to have a sixth sense for whenever the Sheriff did anything. He was desperately trying to catch the Sheriff doing anything but so far had remained unsuccessful. Curtis was the biggest obstacle Lee faced in winning re-election. The man would show up out of nowhere, pen and pad in hand ready to find anything that would be enough to keep the Sheriff out of office.

Maybe Curtis was just doing his job, but Lee always felt like it was much more personal. It was probably just his own resentment of the man who was just doing his job. But the man didn’t have to be so goddamn invasive. When the Sheriff had devised his plan on offering to rent a room from you, he was so tied up in his own mess of divorce and his somewhat confusing feelings towards you he had completely forgotten about the press. They would have a field day with the divorce alone, but now on top of everything else, Lee knew he should be more careful.

Lee always had to be careful, especially if he was meeting Leroy Brown. Lee would make sure he drove way out of town, and always insisted they met at a different location every time. This would infuriate Brown but Lee was the only lawman he had working for him. Sometimes Lee would drive several hours out of the way, always at some deserted ghost town or some sad excuse for a diner or a bar. Always somewhere no one would recognize him.

Lee lied to you and told you he and a few of the deputies would need to drive out of town for a stakeout when he needed to meet with Brown. It was one of those nights, sitting in the cruiser with the headlights off, as he parked in an abandoned parking lot almost two hours out of town.

He had been able to put this off for a couple weeks, lying about other legitimate jobs getting in the way. Honestly, it was because he wanted to one, avoid anything that would cause suspicion from Henry Curtis hearing he was back in town and two, he was selfishly allowing himself to just spend his nights at his new home, spending all the time he could manage with you. It was like being in that little white house was a place where he could let himself be delusional, and time spent with you was what his life actually was, not this mess he was currently dealing with. He wanted out.

Lee knew he wasn’t a good man. He knew that his laundry list of offenses had tarnished his badge a long time ago. He knew what he was doing, and before he never cared. Now, he’s thinking about how his actions could affect you. You were innocent, unaware of everything he was stuck in. He knew you weren’t stupid, and he was sure the town knows some about his corruption. But now, he couldn’t rationalize away his actions for any reason when it came to you. Janie? She didn’t care and would encourage it. She’d be in on it too. She’d have no problem lying to ladies at Church or starting other rumors to keep the town talking about anyone but Lee. She was as power hungry as he was sometimes, which could be a testament as to how their loveless marriage held together for so long.

***

“Hi, I’m looking for a Ms. (Y/L/N)?” the man asked when he approached you, talking a seat at one of the barstools.

“Who’s asking for her?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“I’m Henry Curtis, I work for the Columbus Dispatch.”

“The newspaper?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why are you looking for her?”

“I’m doing a story on her mother’s marriage to Harvey Tucker.”

“She’s not here tonight. But I can let her know you were here. Do you got a card?”

The man pulled out a business card from his wallet and slide it across the bar. You picked it up and read all the information before putting it in the pocket of your apron.

“Seems weird for the Columbus paper to want to do a story on that a month and a half after it happened,” you said skeptically.

“We did cover the story when it happened,” Curtis informed you. “Doing a follow up since the story broke about his wife missing.”

“Missing?” you ask. “Do they know what happened?”

“Robbed the bastard blind and then ran apparently,” Curtis said casually looking past you at the chalkboard on the wall. “Scotch, neat.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, grabbing the bottle from the shelf. “Has anything else been found out yet?”

“Not yet, that’s why I’m here. Checking in to see if she’d come back here because I heard Ms. (Y/L/N) still lives around these parts.” He then pulled a newspaper out of the inside pocket of his coat and started flipping through the pages.

“She has another kid too, right?” you asked, playing dumb. “A boy, I think. Do you know where he is?”

“Couldn’t say,” he sounded very indifferent, “Most likely went with her but who knows? I went to the Sheriff’s office to see if they knew anything but the Sheriff wasn’t there.”

“That’s too bad,” you say. “I’m sure Sheriff Bodecker would help you help if he can.”

Your statement made Mr. Curtis chuckle, but you didn’t follow up on it. You were just focusing on getting as much information about your mother and brother as you could.

“Speaking of Mr. Bodecker,” he began, “I recently saw his wife is getting remarried. Saw the announcement of the engagement in the paper.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” you respond, skeptically. You didn’t know why but you didn’t trust this man. It was something in the tone of his voice, or maybe it was just how he held himself. Very polished, a suit and a nice dress jacket. He looked very out of place in this town, and this little bar.

“You familiar with the Sheriff at all, miss?”

“Not too well,” you shrug, “Haven’t had any run-ins with the law myself.”

“Not even a speeding ticket?” He asks, only a little condescendingly.

“Can’t get a speeding ticket if you don’t have a car,” you point out.

“Touché,” he chuckles before taking a sip of his drink.

He doesn’t ask you anymore questions, and when he leaves, he gives you a five-dollar tip.

***

Lee receives his cut from Brown. There was nothing new to report on that front and his meeting went by smoothly. All Lee had to do was to turn a blind eye, and make sure the rest of the department stays unaware of the brothel’s existence. Brown always insisted on meeting with him, wanting to know what the Sheriff’s department was investigating and making sure his businesses stayed under the radar. He felt sick, and is preoccupied with the fact he has an envelope of dirty money in the cruiser’s glovebox.

It’s around midnight when he pulls up to the house. He expects that you’re already asleep, but he notices the lamp is on in the living room. He takes the money out of his glovebox and tucks it away into the inner pocket of his jacket. Coming inside, he finds you on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the business card Mr. Curtis had given you. You face is stained with dried up tears, and you still haven’t even changed out of your work clothes.

“What’s that?” he asks, the sight of you breaking his heart. He winces because he comes off a lot harsher than he meant.

“Some reporter came while I was at work wanting to talk to me,” you explain softly, you sound exhausted. “Wanted to talk to me cause he’s doing a story on my mother. Apparently, she’s on the run from the Columbus police.”

You extend your hand to give Lee the card. He feels his jaw clench when he reads the information. “What happened?” he asks, taking a deep breath and sitting down next to you.

“I pretended I wasn’t me,” you say, another tear rolling down your cheek. “He came in asking for me so I said I’d pass his card on. I didn’t want to tell him who I was because he didn’t explain why he was looking for me at first. I don’t know- just scared me. I’m more upset about the news itself than him.”

“You did the right thing,” Lee said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. He was angry, but he didn’t show it. It worried him, fucking Curtis snooping around this close to you. It made him feel protective, wanting to shield you from the whole ordeal. He had been on the receiving end of unsolicited attention from the press and he knew how ruthless they were. He knew this wouldn’t be the only time Curtis would try to get in touch with you. He’d find out where you lived, he’d continue to show up while you were working- the whole nine yards. He didn’t want you going through that.

Curtis talking to you also made him incredibly paranoid. It was his two worlds that he desperately wanted to keep apart were colliding. He knew it was impossible, but he so wanted to keep you separated from the other part of his life. It wasn’t who he wanted you to see. Hell, he hasn’t even been here for a month. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep you in the dark, at least that wasn’t entirely intentional. Actually, he wasn’t sure, maybe it was intentional. However, it wasn’t just you he wanted to hide aspects of his life from. He wanted his involvement with Brown and others hidden from every goddamn registered voter. You were no different, he tried to rationalize. But that wasn’t true. These feelings he harbored for you, were getting worse. He needed to unwrap himself from this situation, and for the sake of you finding out he was a shill, keep you away from that asshole. He didn’t want to let himself think about how the way you look at him would change.

And here he was, making the situation all about him. It was in his nature.

“He’s just going to show up again if I don’t call him,” you say, wiping your eyes. “Maybe I should just call him in the morning. Just be honest and say I don’t know anything. He can keep coming around but nothing is going to change.”

“I can take care of it,” he says. He couldn’t risk you talking to Curtis again. For all he knows, Curtis would tell you all about the story on the Sheriff he’d been trying to confirm for years. Lee knew he couldn’t let that happen. He fully intends on telling you, but how the hell do you bring that up? ‘Hey doll, I’m also on the payroll of every pimp and bootlegger in a ten-mile radius, just letting you know.’ It wasn’t going to come up, unless Curtis tells you about it. He’d be hoping to pull himself out if it, show you how you made him want to be better.

For now, he settles for comforting you, and just being there to take care of you. Make you feel better. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and lets you cry into his chest. He sighs, kissing the top of your head in a friendly way and you curl up against him. Under different circumstances, you probably wouldn’t have let yourself do this- show your vulnerability or allow anyone to comfort you like this. But it was all the events of the past month, your mother leaving, everything, just all hitting you at once, and you were happy you weren’t alone.

In the morning, you wake up on the couch with a blanket over you. You see Lee asleep in the chair, and you realize he stayed with you all night. It makes your heart flutter. You pull the blanket up over your chin and close your eyes again. You felt surprisingly well rested. The stress and worry were pushed to the back of your mind long enough to let you get some sleep. It still lingered in the back of your mind, but you reminded yourself that for now, there was nothing you could do. You had the day off, and you let yourself have a little longer time to sleep in.

You woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of sizzling on the stove. When you opened your eyes, Lee was no longer in the chair. You sat up and looked toward the kitchen, where you saw Lee with his back to you while he worked with the pans on top of the stove. The portable radio was positioned on the counter, and it was playing at a low volume, so it wouldn’t wake you up.

“Hey,” you say softly, still waking up as you walk into the kitchen.

“Morning, doll,” he says, glancing back at you for a moment. “How’re you feeling?”

“A little better,” you admit, grabbing a mug for yourself out of the cabinet. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, savoring the smell before making it how you usually take it. “Thank you for sitting with me,” you say honestly, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he says with a small grin. “I just wanted to help.”

“I really appreciate it, Lee,” you reiterate your thanks, hopping up to take a seat on the counter, watching him cook breakfast. “Didn’t know you knew how to cook,” you joke, making him chuckle.

“I’m full of surprises, sweetheart,” he smirks, making you feel flushed. You take another drawn out sip of your coffee to try to distract yourself. You watch his arms, and his hands as they maneuver and flex when he cooks. You imagine how they must feel, your eyes focused on the veins. You bit your lip and it reminds you of the dream you had a little while back when he first moved in. You imagine him stepping in between your legs as your propped up on the counter, his hands gently gripping your thighs and-

“I’ll get it,” you announce hurriedly as you hear someone knock on the front door. You hop off the counter careful to not spill your coffee, and head to answer the door. Lee watches you bounce out of the room, fixing your hair as you go and you don’t catch his smile.

“Arvin,” you say surprised, stepping out onto the porch. “What are you doing here?” you ask, with a small grin. You’re confused but nonetheless happy to see him.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” he observes, concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say dismissively, “Just last night I was thinking about my ma and everything. Just had trouble sleeping is all.”

“The Sheriff didn’t do anything?” Arvin asked in a hushed tone, looking over your shoulder to see if Lee could hear you two.

“No, nothing, he’s been perfectly fine,” you say coming to the Sheriff’s defense. “I know you and Ms. Russell are worried, I know how it must look- but Arvin I swear he’s just my tenant. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.”

“Just making sure,” he says, letting it go for now. “Lenora asked me to bring these by for you.” He hands you the glass baking dish that you can see is filled with homemade cinnamon rolls. “She’s been practicing making all kinds of baked goods for when the Church does that bake sale and has me running all over town giving it away cause me and Uncle Earskell can’t keep up with it all.”

“Tell her thank you for me,” you say with a smile, “And I’ll bring the dish with me to Church tomorrow- give it back to her.”

“She misses you I think,” Arvin says sheepishly, pushing his hands into his front pockets. “I mean- I do- I think my whole family does- we all do. I’m sorry my grandmother hasn’t asked you over in a while…”

“I understand,” you nod. “Reputation is an important thing.”

“I just didn’t want you to think it was because of us,” he says looking down at the porch, his eyes fixed on a loose board. “You know how she is- everything no matter the context is somehow a sin. Scared to death of her own shadow…”

“I know you’re not that resentful, Arvin Russell,” you chuckle and he relaxes. “And I don’t hold any hard feelings towards anyone in your family- you all have always been good to me.”

“Well, um,” he says awkwardly, looking like he was holding back from saying more. “I got to hit a couple more houses before I head to work, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at Church?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Oh- I wanted to let you know,” he says, turning around as he’s already heading down the front steps, “The principal down at the high school is looking for secretaries- Lenora heard and thought you might be interested. It pays like $35 a week, I think. You should call Linda Carson; I think Lenora said- that’s the woman who’s in charge of hiring people, I think.”

“I’ll call the school first thing Monday morning,” you say, grin stretching from ear to ear. Arvin nods and says goodbye again. You walk back into the house like you’re on top of the world. You couldn’t contain your excitement. That job if you could get it would be a dream. You’d be making so much more than you’re already making. You were so excited.

“You’re in a much better mood than when I last saw you,” Lee jokes. He’s sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper while he eats his breakfast. You notice that he made you a table setting- brought your coffee over and everything. You place the baking dish in the middle of the table and sit down.

“That was Arvin,” you say happily, and Lee feels his heart sink into his stomach.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, trying to not let on how his heart feels like it’s crushed. He knew it was only a matter of time before a boy would come around- whether it be Arvin or someone else your own age.

“Well, first he was just dropping off baked goods Lenora made,” you say gesturing to the dish on the table. “He’s going around to everybody, I guess. He mentioned the high school is looking for office secretaries- Lenora wanted me to know. Thirty-five dollars a week! I’m going to talk to Linda Carson about it Monday morning. Can you imagine? I could get a secretary job.”

Lee feels just a crash of relief wash over him. He’s so happy that you are looking at a new job. You deserve better than that bar. He knew you deserved the job just as much as any of the other candidates. You work harder than anyone he knows.

“That’s fantastic, sugar,” he replies. “You deserve it.”

“Do you think I have a chance?” you ask, feeling a little self-conscious- you knew you weren’t as experienced as other candidates would be for sure.

“Of course, I do,” he says, putting down the paper to give you his full attention. “I feel like you getting this job is a definite. There’s no doubt about it.”

“You’re just buttering me up,” you scoff, finishing up your food, making him chuckle. You may have also seen his cheeks redden, but you couldn’t say for sure. You finish off your coffee, and then bring you dishes back to the kitchen, leaving them in the sink. Lee turns his attention back to his newspaper and you head upstairs to get ready for your day.

When you head upstairs, Lee notices that you took the radio with you- and he could hear you were listening to music from upstairs. He decides before it’s too late to ring Mark Cunningham. The line rings a couple of times before Mark answers.

“Cunningham.”

“Morning, Mark. It’s Sheriff Bodecker,” he smirks.

“What can I do for you Sheriff?” he asks, the sound of shuffling paper comes through as well. Most likely flipping through the paper.

“I wanna call in that favor you owe me,” he says, casually pacing the living room, holding the receiver up to his ear and the base of the rotary phone in the other.

“Of course, Sheriff,” he says. A while back, Bodecker busted the principal making moonshine in his old barn that was at the end of his property. Lee looked the other way and was waiting for the right thing to call in a favor for.

“I want you to hire (Y/N) (Y/L/N) for the secretary job,” he says, looking to the stairs, making sure you aren’t coming. The music is still playing loudly from upstairs so he determines he’s still got time.

“That’s all?” Mark asked surprised.

“That’s all I want from you,” Lee replies. “I expect you can make that happen?”

“Without a doubt. When can she start?”

“Still have her come in for an interview. I don’t anyone else knowing I called you about this- including her.”

“Done.”

With that, Lee hangs up the phone, feeling really good about this decision. He knew how much that job meant to you- he could see it in your eyes and how excitedly you talked about it. He can’t wait to see you when you find out you get the position. He knows it’s going to make you so happy. He knows you’d be a fantastic candidate, but this just eliminates any doubt. He reasons that there isn’t much difference, since you were very likely to get it anyways. He just had to make sure.

He can picture you know, coming home from the interview- excited to tell him that you got the job. You’d be so excited you’d jump up and hug him tightly, just so overjoyed that you let your feelings take over. You’d wrap your legs and around his waist and he’d hold you up by holding the back of your thighs. You’d wrap your arms tightly around him and bury your head in the crook of his neck. You’d lift your head up to look at him, embarrassed at your actions and then he’d press his lips to yours. You’d gasp softly, but your lips would melt against his own and your arms would wrap tightly around his neck. He’d walk forward, pressing you up against the wall and he’d kiss your neck mumbling praises of congratulations against your skin as his name falls from your lips at how good he’d make you feel. It’s almost unbearable how bad he wants you.

He heads to him room to get ready for his day, but his mind is still clouded with thoughts of you. He thinks about how much he wants nothing more that to just pin you on his mattress. He wonders if you know how crazy you make him. Sometimes there’s something in your eye that makes him think you want him too, but he’s not sure. His better judgement holds him back from everything he wants to do. He thinks about how it must feel to have his head right in-between your thighs. Back in the kitchen together, he wanted to just get on his knees and worship you. The feeling of them pressing against him as he sucks on your clit and runs his tongue across your folds.

Serval hours later, he can’t shake the thoughts, even sitting in his office at the sheriff’s station- working on a Saturday yet again. He’s cooped up in his office, unable to get through any of the paperwork that has piled up on his desk. He’s thinking about you, again, but in this daydream, you’re bent over his desk- because you came by to see him on your break from work at the school. His office door locked and his blinds pulled so he can bend you over and take you right there- rough and fast, sending you back to work with a feeling of him still there between your legs well after you’re back at your own desk, still sore from the encounter.

“You got a visitor, Lee,” the intercom on his desk lights up.

“Send ‘em in,” he responds back, shaking his head to snap out of it. He needed to get a grip.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” you say, walking into his office. His eyes widen and he wonders if he’s still day dreaming. He discreetly pinches himself. You’re actually here, standing in his office, while he looks at you dumbfounded. Part of him would think he manifested it if he was a man of any faith. “You forgot this,” you say, putting his wallet on the desk. “You must have taken it out of your back pocket before falling asleep in the chair last night. It was laying on the coffee table. I figured I’d stop by with it while I was coming up this way anyways.”

“You’re a doll,” he grins, putting his wallet in his back pocket. “What are you doing?”

“I took the bus to the library to return some books, and now I’m going shopping for something to wear when I go in for an interview since I have the day off to go,” you explain. “I’m also probably going to get lunch after that before heading back home. I just didn’t want to be home in case that reporter stopped by. I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”

“I can take care of it,” he says, “He’ll make his way over here soon enough. I can talk to him.”

“You would do that for me?” you ask, the relief evident across your whole face.

“Yeah, I can talk to him, let him know you gave a statement here,” he says. You nod. “You know as much as he does, so it doesn’t matter if I tell him you don’t know shit or if you tell him.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you sigh, so relieved thinking that you won’t have to hear from Henry Curtis again. “If he tells you anything about them… will you let me know?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you say, hurriedly walking over behind him and quickly hugging his shoulders. You then are back by the door again before he can register the gesture. “Are you going to be home tonight?” you ask, your hand on the doorknob.

“Not until late,” he says reluctantly, and he can see the disappointment on your face- unless his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Okay,” you say finally, “Um, I’ll see you later then.”

“Bye, doll,” he says when you walk out of his office.

Are you going to be home tonight? Your voice lingers in his head. It was such a harmless phrase that could’ve just been one of curiosity. Maybe you were just asking because you were thinking about what you were doing for dinner. It most likely just meant nothing. But, the look on your face when he said no makes him think otherwise. Did it mean you cared? That you wanted to spend time with him? You wanted to see him and be with him as desperately as he needed you perhaps? Just the phrasing itself makes his brain feel like putty. It’s like you’re waiting up for him. It’s like you share the house in a way that’s much more than just him renting a room from you. It’s like you’re his and he’s yours. It’s like saying our house… our home. The question was so intimate and implied so much more about how you saw him and what he was to you. He knew seeing him as how he saw you was next to impossible, but you saw him as more than the Sheriff and more than just the jerk living in your house.

Part Four

Taglist:

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01 @rosalynshields @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #smut #the devil all the time #angst #lee bodecker x y/n #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x reader

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ceescedasticity · 3 years ago

Text

coaxionunlimited said: I’m curious about Interlude: Hypatia in medjed can hack your brain, however much or little of it you want to do

Okay, let's see...

Wakaba was never going to get used to accessing cognitive space — the Metaverse — with a phone app. It did not make sense.

I've mentioned this before but there's a fic called, let's see... Sufficiently Deep Magic by shai which includes Futaba trying to work out wtf is up with the app, and which inspired some of the thoughts on it here. Here's a quote from it, Futaba speaking: "“It’s not just that it’s surprising – if some research lab went off and secretly made a machine that could transport people into someone’s subconscious, that’d be surprising! Lots of people would read all the papers written on it and not get it, but it’d make sense that you could do wild stuff with cutting-edge tech. Doing something like that in a mobile app that works on all three major phone operating systems, though, that’s not just unlikely, it’s totally 100% inconceivable. Those systems are known quantities. When you write software to run on them, it can only ask the phone system to do stuff that phones can do: display this picture, make these sounds, get this information off a web page and show the user, make a call, whatever. It chooses from a list of possible things, and literally travel to another dimension is absolutely not on that list.”"

(Accessing it using the rift generator in the lab had been bad enough. Yes, it had supposedly been thoroughly tested, and Wakaba herself had programmed in failsafes in the power supply to shut it down if it ever started using more energy than was necessary for a strictly local distortion — but it was based on tech that almost took out a city.)

(…Or, actually, tech that some experimenters almost took out a city with, and wasn't that just the problem.)

This is a Persona I/II reference -- the DEVA system. I haven't actually played/watched P1 or P2, just read up on them.

(Sometimes she wondered if she would have pursued cognitive psience if she'd realized how very un-theoretical it could get.)

There is just such a massive gap between 'look at this cool math implying that thought is calculable' and 'now we will mind-control the city' or even 'monster summoning time!'

(But the point remained, Metaverse access from a phone app did not make sense, and further investigation had only led to the unavoidable conclusion that it wasn't a phone app, not really, but neither she nor Futaba were ready to say what it was. Futaba had elected not to mention it to the others. Sadly, investigating the source and purpose of a suspicious not-actually-a-phone-app was rather far down their to-do list, since they could at least be confident it had nothing to do with Project Styx.)

They can be confident of that because Wakaba was in Project Styx and knows what they're capable of and this is not included. The canon Thieves really didn't have any reason to be so sanguine about it!

(Honestly the magic painting made more sense.)

It really does.

She probably was going to get used to the way Mementos felt just that little bit more wrong than the museum, and yet simultaneously less… less… she'd find the words. Hopefully before she got used to it.

Mementos is more wrong even at the top because it's closer to Yaldabaoth. It is however less bonkers.

She'd come early with Futaba, Wakaba wanting to take some readings (the sensors were all piled in the hopefully-unnecessary wheelchair, with the tire iron and box of mockotovs), but they still weren't the first to arrive — there was a black silhouette sitting cross-legged on the floor as Mementos solidified around them, though she quickly bounced to her feet. "Oracle, Archive, good morning."

Re the wheelchair -- Wakaba may actually be feeling her real world physical conditions more than e.g. Makoto later in Collateral, or Futaba or Yusuke going well past their usual limits of endurance, because the condition leading to it was in large part cognitive. I'm not sure, though.

"Shade?" Futaba said, surprised. "What are you doing here already?"

"I wasn't sure if it would be a good idea to hang around the station for a long time, in the real world," Shade said. "For… conspiracy reasons?"

"No, I think that's probably fine?" Futaba said, and looked at Wakaba for confirmation.

"It should be," Wakaba agreed. "We don't think they know there's anything special about the location. Why?"

I'm not sure it's a terribly good idea to just sit around in Mementos either, even at the top, but not bad enough to have detectable consequences at least.

Shade was Hifumi Togo — a year older than Futaba and not a time traveler, so not even in high school quite yet. Wakaba felt reasonably well-acquainted with her and her Persona from the museum Palace excursions, on top of their brief meeting in Wakaba's Palace, and Futaba's somewhat disjointed account of the events since regaining her memory and more disjointed account of their interactions with Hifumi in the future. Hifumi liked shogi, science fiction books, and pointing out aspects of the museum that made Madarame look particularly bad, because—

"Apparently I can't be in the house without fighting with my mother this morning," Hifumi said, clearly trying for light but not really succeeding. "I thought she'd accepted the argument that I was focusing on high school for now, but apparently not."

"Oh," Futaba said. "Ugh. Well… hanging around the station is fine, probably. But since you're here, want to help us with these sensors?"

Evidently they were not discussing the Togo household at this time. Wakaba refrained from pushing.

(For the moment.)

Wakaba does have a pretty solid understanding of Hifumi. She would like the chance to try to talk her into doing something about her home life, but clearly the other kids have been getting nowhere.

It took extensive modification to get any kind of audiovisual recording working in the Metaverse, and Wakaba was still trying to recreate what the lab had managed. But the barometer, Geiger counter, and accelerometer all operated, sort of, and observations could be recorded manually. Barometric readings were just slightly higher than you'd expect for Tokyo's elevation, but lower than either of the Palaces she'd gotten measurements from. The accelerometer thought they were in free fall — in the Palaces the gravitational offset had been lower than it should have been. The Geiger counter reported negligible radiation, but who knew what that meant. Wakaba wanted to set up a seismograph — she'd gotten some interesting readings in the Palaces and wanted to compare — but that would have to wait until they weren't on a mission.

Canon has nothing about what any of these instruments would read in the Metaverse -- I made all this up. I didn't make the measurement instruments up, though.

A barometer measures atmospheric pressure, and normally goes down with increasing height (as well as with fluctuations in the weather!). Wakaba was expecting the Metaverse to have lower pressure than the real world, if anything, but the measurements are coming out higher -- just barely at the top of Mementos, to various extents in various Palaces, and if she checks at the bottom of Mementos the barometer will say they're at deep-sea levels. Fortunately none of their bodies seem to agree with the barometer, as no one is getting the bends when leaving Palaces and they don't require a pressurized chamber to survive the depths.

Accelerometers at rest on Earth's surface should read 9.8 m/s^2 up. In free fall they read 0. In Palaces she was getting readings under 9.8 but still up -- as if they were standing on a smaller planet with less gravity. Top of Mementos, free fall. If they take measurements farther down, it will show acceleration down -- as if gravity is in the other direction. None of their bodies think this is happening, either.

So for pressure, real world < top of Mementos < various Palace and Mementos Paths at different levels < Mementos Depths. For experienced gravity, real world > Palaces > top of mementos, which according to the accelerometer is free fall, pseudo-zero gravity > anywhere lower in Mementos, where experienced gravity is getting negative. But, again, this is according to the instruments -- no one feels any of this.

I'm not sure what the seismograph (earthquake detector) readings were showing, but I'm sure they were very interesting.

That's it for now, probably more later.

#start again fic #writing babble

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wolveria · 4 years ago

Text

Inside Your Wires - Chapter 1

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Summary: Assigned all cases involving android-related crimes, saddled with a prototype that follows him around like a plastic puppy, Detective Connor Anderson knows this must be karma for all the bad shit he’s ever done.

He thought he'd hit rock bottom, that he didn't have much left to lose, but he's proven wrong by the android sent by CyberLife. And Connor learns just how much further he can fall.

Prompt: For the @dbhau-bigbang 2020 challenge!

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

AO3

(Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet)

November 5th, 2038

Friday 11:21PM

The whiskey was harsh and burned like liquid fire as it slid down his throat. He dropped the shot glass onto the bar top and closed his eyes and savored the bloom of the cheap booze warming his chest. The music from the old jukebox behind him belted out tunes that would have been considered outdated when the place opened.

It was like this most nights. He was alone, exhausted, and well on his way to a pleasant buzz. The one thing Connor had going for him was that he hadn’t started in on his third drink until 11 PM.

That had to be some kind of record. On a Friday night, he was usually shitfaced by 10. Call it the long hours he’d been working, or maybe the fact he felt more self-loathing than usual, he’d somehow managed to hold off on spiraling until nearly midnight.

Definitely a record. And Connor deserved to celebrate.

When he tipped the glass with one finger and caught Jimmy’s eye, he nearly looked away in shame. The bartender had never given him shit before, at least in a verbal sense, but the cool stare he gave Connor now made him want to crawl into a hole and die there.

But Jimmy didn’t say a word, just gave him another dose of poison and turned away, leaving Connor in relative peace to enjoy the game. Denton Carter was kicking ass tonight, so at least there was that.

It was all going beautifully until the door opened and the sound of rain echoed throughout the tiny bar, along with a distinct smell of wet asphalt and dirty concrete. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw two of the other regulars shift in their seats to stare at the newcomer.

Not another regular, then. And by how lengthy the stares were and the sudden shift in atmosphere, Connor guessed the barometric pressure had taken a drop due to a pair of long legs and pretty eyes.

Turning his body only far enough to get a glance for himself, Connor was not disappointed, eyeing the stranger from their black dress shoes, up their shapely legs clad in dark jeans, past curvy hips and—

Oh.

Connor turned back in his seat, hunched over and grimacing in disgust, put there by the sight of a blue triangle on a lapel and a glowing armband around one arm. He hadn’t even needed to look higher for the LED to know what the fuck had just waltzed into the joint like it actually belonged there.

He nursed his whiskey, praying the thing would pass him by and leave him the fuck alone. Or better yet, Jimmy would throw it out.

No such luck, of course.

“Detective Anderson,” spoke a smooth, raspy voice to his right. “I’m the YN800 model sent by CyberLife.”

He elected to ignore it. Maybe if he did so for long enough, it would take the hint and go away.

Again, Connor’s luck was not holding out.

“I called your cell phone, but you didn’t answer,” the voice continued, unimpeded. “I then looked for you at the station after checking your home, but you weren’t there either. Your colleagues indicated you tended to frequent the bars in the area, and I was fortunate to find you at the fifth one.”

His eye twitched. This thing had gone to his apartment?

“Well, here I am,” he answered, dry and caustic as he stared straight ahead at the wall of bottles. He calculated how angry Jimmy would be if he took out his service pistol and shot it through the head.

Pretty angry, Connor decided. It would probably leave a stain. Also, he didn’t want to compensate some asshole company for property damage.

“What do you want?” he finally growled, scratching his nail into the bar top already marred with various scuffs and dings.

“You were assigned a case earlier this evening. A homicide.”

Already, a headache was forming between the eyes at the sound of the android’s irritatingly friendly voice.

“Yeah, and?”

“It involved a CyberLife android,” it said in that same smooth inflection. “In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.”

You have to be shitting me.

Connor grit his teeth and clenched his glass tighter, a flush of heat moving through him that had nothing to do with his blood alcohol content. A fucking android was sent to help cops do their job?

Fuck that, and fuck this hunk of junk.

“Good for them,” he answered as he tipped the glass up to his lips. “I couldn’t give less of a shit. Now get the fuck out of my face. We don’t need any help, especially from a plastic pair of tits like you.”

He should have known that wasn’t the end of it. The android spoke again, adopting a tone of what it had probably been programmed as “sympathetic.”

“I understand you may be experiencing reluctance to having an android’s assistance in this matter, but I am—“

“—ruining a perfectly good evening, butting your nose where it doesn’t belong and sure as fuck isn’t welcome.”

Connor put his glass down harder on the bar top than he meant to, nearly spilling his drink.

“I suggest you leave before I void your warranty.”

Connor thought the machine got the message when it finally went silent. He could even see its mood ring spinning yellow out of the corner of his eye before it settled on that annoying placid blue.

He’d just brought the glass halfway to his lips when it said, “I’m sorry, Detective, but I must insist.”

Connor set the glass back down and started to count to ten. He couldn’t lose it now, he’d promised Jimmy he wouldn’t break anything else after the last brawl he’d gotten into.

But the fucking thing just kept on talking.

“My instructions stipulate that I have to accompany you.”

“You know where you can stick your instructions?” Connor growled before downing the glass of whiskey.

It was a good thing he had, because its next words made him choke on spit.

“No. Where?”

Connor set the glass down, and for the first time that evening, fully turned toward the android and stared at it.

The damn thing was staring back, head slightly tilted like a curious puppy. It had large eyes to match the image too, earnest and innocent and entirely too sincere. Its attire at second glance wasn’t the typical android faire. A smooth grey android jacket and a dark, patterned tie marked it as something different. Unique.

And just a little too pretty. Every designed, group-focused imperfection on its face made it that much more appealing. Its hair was neatly coifed, pulled up and pinned behind its head, exposing the smooth curve of its neck.

Hanging down the left side of its face was a strategically-placed lock of hair that Connor immediately want to twirl his finger around. He suspected that was the point.

The further down Connor’s eyes traveled, the more he lost his train of thought. The perfectly sensible tie was lying on the slope of its breasts, something even the jacket couldn’t cover. Why the fuck androids had breasts to begin with, Connor couldn’t begin to fathom, and it seemed even more ludicrous now seeing them on a “specialized model.”

The android hadn’t moved apart from its artificial breathing, another thing about the machines that was uncanny. They weren’t human, and the fact CyberLife kept trying to pass them off as such was a goddamn insult to humanity.

He met the thing’s eye, gave an unimpressed huff, and went back to nursing his drink. If the fucking tin can didn’t understand a dirty innuendo, he certainly wasn’t going to ruin its pristine, virginal programming.

Connor doubted everything that had just gone through his head as those unnecessarily realistic tits were pressed against his elbow, without warning or any sense of decency or a concept of personal space.

“How about this, Detective?”

Connor fumbled, nearly spilling his drink, a massive what the fuck! warning flashing in his head as the machine pressed closer.

“I’ll buy you another drink, on the house. Surely that’s worth a few minutes of your time? And if not, you can send me on my way.”

Connor couldn’t speak with that voice right into his ear like a close confidant, sultry and low and borderline pornographic, so it was a good thing the android didn’t bother waiting for a response.

Instead, it turned to Jimmy and said in a louder, more normal tone, “Bartender, another round for the detective, please.”

Jimmy turned from where he was cleaning glasses on the counter, eyebrows shooting upward as he looked from the machine to Connor. It had backed up a few inches, but there were a lot of reflective bottles on the wall. Connor wondered just how much Jimmy had seen.

Connor gave a little helpless shrug as if to say, Don’t look at me, I don’t know what the fuck it’s doing!

But when the damn thing actually brought out real paper money and set it on the counter, Jimmy got moving. Seemed he wasn’t picky about where his money came from, and Connor almost resented the fact he hadn’t thrown the android out on principle.

Who the hell gave it money in the first place? CyberLife? What, did they hand it a few bucks of allowance before letting it off its leash?

Despite all his reservations, and there were a great many of them, Connor was not about to turn down a free drink. Or two.

“Make it a double,” he grumbled, purposefully avoiding the android’s focused gaze. He could practically feel the thing staring into the side of his head, but at least it remained at a distance and wasn’t pressed against his side like a drunk, horny badge bunny anymore.

“Thanks, Jim.” Connor took the glass and tipped it back, drowning it in one go. The slide of the familiar burn down his throat, spreading throughout his limbs, did quite a lot to help ease the tension in his muscles.

He released a heavy exhale, pushed away from the bar, and got to his feet.

“You want to play plastic cop? Okay, then. Keep up,” he said, tilting his head in its direction without actually looking at it. “Or I’m leaving your ass behind.”

Connor didn’t wait for a response, only raised his hand in parting to Jimmy, and pushed open the door to let the rain-drenched Detroit night swallow him whole. But even through the sound of the rain pinging off the hood of his nearby car he could hear the even footfalls behind him, just a little too close for comfort.

Fucking androids.

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #detroit: become human #human!connor #android!reader #dbh au big bang #my writing #my fanfiction #inside your wires #i make connor suffer but he's gonna be hard about it

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