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league-of-thots · 5 years ago

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The Summoning

Pairing: dabi x reader x hawks

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: NONCON/DUBCON, blood play, dp, sacrificial summoning, mind manipulation, angels/demons/magic, gore, branding

A/N: So this was supposed to be a short little fic.... but thats not how it turned out, but im happy that it came out this way. I think its much better than what I originally had. Uh, please read the warnings because this has some things which could definitely be triggering.

thanks to @lady-bakuhoe, @ikinabi, and @marilla-eldriana for listening to me talk my ass off about it LMAO

other tags: @yaoyorozuwrites, @dee-madwriter

You were beyond upset, tonight wasn’t supposed to be a night where you were heading into a bar on your own, dressed up for a date cut early, and freshly out of a relationship. As you sat down at the end of a rowdy bar, you can’t help the tears flowing out of your eyes. You’ve been holding them in for a while, trying not to break down in public, but sitting here with nothing else to do, you can’t stop the small sobs that break out.

The bartender makes her way towards you, her lips turned down sadly as she starts cleaning up some glasses at the sink near you methodically. Your sobs die down as she starts speaking to you.

“Rough night, sis?”

“Yeah, you could say that again.”

“Need something to drown it out?” you nod as she goes to grab some heavy liquid you can’t recognize. Whatever it is, it smells rank, you think as you lift the shot glass up towards your nose to sniff it. You shoot it back, and shudder at the brief taste you get before you swallow it down, throat burning a bit as you let out a slight cough. She offers another with a gesture and you nod in response, quickly downing the second, and you nurse the third.

Suddenly, a man in a raggedy black overcoat sits down beside you, raising a finger as he asks for some type of sake, and says “One for the crying mess, too.” In a raspy voice. You don’t even feel offended, it’s true, but he didn’t need to say it so harshly right in front of you. Although you wouldn’t say no to the free drink, as you quickly drained the one that you’d bought.

“Thanks,” you mumble to him, the alcohol not really hitting you yet. You wipe the tears from your face. “What’s your name?”

“Dabi.” He answers shortly, grabbing the sake and tipping it back, watching as you do the same. “You’re new here, but drinking like you’re about to be enlisted. What’s up?”

Now normally, you wouldn’t be giving your life story to a random stranger who- quite frankly- looked like he belonged in a prison cell. However, normally you didn’t have four generous shots of heavy liquor coursing through your veins after having just broken up with your last boyfriend of just over a year.

“Stupid asshat of a guy dumps me after over a year of being together for some stupid reason.” You sigh, head in your hands. “I don’t even get why? Like I was so blindsided and I feel like such a fucking idiot.”

“Sounds like a real idiot,” Dabi replies, sliding you another drink which you eagerly accept, drinking it in a rage.

“Like, fuck, I’m just not ready yet! Like, yeah if he was hard, I’d help him deal with it. But I just didn’t feel ready for sex, and he kept trying to force me, and when I get mad at that I’m the bad guy.” You’re starting to get a little dizzy, but at the moment, you’re so upset that you can’t really be bothered by it. You just want to be angry and heartbroken and drunk for a little while. So you don’t really have to face moving out of your shared apartment until later, tomorrow at the earliest.

“Was it a one-off thing? ‘Cause that’s a bit of an overreaction if that’s the case.” You’re so happy to have someone to vent too that you don’t notice the intent expression Dabi has on his face, you miss the way his body leans towards you eagerly waiting for an answer.

“Well, no.” you shift a bit uncomfortable in your seat. “But he said he was fine with it! That he was alright with waiting.”

“Well obviously he was lying. You must’ve been really stingy with sex.” You shouldn’t feel that hurt by a stranger’s words, especially when he has no idea about who you are and what your story was.

“I just didn’t want my first time to be forced onto me.” You mumble, looking into your glass. You were starting to feel the dizziness from the rapidly consumed drinks. “I wasn’t ready for it.” You could feel the tears welling up again, not even bothering to try and stop them.

“Makes sense. So, you’re a virgin then? And your boyfriend wanted to have sex and you didn’t so he broke up with you?” The odd phrasing of the questions didn’t even stand out to you.

“Yes! Except he said it was fine and I believed him!” you wail out, you’re crying hard now into your arms that are lain on the bar top. You feel a hesitant hand patting your shoulder rather awkwardly, but his hand is really warm and you feel a bit better at the soft contact.

“Sounds like a real idiot to me. You want another drink, doll?” he says softly into your ear. His breath tickles your neck a bit and you giggle a bit as you sway on your stool.

“I don’t have the money! Ahaha… I’ve gotta save it now because I have to move out of the stupid apartment.”

“Don’t worry, I have some money to spend. What better way to spend it than on a pretty girl, hmm?” You blush a little at the attention. His blue eyes are intense and you can’t keep eye contact for long with him.

“I mean, if you’d like too, I won’t stop you.” You hum.

“Alright then.” He gestures to the bartender, a dangerous grin on his face. You thought that you’d be spending the night alone, but you’re glad to have been proven wrong.

The two of you nurse some drinks as you talk a bit, most of the talking done by you, the alcohol loosening your mouth as you tell him a lot of your time with your ex, and whatever random thought pops into your head. He doesn’t talk much, but it’s not really off-putting as he usually interjects with sarcastic one liners and small questions, nodding as you continue your stories.

It’s getting later in the night and you’re blissfully drunk, unable to process the shitty feelings and how terrible you feel. Dabi seems to notice this and gets one of those grins he gets when you say how bad you want to fucking deck your ex in the face. It makes your heart beat in excitement.

“You’ll do shots with me, right?” You nod, excited. Dabi orders six drinks, and you feel yourself tense in sudden apprehension. That’s a lot considering that you’d already drank a few… how many was it now? It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. He seems to notice your hesitance though.

“What? Can’t handle a few shots?” his smile is teasing, but his words are daring you to agree with him, and you bristle in response.

“Of course I can!” part of you is screaming at you, telling you how bad of an idea this is, but its easy to drown out in the haze of your mind.

“Good, you can try to keep up with me then.” He shoots down the first without even warning and you scramble to catch up with him, grabbing the glass sitting in front of you, and tossing the drink back. You’re coughing a bit, the harshness of the shot winning against your already weakened and sensitive throat. Boldly you grab the next and shoot it down as well.

That might’ve been a mistake, because you splutter more, you can barely think, and you feel like you’re choking on the air you’re breathing in. Dabi’s face looks concerned as he asks you if you’re alright. You can only shake your head in response, knowing that you can’t possibly try to talk like this. He sees you swaying and clutching your now stomach as it rolls nauseatingly.

“Don’t worry, this is on me, I thought she was alright with them.” He’s speaking to the bartender, who looks worried and a little suspicious given his appearance, but his voice sounds like its in the end of a long tunnel to you. You accept being pulled into his arms as he leads you outside for some fresh air, he’s produced a bottle of water, and opens it one handed before handing it to you.

You try to thank him but that goes terribly, as you start dry heaving when you open your mouth. He has a sad, but un-surprised look on his face as he takes in your motions. If you were focused enough you probably would’ve said he looked satisfied, but that doesn’t make sense because he has no idea who you are.

Suddenly, everything starts spinning and you vaguely feel Dabi place your arm over his shoulder. You close your eyes, desperate to try and stop yourself from vomiting all over the man who was trying to help you. It’s your main focus as you lean almost all of your weight onto him and drag your feet across the pavement. You don’t know where he’s taking you but you can barely think much less stop him and you continue to keep your eyes closed, not worried at all.

Dabi couldn’t believe his luck meeting you. He’d just finished the final touches on the circle, he was practically all set up except for the link, the sacrifice. Of course, he’d been planning to go into bars to find the perfect person for his ritual, but he didn’t think it would’ve happened so quickly! He’d expected it to take months, and what a relief it was that it hadn’t! He can barely contain his excitement as he keeps your form tight to his body.

You were so naïve, so trusting, latching onto the first person that offered you kindness. Getting drunk on your own in a rather sketchy bar on a Saturday night, what had you been thinking? He knew you’d had a shitty day, but getting drunk at home surely would’ve been the superior option, anyone could see that.

It’s a decent walk to his place unfortunately, he knows that the usual 20-minute walk will likely double with you barely able to stand, much less walk quickly. So, he sighs and reminds himself exactly why this is so important. Why he’s even bothering to ‘save’ your pathetic form.

The runs and sigils are going to look fucking gorgeous carved into your body, he thinks, still dragging you along. You’re almost to the point of unconsciousness, he notices, and it might be easier for him if you were unconscious. At least then he wouldn’t have to be concerned for how he drags you. The pitiful whimpering noises are so annoying to listen to, so he moved slow enough that you could sort of drag yourself and not make those noises.

Dabi keeps running through the steps in his head, the rituals, the incantations, and the carvings…. He knew he was a powerful castor. He could only hope that the practice he’d put in, the training he’d put in and the beautiful and pure sacrifice he’d found would be enough to actually summon Satan.

He knows with the power boost he could finally rid the world of his wretched father. Could finally get rid of him and his stupid fucking followers and coven.

He’d take them all. And he’d win, he knew it.

He’s finally dragged you to his apartment, and at this point you’re barely conscious in his arms. Good, it would make the carvings so much easier with you unable to struggle. Plus, with the fact that the alcohol would cloud your senses so you’d feel less pain and make less noise. He wonders if you’re even going to understand what’s happening to you, if you’re going to cry out in fear and confusion. He can’t even lie, the idea of that makes him feel a warmth down in his core, makes him start to feel hard, god, he bets your screams will sound as pretty as you are.

He has one of the only basement rooms in the apartment, the other two abandoned because of how cold and dirty it is down there, plus there was only cold water that ran down in the basement. However, it was secluded and quiet there, and that’s exactly what Dabi needed in a place. Somewhere where he could lay low while he bides his time, planning and training and waiting. He wasn’t originally a patient person, but he’d learned to be, and it was something that he was proud of.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to explain to any of his upstairs neighbours why he’s dragging you across the lobby to the back set of stairs that only lead down to the concrete hall downstairs. He’s gotten a pretty large space in his basement room, especially with the way he’s completely emptied his living room. The couch is pushed against the wall, table and tv also against the wall leaving a large rug on the floor. The lucky part was that he didn’t ever have a ton of possessions, so it was rather easy for him to make the circle on the floor and cover it with a large goat-skin rug.

He doesn’t have many chairs, only the ones at the small bar behind which his kitchen is located, so he tosses you onto the leather couch on your side in case you were to vomit. He can’t have you dying before he sacrifices you after all. He checks to make sure that you’re really out of it before he goes into his washroom to start cleaning himself and preparing his mind for the layers of spell he’s about to cast.

He’s started clearing his mind as he walks into his room, crystals glistening even in the non-natural light, as he starts to slow his breathing in a rather deep and slow pattern. He feels himself start to go into a state he can only get into when he’s concentrating on magic. All his troubles seem to slip away as he steps into the warm running water. He keeps the sigils he’s going to be needing soon in mind as he washes away all the dirt and grime from the bar, washing away all the petty crime to get prepared for something far, far worse.

When he’s towelled off, he puts on some cotton boxers, and soft grey pants, leaving himself shirtless in the chilling air. He feels the goosebumps start to creep up his arms as he grabs the old iron lighter, the only gift from his mother that he’d manage to take with him when he had to get out with his life after his father had found out what he’d done.

You’re pretty much asleep on the couch when he comes out, and he looks over you, your innocent form, so fucking pleased at the sacrifice he’d managed to snatch. Turning away, he starts to take out some candles that he has stashed in the wooden chest beside his couch, the colours he uses going to be black, purple and red.

After moving the carpet off, he places the candles in groups of three at the points and nodes of the circled star. Afterwards, he grabs the red chalk he has and starts to write the various Latin incantations around the circle. He ignores your soft snores, you seem to be mumbling something in your sleep, as he continues his work. It’s taking a lot more time than he’d like it to.

But soon enough, he thinks, it’ll all be worth it.

You feel yourself lifted into the air, your head spinning even before you even open your eyes. Where are you? What’s happening? You try to open your eyes, but it’s so nauseating and disorienting seeing the dark room spinning around, you’re sure you’ve never been in before. You feel yourself lowered onto the ground, rather roughly. You keep your eyes closed trying to wait out the dizzy spell as you hear the click of a lighter, and you shudder, expecting to feel a sting of burning flames.

But you don’t, and you hear the clicking a few more times. You start to feel a little more stable and you squint, trying to see what’s happening. You try and sit up, but you can’t with your dexterity hindered by the alcohol, and your wrists and ankles bound in ropes. You start to panic slightly, the last thing you can remember is accepting a few drinks from a man, Dabi wasn’t it?

“Oh, you’re up. That’s good, you need to be conscious for this part.” Speak of the devil and there he shall appear. You feel a surge of fear as you turn your head towards the man.

“What did you do? Why am I here?” you stumble, trying to cut through the fog in your head.

“More like what did you do? Who goes out on their own in a sketchy part of town late at night? You were practically begging for something bad to happen to you.” You notice that he’s half naked and you shudder, remembering what you’d told him before and you get a terrible feeling in your gut.

“No I wasn’t! I just wanted the night to not be complete shit!” You desperately search for anything in your reach that you could use to get yourself out of this situation. You can’t even roll away, you notice that there are iron pegs nailed into the ground and you are tied to those. You want to cry, you don’t know what you did to deserve this.

“Well, you should’ve just stayed at home,” you hear a knife being pulled out of a holder, and in the corner of your eye you can see Dabi heating the blade against a large gas flame. It’s a twisted knife, the three sides a blue and black metal with a small skull on the end of the hilt. The metal is glowing red hot at the parts where it had been heated though.

You squirm away from him as much as you can in your restraints when he kneels in front of you with the knife in his hand. “Stop fucking wiggling, It’ll hurt you more because I will nail you to the fucking floor if there’s a chance of me messing these up because of you.” You stop your motions, not wanting whatever’s coming to be made worse. So instead, you start screaming as loud as you can for help, the desperation in your tone evident.

He just throws his head back in mad laughter at that. “Keep on screaming! I haven’t even started the fun bit yet baby! Nobody can hear you down here you know? It’s utterly fucking pointless for you to cry for help. But please go on, it makes me feel soooo good.”

You feel your eyes widen in horror looking at the man’s face. He’s still oddly attractive, the flames giving his face sharper shadows, making him look almost inhuman. You’ve never wanted to disappear from someone’s gaze so badly before.

You shudder as you feel his cold hand push you over and down on your stomach. How are you supposed to get out of there when you’re lying on your stomach with him pressing his weight into you.

You are mid thought when the first lick of iron hot metal is brought onto your back. You cry out in surprise and pain, the knife tugging at your muscles and you can feel the ridges it has. Tears spring to your eyes, but it doesn’t seem to hurt as much as you would’ve thought, it must be all the alcohol still coursing its way through your system.

You can’t focus on the words he’s murmuring as he continues to slice designs with purpose into your back. He laughs whenever you let out a vicious scream and you can’t see his face but you can tell he’s enjoying the process immensely.

“Shirt’s getting in the way of the rest of it sweetheart, guess it’s time to take it off now.” He’s so smug which makes you feel humiliated as you press your head into the ground trying to put yourself together. You whimper as you feel your shirt lifted and hear the fabric tearing.

You’re now shivering half naked on the cold concrete floor and starting to lose your grip on reality as the pain sends you drifting in and out of consciousness. You feel sharp pain as he starts designing up your spine, humming a bit as he goes. Why’d you have to meet a psychopath tonight? Wasn’t your luck just so shitty lately.

You lose track of time as he works, you’re pretty sure that you lose consciousness for most of it, but luckily Dabi doesn’t wake you up for it. However, when you do come to, you notice how badly your throat hurts, you must’ve been screaming a lot for that to happen.

“You ready for the front now? Then we can finally get the real thing started.”

“Please, isn’t there enough? I don’t want anymore stop please! Just let me go.” You try pleading with him, knowing it’s probably not going to work. He doesn’t even deign you with response to your pathetic attempt. Instead he flips you over, your hands now positioned up above your head.

Your limbs feel like lead, and you feel as if all your energy has been draining out of you along with the blood that’s come oozing out of your wounds. You can’t move, you’re stuck and all you can do is look at the man doing this to you and seethe in anger and hatred. His eyes seem to be burning with bright blue flames, but surely that must be you hallucinating? People’s eyes don’t glow.

“Finally,” he breathes out as he leans back and admires his handiwork. He’s looking at you with blown open eyes, erection prominent and you can see the outline through his sweatpants. “Now it’s just to call him while I carve my name into your chest. You’re gonna spell it out for me, got that doll? Or else I can start working on the other bits of skin.”

You just want it over with at this point, you’ll go along with his idea just so you can finally get out. “Fine.” You whisper, resigned to it at this point.

“D.” He must’ve heated up the knife again, because it burns more than it did before and you scream your throat raw as he carves this much deeper that the other markings.

“A!” you screech, hoping it ends soon, at least he has a short name.

“B!” your voice cracks in your agony and your chest is aching.

“I!” you sob, tears streaming down your face again as feel your body go completely limp as you succumb to darkness once again.

Dabi tries to get his breathing in control, looking at your broken and bleeding form. He’s never felt this aroused by someone, and he was right, your screams were like an orchestra playing the most beautiful music he’s ever heard.

But that was a bonus. It was time for the summoning, and so it was time to focus and go through it. He slices his left palm, your blood mixing with his before he lets it spill over, mesmerized by how it drip, drip, drips onto the stained concrete. One last incantation that he has to say, and he hasn’t been this excited since he’d first found out he was a castor, and that he was a pretty powerful one at that.

He waits anxiously in silence, eyes on you as more blood oozes from all the markings, there’s thin linking of red all around the cuts. He wishes that the sacrifice didn’t require a virgin because he desperately wanted to take it from you himself.

Lost in his thoughts, the sudden burst of wind that erupts from the centre of the circle, from under your form blows out all the candles.

“Well, aren’t you an ambitious one. Trying to summon Satan all on your own.” Dabi jerks around at the lilting voice from behind him, somehow, it’s both amused and condescending at the same time, and Dabi bristles at it.

“You aren’t powerful enough to be him, I didn’t summon you.” His teeth are grinding in frustration.

“So rude, and we’ve only just met! Look kid, you don’t have the power or the numbers to summon Satan right now, but I’m the highest-level under-creature you could get.” His eyes seem to glow gold in the darkness, they light up his sharp features.

Dabi lets out a growl with a few curses. “Whatever, that doesn’t matter, I knew it was a long shot. You said you were the highest I could get. How high is that?” His grin is devious as he hears the question.

“I’m Hawks, fallen angel at your service. As for how high I am? I’m in the 5th level range.” Dabi whistles at that. “So, does that mean you’re going to strike a deal with me? I haven’t gotten a serious one in a while. It’s getting seriously boring down there.”

“You should be able to lend me the amount of firepower I’d need for it. What are your terms, and how does the transfer work in your deals?” he grins showing off his fangs a bit as he cages Dabi in a bit despite being shorter, wings making him seem much larger though.

“Here’s the fun part, because I’m a fallen angel, it works a little differently! My powers got corrupted so that sacrifice you have there – oh she’s an actual virgin! – is going to be your ticket to my powers.”

“So, I have to keep her safe?”

He shrugs, “You asked, I’m just telling you friend. Obviously, the price is the same as any other deal.”

“Obviously.”

“So, you’re prepared for that? Hell isn’t as nice as you’d think.”

“No shit Sherlock, but don’t worry, I’ve thought it through a fair bit.” Hawks laughs at that.

“Alright! Since my fall was lust based, the power transfer is too, if you catch my drift.” Hawks says with a raised eyebrow.

“….sort of?”

“Oh my god, are you an idiot?”

“I don’t want to hear that from you, chicken man.” Dabi just wants this over with, he’s getting a little antsy. “Can we get started already?”

“Alright then, time to wake up sleeping beauty over there.”

You feel yourself being blearily shaken awake, and you’re shocked to see a different face than Dabi’s in front of you. He’s gorgeous, and his wings, despite being an eerie dark red, are full and look so soft. Blearily, you try to reach up to try and feel them, forgetting that your hands are tied to the peg on the floor. The man looks at you with pity and amusement.

“Hey there, I’m Hawks, are you ready to become a human magic battery?” he says cheerily, words much at odds with his words and expression.

“What, no, what’s going on? Please there’s a man here – Dabi – and he’s kidnapped me! You have to help me out, call the police, why are you smiling?” You feel the tiny bit of hope that had grown up come crashing down as you observed the – man? Angel? – who called himself Hawks.

“Yeah, my friend Dabi and I have a little arrangement here. You know what I am right? You should know that struggling is useless. Just lay back and enjoy the ride, baby.” His eyes pierce your soul and you find yourself unable to even think of a response to that.

You don’t even completely realize what that means until he starts nuzzling your neck as his hands go towards your tits, starting to play with your pebbled nipples, his hands surprisingly warm.

“No please, I don’t want that…” you say weakly, completely spent already from the ordeal that Dabi had put you through. “I just want to go home!” you’re so delirious from pain and the small bits of pleasure you’re trying to pretend aren’t happening at Hawks’ toying with you.

“Too bad little bird, you don’t really have a say in the matter at the moment.” He bites down on your neck hard, drawing blood which he then licks up. “So, fucking good! Haven’t been able to do this in so long.” He’s grinding into you, the layers of fabric bringing you stimulation and pleasure as you moan, immediately tensing up in embarrassment and shame.

“Don’t be like that, I always make people feel good like this, so just relax.” His eyes are glowing and as you look into them, you feel yourself relaxing a bit. Maybe you should relax, he definitely knows what he’s doing, you can feel the heat building in your core and your hazy mind start to lose focus. His eyes, are just so fucking beautiful, and the way his fingers are moving feel amazing.

He turns his head down, lapping lightly at your breast. His tongue is warm, but the metal stud on his tongue makes you moan out in delight.

“Oh so you do like it!” he exclaims brightly. “Let’s get this started now baby.” Your mind is still screaming at you that this is wrong, that you don’t want this, that you need to struggle and get free. With all the distractions in your mind, its so deliciously easy to fall into a hazy daydream like trance as he licks up the blood from your wounds. His tongue makes it feel so, so good. He switches breasts, tugging on your nipples as you mewl in delight. Once you let go, everything was so much better!

He sucks bruises onto your hips, nipping at them with his sharpened fangs. “Oi, don’t enjoy yourself too much there Dabi, you gotta go a round too after.” You turn to see Dabi stretched out like a cat on his couch, his cock out of his pants as he languidly strokes it. It’s pierced and you find yourself imagining how it would feel scraping your walls.

There was only one thing bothering you, and it was that everywhere Hawks touched grew hotter and hotter, not in an unpleasant way, more in an antsy, wanting to move and run mood. You felt like you were vibrating and you didn’t understand it. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care as your jaw dropped when the angel ripped off your bottoms harshly.

“Let’s see if you taste as good as the other humans I’ve devoured.” He rips the ankle restraints as he tosses your knees over his shoulders and licks a stripe up your pussy. You shudder at the new sensation, biting on your lip to stifle your moan.

He sees that as a challenge and spends his time tasting your juices along his tongue, his eyes seemingly brighter as he works at your pussy, teasing your clit with his tongue stud. He keeps working at you with single minded determination, teasing your hole with his sharp nail and you let out a squeak, which quickly turns into a groan as he slides his finger in. He adds a second as soon as he can, loving hearing the sounds your pussy makes as he scissors you open.

You’ve never felt this good in your life, you can barely tell what’s happening, but you feel waves of pleasure as you feel his tightening in your lower belly.

“You’re getting close, huh?” Hawks brings his face up, eyes lidded as he licks the juices around his mouth. “Do you want to cum?”

“Yes!”

“Well, I don’t know, you were pretty awful to my business partner over there… maybe I shouldn’t let you cum.” He brings his second hand up to his face, lightly scratching at his scruff, and you begin to panic. You have this insatiable need, you don’t know where it came from, but it’s not letting you think at all. There’s this voice yelling at you that it’s Hawks’ fault, but he’s literally an angel. How could he be doing something so disgusting to you?

So you open your mouth, “Please let me cum, I’ll be so good for you sir! I didn’t mean to be awful to him, I just didn’t understand what he was trying to do!”

“That’s fucking right.” There’s a sudden intensity in his eyes that makes you feel like your heart’s stopped. “You didn’t know what you were doing. I’m your guardian angel after all, and I came here because you were going to make a mistake that would put you in danger.”

“Oh my god…” the horror you feel chokes your throat, yet it doesn’t rid you of the incessant need that’s been plaguing you.

“Would your guardian angel ever steer you wrong, Y/N?” he grabs your chin, nails cutting shallowly when he presses.

“No, you wouldn’t!” you shake your head, trying to convey exactly how much you were repenting.

“So, listen carefully little lady. This is important.” He waits for your assent before he continues. “You’re in a very dangerous spot, so I needed a friend here to help you out, he’s going to keep you nice and safe. All you have to do in return is let yourself have some fun, some pleasure in your life. I mean, you’re begging for that exact pleasure right now.”

There’s a little niggling at the back of your head, it’s telling you how good you’ll be treated, you’ll be loved and accepted. You start to shake it off, but you can’t when it tells you that nobody will ever make you feel good like this, who would want too? Here you have two beings ready to make you feel good like you’ve never felt before and you’re denying them?

“Of course, that sounds like a great idea Mr. Hawks.”

“Alright, what a good girl, see Dabi? Isn’t she great?”

“I knew I’d gotten lucky, but I didn’t realize how lucky until now.” The grin on his face is satisfied, but as you look longer, the more you see the pleasure and happiness he feels too.

“Do I get to cum now? You keep saying how good I am…” you don’t remember thinking about saying that, but the words seem to come out on their own accord.

In response Hawks goes back to your neglected pussy and starts thrusting his fingers into a spot inside you that makes you gasp in surprise. With all the swirling emotions and pain and alcohol you feel yourself tighten and let loose quickly, hitting your high in ecstasy. Your back arches, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you notice that your shoulders have definitely been scratched up badly.

But why care when you feel so good now?

Your eyes are closed as you lie there, battered and cut and so blissed out as Hawks removes his pants and looks around.

“You didn’t bring lube?” he directs the question to Dabi.

“You need that? I thought you had like, magic and shit.”

Hawks swallows his annoyance, “I’m in a mortal form dipshit. Channeling divine or corrupt energy is hard to do without fucking blowing myself up.”

Dabi just shrugs. “I mean to be fair; I didn’t know I was getting some angel that got kicked out of heaven for being horny. Or else I definitely would’ve bought some.”

“Whatever,” he mutters. “I like this way better.” You hear the conversation, but can’t be bothered to really understand what they’re saying. All you know is that you feel someone leaning above you.

Hawks takes a feather from his wings, carefully turning it in his hands. “Now, I’m not going to lie, this is going to hurt a bit. But I’ll make you feel so good you won’t even remember it, alright?” You nod along blearily, barely hearing him.

He grins and slices a long line right above your hip, and you barely feel it being so numb. You do feel his fingers pressing into the cut though, and you try to squirm away, but that just makes him slam you down with his other hand in a surprising show of force for his physique. It feels so wrong when you feel him wiggle his fingers a bit inside your skin, and you shut your eyes so you don’t have to see it. Apparently, that amuses Dabi, who starts guffawing off to the side somewhere. The pain brings up all off the fear you’ve been feeling the whole night, and it shocks you. You start screaming, begging to be let go hysterically while you see Hawks, his hand covered in your blood, fisting his length, mixing some of the precum with it.

“I thought you said you were going to behave.” He growls and you feel an intense pressure on your mind for a second before your fear starts to fade away easily. “Much better.” He says to your relaxing form.

“You gotta teach me how to do that,” Dabi comments, which just has Hawks rolling his eyes.

“Shut up and let me enjoy this, I haven’t had sex in so long, warlock.” That elicits a snort from Dabi as he settles back down.

He lines up his cock with your slick entrance, teasing a bit as the blood and your juices mix together and it lets him start to work his way inside of you. You’re panting, fingers scrabbling at everything they can reach as he pushes through. You feel a mix of pain and pleasure as he pushes all the way into you. He surprisingly lets you adjust, breathing heavily as your walls squeeze intensely around the intrusion.

It feels so, so good though and Hawks can tell that’s how you feel as he grins and moves your legs up and around his hips. You whine as he stretches you out more with the new position, and he grunts a bit as he starts thrusting his hips, dragging his sharpened nails down your side without breaking the skin. He puts his head to your neck, pressing open mouth kisses there that make you relax around him, and as soon as he feels that change, he starts pounding into you harder. You hear lewd noises and realize that most of them, are in fact, coming from you. Which is a little jarring of a realization but in your state, you can’t really say it surprised you. It was more of a ‘huh, that’s me then’ moment.

The sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room along with grunts of exertion and moans of pleasure from the pair of you. You can feel yourself building up to that point once again, and you don’t realize it until you’re clamping down on his cock with a shout of pleasure. Hawks groans at the sound, and feels your tight walls somehow clamp down on him harder and starts bucking into you, nails digging into your hips as he chases his own release.

Had you been in any normal state of mind, you might’ve found it disturbing that Hawks seemed to be murmuring a bunch of Latin as he pounded into you. You might’ve noticed the hand he placed on your heart left a searing imprint that turned dark red. You might’ve noticed his pupils contract into slits and his eyes turn a deep red for a few seconds.

But you didn’t.

You felt like you were floating, and figured if this could be compared to anything, it would be a more painful version of a wet, fever dream.

Suddenly, Hawks comes inside you and you feel the warm liquid fill you up as he thrusts a couple more times, working himself through it. He stays inside, but that’s not what takes your focus. The feeling that you were vibrating without moving was back with a vengeance, but you also felt this numbness that started from your core that moved outwards until your entire body was feeling that way. As Hawks pulled out, you felt so empty, you felt like you didn’t know what to do. So, you let your eyes drift shut while you heard some talk about ‘a transfer’ and ‘both it her.’

Suddenly, your wrist bindings were also stripped off and you look up in surprise to see Hawks with that same feather setting you free, while Dabi moved to the bedroom.

“You still going to be good for us, little lady? We’re almost done for tonight.” He coos at you, lightly stroking your chin with his finger. You give him a small nod, and with that, he picks you up as if you were a stuffed toy and you lean into his shoulder as he brings you to the bedroom.

“Right, at least you’re prepared already so we can get into this quickly.” Hawks says brusquely, bringing himself to the bed and setting you down before he sits as well.

“You were enjoying yourself a minute ago, what’s with the sudden rush?” Dabi’s eyebrow is quirked as he puts his hand in your hair and starts scratching your head. You shamelessly sigh in appreciation.

“My times running out, gotta get this transfer done soon or else we’re going to have to start over another day.” Hawks grouches. “Damn I don’t miss all the rules, but having unlimited mortal form time? That’s something I miss about upstairs.”

Turning his attention to you Dabi says, “Here, you enjoyed that guy, so you’ll love sitting on my cock.”

Right now, nothing sounded better, so using the last of your strength, you crawled up to his lap and he guided you right above his dick. He brought you down slowly, ever so slowly, and you felt every inch of his dick inside you, especially those piercings that gave you an amazing sensation.

“There’s a good girl, much better than before,” he gets out.

“Now you’re going to need to relax, alright Y/N? It’s going to feel really tight at first but you’ll feel great afterwards.” Hawks is mumbling this into your neck, playing with your hair a little bit while he does.

“I can do that,” you say, unaware of what he was going to do, but ready to please him.

“Good, Dabi you might have to distract her a little bit, she’s pretty tight for one person, let alone two.” Dabi smirks but leans back, starting to play with your nipples a bit. You never thought you’d like the sensation of someone swirling around them, tugging them at some points, but here you were, enjoying every second of it.

You get so into it, that at first you don’t notice Hawks lining up with your entrance and starting to work his way back into you. Dabi actually does first, shuddering at the contact of Hawks’ dick against his own and gasping a bit.

“Oh Dabi, you were so cocky a minute ago, what’s wrong now?” You hear the teasing from behind as you desperately grip onto Dabi’s shoulders, trying to stay relaxed so it doesn’t hurt as much.

“Fuck off, chicken.” Is his only response which Hawks cackles at as he starts to push further in. You gasp at the painful stretch, tears welling out of your eyes, as Hawks reaches around you to play with your clit to distract you.

“Doing so good, sweetheart, just a little bit more, can you do that for me?” he nips at your ear.

“Yes,” you gasp, the pleasure from his rough finger movements distracting you a bit from all the pain as your breathing gets shallow. “Slow down, please?”

“That’ll just make it worse,” he says. “I’m just going to get it over quickly, alright?” you don’t even have time to agree before he shoves the rest of his way in, screaming out as it happens. You feel so fucking stuffed, and they haven’t even started moving or anything.

Dabi’s losing some of that composure he’d had before, cussing as he tries to steady his breathing, but you feel his cock twitching inside you. You’re losing the strength you have in your arms as you lean forwards onto Dabi’s chest, and you moan as the shift in movement gives you friction on your clit and in your pussy.

Without really knowing what you’re doing, you press kisses onto the side of his neck as you lie there, trying to get used to being this stretched out. It wasn’t going to happen tonight that’s for sure, because you’d barely had anything up there until today.

You feel a grip tighten on your hips as one of them, at this point you have no idea who, starts moving in and out. The other goes the opposite rhythm so that you always feel so completely full you feel like you’re going to burst. The thought comes unbidden into your mind that these two sadists might actually enjoy that. It makes you shiver in fear.

You can’t really remember what happened, but you have specific feelings and recollections of the two fucking into you,

…Dabi hitting your G-Spot over and over again as you see white and cum hard on his cock…

…Hawks leaning over you to grab Dabi into a rather passionate kiss as he got you to play with the raven-haired man’s pierced nipples…

…Your ass getting spanked so you clench down on them and Dabi comes, but stays inside until he gets hard again…

…getting toyed with in every possible way, bites and bruises marking your skin so much that you feel light headed from blood-loss…

…you remember clawing at Dabi’s back which has him screaming in pleasure…

…Dabi’s eyes glowing blue, as if he’d had flames trapped inside them and they were ready to come out…

…pleased laughter and an uptick in pace…

…then nothing…

Dabi lays back, breathing heavily as your form is slumped on his chest. He wasn’t surprised you’d completely passed out a little way into your second round. If anything, he was surprised you’d managed to last that long. He was wiped after one, but that was mainly because he was trying to keep up with Hawks, who had the fucking endurance of something otherworldly.

Which made sense given he was a magical being.

Still it peeved Dabi to no end as Hawks slid out of you looking completely untouched as he did so. The only thing that was out of place was his hair, messed from Dabi grabbing it, which he hadn’t remembered starting but it was sometime when he was making out with Hawks… which he hadn’t expected… but he wasn’t complaining.

Although no matter how drained Dabi felt physically, magically? He felt so fucking ready to take on anything that could happen in the future. He could feel it pulsing around his body, in his fingertips and temples, and it felt amazing. He understood why so many people went with summoning darker entities for power transfers now, much easier and much more potent.

“So, I have to be here in person to do my whole mind-manipulation thing, so you should think about how to keep her safe for now. She’s tied to you because of the transfer so like, if she were to die for example…. You’d definitely die too.” Hawks says with a cheery smile.

“You didn’t think to mention that before?” he gets a shrug in response.

“You didn’t ask. Oh and, for every time you need a power boost, just take care of her and let her enjoy the sex, it’ll ah – flow easier if you catch my drift.”

“Thanks oh angel of a good dickening… what would I ever do without you?”

“No seriously, the more your conduit enjoys the sex, the more you get out of it.” he looks unamused.

“Oh. Ah, well that’s good to know.” Dabi has to start planning out his next moves then, keeping you healthy and happy was going to be a tough job.

“I did make the suggestion to her that I was her guardian angel and you were helping her out, try to play up that angle, it’ll call up some of the residual magic in her mind and make her… more pliant.” Hawks starts putting on his clothes once again.

“Uh, thanks. Is she just a constant source of your power then?” That’s the only part Dabi was still confused about.

“No, I’ll be back when I feel the energy start to dwindle. I need you to do all the terrible things I know you have planned. Your soul will be fucking delicious then. Any who, see you later Dabi! It was an absolute pleasure doing business with you.”

He vanishes like he came, suddenly disappearing with a gust of air hitting Dabi in the face. Dabi looks down on you, still on his cock as he desperately tries to think about what he was going to do to keep you in here and how he’d keep you safe trying to hunt down another coven.

#bnha x reader #dabi x reader #hawks x reader #tw: noncon #tw: blood play #jays writes

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missmollybloom · 4 years ago

Text

New Fic: Couples Retreat

Summary: Two months after the phonecall from Sherrinford and Sherlock Holmes can tell that things haven’t been the same between the detective and his pathologist. With Molly pulling away from him, will an undercover case at a couples’ retreat be enough for Sherlock to show his pathologist that things can go back to normal between them?

(And, as it’s a Sherlolly fic, do you really think “normal” will remain “normal” for long?)

A/N: So here I am with another WiP. I’m trying a few new things. In terms of plot, I’ve never written a case fic before - so wish me luck! In terms of process I’ve actually plotted the whole thing out so (hopefully!) I shouldn’t write myself into writer’s block and should hopefully update regularly. Here’s to good intentions. I hope you like it!

Also on Ao3 here.

Chapter 1

Sherlock Holmes didn’t like change. Of course, this fact shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone. He was, after all, a man who had lived in the same flat for the past ten years, worn the same make and style of Belstaff coat for just as long, and once mourned his favourite brand of ball-tip pen going out of business by sulking on the couch for two weeks.

But the change which Sherlock found hurtling towards him this time was no mere inconvenience like the pens, or couldn’t be handled by stocking up on a cupboard full of identical coats. This change had the power of turning his whole world upside down.

So shaken was Sherlock by the news that it took John only five minutes in his presence for him to declare the detective’s mood so “un-fucking-bearable,” that he was banned from visiting John’s flat until he “pulled his head out of his arse.” Both of these statements were said by his friend mere moments before slamming the door in the detective’s face.

Sherlock couldn’t help it. So blindsided was he by the change that was coming upon him that he had no means to process it outside of the piercing verbal barbs he had flung at his friend. Barbs that were not received well and would, in any other circumstances, have led to a black eye or two.

Sherlock got off lucky – nary a bruise from John shoving him out the door - and only because John knew the one fact that Sherlock was only just discovering: If Molly Hooper left London, Sherlock Holmes would be lost.

Even though Sherlock had no idea before that day that Molly was even contemplating such a thing, there were hints that he missed.

Although he and Molly had been able to continue working together after the awkwardness of explaining that phone call to her, things in the past few months were decidedly different from before.

Molly, for her part, took his explanation well, understanding the situation Eurus had put him in. Nevertheless, there had certainly been a reserve in their exchanges ever since. Sure, she’d do the autopsies he requested, and would work late to run extra tests, but it was all delivered with the cool detachment of a colleague, none of the warmth he’d come to expect, value, even enjoy from Molly.

Even their companionship, the comfortable silence spent working side-by-side in the lab had evaporated over the last few months.

Earlier that morning, the morning Sherlock’s world fell off its axis, he strode into an empty lab that he could tell she’d only just vacated. At the time, it didn’t even cross his mind that she was making every effort to limit her time with him.

But now, as he lay on the couch in Baker street, reflecting on the day that was, he realised that she most certainly was.

---

Earlier that day, Molly heard Sherlock’s familiar voice echoing down the hallway outside her lab. On the phone to John, she guessed. She didn’t bother packing up before leaving through the side door, escaping before he could find her in the lab. She needed some air, needed some space, needed anything other than Sherlock Holmes, and Beppe’s café just down the road from Barts would do the trick.

Making herself scarce whenever Sherlock came around was a habit she had formed ever since the phone call from Sherrinford a few months ago. Of course she couldn’t keep working at Bart’s and never see him, it was, as Mycroft Holmes had called it all those years ago, Sherlock’s “home from home”.

Molly decided that she’d do what he needed for his cases but nothing extra.

No late night phone calls where he used her as a sounding board.

No walks through London like they had spent in the long nights of his recovery after the Culverton Smith case.

Certainly no invitations to eat takeaway in her flat.

Not that he had tried to resume any of their friendship rituals since that day, either.

What the detective didn’t see, or couldn’t perceive in all his intellect was that Molly was a woman in pain. Not for any lack of the detective’s observational prowess; rather, Molly didn’t trust herself to give him the opportunity to see her, had built a wall around herself so thick and although the cement hadn’t yet hardened into toughened concrete as yet, she knew well enough that time spent in Sherlock’s presence would only weaken the foundations, causing the wall to crumble and herself to be revealed.

That phone call had for a moment fulfilled every hope she had ever held for their relationship, only to have said hopes dashed with the sudden silence of the suspended phone line. Even if she kept a kindling of the flames alive for a few hours afterwards, his explanation was a deluge of rain, making it impossible to stoke the embers of her hope back to life again.

It was early morning the next day after the phone call when he arrived. He looked like shit and this was in the opinion of someone who had seen him after faking his death, had seen him hanging over a toilet bowl vomiting bile because his detoxing body couldn’t handle any food, had seen him at his lowest.

But his sunken eyes had seen ghosts that day. He’d also, she’d soon learn, seen her on a screen with a countdown timer that – with four men already dead at Eurus’ hands – gave Sherlock no reason not to believe counted the seconds ticking away in the final minutes of Molly’s life.

“I had no other choice, I hope you’ll understand and one day, even forgive me.” He had asked.

“There is nothing to forgive.” She had lied.

The phone call was an experiment, just as he had said. Just not his.

And the words, said twice and so convincingly, were mere lies to save her life.

How could she ever be so daft as to believe them to be true?

She needed time and space to rebuild from the ashes – which was becoming increasingly difficult with the frequency with which Sherlock had been visiting Barts in the last week.

But Molly Hooper had another plan. There was another way she could maintain her space and heal her heart.

---

Sherlock lay across the lounge at Baker Street. His hands were steepled under his chin as he replayed the events of the day again, scouring them for any hints at what was to come.

Sherlock was about to follow Molly out to her favourite lunch place when his phone rang. Normally, he’d ignore a call from his mother, but with the wounds wrought by Eurus’ reappearance from the dead still raw, he had softened of late in his treatment of his parents.

The recovered memories from his childhood now revealed why his parents had always fretted over him so much.

“Morning mother,” he began.

“Oh Sherlock, I’m so glad you answered. Are you well?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the P. “Is that why you called? Checking in on my health? Because it’s easier to text.”

“No dear, it’s Cheryl Williamson – do you remember her, from my square dancing troupe?”

“Yes,” he lied, without any attempt to sound convincing.

His mother continued, “Well it’s her son, James. Well actually it’s his wife Melanie. You see, she’s missing and I was hoping-“

“Solved it.” He cut her off. “She left him.”

“No! That’s just the thing!” His mother persisted, “They’d just been to a couples’ retreat.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. So far, so boring.

“Can you please look into it for me?”

He didn’t have the heart to say no. But he also knew how little attention he could give such a case and still count it as keeping his promise to his mother. Five minutes on the internet should do the trick.

“Of course I will.”

Sherlock hung up before his mother finished showering him with effusive praise.

He needed a computer, and he knew just where to find one.

Having succeeded in avoiding Sherlock earlier, Molly was shocked to find him in her office sat at her computer when she returned to Bart’s.

“Sorry. I had a case,” was his greeting.

“Won’t be long,” he added, all without looking up from the screen.

“Oh, that’s ok, I’ll just-“ Molly placed down her take-away bag from Beppe’s café on the desk and turned to leave.

“You can stay.” He said, gesturing to the visitor’s chair. “It is your office after all.”

As much as she wanted to leave, there was a not insignificant part of her that missed the companionship they used to share as they worked together in the lab. She opened the take-away tiramisu cake and started eating it.

“MrsDawson1976 isn’t a very strong password, Molly”.

“I’ll be sure to change it.”

“I would have pegged you for a Pacey fan, anyway.”

“I would have assumed you would have deleted all knowledge of American teen dramas from the 1990s.”

She should have left it at that, but it was Sherlock and he was on a case, so curiosity got the better of her.

“What’s the case?” she couldn’t help asking.

“Missing woman. Wife of a son of a friend of my mum’s.”

“What a good boy you are,” Molly teased with a wry smile. “Any leads?”

“Not a one,” Sherlock said, frowning, eyes scouring the screen for more clues. “It seems that she left early from a couples retreat four weeks ago and vanished, leaving no trace.”

This was where she would usually chime in. This was where she would have joined him on his side of the desk, standing so close that she could see the stubble forming on his chin, nose filled with the scent of him, a scent she craved and had to admit she had been missing.

But she didn’t join him.

Instead, she stood.

“Good luck with it,” Molly said, standing, punctuating her exit by throwing the empty cake container in the bin.

---

Sherlock watched her go. It was the longest time she’d voluntarily spent in his presence in months, and it had only been a few minutes.

He had seen in her a vacillation, a moment in which she may have come and helped him, but it evaporated in an instant, and Sherlock was left alone.

His searches for Melanie Williamson had yielded no clues. Her mobile phone was dead. Her accounts had not been accessed. Her car remained on the street where she’d parked it in front of her flat before taking the train to North Norfolk for the couples’ retreat.

The woman, it seemed, had evaporated.

Curious indeed.

Online avenues of inquiry all exhausted, Sherlock was about to turn off Molly’s computer when an email alert popped up. Normally, her inbox was full of messages from Mike Stamford, or questions from her various trainees, or subscriptions to online shopping sales from H+M or Topshop, her brands of choice.

He would have ignored all these. But not this one. This one he had to open based on the preview text alone.

From: [email protected]

Subject: Progress of your application

Dear Doctor Hooper, thank you for your interview on Zoom last week. We are in the final stages of reference checks and will inform you of our decision in the coming week.

Warmly,

Jane Harper

HR manager, Glasgow Royal Hospital.

Molly had applied for another job.

Molly had interviewed for another job.

Said job was in Glasgow.

This wouldn’t do. Sherlock strode out of Molly’s office and upstairs to the one man who could make sense of what was going on.

It turns out that Mike was in the middle of a call when Sherlock arrived, and from what Sherlock heard, it was the reference check that the email referred to.

“Hang up.” Sherlock declared.

“Sorry?” Mike said.

“Hang up!”

Sherlock didn’t wait, placing his fingers on the receiver cradle to cut off the call.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mike asked, face reddening.

“What do you think you’re doing, Mike? Molly can’t leave Bart’s!”

“She can if she wants to, mate. Do you know how many headhunters have been after her in the past 10 years? She’s said no to every single one.”

“But what has changed?” He asked himself, rather than Mike.

---

Having reviewed all available data from the day, Sherlock stood from the lounge. Taking his violin out of its case, he plucked at the strings, hoping the familiarity of the instrument would give him peace, help him understand.

He didn’t know how long he had been playing, or precisely what he had been playing, but from the look on Mrs Hudson’s face, it had been a while, and not necessarily music that was soothing to the soul.

“I need to sleep Sherlock,” his landlady had pleaded. “I’ve got the ladies coming over to play bridge tomorrow.”

In the past he would have snapped at her. In the past he would have taken out his frustrations on the wall or on the mantlepiece.

Instead, he stood, grabbing his coat and leaving without a word.

He walked for hours through the streets of London. It was a habit he used to do alone, but during his detox and recovery, Molly had joined him.

Over the course of a few weeks he had shown her all the cases he could remember, those details he hadn’t deleted or outsourced to John’s blog to keep an historical record of.

As he walked tonight, he wasn’t recounting cases, he wasn’t even focusing on the case at hand – the disappearance of Melanie Williamson. All his attention, all his mental energy was spent unpacking the curious behaviour of his pathologist.

It was obvious that Eurus’ little game, her emotional vivisection, was not without its cost. He could see that now, so clearly. Molly had withdrawn from him, and rightly so. But, if he was honest, he had allowed her to.

It would only take one visit to her flat with chips, one phonecall to chat through his thinking in a case, one day like the day they’d spent solving crimes together after his return from the dead and she would see what he already knew, that nothing needed to change, they could return to how things were before Eurus came and fucked everything up between them.

And that was the answer – a case – and one staring him in the face!

Two birds, one stone.

---

It was 5am when Molly awoke to a not unfamiliar sight of Sherlock Holmes stood over her bed.

“What is it?” she said, voice horse, eyes bleary.

“I need help with a case.”

Molly reached for her dressing gown, pulling it tightly around her as she sat up.

“Is there a body?” she asked.

“No.”

“Well, is there some test you need?”

“No.”

“Then what do you need?”

“You-“ a beat, the couplet had passed between them on a night completely different from this one.

Sensing the charged atmosphere in the air, Sherlock continued.

“Four weeks ago, Melanie and James Williamson attended a couples retreat in North Norfolk. Melanie left the retreat early and hasn’t been seen from since.”

“So what do you need?”

“I need you to go undercover with me at the retreat.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No – I’m sure you’ve heard the word before Sherlock.” Molly paced to the kitchen, putting on the kettle.

“I’m familiar with it, but I don’t understand,” he said as he followed her.

“I can’t drop everything and go chasing after white rabbits with you whenever you feel like it.”

Sherlock didn’t understand the reference.

“Alice in Wonderland, look it up sometime.”

Sherlock persisted in his questioning “Why not?”

“I’m not John. I’m not your partner. I’m your-“ Molly paused, stuck for words. “I don’t even know what I am Sherlock. But whatever it is it doesn’t entail being at your beck and call 24/7. I have my own life.”

She didn’t say it but he knew. Glasgow loomed unspoken between them.

He wanted her to stay in London, wanted to tell her how important she was to him, how he couldn’t do his job without her help. He wanted to say he was sorry that things got so fucked up by his sister. He wanted to commit to making things go back to just like they were before the phone call.

He was going to say it all, but the sound of a text alert from Greg sliced through the silence between them.

Sherlock read it, then showed Molly the screen.

James Williamson didn’t show up to work yesterday.

“Two people, Molly. I can’t go in there on my own.”

Everything he could see in Molly, the clench of her jaw, the intake of air sharply through her nose, the fingers balled into fists at her side told him she was about to say no.

Which was why Sherlock was so surprised when she agreed.

“Yes. I’ll go with you.” She said, “but I have some rules first.”

#sherlolly #sherlolly fic #missmollybloom writes sometimes

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hyperspacial · 5 years ago

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I Just Want You to be Happy

it’s missing Priya o’clock. I wanted to write a confrontation of my MC, Sveta, demanding to know why Bobby sent Priya home. This would be after day 17, when the girls come back from casa. Literally every run I’ve played turns into a Noah run, so fair warning, Sveta is pining for Noah in this one.

Warnings: Strong language

~2k

She didn’t even mean to go up to the roof terrace, her legs just carried her up there. Gary may have said something from across the counter as she walked through the kitchen, but she just silently made her way towards the stairs with the same blank look on her face, mouth pressed into a thin line. Gary and her needed to figure things out too, but that barely registered.

It seemed like she just appeared in the doorway of the terrace, silently standing, arms crossed tightly. To Bobby and Lottie it would’ve looked as if she was angry, but the pressure of her arms was desperately holding together her composure. They didn’t notice her for a minute, as they continued quietly talking while leaning against the railing. Bobby caught her eye first, or rather, caught isn’t the right word. Bobby felt her eyes boring into him and looked over his shoulder first.

“Sveta-” he said loudly, as much in surprise as a warning to Lottie, who quickly closed her mouth and frowned.Sveta started walking towards him, faster than necessary, and he put his hands up. She wasn’t going to hit him, or at least, that wasn’t the current plan.

“What your fucking game, mate?” She allowed herself to bark. She had a whole speech in her head that was rapidly dissolving.

“Sveta I-”

“Don’t come up here like that with him, I’m fuming too,” Lottie took a step forward. “You know how I feel about Gary and after the casa-”

Sveta took a sharp breath before turning to Lottie, her face softening.

“Love, I know, and we’ll talk. I promise we’ll talk. But I need to steal Bobby’s ear for a minute.”

Lottie rolled her eyes and started to say something when Sveta reiterated, “I promise, Lottie. You know I don’t lie to you. I need to have a proper chat with you, and Gary, and Noah, and basically everyone else in here. But I’ll come to you first. Please.”

Lottie stared at the space above Sveta’s head as she pleaded, and then shrugged. “Fine, we’ll talk later. Later tonight.”

Sveta nodded, smiling tightly, hoping to catch Lottie’s eye before she turned away and left. She had no such luck. She should’ve expected as much re-coupling with Gary, but… Lottie didn’t have a monopoly on that boy, and he had wanted to couple with her. Had said he just wanted to put all the villa stuff behind them and be a proper couple for a bit. That would be a feat to try and make Lottie understand, but at least her conceding a potential argument was a start.

Bobby had turned to face Sveta, running his lower teeth against his lip, trying to figure out why she was so furious with him. Noah had switched on her, Lottie was his current partner, he couldn’t figure out why Sveta was targeting him. Or perhaps, he had an inkling.

“Why, Bobby? Why. Just… Why?!!”

“I don’t-”

“We’ve always been good mates, right? I always give you a proper laugh, even if what you’ve said isn’t the funniest. I do it because I think you’re funny and we have a good banter, but… I also do it because I support you. I thought you supported me too.”

“I do! What are you getting at?”

“You sent her home, Bobby!” Tears that had been building now spilt out of Sveta’s eyes. Her ankles were starting to shake, which he hadn’t seen before, and when she noticed him looking she angrily kicked off her wedges. They were both silent for a moment.

“It was the right thing to do.”

“Oh was it? Was it the right thing to do?! I don’t understand your morality, then, Bobby. I thought the right thing to do is support your friends, to clearly tell people what you intend to do and then not blindside them. Priya had no idea! She told me she was relieved when you got to pick because she thought you two were solid-”

“As a friendship couple,” he couldn’t help but allow some of the petulance into his voice. He was frustrated too.

“As friends, Bobby. A friend would’ve given her the courtesy of an apology. An explanation. Something.”

“It was a weird situation, Sveta. No one knew going in that the singles weren’t going to all be sent home. I thought you and I might be both going home after Noah decided to bring Blake-”

“I’m not talking about Blake or Noah, Bobby. When they decided singles get to pick who stays, you made a choice to send Priya home. Over Hope?!? Hope, Bobby. She’s been super controlling and rude all summer.”

“I saved her for Noah, you know that.”

“That’s what I don’t understand, because you were the one telling me to go for him. You knew I liked him and encouraged that. You encouraged Priya too. I thought you supported us. We both were interested in him, and god has that been the one hitch in our relationship. First you, then when I didn’t want you and was kind of interested in Henrik she snapped him up, which was fine because Gary is so kind but then Priya and I both like Noah and-. And you know what, that was okay? Because she was such a kind person, Bobby! You knew that. She was the smartest, most beautiful, kindest person in here! We loved each other regardless of constantly competing, because we were both being fair to each other. Can’t say the same about you.”

“Sounds like you wanted to couple up with her,” he quipped bitterly.

“Maybe I would have! If she wanted it. But you coupled with her too. You know how wonderful she is. And you just sent her packing without a second thought-”

“It wasn’t without a second though, Sveta,” the anger had been rising since she mentioned Noah, and if she wasn’t going to bring him up he sure was going to. “I cared about Priya too, and I care so much about you. You risked everything to be with Noah- the viewer’s favor, your relationship with Gary, everything! And you gave him everything the night before you all left-”

“That’s not-”

“-and then he spent all of the time with the new girls pining for Hope. And then switching to Blake. He hasn’t even tried to talk to you, Sveta. How could you let him do that to you? I’d never do that to you.”

“I know! Okay? I know. I’m upset that he’s been icing me out for Hope and I’m absolutely humiliated that he let Blake go on like that. I’m angry with Noah, but I’m more angry with you because at least he doesn’t feel secure in how he’s feeling, but you do.”

“Sure seems like you’re angry at him, the look on your face when the producers announced that people from the least popular couples could be saved.”

“Yeah, I was excited. Because it meant my best friend wasn’t doomed to leave. This is as much about Priya as it is about Noah and Hope. And yeah, because it also meant I could get a chance to talk to him. I don’t know what Blake told him or what went on here but I wish I did!”

“You just keep giving him more chances, Sveta. When are you going to realize he’s not that into you.”

“You’re the one who encouraged me to go after him in the first place!”

“So that you’d see he’s not good for you!”

Her jaw dropped open in shock. His gaze fell as he realized what he’d just said. The sound of crickets and muffled chatter floated up to fill in the sudden silence, but Sveta could only hear the blood pounding in her head.

It was a few minutes before she spoke, the tears having stopped rolling as her fury froze deep inside of her.

“So that’s all this was for you, then. A game for me to lose interest in Noah?”

“It’s not a game, Sveta.” He said quietly, still staring at the ground, “I didn’t control how badly he’s been treating you.”

“So you kept Hope instead of Priya to keep me away from him.”

He took an even breath, “maybe. I just thought that he’s hurt you enough and if he was going to stay, at least he shouldn’t get to mope around and make you feel miserable because Hope left.”

“So what then? Hope and Noah are back together, the only girl who would have grown fond of you is send packing.”

He gritted his teeth, that comment cutting deeper than all the others. “Priya and I were just friends, and she’s not-”

“She absolutely was, Bobby. I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing. I don’t know- Actually I do know what you’ve been doing. I’m not blind, I can see when someone has a crush on me. I’ve told you again and again I don’t see you like that. And for some fucking reason you’ve still held on. Is that why you felt the need to orchestrate all of this, because you thought I would fall back in your arms and be excited about it this time?”

“I just want you to be happy.” He said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

“I don’t want you, Bobby. I might not want Gary, but at least he’s nice about it and giving me time and space to figure it out. But I don’t want someone who will encourage me to pursue someone to what? Test me? Show me that there’s no one in the villa for me? Think that you know better than me about my own goddamn feelings and relationships? What the hell, Bobby?”

He didn’t respond, tears in his own eyes, staring at the ground. She kept going.

“You sent home my best friend. Priya’s the only one in this house that I can trust to tell me what’s actually happening. I can’t believe neither of us saw this happening. And yeah, you know what, Noah is being an ass? I can’t figure out if him not stopping Blake from saying that or the sweeping cinderella shit with Hope pisses me off more. But for some reason, I can forgive him for it. I knew he was uncomfortable coupling with me, but I had the smallest thought that maybe if Hope was gone we could work things out and grow together. And you know, that kind of felt like a bone the producers were throwing. Because I haven’t connected with anyone in here the way I want to, Noah’s my type on paper, and he’s really sweet when we get the chance to be together. Gary’s such a sweetheart and he’s been supportive through all of this but I can’t escape the feeling that I’m settling. I just keep thinking he’d be easy to just recouple with like he keeps hinting at and maybe I’ll learn to love him as much as he likes me. I mean shit, after a whole villa full of new boys and none of them were right- maybe I’m not meant to find someone. I even had the thought at some point like ‘did I write Bobby off too quickly, maybe I can make it work?’, god am I ever glad that wasn’t true. I just… I cannot believe you thought this would be a good idea.”

“It wasn’t some sort of plot,” he said, pulling his eyes up from the ground to meet hers, a little surprised by the fire still burning behind them.

“Then what was it, Bobby? You told me to go after Noah, after I kissed him you supported me, and now you’ve kept the person keeping us apart and sent home my only friend to do it.”

“Priya wasn’t your only fr-”

“No? Because you’re sure as hell making it seem like she was.”

He exhaled loudly, not having the words or will to keep fighting her. He wanted to believe that she was just angry and venting at him, but some small part knew he deserved it.

After a long pause, she walked over to him. He looked up expectantly, heart suddenly racing. His mind flashed to what he’d last eaten, when he’d last applied lip balm, when-

Her voice was low and laced with poison as she stared into his eyes, “stay the fuck away from me. I don’t want to be your girl, and I certainly don’t want to be your friend.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, mind absolutely reeling, but she’d already turned and started to leave. He couldn’t muster anything to say as he watched her. When she was gone he just stood there, gripping the railing, shell shocked.

Seven minutes passed, and he was still glued to that spot when she walked back through the door. He turned hopefully, starting to say her name.

“Shut up. I just forgot my shoes,” she snapped, not looking at him. She snatched up her heels and left again. He didn’t watch her leave this time.

#litg #litg bobby #litg s2 #litg lottie #litg noah #litg hope #litg fic #yall mind if i h y p e r f i x a t e #i've played it through fully nine times now #you know how they say madness is doing the same thing over and over again #yeah that's me rn #sorry that my fics are so dialouge heavy #im used to writing stories for Episode and thats ALL dialogue #and then when i do write fics is not straight non-smut stuff soooooo #be kind to me lmfao

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ittybittytatertot · 5 years ago

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Can I talk about Catra and friendship for a second

So I finished watching season 4 last night (so spoiler warning for this entire post), and it was fantastic, moving the characters into both literal and figurative new territory. And that’s very true for Catra as well, who ended the season realizing just how bad of a friend she’s been and that she cannot count on others’ perpetual and undying loyalty. This leads her to ultimately save Glimmer (who’s been going down her own path of bad decisions and pushing away friends) and align herself with Hordak Prime to turn Etheria into a weapon.

While I have my own theories as to what this might mean for Catra’s future and the potential for her redemption vs. a further villainous spiral, that’s not what I want to focus on. Instead I want to talk about what this season shows us about how Catra views friendship.

And it’s. Really, really unhealthy. Even before Adora left, Catra viewed friendship as: everyone but Adora is, essentially, a sidekick, and Adora was Catra’s friend because they were loyal to each other, or more specifically because Adora was loyal to Catra, which earned Catra’s loyalty (which is why Adora becoming She-Ra broke Catra’s loyalty because it was based on Adora’s perceived loyalty to Catra.)

This ties into Catra’s many insecurities. Because she has always felt she wasn’t good enough but still longed to feel powerful and respected, she only sought friendship with people who would follow her. Catra views friendship as the relationship of a leader and a follower with affection going one way instead of being reciprocated because that’s how she saw her friendship with Adora (even if that’s objectively not how their friendship was).

Because of this faulty understanding of friendship, the onus of connecting emotionally is always on the other party, because if Catra went out of her way to care for her friends (without any justification of needing them for some end goal), then, in her mind, she would be ceding power in the relationship.

And for a while this worked okay. Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio were used to being treated like Catra’s sidekicks, Scorpia was even more of a rule-abiding, upbeat goody-two-shoes than Adora whose eagerness for friendship made her seemingly unfailingly loyal, and Entrapta never expected Catra to be emotionally available and instead bonded through science projects.

But, Catra kept pushing, because she was still obsessed with Adora and power and because she was convinced her friends would leave her. So she distanced herself even further from Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio, turning their relationship into purely boss and employee, and she kept testing Scopria’s loyalty, seeing how far she could push before Scorpia broke, convinced that if a breaking point existed it would mean the whole friendship is no good (which isn’t how friendships or people work but Catra doesn’t get that.)

And this is proved in the last season by Catra’s reaction to Entrapta trying to stop her from opening the portal and Scorpia questioning her judgement. Entrapta, who was fairly happy to go along with Catra’s plots, cared more about Hordak’s opinion than Catra’s. She was not purely loyal to Catra, which equated a betrayal.

Scorpia not unthinkingly obeying Catra’s orders also equated betrayal, but this was more complicated because after the portal weirdness, Scorpia was still willing to be around Catra, willing to even forgive Catra for the portal, which she clearly feels guilty about trying to open but refuses to admit she’s wrong. Scorpia, in Catra’s mind, could no longer be fully trusted, but at the same time, they had bonded (despite Catra’s misunderstandings of friendship) and Catra wanted to believe Scorpia would always be there for her, she could still count on Scorpia’s loyalty, if not to her, then to power and the Horde and her family’s agreement with Hordak.

This is what brings us to Catra and Double Trouble. In my opinion, Double Trouble’s betrayal blindsided Catra more than even Scorpia’s and hurt almost as much. Catra liked Double Trouble, liked their usefulness and humor, believed because they understood Catra’s character and followed orders that they liked Catra too.

And, counterintuitively, Double Trouble was more trustworthy in Catra’s mind than Adora or Scorpia or Entrapta, because they had a motivation Catra finally understood: money. Catra could buy their loyalty and that felt way more secure than tenuous emotional bonds that she has no idea how to maintain.

But, that turned out to be incorrect. Double Trouble was interested in self preservation in the form of following the winner not just money. This blow dealed double damage (pun intended) as not only was Catra betrayed and left alone again, but it was specifically because she wasn’t good/powerful/strong enough—playing into all her insecurities at once.

Next season, it will be interesting to see if Catra takes Double Trouble’s words to heart and learns how to have a healthy reciprocal relationship with someone or if she becomes even more destructive to herself and those around her.

#long post #catra #spop #spop spoilers #character analysis

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survivor-tierradelfuego · 4 years ago

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Ep. 12: “everyone is feeling pity for me...WHICH IS AMAZING” - Pedro

Najwah

I don't think I'm good at survivor lmao. I don't like what it's doing to me. Initially the blindsiding and voting put felt like nothing but it's getting so hard every day. I've known these people for almost a month now and I've grown so close to them. These feelings of paranoia and trying to go after people is just a lot. Also the idea of using people pisses me off. I told Cody and Sarah that my bond with Amy wasn't like that but they still felt as though they needed to try to get Amy "for the numbers" instead of trying to talk to Pedro or something - which annoys me. I don't want to use people for numbers. I don't want to use people at all. My perspective has changed completely. I'm still PLAYING but as I say repeatedly, my connections with humans is more important than an ego boost that comes with winning. Amy finally contacted me again after I asked her whether she was angry with me. She said yes bc I didn't choose her as my closest ally in the previous challenge. Thanks again James. So basically she saw I chose someone else, but she chose me as her closest ally. And I chose her as the person I trust the most and she chose Maddison? Am I not supposed to be mad at that too? I just miss her. We had such a fun friendship going. Now it's just scrambling and game talk with Sarah and Cody. It's a lot. I'm still not sure whether I want to tell Sarah about my super idol but I'm guessing Cody already had. That's why he's pressurising me to tell Sarah lmao. Also I'm not sure where their heads are at and how they feel about me. Whether they are just keeping me here because of my superidol. Either way, I guess I'm glad to be here.

Olivia A

Cody has been VERY enthusiastic about the fact that he wants to work closely with me moving forward. In this challenge, however, when given the choice to take away Pedro’s immunity or my immunity, he took away mine!! That was very telling that they are trying to pull Pedro in for numbers and don’t actually want to work with us lol. Kinda stupid of them.

Maddison

Pedro keeps scrapping by and is definitely now working with old Hanuha... Pedro! you’re on the bottom with them!! (and us too, oop)

Pedro A

okay everyone is feeling pity for me...WHICH IS AMAZING.....i can use that to get a little further in the game...even tho i still think my days are numbered....BUT I THINK WE MIGHT GET MADDISON´S ass out of game..its my only chance to stay lol

Aimee

I dedicate this song to Maddison! Alina Baraz - Trust https://youtu.be/Akgs6Lu0AiI I’m so happy I can trust you in this game. I feel it. You really comforted me when Grae and then Ben got their torches snuffed. You have never wronged me and I think I’m a good judge of character. We just click. I’m glad I can just pour all myself out to you and all my game thoughts. You never know when you’re the next one off the skype island and I want you to know everything. I’m not writing your name down in this game. Old Hanuha it’s gonna have to blindside me a 4th time. Lol and I’m closer with Pedro in this game than they realize. So if they try to pull his vote, hopefully I will know. 🤞 I honestly hope I wasn’t too suspicious on last immunity challenge that I never cut your rope. I wish you didn’t get out first round in this one! 😢😟 Aimee

Pedro has really helped pass the time at jury duty today. It’s fun chatting with him about the legal systems in our countries and cracking jokes at each other. Speaking of game for a moment, you can’t just ignore someone in this game like Pedro and treat them like an outcast and then expect to use them when you see fit. I have a genuine connection with him and even now I’m sitting here wondering.... do I save him this vote? There’s a lot to consider. It’s funny how old Hanuha thinks they can just grab any old Maola and work with them. Sorry guys you might be a little bit late to that game. I’ve heard from just about all of them how disingenuous old Hanuha is being. Hahahahaha sorry but I’ve been there with all of old Maola WAY before you have. They can see that I’ve been forthcoming and building relationships for days and not some last minute sketch as hell thing. It truly pays off to not lie or be messy when you have no reason to be. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been blindsided and left out so much....I had no choice but to adapt my game. Maybe one day you’ll find out what that’s like too? I’ve been thinking so many steps far ahead and predicting potential moves before they happen. It’ll take a lot for them to get an old Maola vote without me knowing about it. https://64.media.tumblr.com/5edf24d4321044ba332b90b161d0f442/587280b4d69b93c7-b5/s400x600/8f010451e459cb39058854d9655031b4bb9b617f.gifv

Maddison

I know I’m a target again tonight, so its a good thing I have the idol in my pocket.

Olivia A

Maddison found an idol!! We think they are going to go for Maddison so she’ll play it for herself and we’re going to vote Cody out. He might have an idol too, though, so we might switch it to Najwah and hope they don’t expect that. I think we have Aimee with us so if we get Cody or Najwah out we’ll be in the majority.

Najwah

So the plan initially was to get Olivia out but Amy L messaged me to tell me that her tribe is trying to get Aimee on board to vote me out? And apparently Pedro is on board with that too. However, Amy wants to get Maddison out but just not right now. And that's problematic because I really wish Amy would work with me. At what point does she want to work with me I don't understand. Also, she's talking to Pedro about her and my alliance and its starting to freak me out. For some reason she thinks I'm at the bottom of my alliance? Sigh. So she told us Olivia has an idol which puts a spanner in the works. It's two hours to tribal and I think I'm about to get blindsided lmao. Unless I vote for Amy, this is a high possibility. If she just came to work with me to get Maddison out, I could protect her but as long as she's part of their alliance, I can't really do much. I honestly wish she'd just vote with us. I don't want to get her out. I wanted an African Queen final. She suggested that we get Maddison or Olivia out and then she, her and Pedro and Maddison start our own alliance and get Cody, Sarah and Aimee out. And then Maddison and it's her, me and Pedro in the final. 💀 I just.. I don't want to betray people to that extent. Yes it's a game but also, it's just a game. I hate that I'll have to write Amy down for this. HATE It and it makes me fucking sad but whyyyyy won't she just work with us. Now she has my fake idol too dammit. We could trick Maddison so easily. Ugh. I just hope she'd change her mind within the next couple of hours. I really don't want to lose the one person I trust in this game. Fuck. While Magnificent Maddison is still in? Our game could definitely go to shit. Who's to say Aimee won't vote with Maddison and Pedro next. Why are we not getting the biggest threat out? I don't understand. Even Amy thinks she's a threat but when it comes doen to it she just never wants to vote her? Whyyyyyy

Sarah

My video link won’t upload so... I’ll send this in for now.

For tonight’s vote, the four old Hanuha and Pedro want to vote together and we don’t have too much of a preference who we vote for. But, Naj found out through Amy that Olivia has an idol so we can either make it sound like we are voting Olivia or Maddison and hopefully flush an idol. So I talked to Naj and said I think we may be safer to vote Amy because we know an idol won’t be played on her and Amy won’t vote with or work with Naj completely. Amy is just being a messagener so she’s not really worth keeping around if she won’t work with us. Also, I don’t think Aimee wants to vote Olivia or Maddison. So the plan is to blindside Amy tonight and hopefully nothing crazy happens with advantages.

Olivia A

Amy A

There’s so much happening in my personal life and this game is my sanity which is funny because it’s ANYTHING but sane in here. The vote is going bonkers once again. I don’t know what will happen. There are names everywhere. I just hope I survive another night.

Olivia A

So the official plan is to vote Najwah. Amy told Pedro that we’re voting Cody so hopefully he relays that false info to Hanuha people. He also accidentally sent Amy some messages along the lines of “amy and maddison want me to vote w them but don’t even tell me the plan...” lmao so we have it confirmed that he’s telling Hanuha everything. I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that Pedro didn’t include me in that/assume I’m working with them. Maybe I am a goat! Not sure. Everything Maddison has done (whom everyone thinks is the big target) is something that I also did. We’ve been working in collaboration literally the whole game and come up with all plans together. That doesn’t feel like a goat to me.

Pedro A

I'm FUCKING SCAREDDDDD....like I don't trust Maddison and olivia....why would I vote with them...but at the same time...... I would just get 6th and 5th...LIKE COME ON...from the bottom to the powerful position..Idk how much more I can take...IM DYINGGGGGGGGGGGGG KILL ME ALREADY...sorry im literally a psycho ...#streampsycho by red velvet THO....but at the same time...Amy wants me to vote Cody......I CAN'T BE THE LAST MALE IN THE GAME....everyone will come for me

Maddison

I know I’m a target again tonight, so its a good thing I have the idol in my pocket.

Olivia A

Ahhh now Amy is being sus. She said she started talking to Najwah pretending she was interested in flipping to get info. But she never shared that w Maddison and me while it was happening so that makes me think she was actually interested in flipping. Also she apparently told Najwah that Maddison and I are super close! I don’t like that. I feel like I’m going home tonight.

Cody A.

https://youtu.be/l8RU7yci6kY

Cody A.

https://youtu.be/u5Wj3o0jqZE

#episodes

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jackednephi · 5 years ago

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Hey!! You’re doing great. Keep it up. We’ve been mutuals for awhile and even though I’ve never talked to you, I’ve commented on some of your stuff and you’ve commented on some of mine. And you’ve really brightened my day a few days. So keep your head up, Vann. You’re doing great. You got people behind you.

Thank you!!

I'm trying really hard to live my best life, to be true to my entire queerness AND my faith. I was really reluctant to talk about the relationship problems I'd been having with my ex because I was worried people would be all "oh it's because you're not monogamous" when that's not true at all. There's also a huge stigma of divorce in Mormon culture because "oh nooo your eternal companion noooooo"

But the thing is, I prayed about my divorce and I got the same kind of answer as when I asked about marrying them. They'd made a LOT of choices and our paths had diverged. One of those choices was how much they drink and they've become an alcoholic over the years. Another was that no matter how badly they treated others, they took forgiveness for granted and never sought therapy in order to heal from trauma and be a better partner. They always assumed that no matter what they did or how badly they hurt others, that forgiveness was always a sure thing. So they might as well be selfish and do as they please because there would be no consequences anyway

Our relationship had turned abusive. I wasn't allowed to complain about how I was treated because I didn't have a job and "didn't contribute anyway" despite being severely disabled. I wasn't allowed to speak out about their husband no matter what he said to me or to my husband. I was expected to cook and clean for all five of us and never complain because I "didn't contribute" and so on. Somehow. I was supposed to pay for all my expenses myself and since I couldn't, the brunt was on my husband. But you're supposed to split finances 50/50 with spouses so it never made any sense to me that we were supposedly married but living like roommates. They wouldn't even have sex with me, go on dates together, or do anything couples do. We shared a living space and that was it. I've spoken more to my mother in a day than we did in a week

I prayed about it. I prayed if I should stay but I didn't really get an answer there. Just frustration every time I tried to talk about it. I asked about marriage counseling which was also one of those non answers. Finally, I asked about leaving the relationship and the answer I got was a yes. It was a confusing answer but I trusted it and when my asthma attack happened, I suddenly understood why

Their apathy towards our marriage, towards me, had grown to the point that it didn't even matter that my life was at risk. I could have died and they would have been unaffected. After confirming my safety, they went about their day as if it were business as usual. Meanwhile, my wife refused to leave my side and went so far as to wait outside the bathroom when I had to pee. The only reason anything changed was my husband stood up for me to their husband over the issue

So I left. I left and I'm never taking them back. There is no way any kind of healthy relationship can be salvaged or rebuilt after something like that. I deserve better than to be treated the way I was and then to have someone I loved not care if I lived or died? How could I ever trust them after that?

It wasn't like I didn't try to communicate either. I have no ability for tact or subtlety whatsoever and I'm straightforward and blunt about my thoughts and feelings. I did everything in my power to communicate things were wrong and I was looking for how to fix it. But they weren't interested in putting in the effort required and expected me to carry our marriage completely alone. They didn't even know something was wrong until yesterday after I'd tried for months to get them to listen to me. Then, they had no idea how they'd upset me or that I wanted nothing to do with them. They were completely blindsided

That's not my fault considering I tried everything. I also wasn't going to grab them by the nose and lead them to therapy or marriage counseling because we all have to make our own choices. They made theirs. Alcohol and apathy were more important than keeping our marriage healthy and alive and now they have to face the consequences ie a divorce. And they will never have another opportunity to have me in their life because I deserve better and I refuse to invite a previous abuser into any aspect of my future

So, my best life doesn't have them in it. That sucks but it is what it is. I still have a very lovely husband and a very lovely wife who both love and support me and would never hurt me. My wife saved my life during my asthma attack when my ex was busy worried about other things. I'm glad for the two of them and all the love and support they give me. Being with them reminds me of what marriage is supposed to be like and is such a stark contrast to what life was like with my ex

Here's to my new life! Here's to never looking back! Here's to a happy future without abuse, free of a loveless, toxic, hateful marriage! Here's to me! Even if the little details are stressful like having mice, it's a hell of a lot better than the misery my life had become!

L'chaim!

#long post #text heavy

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highfivecalum · 6 years ago

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Wouldn’t Miss A Chance {CH} 15

Previous Chapters: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine TenEleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen

❋ ❋ ❋

IT HAD BEEN A FULL WEEK since the party and since Ashton had come home. Calum and Sophie tried to get ahold of him, tried to explain everything to him, but he ignored all of their calls and texts. They knew he was upset and more so pissed off, but they thought they deserved the chance and opportunity to explain themselves.

Things between Calum and Sophie were good, great, almost perfect even. With it just being the two of them in the house they could have sex and be as open and lovey as they wanted to without fear of Ashton lashing out or feeling uncomfortable. The only thing bothering Sophie was the nagging voice in the back of her head telling her not to trust Calum after he told her he spent the night at Sarah’s.

Sophie knew she should trust him. She knew that he wouldn’t hurt her, not intentionally at least, but the jealous and paranoid part of her made it hard for her to. The fact that she had been cheated on before and lied to really messed up her trust issues, so she didn’t think she was being completely crazy and paranoid when it came to the potential of Calum sleeping with Sarah, especially since she knew they had a history.

She just really hoped that she was wrong.

Not having to work that day or night and with Calum out doing stuff, Sophie sat alone in the house with her thoughts that were driving her absolutely crazy. She knew she needed to get up off the couch and do something, distract herself and keep her mind occupied, so she finally peeled her body off of the couch and got up to shower and get ready. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do by herself, but she knew she needed to get out of the house.

After her very much needed shower and after applying her makeup and finding a suitable outfit for the weather, Sophie grabbed her car keys and drove in the direction of the mall. It wasn’t far, just over ten minutes, and she was glad when she easily found a parking spot in the crowded parking garage.

Sophie walked around the mall for a little bit, still not entirely sure where she wanted to go or what she wanted to do, but when she saw a large SALE sign in the window of one of her favorite stores, she knew she had to go in. She hadn’t been shopping in a while and she had saved almost all of her money she had been making from the bar, so she decided to treat herself.

Sophie picked out a pair of jeans, a few tops, and a few pairs of lacy underwear and bras to match. She tried them all on, smiling widely when everything fit perfectly and looked great-- that was a rare occurrence for her when it came to shopping, she usually had no luck. Happily making her way towards to the counter, she was stopped by somebody calling her. Spinning around, Sophie was face to face with Clara.

“Sophie! Hi,” Clara pulled her in for a quick hug which Sophie returned. Sophie hadn’t seen Clara since the night of the party and she was happy they ran into each other because Sophie was dying to know how Ashton was doing and if he was okay. “How are you doing?”

Sophie tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and shrugged. “I’m alright. I’ve been better.”

Clara knew it was because of Ashton and Calum and the fight between the three of them and Sophie didn’t even have to ask before Clara was opening her mouth and talking about Ashton. “He’s really upset,” Clara sighed and Sophie furrowed her eyebrows. “Ashton, I mean.”

“Right,” Sophie nodded her head and laughed sadly. “You probably think I’m the worst sister ever; dating my brother’s best friend. Has he said anything about it?”

“I don’t think that,” Clara assured her. “And not really, no. He just huffs and mopes around and when I try to get him to talk about it he just shuts me out. I just think he never expected that to happen so he was totally blindsided by it, you know?” Sophie nodded her head. “And I think he’s worried about you and just trying to look out for you since he knows Calum well and knows he doesn’t do relationships well.”

“And I understand that, I do, I just-” Sophie ran a frustrated hand through her hair and exhaled a sigh. She wanted to cry at the thought of Ashton hating the idea of her and Calum together. “I just wish he would talk to me and let me explain things. He ignores my calls and I’m pretty sure he blocked Calum’s number.”

“Want me to talk to him?”

“Oh no,” Sophie shook her head. “I don’t want to drag you into it. Ashton’s already pissed at us, he doesn’t need to be pissed at you, too.”

“I don’t mind. If you and Calum are really happy together and if it’s a serious thing then Ashton needs to hear you guys out and let you explain. I think he owes you that much.” Clara smiled sympathetically. “And I’m also tired of him moping around my apartment.” She laughed lightly and Sophie smiled.

“Well, thank you, Clara. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Clara waved Sophie off like it was no big deal, but to Sophie it was. “I’ll let you go now, though. I hope everything works out for you guys.” The pair said their goodbyes, giving each other a quick hug before Clara was making her way to the fitting rooms and Sophie making hers to the registers.

Sophie walked aimlessly around the mall thinking about what Clara had said. Clara was right, Ashton did owe Calum and Sophie that much, but she wasn’t sure if Ashton thought about it that way. She hoped, prayed even, that Clara could get through to him.

Sophie was knocked out of her thoughts when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. Pulling it out, her grim expression turned into a smile at the text from Calum.

Calum: Any plans tonight? I’m makin’ dinner for you if you’re free.

Sophie smiled and quickly wrote a text back to him, looking up every so often to make sure she didn’t bump into anyone, but was unsuccessful when she felt her body collide with another. She locked her phone and looked up to apologize. “I’m so sorry.” Her smile from Calum’s text diminished when she saw Sarah standing in front of her.

Sarah pursed her lips and looked Sophie up and down. “Sophie, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi.”

“You should really watch where you’re going.”

Sophie furrowed her eyebrows at the bitchy tone in Sarah’s voice. “I’m sorry, I was just-”

“Texting?” Sophie rolled her lips into her mouth and nodded her head. “Texting who?”

Sophie wanted to tell her that it wasn’t any of her business who she was texting, but unlike Sarah, Sophie was polite and had manners. “Um, Calum.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Oh. That’s surprising.”

“Why is that surprising?”

“I just figured after he stayed at my place that night you would have ended things, since you know, we hooked up and everything.” Sarah smiled and Sophie felt her insides twist. “Well, I gotta go, nice seeing you, though Sophie.”

Sophie was left there standing in the middle of the mall, mouth agape, and heart slowly breaking at Sarah’s words and she hoped to God that Sarah was lying, because if she wasn’t, Ashton was right, and Calum was capable of breaking her heart.

❋ ❋ ❋

Sophie sat at the dinner table across from Calum, twisting her pasta around on her plate while her brain tortured her with the thoughts of Calum and Sarah together. Was Sarah just jealous that Sophie and Calum were together? Or did Calum lie to her and they really did hook up? She couldn’t get her mind to shut the fuck up no matter how hard she tried.

The whole time Sophie helped Calum cook dinner she was in her own world and Calum noticed, but he didn’t say anything. He figured that maybe she was just tired or hungry and after she ate she would go back to her normal, smiling and nonstop talking self, but she didn’t, and Calum was getting worried.

“Sophie,” Calum repeated Sophie’s name louder this time and her head snapped up from her plate.

“Sorry. What?”

“I asked if you were okay.”

“Oh,” Sophie cleared her throat. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Calum frowned, knowing fully well that Sophie wasn’t fine, and stood up, completely forgetting about his food and rounded the table so he was in front of her. He crouched down, knees bent so now they were face to face and he took her hand in his. “Soph,” Calum mumbled. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Sophie shook her head although it wasn’t nothing. “It’s stupid.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothin’.”

Sophie exhaled a sigh and closed her eyes before telling Calum what happened. “I ran into Sarah when I was at the mall today and she-- she told me that when you stayed at her house the night of the party the two of you hooked up.”

Calum’s jaw locked and he looked away from Sophie. He shook his head angrily and stood up. “And you believed her?”

“I don’t know, Calum! I don’t know what to believe.”

“Nothing happened, Sophie. You gotta believe me.” Calum assured her and he wasn’t lying.

Sophie didn’t want to ask, but she did anyway. “What if I can’t believe you, Cal?”

“Then you’re gonna be the one breakin’ my heart. Not the other way around,” Calum laughed sadly and shook his head. “When I showed up, she was drunk and she tried to kiss me, tried to talk me into sleeping with her, but I told her no. And when I told her I was with you she got jealous and told me to crash on the couch and be gone when she woke up. Nothing happened, Soph, I swear to God,” Calum sighed and bent down so they were eye to eye again. He took her face in his hands and licked his lips. “You’re all I want. I don’t want anybody else but you.”

“Calum,” Sophie tried to interrupt him, tried to tell him that she believed him because she was the desperation and the sincerity in his eyes, but he kept talking, kept rambling. He was nervous, maybe even a little bit scared, and Sophie could tell.

“And I know I’m not good at relationships, but I’m tryin’ here, and I want to prove Ashton wrong so fuckin’ badly, because I’m not goin’ to break your heart, baby.” Sophie couldn’t help but smile at Calum’s confession and she knew that she could trust him. Hell, she did trust him with everything. “And I know I should have asked you this a while ago, but will you, finally and officially, be my girlfriend? Please?”

Sophie rolled her eyes at the man in front of her but nodded her head and pressed her lips against his in a light and quick kiss. “Yes, Calum. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Sophie swore she had never seen Calum smile so widely before, his pearly white teeth on full display and the little crinkles by the sides of his eyes, and she knew that it was her new favorite sight. She knew that she would do anything to see it.

❋ ❋ ❋

Taglist: @wrappedaroundcal @roselukes @hereforlukescruff @plainwhiteluke @astroashtonio @catchinqcalum @irwinkitten @irwinvalentines @mistletoemichael @youmaycallmemrshemmings @musicsavedme-00 @complete-trash-101 @jupitergranger @mysteriouslycali @lex-micole @sincerelycalum @calistheloml @kaxseychill @calteahood @mermaid-merrick @verybelowaverage @forggetablle @ihatemyself21 @rexorangecouny @alotof1dlove @dionnealberts @turtlenecktgc @nipplyportman @lauwenrodriguez @uncrowned-cal @ghstofcalum @cliffordcntrl @xx-cuddlemecalum-xx @it-was-a-lie @therainydays4 @booklove-2 @pattys-got-cakes @mpadge33 @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @buddhas-princess @nostalgia-luke @tothemoonwithclifford @hopelessxcynic @dannisos @calpalbby @thebodaciouscth @blue-skies-are-alright @90s-good-vibes @sugarcoatedcalum @crystalisinfinite @toofadedtofight @girlstalkreality @rosesfromcth @parkerspicedlatte @rip-lukes-balsamic @miahelizaaabeth @wcstethenightt @mixedfeeelings @isabella-mae13 @antisocialbandmate @ohhmuke @absolute-moody

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featherquillpen · 6 years ago

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Marco/Jake/Cassie in Dæmorphing

Now that Marco/Jake/Cassie is official Dæmorphing canon, I wanted to take a moment to help out the folks who had trouble picking up on the subtext for the ship I’d built up over the series. If you felt blindsided by the ship in “Destroyer of Worlds,” or you’re just curious about how I went about slow burning it for so long, this masterpost is for you.

Origins

I originally intended Dæmorphing to be completely gen, without even the canon ships. I just wasn’t interested in it. But Bridge to the Stars threw me off the rails. You can keep your pining and your soulmate AUs, because I discovered over the course of this fic that my favorite shipping tropes are people infesting each other, and leaders abdicating leadership to their trusted lieutenants. So I started out writing Bridge to the Stars sticking to my guns about no ships at all in Dæmorphing, and by the end of writing it I was shipping Rachel/Tobias and Marco/Jake/Cassie desperately. These parts are not intentional subtext, but rather the passages where I accidentally convinced myself that this ship would be perfect.

Bridge to the Stars, chapter 3:

So I did something I wasn’t sure would work. I relaxed a part of my brain, the part that felt thankful to Marco for saving us all from the inside of my own head. It must have worked, because Marco showed me something too: amazement that I’d let him take over my body, even for just a second – and thanks.

Bridge to the Stars, chapter 6:

“Cassie,” he said hoarsely. He looked up at me with bleary eyes. “While I’m sick, you’re in charge of this mission.”

My mouth went dry. “Me? Why me?”

“Normally I’d pick Rachel or Marco,” Jake said. “But they’re not the right ones for this mission. They don’t understand Yeerks the way you do. They’re too suspicious of Yeerks, even dedicated Peace Movement Yeerks. You should listen to them when they get suspicious. They notice important things. But right now we need trust more than we need fear.”

Merlyse looked at me with big dark eyes, then up at Quincy on her antler. “Take care of them for me, will you?”

Quincy nodded. I had a sudden, wild impulse to kiss Jake. But that would only get me sick too.

Building up Jake/Marco

Once I decided I was going to go with these beautiful shippy feelings I felt, I knew an important part would be building up the Jake/Marco leg of the triangle, because Jake/Cassie is canon and doesn’t take too much convincing to get going. This bit in chapter 2 of The Bright Clear Line is the first intentional subtext:

I covered my face with my hands, trying to keep my breath in, so I wouldn’t have to hear it.

Hands closed over mine and gently pried them from my face. Jake. It had to be. He didn’t die in the boat. Was it really him? I squinted open my eyes. Yes, it was him, and he didn’t even have his serious face on. Just a confused little boy face, like the time he told me about seeing his dad cry. Behind me, Merlyse was a tiny bird on Dia’s shoulder, singing a quiet song. “Hey, Marco. There’s something important you need to know, but I need you to be calm before I tell you, okay? I need you breathe with me. In.” He sucked in air, showing me how, then exhaled. “Out. Do it with me, okay?”

I’ve talked a close friend through a panic attack, someone I love dearly but not in that way, and let me tell you, it does not by any means require you to gently touch the panicking person’s hands and face, or to sing them a song. The calm, steady speech and the breathing together bits are the necessary and helpful bits that Luis would have taught him; the rest is all Jake’s heartache at seeing Marco in pain. Also, in what will become something of a theme, Marco cries in this scene in front of Jake. It is excruciatingly difficult for Marco to cry in front of anybody, even his best friend.

Abel or Cain, chapter 2:

Dia rested her head on Merlyse’s talon. Marco looked at me sideways. “Ax had this idea. From the Andalite military. He calls it the chain of command. When you can’t lead, there’s a lieutenant. Someone who can take over for you. Even when you think you don’t need someone to take over.”

“And that’s you,” I said. I scrubbed the tears from my face with a few hard swipes. “Duh. You’re my best friend, Marco. If you ever again tell me I’m losing it, getting too involved, losing my head – ”

Marco’s words were cool, distant, but Dia squeezed around Merl’s leg, like some weird kind of hug. It was only then I realized how close our dæmons had gotten, closer than Dia had dared ever since David grabbed her.

“What are we, anymore, Dia?” Merl said quietly, looking down at her long, powerful body. “What’s happened to us?”

She didn’t answer. She just rubbed her head against the soft down of Merl’s leg feathers, then slithered back down the bedpost.

This bit is crucial. Part of it is just self-indulgence, not meant as subtext for the reader necessarily, because I seem to have some kind of deeply rooted fetish for leaders letting their lieutenants take over leadership for them. That part’s for me, not you, because that’s what makes me ship it.

Here’s the part that is for the reader. One is that Jake is crying in front of Marco – this is incredibly hard for him, even in front of his best friend, just like it was for Marco last fic. The other is that Diamanta was profoundly traumatized by David grabbing her, and hasn’t touched another dæmon since then, but she works past that trauma because she wants to touch Merlyse so badly. This is gay, folks. It’s gay.

Building up the trio

The Guided and the Lost starts a theme where two of the members of the triad team up to help support the third. This has become one of my favorite things about this ship. Here, Marco and Cassie take Jake home after he (and Marco) were tortured by Taylor. They’re working together to help him but they’re not sure how.

The Guided and the Lost, chapter 2:

I stared down at Jake and waited for Cassie to do something Cassie-ish that would fix this. Dia hissed in my ear, “She’s going to cry. Do something, quick, before she cries.”

I had no good ideas, but anything would be better than Cassie crying. I asked Jake, “What do you do to get to sleep?”

Quincy nipped the back of Cassie’s hand with his fangs. She swallowed hard and pulled herself together. She pulled up the chair from Jake’s desk and sat down. “Okay,” she said. “I have some history for you. The barn’s been in my mom’s family for generations. Let me tell you about it. See, her ancestors were here before California was a state. They were a mestizo family from Mexico who built a ranch up here.”

I stood there awkwardly, listening even though I always found history kind of boring. I wondered again if I should leave. But Cassie gestured for me to sit at the foot of Jake’s bed. I sat down, feeling weird about it even though I’d had sleepovers in this room a million times before.

Here, Marco feels awkward and jealous because he’s had so many sleepovers in Jake’s bedroom, and now he and Cassie are both in Jake’s bedroom and Jake and Cassie are having a Moment and Marco feels like a third wheel. A bedroom is an intimate, private space, and Marco is used to sharing it with Jake and Jake alone; he is not ready to share that intimacy with Cassie, and he feels usurped. At the same time, he feels pathetically grateful to Cassie for helping him deal with Jake’s feelings.

Putting Down Roots:

We passed by Marco, who had ended up dancing with Cassie after all. He was keeping it slow and simple with her so she could keep up. I was kind of surprised to see that she was having fun. She was always so awkward at school dances I figured she didn’t like dancing at all. But she was wearing a nice blouse and slacks instead of a dress, which I’d picked out on the hunch she’d be more comfortable in them. There was no pressure, no other girls trying to ask Jake to dance, and she was laughing at Marco’s over-the-top gentlemanliness.

Marco is tuned in enough to Cassie and Jake’s relationship that he understands that Cassie feels awkward and a little hurt that Jake won’t dance with her. So he steps in and dances with her, doing everything he can to make her feel more at ease.

In Chapter 8 of The Tree of Life, the Animorphs get the news from Evatran that under their instructions, the Sharing is starting new programs to round up the homeless and disabled as hosts. Continuing the theme, Cassie and Jake team up here to make Marco feel better after hearing this news.

Jake stayed behind, though. I caught him in a pleading look at Cassie that read something like: help, Cassie, he’s having an emotion! Quincy mantled his wings to cover his face. Merlyse became an Arctic wolf and gave her an even more pleading look, with puppy eyes.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s okay, you dweeb. Cassie can stay. It’s not like she can’t tell I’m having a mini freak out over here, anyway. She always knows.”

“Hey,” Jake said, looking back and forth between us. There was a crushing weight behind his eyes. He pulled me and Cassie into a hug, which actually worked, since Cassie and I are short and Jake is a big block of a guy.

“Cassie,” I said, muffled into Jake’s arm. “He’s trying to crush us to death. Aren’t you gonna stop him?” Merlyse huffed as Quincy bit into her neck fur, where it was too thick to hurt. Dia hissed a laugh and flicked her fuzzy white leg with her rattle tail.

When Jake let us go, Cassie said, “This changes everything. I think. The war is getting – I don’t know.” She shrugged, and held out her hand for Quincy. “I just have a feeling.” And she went into her house.

I looked at Jake. “Does she always say stuff like that?”

“I dunno. Sometimes. Why should I know?”

“Because she’s your girlfriend?”

“I don’t know what we are,” Jake said.

I stared at him and shook my head. “God, you’re an idiot.” And before he could ask me why he was an idiot, I left.

Here, Jake and Cassie team up to make Marco feel better. Cassie talks to Marco, helps him see the situation from a different perspective, and Jake pulls them into a group hug. The bit at the end with Jake and Marco is Marco being jealous and resentful of him and Cassie again – Cassie can be more open about her feelings for Jake, because of heteronormativity, and even with her feelings more open, Jake still won’t act. So what kind of hope does Marco have?

In Chapter 2 of Welcome Home, Marco and Cassie team up to make sure Jake doesn’t offer up his own family as a sacrifice to the Yeerks to save everyone else.

Diamanta reared up and hissed, making all of us flinch except Abineng. “That’s bullshit and you know it! Yeah, Dad and Nora are top of the list because my mom’s a Controller. So how does that put you, the family of a Controller, at the bottom of the list?”

“Tom’s dead as far as they’re concerned,” Merlyse shot back.

“So you think they’ve forgotten he has a family?” Dia said.

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “Put me last,” I said. “Marco’s right. All of your families are related to a high-ranking Controller. Mine’s not. My parents can wait.”

This is very much Cassie showing her love for Jake in the most concrete possible way: putting his family ahead of hers.

In Chapter 4 of Welcome Home, Jake and Cassie learn about polyamory for the first time in their lives, and their reactions are.... interesting:

Ket considered this. “Ghat have husband, Dref, and wife, Meret. Is gay?”

While my brain tried to process that, Cassie said, “Wait, so was this a three-way wedding today?”

Ket laughed. “No! Ghat marry Dref before. In cage, in Yeerk Pool. Now Ghat marry Meret.”

“Won’t Dref get jealous?” I said.

Ket tilted her head at me. “What is jealous?”

Merlyse started laughing, then I joined in. I shook my head. “The Hork-Bajir are so cool. You have it all figured out, don’t you?”

Cassie and Quincy looked at each other. He pricked his ears at me. Cassie raised her eyebrows and said, “You think it’s cool, huh? That Ghat has a husband and a wife?”

I blushed. “I think it’s cool that they can do stuff like that without worrying they’ll get divorced over it, yeah.”

Why is Jake blushing here? It’s because he’s subconsciously thinking about the possibilities of polyamory like the Hork-Bajir’s, and he’s more intrigued than he’s ready to admit to Cassie. But Cassie still picks up that Jake has more than a passing interest in the concept.

Chapter 6 of Welcome Home is a huge step for the trio. This is where Marco and Cassie get more on the same page, recognizing the parallels and commonalities between them, and Cassie starts to get a clue that there’s something developing between the trio.

I crumpled into Marco, on the side where Diamanta wasn’t draped over his shoulder. I cried with the force of my whole body, shaking against him. For a moment, he stiffened. Then he laid a hand on the back of my head, so lightly it barely flattened my afro, and turned his head so his cheek touched my forehead. I remembered the look on Marco’s face when he said goodbye to Eva, and fresh pain wracked me. Our mothers had made their choices, and we had to live with them. Live without them. Let them go.

Something hot and wet trickled down my forehead. Marco was crying too, here in the night when my face was hidden and no one but Diamanta would see.

I stared at it. “Oh, hell with it.” I took a long swig. “Huh. That tastes way better than the red wine my parents drink sometimes.” I smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek. I tasted a hint of salt from where he’d cried on me. “You’re sweet.”

Marco went brick red.

“First of all, Cassie’s not my – she’s – ” He shot me a frantic look and flushed pink. “Look, Tom, it’s none of your business, but she can kiss Marco on the cheek if she wants to! Second of all, how do you even know what they were doing?”

My tongue tied itself in a knot. The words hovered in the air: Cassie’s not my – Cassie can kiss Marco on the cheek if she wants to. I should say something about that. Or about the stupid mission I’d just run behind his back. But I just couldn’t right now. So instead I told Marco, “Save it for another night. Then all three of us can pass it around.”

“Ooh, Cassie, repeat offender,” Marco said. “Who would have thought? And dragging Jake into her wicked ways too!”

It’s the only way we’ll talk about the things we really need to talk about, Quincy thought. I smiled weakly. “Yeah. That’s me. A wicked, wicked temptress.” And I walked back to the yurt, feeling like I’d missed out on a chance to come clean.

Again, following the theme with these three, Marco is able to cry in front of Cassie here, which is not an easy thing for him.

I use blushing strategically, folks. Marco blushes because he likes the kiss and doesn’t know what to do with that. Jake blushes while talking about Cassie kissing Marco because it’s giving him the warm tinglies and he doesn’t know what to do with that.

I explicitly foreshadow the way the trio are going to get together when Cassie tells Marco to save the rest of the limoncello for another night. Cassie wants Marco to do that because she already understands at this point that there’s something going on between the three of them and the only way the other two are ever going to talk about it is if they have alcohol in their systems. Ah, our beloved manipulative Cassie.

Then our other huge step comes when, yet again, Cassie and Marco team up to help Jake, this time when he’s going back to keep watch for Tom, not knowing what his fate will be.

«You look like Ax’s jock brother. You’re on the football team, he does fencing. You make fun of him for being a fancy nerd.» Marco’s face broke into a doggy grin. «You’re both pretty cute, though. All of us should have kids. We obviously have primo genes.»

Friends, Romans, countrymen, this is bi as fuck.

«I dunno. She’s pretty hardcore for a cute little bird,» Marco said. He started rubbing his head against my thigh and licking my hand. It reminded me so much of Homer I almost wanted to laugh. I scratched his ears, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. «Ohhhh man,» he said. «Now I know why dogs are so wild about getting their ears scratched. That is awesome.»

It should have been weird. Marco wasn’t Homer, after all. He was my best friend, and I was petting his head. Not to mention Cassie was a Yeerk in my head while I did it. Maybe it was just so weird it went all the way back around to being okay, somehow. Whatever it was, I gave into it. I sank into a crouch and scratched the thick ruff around Marco’s neck with both hands. He licked my face. “Hey, stop that! You’re not Homer, you have no excuse.”

That hetero feel when you rub your head against your bro’s thigh and lick his hand. That hetero feel when pet your bro while your girlfriend is a slug in your head. Just some relatable, totally straight feelings.

And this is how I finally got to bring the relationship from subtext to text in Destroyer of Worlds. What a journey it’s been!

#daemorphing meta is go

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gimmesumsuga · 7 years ago

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Sweeter than Sweet (37)

Pairings: Jimin x reader, Yoongi x reader, Namjoon x reader, Taehyung x reader + others as the story progresses

Warnings: Mild angst, graphic descriptions of sex, unprotected sex, blood-drinking

Word count: 3.8K

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The clothes you'd collected end up in a crumpled pile on the floor when you drop them without a thought beside you, freeing up your hands to take hold of Jimin’s face and brush away his tears as they fall one after another. You're at a loss for words, staring down the beautiful, broken man looking back at you.

How could he possibly think that that's what you meant? Does Jimin really think your love so shallow that something like this would make you abandon him? Of course he does - why would he think any different when he's already been cast aside once by someone he'd loved for so long?

You realise now that this is what Jimin’s overwhelmingly emotional reaction is about; he's gone into a total panic, assuming that you taking some space is synonymous with drawing your relationship to a close. It breaks your heart to know he’s thinking that way because you can only imagine what your reaction would be if Jimin told you it was over. You’d probably be ten times the mess he is and a million times less attractive, what with your propensity to develop a red, splotchy face and runny nose whenever you’re upset.

“Jimin, I’m not-” You pause to swallow, realising that your eyes are starting to threaten tears too, “That’s not what I meant, not at all.” Jimin’s moisture filled eyes just keep searching yours, pleading for answers and for reassurance as you struggle to keep up with wiping away the salty trails on his cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere, ok? Never.”

“I thought…” He trails off, pressing his eyes closed as he turns his head, biting his lip as pain flashes across his face. You use your hold on his face to turn it back to you, and when he opens his eyes again you look down into them with an intensity that borders on fierce.

“You thought wrong. I’m not leaving you, Jimin. I’d never do that to you.” Grabbing hold of his hands that are still clutching onto the backs of his thighs you pull him to standing, looking up at him now rather than down, relieved that no more fresh tears seem to making an appearance. “You mean too much to me,” you tell him softly, linking together your fingers where they hang by your side and stepping closer so you can rest your cheek against Jimin’s chest and close your eyes. His breathing is still a little ragged, chest shuddering slightly as he exhales, but as soon as you’re pressed to him Jimin squeezes your hands, pressing his face into your hair and inhaling deeply, like the scent of you soothes some primal part of him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly, his voice sounding tight and raw from all the crying he’s done.

Honestly, Jimin doesn’t need to apologise to you anymore. Any remaining anger you had, any doubt about wanting to be around him, it’s all been completely wiped away by seeing him this way. If it’s a manipulation on his part to earn instant forgiveness then it’s definitely a good one, but something in your gut tells you that his reaction was nothing but genuine.

“I know you are,” you say into Jimin’s chest, pulling your hands from his and wrapping your arms around him instead, your palms pressed to his shoulder blades.

“I just love you so much…” Jimin fingers start to run through your hair, the other wrapped around your waist as your heart flutters as it always does on hearing those words. “I’ve got no self-control when you’re around; my temper, my thirst, my desire… it all goes to hell.” One of Jimin’s gentle fingers comes to rest under your chin to tilt your face upward, and when you look at him again Jimin looks almost back to his normal self - save the bruises on his face and swollen nose and jaw. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I know how you feel,” you answer softly, because you really, truly do. You’d never thought you could feel like this, and it’s as scary as it as liberating, all at the same time. Your heart feels swollen in your chest, thumping like it’s trying to break through your ribs to get to him, and ever the slave to your impulses you tip forward to press your mouth to Jimin’s in an eager kiss, melting into him when he kisses you back just as desperately.

“I love you,” you tell him between the meeting of your lips, and the next time they press you feel Jimin’s curved into a slight smile, his hand twisting in your hair to pull you closer.

Gently, you kitten-lick at Jimin’s lips until he parts them, granting you access to his mouth. It almost feels strange kissing this way; you’re so used to Jimin taking the lead that to have him hold back and allow you to explore the cavern of his mouth, rolling your tongue against his, feels completely foreign. Odd - but wonderful all the same.

You moan quietly when Jimin lightly sucks on your bottom lip, and on hearing the sound you make he suddenly scoops you up in his arms without warning, only breaking your kiss when you wince slightly from the ongoing soreness of your hip. Jimin smiles apologetically at you, adjusting his grip enough to carry you comfortably over to the bed bridal style, and when he pulls away after carefully laying you down there's nothing but love burning in his eyes for you, so intense that it takes your breath away.

“Jimin...” you faintly implore, extending your reach towards him as he climbs onto the bed too, leaning over you as you pull his vest up and over his head, no longer possessing the nerves that would’ve once made you hesitate. You long to feel his naked body pressed to yours, that familiar ache starting to take you over as he unhurriedly removes your shirt too. He's so being so soft and so gentle that it only makes you want him more, and with eager hands you slide down his sweats and boxers too, smiling into the kiss you're sharing when he fumbles in trying to kick them off.

When you feel Jimin's hard length nudge against your stomach you keenly wrap him in your palm and tease him with a firm squeeze, adoring the stilted moan that it pulls from his lips. Jimin’s hips flex forward gently with each and every stroke of your hand, his eyes closed above you, dragging his bottom lip through his teeth as you torment him with slow pleasure.

He changes position, letting himself sink into the mattress to lie on his side, and as soon as his graceful hands are freed from supporting his weight they start working on your pants, Jimin obviously keen for you to be as naked as he is. He takes his time, kissing you leisurely as you continue to pleasure him, making him groan into the kiss more than once as he strips your lower half.

As soon as Jimin’s able to he’s touching you, rubbing his fingertips gently back and forth between your folds as you match his pace, steadily moving your hand up and down his cock with a gentle twist of your wrist. You honestly hadn’t realised just how wet his kiss had made you, but it’s hardly a surprise; your body has never had an issue in responding to even the lightest of Jimin’s touches, and today is no exception.

The feel of his fingers starting to circle your clitoris only further heightens your awareness of your own state of arousal, almost completely forgetting about pleasuring Jimin when he firmly rubs at the hardened bud, your pelvic muscles clenching as you moan into the pillow. He kisses you deeply, tongue brushing yours as your hips flex forward towards his hand, trying to lure him in by tiling halfway onto your back and letting your thighs fall further apart.

Thankfully Jimin takes your not-so-subtle hint; one of his fingers slipping inside, groaning against your neck as he feels your warm, wet walls squeezing around the intrusion. As soon as you’ve accommodated the first then a second joins it, and when Jimin starts to make slow, taunting come hither movements against your g-spot your hips start to move all of their own accord, pushing back with every curl of his fingers.

“I want you,” Jimin murmurs into the valley of your breasts, uttered between lingering kisses on that softest of flesh.

“Take me then,” you encourage breathlessly, squirming as his fine, silver hair tickles your skin. For another minute or so Jimin continues to stroke at your insides, relishing the sweet, needy sounds you make, but eventually he withdraws his fingers from your heat and then wordlessly takes hold of your hand, smiling as he rolls onto his back and takes you with him, maneuvering your bodies so that you’re on top, straddling his thighs.

At first you can only look down at him in confusion, your eyebrows raised as you struggle to understand. This uncharacteristic act of submission on his part has left you completely blindsided, and when Jimin reads the expression on your face he chuckles quietly, sitting up for a moment to cup your cheeks in his hands and kiss you with so much passion that it leaves you breathless.

Jimin doesn’t need to say anything when the kiss ends and he lays back down; the love shining in his eyes and the timid, sweet smile on his lips tells you everything you need to know and more. This changing of roles is Jimin trying to demonstrate just how much you mean to him - his relinquishing of control acting as a display of the absolute trust he’s putting in you to not break his already fragile heart. There’s no power games at work now, no daddy and kitten or dirty words, just you and Jimin and the love you share.

If it were a more appropriate moment you would probably already be crying at how the gesture moves you. Your heart feels like it’s grown to twice the usual size inside your chest and as you swallow the lump in your throat you gently stroke Jimin’s hair back from his face, smiling like the lovesick idiot you are. He’s so beautiful, so angelic in appearance… it doesn’t matter how many times you study his face, you’ll never stop being amazed that one person could be so close to perfect even when he’s covered in nicks and bruises like he is now.

“Don’t make me beg, please,” Jimin says quietly, flicking his eyes down to glance at his cock lying hard, swollen and neglected on his stomach, a small pool of pre-cum forming just below his belly-button. He looks back up to you, his hands resting on either side of your hips and squeezing your uninjured side, eager and impatient to be inside you but still mindful of hurting you. You could point out that what he just said was in itself a plea of some sorts, but you’re not sure Jimin’s pride could take it so all you do is smile, leaning over him to capture his lips in the sweetest, most loving of kisses.

You reach down between your bodies and take him in your hand while you kiss, loving the way his length twitches and throbs in your grasp as Jimin lets out a little gasp of pleasure. You shift forward slightly, sitting astride his hips rather than his thighs and lifting yourself so that you’re hovering above him, using your grasp on his cock to teasingly rub the very tip of him through your folds, sighing softly against his mouth. Showing more self-restraint than you ever thought possible you continue to do this for as long as you can bare, waiting for Jimin to start squirming underneath you, digging his fingertips into your hips before you end your mutual agony, his pained expression melting into one of pure bliss as you sink yourself slowly onto his cock.

You let your torso relax forward as you allow yourself time to accommodate his considerable girth, Jimin unhooking your bra and slipping it off you as you kiss and nuzzle at his neck, your hands running through his hair.

“You’re so beautiful Jimin,” you whisper sweetly in his ear as you gradually start to move, and on hearing your words Jimin wraps his arms around you, his chest rising and falling heavily underneath yours. “You make me feel so good…” Rocking your hips steadily back and forth you feel Jimin start to nibble at your earlobe, his breath laboured and husky so close to your ear. It sends delicious jolts of pleasure all along your spine, all the hairs on the back of your neck rising for him to feel as his hand slips up from your back to cradle the back of your head. His other moves down to palm your behind, encouraging the rocking of your body as he helps to flex your hips with gentle downward pressure, rolling his up against you too to get deeper inside and make it even more pleasurable for the both of you.

“Keep-keep doing that,” you tell him breathily, sitting yourself more upright and bracing yourself with your palms flat on his chest as you steadily start to increase your pace, biting your lip as it starts to feel even better than before. Jimin’s cock is brushing against all the right places inside you, the expert movement of his hips just heightening your pleasure all the more, and soon you’re practically mewling with pleasure on top of him, your eyes closed tight as you focus solely on the sensation of him inside you.

One of his hands reaches up to cup your breast, kneading it in his palm as you move, tweaking at the nipple just hard enough to make your inner walls clench and squeeze around him, Jimin moaning sinfully when he feels it and tilting his head back into the pillow.

“Close?” you check, out of breath and sweating slightly from how hard you’re working. You’re alternating between sliding yourself up and down on his cock as well as back and forth, focusing solely on Jimin’s pleasure as you try to ignore the way the muscles in your thighs are complaining. It’s nothing compared to the way your hip is aching anyway, but you try not to think about that, knowing that any soreness you feel afterwards will be more than worth it.

“I’m not cumming without you…” Jimin’s eyes are shrouded and dark with lust as he looks up at you from underneath the strands of his hair that have fallen in front of his face. His dominant side is making a reappearance as his orgasm draws near, you can tell from the way he’s clenching his jaw and grabbing at the tops of your thighs, fingertips digging into your flesh, but honestly you don’t mind at all; being Jimin’s willing subject is all you live and breathe for.

“Please Jimin,” you whine, pressing your nails into his chest, knowing that you could get there yourself eventually but choosing to egg him on, craving the power he exerts over your body when he takes control. “Make me cum, please.”

When he hears your soft, needy pleas, any sense of restraint left in him leaves Jimin entirely. He’s overwhelmed by his urge to take you and claim you, to make you so mindless with pleasure that by the time he’s done the only thing you’ll know is his name. He forgets forgets all about the sweet, loving Jimin that lay beneath you just five minutes ago and grabs savagely at your hips, regardless of how it might hurt you, growling at the back of his throat as he starts to thrust up into you from underneath. He bounces you on his cock like a ragdoll, slamming into you with his powerful thighs, buttocks and hips as they work in tandem, smiling in satisfaction at the way you start to gasp and moan with every thrust.

“You like that?” he grunts, watching your face as it contorts in ecstasy, biting his lip, sweat trickling down the side of his face as he pushes you towards your orgasm. Jimin’s fucking you so hard that you can barely keep your balance, having to fall forward and lean your chest on his for support as he continues his relentless pace.

You moan his name stiltedly into his neck, grabbing onto his hair as he fucks up into you, his cock pounding against your g-spot at the most perfect of angles, and you can feel him getting harder, can feel him getting close, and that just makes it feel all the more incredible. You can feel your own orgasm coming, exquisite pleasure burning hot in your pelvis, every push of Jimin’s hips so intense that it’s almost akin to agony.

“Jimin, god, I-mnff-I’m so close,” you slur, barely realising how hard you're tugging on his hair as you lose all sense of rhythm and coordination, completely at the mercy of Jimin’s every move.

“Me too, fuck, you're gonna make me cum,” he huffs, letting go of your hips to wrap his arms around you, holding your body to his as his motions become sloppier too. He groans your name through gritted teeth and you swear you've never heard a sweeter sound until he moans it again, right in your ear. “Cum with me, c’mon, let it go.”

You gasp when it finally overwhelms you, burning you up from the inside out, every nerve in your body screaming with pleasure as nonsensical sounds pour out of you, muffled by Jimin’s mouth. The moment he feels your walls contract around him Jimin succumbs too. He bites down on your bottom lip as he cums, hard, spilling into you with in a series of deep, slow thrusts, his cock twitching sporadically until both of you are completely spent.

As soon as you manage to summon the will to move you sluggishly turn your head to the side, letting it fall onto the pillow as you try to catch your breath. You’ve got a stupid, blissed out smile on your face that must be infectious, because when Jimin turns to look at you his full lips curve into the softest, sweetest of smiles too.

“Love you,” you whisper quietly and Jimin’s smile only grows, his eyes creasing with happiness.

“Love you,” he whispers back, caressing your cheek softly. It’s only then, in that after-sex glow when you let your eyes drift lazily over his face, that you realise that Jimin neglected to take the opportunity to feed. The bruising on his face is coming along nicely, turning a deep purple in several different spots, the bridge of his nose painfully swollen too. He’d probably look a mess if he weren’t so damn beautiful to begin with.

“Why didn’t you feed? You haven’t had any in days,” you say, sounding more chastising than you intend to as you sit up, climbing off of him to sit at his side instead, removing your collar. It's funny how your concern for him cuts straight through the lingering haze of your orgasm, your mind suddenly crystal clear when it comes to ensuring Jimin's health and happiness.

“Don’t,” Jimin interrupts, sitting upright too and taking hold of your wrist firmly, stopping you midway. You cock your head in confusion, frowning, but he just shakes his head. “I deserve these. I shouldn’t get away so lightly.”

“Jimin…” You pull your wrist from his grasp, continuing to take it off despite his objections, pushing your hair to one side. “I can’t stand seeing you hurt like this, whether you think you deserve it or not.” Tilting your head to the side you look at him imploringly, hoping that the sight of your exposed, vulnerable skin will lure him in. “Please.”

It’s working; you can tell by the way Jimin’s eyes are drawn to your neck, fixating on your jugular as it visibly pulses with blood, your heart beating hard and fast from all the exertion you just endured. He licks his lips, eyes darting up to yours for just a split second before he pounces, fixing his hand in your hair and tugging your head further to the side as he slices into your neck, fangs piercing hard and deep.

You let out a strangled moan, clutching onto his shoulders as that pain-pleasure mix washes over you, endorphins winning the fight over adrenaline and making your head swim as he drags the blood from your veins. For someone that had said he didn’t want it, Jimin’s certainly making the most of your offer. He gorges himself on you, drinking almost to the point of you passing out and only stopping when he realises how you’re starting to sag against him, your grip on him going lax, hands falling to your sides.

You don’t begrudge him for it though, not when it’s left you feeling so wonderfully high. If it weren’t for the fact you’d only just orgasmed you’re sure it would’ve happened again during his feed, but you don’t really mind missing out on that either. In fact, you don’t really care much about anything right now, happy to let Jimin manhandle you into a suitable position for sleep, smiling goofily up at him as he leans over you with concern in his eyes.

“See?” you giggle, reaching up and patting his now pristine cheek, “All better.”

“Are you ok? I took too much, didn’t I?”

“I’m fine Jiminie, promise,” you grin, having to close your eyes because of the way the room is spinning, “Jus’ need some sleep. Now come on, come cuddle.” Jimin let’s you pull on his shoulders, falling into bed next to you and rolling onto his back to accommodate the way you’re already trying to snuggle up to him. He helps you into his arms, laughing softly when you nuzzle into his chest making strange little noises of contentment, slinging your arm over his waist and squeezing him tight.

“Hmm… nightie night.” You fall asleep so fast and so deep that you don’t even feel the kiss Jimin affectionately presses to the top of your head or him quietly you wishing you the sweetest of dreams.

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nightqueendany · 6 years ago

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Okay, holy fuck I had no idea THIS ask about Tyrion would get the reaction it did and while I can understand the points everyone who responded to it brought up and I realize now the way it was written comes across as “gross ableism” I feel a need to defend myself and my reaction to this storyline. *references to S8 Leaks but I don’t outright say what those are so proceed with caution*

1) I read about the Friki leaks before I read the Peter Dinklage interview where he confirmed Tyrion has romantic feelings for Daenerys so naturally in my mind, I connected the two and I still do, especially considering GRRM’s original outline, which it seems more and more, George stuck to fairly faithfully save a few details.

I see no reason why Tyrion’s romantic feelings for Dany would even be relevant/mentioned unless the leaks are true. In fact, with the way it’s been mentioned more and more Tyrion’s feelings for her, it almost has seemed as if the producers are building us up to what the leaks talk about. As if they’re getting us ready for that.

When I first watched 7x07, seeing Tyrion in the hallway outside Dany’s door, my immediate first thought was: Tyrion’s angry. His jaw is set, he kind of narrows his eyes, he takes a deep breath. And I thought Tyrion was angry because he was worried about Dany and Jon getting distracted when they both really need their heads in the game, not focused on each other. It fed even more into my thoughts that Tyrion and Dany had a sort of father-daughter relationship, (discussed more below).

But then, going back with this new acceptance that Tyrion is, in fact, IN love with Dany, reminding myself of what D&D say in the 7x07 commentary during this scene: “Look who’s gonna be sad,” I couldn’t help but think that Tyrion’s angry in this moment because Daenerys is in bed with someone who isn’t him. That this look stems from jealousy, rather than genuine concern for Dany’s well-being.

And that pissed me off because Daenerys has never shown romantic feelings towards Tyrion - he’s never seemed to hint to her his feelings for her either - and so even if he is in love with her, there shouldn’t be any reason for him to feel angry or jealous of Jon because Jon is a good man.

Now it’s as if Tyrion is no better than failed cockblocker perhaps-you-should-fly-to-Winterfell-your-grace Jorah Mormont. And of course if the leaks are true and they directly relate to Tyrion’s feelings, it makes Tyrion way worse than Jorah.

2) My strong “visceral negative reaction” to Tyrion having feelings for Daenerys also stems from my disappointment that one of my favorite friendships in the entire series has had this beneath it the entire time and I felt blindsided and betrayed.

Back when I originally watched the 6x10 scene when Dany names Tyrion her Hand, I literally cried because Tyrion was one of my favorite characters in the show (not so much the books but show, definitely) and that scene felt like the two were finally in a place where they had someone outside of their typical circle who valued them as a human being. Dany valued Tyrion for his intelligence and his wit and she was one of the first people to recognize this about him and see him for more than his outward appearance or family name. Tyrion, similarly, seemed to value Daenerys as a person more than the two men who spent the most time around her before - Jorah and Daario, both of whom were in love with her.

Tyrion being yet another advisor to fall in love with Daenerys just feels absolutely ridiculous and unnecessary. Of course as soon as it started circulating that Tyrion’s feelings for Dany were of a romantic nature and not just admiration - as I first thought - the anti section of the fandom - which you all know I spend A LOT of time browsing around in - threw up their hands and rolled their eyes and really, I did too. It’s like, no man can resist Daenerys and frankly, that DOES make her seem a bit like a Mary Sue which also makes me mad.

3) As stated above, Tyrion and Dany’s relationship always made me think that Tyrion was the positive father figure Dany never had. Giving her advice about men, reassuring her she’d find love again, telling her he believes in her...it all felt super fatherly. And to go from believing their relationship was familial at most to finding out Tyrion was romantically in love with her did feel gross. I suppose I’ll have to go back and rewatch Season 5 on to try to reconcile these feelings but it has made me really upset. I feel more betrayed by this storyline than I would be by dark!Dany or even Jonsa, honestly.

And to think that this very likely may lead to what the leaks say, I’m just so fucking pissed, especially at Tyrion. Obviously, I’m assuming a lot here and I probably shouldn’t be so judgemental before S8 airs but again, what would the point of Tyrion’s feelings be if not for this outcome? If the leaks are true and it’s because of Tyrion’s feelings, then I’m just...this is it. There’s no forgiving Tyrion if he let’s his feelings for Dany affect him that much.

4) When I said Tyrion had nothing to bring to a relationship save his intelligence - I legitimately was not referring to his looks here and I feel physically sick people thought that though I can see how it was taken that way with my idiotic wording and bad post organization due.

I meant - Tyrion has no allies whatsoever in Westeros when he and Dany come to Dragonstone. The whole point of freeing Dany up for a marriage alliance was to bring something - lands - and/or someone - lords - to the table. Even if Dany made Tyrion Warden of the West - the Lords in the Westerlands may not want him as their Warden and may resent him, therefore a “political marriage” to Tyrion, Warden of the West, would be pointless. Tyrion killed his father for goodness sake. It is very possible there aren’t many - if any - in the Westerlands who trust him or want him as their Warden/Lord of Casterly Rock even though he would be great in that role and definitely deserves it.

And also, I meant Tyrion is directly serving Dany. A lord in Westeros who doesn’t have allegiance to Dany but could marry her to bring a portion of Westeros to her side 1) wouldn’t be her subordinate when those negotiations would take place as she wouldn’t be said Lord’s queen yet (say someone from the Stormlands or the Riverlands...somewhere that hadn’t already sworn to her) and 2) wouldn’t have been serving directly under her for the last three years. Like, it would be frowned down upon to date your boss but you could date someone from another company/profession who’s of a higher position than you without that “conflict of interest.”

5) And Jon is canonically very attractive/“pretty” and Dany canonically likes “beautiful”/attractive men - like Daario. Book Tyrion is especially not beautiful though yes, Peter Dinklage is an attractive man - especially with that scar makeup and facial hair. Could Dany have fallen in love with Tyrion for his personality? Possibly. In the show though, he’s always seemed too patronizing for her to fall in love with him - yet another thing that totally had me reading their relationship as father/daughter.

Anyway, I’ll stop now before I put my foot even further into my mouth. I just wanted to get that off my chest.

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paperclipninja · 6 years ago

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Younger post-ep ramble 5x12

Ok, we made it, we’re here. Now proudly donning my ‘I survived Younger Season 5’ commemorative t-shirt, there were moments in the lead up when I thought the anticipation for ‘Lizability’ might actually be the end of me. But nope, managed to survive that and then, miraculously, survive the finale itself (though there were a couple of parts that had me teetering, can you say FOUNTAIN SCENE). As always, I have many thoughts and feelings, all of which I will lay out in this final episode ramble for the season. So switch out your night driving glasses for your reading ones, there is a lot to unpack.

Straight off the bat we get my favourite terrible person, Cheryl Sussman. Taking Liza on the tour of Plaza, she does her best to try and remind us why we should hate her by talking up her company while dissing our beloved Empirical (her calling it a floundering family publishing house felt akin to when you’re snarky about your own family but if someone else says a bad word, HELL NO). But then, as she’s complimenting Liza on her work at Millennial and Liza once again points out she didn’t do it on her own, Cheryl comes out with ‘now’s not the time to hide your light under a bushel’. So now my feelings are confused. I know Cheryl is a bad egg (oh yes, I am HERE for the Chick(y) puns) but her unabashed directness means that she also sees Liza’s talent and won’t let her credit all the success to Kelsey and you get the sense that she might actually be legitimately valued in her own right in this workplace (not to mention Cheryl outright saying that theirs is not an ageist company).

Cue the offer to run her own imprint with the most cringe worthy name a marketing team ever spent ages coming up with. It’s so bad it’s great (I could just hear someone from marketing saying, “I know, let’s put the ‘y’ in brackets for…wait for it…the y chromosome so that it’s clear we’re not just an imprint for women” and the team all high fiving each other before cracking open a bottle of sparkling rose that was left over from the Christmas party). Of course no matter how peachy it’s all sounding, we know that the fact Cheryl knows about Liza’s relationship with Charles is going to be used against her at some point, so any confused feelings are quickly quashed when Cheryl throws her own pun into the mix, that this Chick(y) is ready to hatch, and struts off. Ugh, she’s the worst. I love her.

Back at Empirical, Kelsey is blindsided by the news that there is a Captiol Letters party being hosted in Washington that she knows nothing about. Zane enjoys every moment of questioning Kelsey in front of her colleagues and Kelsey’s attempt to save face by telling Charles she’s heading there leads to a conversation I was hoping would happen this season. I suspected that Charles knew there was something going on between Jake and Kelsey and Kelsey and Zane. Peter Hermann is really such a remarkable actor because in the eps leading up this one, during each interaction with Jake or Zane about the book, and even last episode when Kelsey squeezed Zane’s cheeks at the cabaret show, a contemplative expression flashed across Charles’ face as he was piecing together these separate interactions and conversations. Him confronting Kelsey about her relationship with Jake, and also indicating that he knew she and Zane had something going on, was what I needed. It was ensuring she was held accountable as well as an opportunity to make her aware of Zane’s actions in refusing to poach the book.

While we’re in Charles’ office, I’d like to touch on a scene that I really loved and that was the Charles, Kelsey and Liza moment talking about what’s going to happen, following Charles’ meeting with Quinn. Admittedly, Kelsey not understanding what Charles initially says raises some questions about her business acumen, but the conversation between the three of them once the news of Millennial becoming the flagship brand is revealed was the first time I’ve seen them talk together like this (and I really enjoyed seeing Kelsey and Liza’s disbelief and elation). Liza pointing out she’s been perpetuating fraud and that both of them are complicit and the glance Charles shot at Kelsey, Kelsey saying in front of Charles that Liza can’t leave, that she can’t do this without her, it’s like these three are bound by the shared secret and their care of Liza and I felt like I caught a glimpse of the potential for the three of them to hang out. I’m not suggesting that Charles and Kelsey are suddenly going to have a blossoming friendship, rather that Charles being out for drinks or the like with the gang, a notion that I’m dying to see but can’t quite wrap my head around, suddenly became plausible and possible in this moment for me.

The most striking part of this scene was the way both Liza and Charles changed the moment Kelsey left the room. You could see them both relax into the comfort of just the two of them, the way Liza says, ‘you know I’m right’ immediately readjusted the power dynamic to that of two equals and transitioned the conversation to one between partners rather than colleagues. Liza reminds Charles of her desire for a career and his smile when she says that by leaving they’ll have ‘us’ was a sweet bonus. Charles trusting Liza’s judgement about Kelsey and talking through his next steps with her further reinforced that he values and respects her opinion and guidance. The one thing this scene absolutely solidified for me was how much I would give (read: A LOT) to see these two team up and become a publishing power couple, seriously, I know that won’t ever happen on Younger but I would be all over that and am already picturing a good cop/bad cop nerdish negotiation scenario and yes, take my money, I’m here for it.

Speaking of negotiations, our billionaire friend Quinn reappeared this week and I thoroughly enjoyed hearing her actually conducting business and talking about putting together a group of investors etc. Don’t get me wrong, in her lunch meeting with Charles the flirt was on as she told him she wants to put her money where her passion is, but I liked her assertiveness around having a specific strategy for saving Empirical. I love this character, she is like the good witch version of Cheryl Sussman (I think. I want her to be good so I’m sticking with this until I see otherwise). And I especially loved her after the conversation with Liza. Quinn and Liza together = yes please. I want them to become friends or at least have some kind of relationship where they go out for drinks together or SOMETHING, because Quinn in business mode not accepting any of Liza’s reasons for leaving Millennial and not relenting until Liza came straight out with the truth….YES! This moment was so so good. From Quinn’s reaction (a shout out to the expression on Laura Benanti’s face in that moment) and Liza saying that the optics aren’t good now that Quinn knows, to Quinn’s response that the optics aren’t good either for firing someone who’s fighting against ageism then offering to celebrate it, it was such a glorious unfolding of events. Of course Quinn goes straight to how it can be beneficial for business and I LOVE that Liza shoots back with the fact it’s good for Claw. And possibly my favourite part of this scene, when Quinn feigns that she never even thought of that, Liza throws chapter 4 straight back at her and Quinn says see, you already know I’m not going to let you go and this kind of intelligent, witty back and forth between two women who clearly respect one another is what I want to see Liza have in her friendships. Make this happen Darren.

The other person I need Liza to be going out for drinks with is Diana and this was reinforced by their interaction the morning in the office when Diana believes the relationship with Enzo may be over. I love that Liza can tell something is wrong and when she asks, Diana tells her rather than shuts her out. Oh how far these two have come! Diana’s hurt is so deep and real and Liza’s attempt to console her with ‘even when you know it won’t work, it’s still hard when it doesn’t’ (which of course is very applicable to Liza’s current conundrum) does not fall on deaf ears, despite Diana’s stone faced request for espresso. The cause of this angst is of course the fallout of the Fatburg Five conversation in Enzo’s new apartment the night before. A few weeks ago I was convinced that there would be a Diana/Enzo (what are we calling them? Enzana? Dizo?) proposal, but that idea took a back seat considering the big move to the big smoke and I’m cool with that considering the events that unfolded between Dizo (maybe?) this ep.

Diana’s first reaction to Enzo’s big news, that she’s proud of him, was lovely but that quickly spiralled downward as the Fatberg Five scenario was outlined and Diana lost it (‘alliteration is just my Achilles’ - same Diana, same). Diana laughing at duty, omg, seeing her be so juvenile and giggly was bizarre and hilarious, but juxtaposed with Enzo wanting to be taken seriously and feeling like Diana thinks he’s ridiculous was heartbreaking. So this scene was just an emotional washing machine really. What it did pave the way for though, was a panicked Diana fleeing the office upon seeing the Fatberg Fracas breaking news shouting, ‘nobody flush anything!’ in a way only Younger could pull off, before arriving at the scene to declare that she’s his girlfriend and barging through the barricade. Diana Trout in that gorgeous coat and that necklace hugging a sewage soaked Enzo as her relief radiated from my screen will forever be etched in my mind. I mean, if clubbing eels to death wasn’t enough of an indication of her feelings for this man, cupping his face as she stood there with actual shit on hers certainly is. This is a woman in love and I’m moving my Enzana (feeling it or nay?) proposal prediction to season 6.

Speaking of predictions, in lieu of a proposal, I had thought we might get an ‘I love you’ moment between Diana and Enzo but instead that (well, sort of that) came from the last place I was expecting, Zane. When Kelsey confronted him about not poaching Jake’s book feeling all affronted, because she seems to think that people only ever do anything to get one over her or undermine her (I have had issues with Kelsey this season and I won’t unload those here, but seriously, she needs some introspection and maybe some help with that insecurity), and Zane dropped the ‘because I was in love you’ line I was very much in the WTF??? camp. I’ve only just started getting to know you Zane, I’m not ready for that kind of declaration! Kelsey’s response, that ‘you don’t say that to someone in the past tense for the first time unless you’re trying to make them feel like an asshole’ was pretty astute, because I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what he was trying to do. I realise I sound way harsh here, but other than enjoying their professional competitiveness, I have little to no investment in their relationship outside the workplace, so for others this may have been a bigger moment than to me. I did like that it brought home the fact that Kelsey’s actions do have ramifications and that it’s not always about winning, as Zane pointed out (I also liked that he knew about the new structure and says that he talks to Charles too, it was a nice reminder that he is her equal. Well, was). My favourite moment between Zane and Kelsey this episode was when he quit and Kelsey realised he already has another job (I SO want it to be heading up Chick(y)), the way he flashed that smile as the elevator doors closed was a pretty boss move and one heck of a way to exit. Game on between these two next season.

I appreciated that Josh and Maggie’s conversation opened with Maggie apologising for Malkie asking for his seed over dessert, as only Maggie could. It provided a nice bridge and showed that the events of ‘Lizability’ followed straight on from the last episode. I do enjoy Josh and Maggie’s friendship and Josh saying that for Maggie, he would have gone through with the donation, was such a sweet moment. It’s moments like this that remind me how much I like Josh as a character, when this sensitive, loving and kind side of him is on display. Josh and Lauren’s is another friendship I so thoroughly enjoy (as you may recall, I just love Lauren in general) and her response to Josh’s deliberation about impending fatherhood when Josh suggested talking it out over some tacos, ‘adorable, but no’, lead to the calling of the cacao mother, a concept so absurd that it should have provided a giant lol but instead provided a poignant and rather beautiful sequence. Now I feel like I need to provide a huge disclaimer here, so please bear with me. I am on Team Charles until the cows come home and I will be the first to jump on the float leading the Charliza parade when these two get their HEA, however I try to watch and ramble about these episodes as objectively as possible, which believe it or not, sometimes takes numerous re-watches (it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it…actually, they probably don’t but whatever) just so I can distance myself from my own shipper bias. While I don’t condone or like the way Josh has behaved towards Liza on countless occasions and I have made it known that the love triangle trope is one that I am tired of and needs to die, I am still invested in Josh’s character being revived and given his own life and happiness. Which brings us to THE dream sequence.

The crafting of this scene and the follow up comments to Lauren and later Maggie, are so brilliantly ambiguous and while on one hand the intention (to provide a crutch to the limping corner of the triangle, ugh) drives me nuts, the brilliance comes from the fact that I can also see this scene as closing the triangle off. This is undeniably a gift to the Team Josh fans, a chance to see their ultimate hope for the show realised and you know what, after this season, if I was a fan of that pairing I’d be beside myself with happiness to be given such an image, except for the baby part. Because no matter whether I was a shipper, a casual viewer or was just here for Diana’s necklaces (I mean let’s be real, who isn’t?) as someone who is invested in all the characters and actually saw and heard the very clear articulation by Liza on numerous occasions that she does NOT want another baby, I cannot accept that the writers would ever push that point again. I have to have faith that the writers would never support the persistence of changing a woman’s mind over something so significant and reduce her choice to something that can be altered through some misguided notion of romance. And that includes raising a baby with Josh that isn’t hers and I swear to god, if I see the argument again that if Liza is with Charles she’d be a step-parent so it’s the same, I would ask you to kindly spend time with a new baby vs. a 7 and 5 year old who also have a mother they live with half the time, because one of these things is not like the other. Ok, now that’s out of my system, back to my point…

While in one way the dream sequence ignites hope for those who feared Josh’s tattoo cover up signalled the end of his feelings for Liza, to me it is simultaneously sad and moving. The reality is, the two things that Josh wants are mutually exclusive and he knows that. Lauren and Josh’s, ‘did you get your answer?’, ‘Yeah I think I did’ exchange was laced with enough ambiguity to leave Josh shippers beside themselves and Charles shippers, well, beside themselves. There is enough room here to inject your own interpretation and bend it to suit your desire for this show, which, regardless of how you feel about the outcome as far as a pairing goes, is brilliant writing and execution. So what is my interpretation? The follow up conversation with Maggie (Josh’s ‘I cacao-ed about it’ was so fab), in which Josh says that he’s decided that when he does have a kid, he wants it to be his kid and wants it to be with somebody he really loves, cements for me that Josh and Liza’s future will be one of platonic love and support. I’m not suggesting that they’ll be parked in that space any time soon, I’m optimistic not deluded, and as much as it pains me, they clearly want to draw out this illusion of a triangle for as long as possible.

There’s a very good chance I’m over-analysing (who, me?!) and I’m clearly projecting my own hope onto this, but Josh doesn’t say he wants to raise a child with someone he loves, he wants to have that child with them. And as we know, that door has closed for Liza. So back to my point about Josh knowing that he cannot have a child with Liza, that those two pieces, child and Liza, cannot go together. To me, he is confirming in his conversation to Maggie that his answer to Lauren’s question is in fact, that the piece he is sure of is the child. So I see this dream signifying that Josh’s desire for a child is unwavering and his desire to find someone he loves the way he loves/loved Liza to share that with is ignited; that Liza appearing in that dream represented the kind of love he wants to have with and for the person he has children with.

Then of course Lauren’s hysterical scream and declaration that ‘the cacao mother, we called her and she is here’ led to the most predicted ‘surprise’ of the finale, pregnant Clare at the door. I know some people are saying that maybe it’s not Josh’s baby but why would she be there if it wasn’t? The only reason would be if their divorce wasn’t finalised, but I feel like that would be a cop out (not to mention, what person would fly when they’re about 5 minutes away from popping out a baby to just catch up with the ex or sign some papers? Puh-lease). When Clare and Josh were together in season 4 I actually thought they were a great match. I mean, I was a bit ‘meh’ on her character, but they seemed to work well, had common interests and I was up for seeing where that would go. So I am very curious to see how this plays out next season.

Now I find myself at one of my most favourite scenes of the entire series of Younger. Last ep I was on fire and this ep I was reduced to a puddle of emotions, so grab a mop and bucket, this swoon-fest is about to get real. Charles and Liza strolling through the park at night near the fountain, SWEET LAWD this scene is more than I ever imagined in my wildest dreams. First of all, we have been transported to a time and place where Charles has fallen out of the classics section of a bookstore and stepped straight from his horse and carriage with rolled up sleeves to become the narrator of his own love story. As he paints Liza and us the picture of how their romance will unfold, the way these two bounce off one another is effortless and playful, there is such ease in their banter. Liza screwing up her face, in response to Charles’ assurance that the two protagonists of his tale do not share a secret past, led to her jovially taking aim with a whole lot of the criticism that has been levelled at Charles on social media from time to time, ‘hmm, well, he’s a little stuffy, recently divorced, will they have any chemistry? Is he fun?’ (and can we please talk about the Charles Brooks facial expressions during this?? ARGHHHH) and no jokes I AM DYING at how meta this is. Seriously. DYING. The fact that Charles gets a right of reply and simply but firmly states, ‘well, she’ll just have to find out for herself’. This is EVERYTHING.

Then this scene takes it up a notch, with Liza prompting a page turn by adding her own offering, ‘let’s say she says ‘yes’. They go to dinner, and…’ Charles becomes so animated and alive in this moment, with the look on his face as he responds, ‘maybe they click’ leading to commencement of melting into a puddle stage 1. He brings the story to life in all its third person narrative glory, through the vivid imagery and tender delivery of, ‘maybe he can hold her hand at the office, and in the street, everywhere. The way he has wanted to do, for as long as he can remember’ and it’s nothing short of sublime (time of death: now) and LIZA I’M GONNA THROW YOUR DAMN PHONE IN THAT FREAKING FOUNTAIN SO HELP ME WOMAN. Though I do love that Charles asks, ‘is she going to get that?’ to which Liza replies, ‘she’d rather not’.

But what I love even more is that when asked if everything’s alright, Liza says ‘of course not’, shows Charles the messages from Cheryl and he then pulls out his own pun in response to all those chick(y) emoji’s with, ‘you can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs’. It takes a special kind of person to be able to bring wordplay and an idiom together with such precision to provide actual encouragement relevant to a given situation, but Charles Brooks is that person. And Liza’s initial laugh in appreciation is only amplified by Charles adding, ‘it’s Hamlet’ and I just can’t with these two, honestly. I initially thought that the Hamlet reference was purely to be absurd, but as some astute people pointed out, the musical ‘Something Rotten!’ contains both Shakespeare and the song ‘Make an Omelette’, so I have no doubt this was a nod to that and the fact that Christian Borle (who you may remember as Don Ridley in eps 4 and 5 this season, as well as being Sutton Foster’s ex-husband) was the star of this musical, I am going to be sweeping up the fragments of fourth wall that shattered in this scene for days.

Liza must of course then go and break those eggs and provide us all with a good dose of second-hand awkwardness as she arrives at the Chick(y) party, discovers she’s the guest of honour (we were all with her as she muttered ‘Oh God’ at spotting the peep of chicks awaiting her arrival) and gets to tell Cheryl, who is gulping wine while yelling ‘did you bring the contract?’ that actually no, she won’t be taking the job after all. Angry Cheryl is angry and it’s not long before we discover the ramifications of Liza turning down the role.

When Quinn greets Charles with ‘we have a problem’, you just know that it’s not to do with acceptable font sizes in the workplace. As Quinn shows Charles the blind item claiming that he is having a torrid affair with a 27 year old assistant, we all know exactly what Cheryl decided to do following Liza’s rejection and I tell you what, the vindictiveness exceeded even my expectations. Firstly, Cheryl knows that Liza is not 27 so putting that in the blind item can only be to bring Charles into disrepute and oust Liza to anyone who knows her as a 27 year old and secondly, Cheryl emails this to the investors whose money Empirical is relying on for survival. That’s right, Cheryl Sussman is willing to topple an entire company because she’s butt hurt that someone rejected a job she offered them. In this moment, she has achieved legit super-villain status and I love-hate her even more.

As Quinn confirms with Charles that this is in fact true, the reality of him having an affair with an assistant in his office, despite it being consensual, cannot be spun in any way that makes it not controversial (and I need to comment that I loved Charles saying ‘Liza is not 27, as you know’ - it was a little snippet that let us know that Liza told him she revealed the truth to Quinn, that she and Charles continue to talk openly and honestly with one another). Knowing that as the public face of the company the investors will pull out after this revelation, Charles’ decision to step down is him doing what he has to in order for the company to survive and I cannot tell you how happy I am that this decision was driven by the business, not his relationship with Liza. Yes, the decision is a consequence of the relationship, but that is something he is willingly a part of, it is not Liza’s lie about her age that has caused the issue. And I’m not meaning to diminish the idea that some people have that this was some kind of purely romantic gesture, but he really did not have a choice in that moment but to remove himself from scrutiny if Empirical/Millennial was to continue to operate. And I’m glad. The pressure on the relationship and on Liza had this been a sacrifice made purely for her or them would be so enormous and no doubt lead to serious problems down the track.

When Charles and Quinn announce the news about Millennial becoming the flagship brand and Kelsey’s promotion to Publisher, Diana’s look summed it up really. It’s ok Diana, it’s not just you, Kelsey in that role is flat out bonkers, but on the flipside, if Millennial is now the main brand it does sort of make sense that she take the lead. I have no doubt that Charles’ questions to Liza over the past couple of episodes about Kelsey’s ability to run Millennial will play out next season, just as the fact Liza is there would have factored into Charles feeling comfortable suggesting Kelsey take on the role in the first place. When Charles’ new role is announced, the way he looks at Liza in that moment, as though he is reminding himself why this will be all worth it, omg. puddle. me.

Diana isn’t buying it and I wonder if she thinks Kelsey and Quinn set this up, her disbelief that Charles would accept being put out to pasture serves to enlighten Liza about what actually just went down (oh Liza, you sweet innocent unicorn you). Diana definitely notices Liza’s reaction and her running out of the office, I feel like surely Charles and Liza’s relationship, at the very least, will need to come out pretty quickly next season and at this stage, Diana being left in dark about Liza’s age feels a bit off too. I know that Diana’s role won’t really change at work, but I just really dislike that she doesn’t fully understand the whole context around her and the reasons for these changes taking place.

As Charles is walking away from the office he’s shaking his head, as though he hasn’t had any time to process any of it and is in disbelief at what just happened and the fact it’s real. This is probably not unreasonable considering that this enormous change has occurred within the space of about a day it would seem, so you know, the uprooting of all you’ve known for the majority of your adult life is bound to require some processing.

Which brings us, of course, to the final scene of the season. Liza discovering that Quinn was going to pull the investment because she found out about the relationship leads to Liza’s despair that ‘this isn’t a good thing, this is your life’, to which Charles reassures her that ‘it was, but maybe it’s time for a new one’. With her (puddle). Oh and his kids. As Charles asserts that he has everything he wants, you can see Liza scrutinising his face to see whether he is telling the truth or trying to put her at ease, so when he adds, ‘I’m happy’, she exhales, realising that this really is what he wants. Their shared moment of realisation that this is it, accompanied by her small laugh of disbelief and relief before she adds, ‘then so am I’, transposes their relationship from the place of longing and one day, where it has resided until now, to the world Charles described in the story he told beside the fountain; a place where they can hold hands in the street, everywhere. In that moment they look at one another as if to say, we’re finally here.

As Charles reaches out to caress her face it’s as though he’s bridging that gap between where they were and where they now find themselves. Seeing them kiss in broad daylight in the middle of the park, I realised that despite all their wonderful, beautiful moments since being together, the secrecy has been emphasised by the evening rendezvous or stolen stairway kisses and the impact of the daylight to highlight their relationship being brought out into the open is significant. When Charles outstretched his hand and took Liza’s I’m not gonna lie, I shed a tear. I was suddenly so struck with emotion in that moment, yes, because the dream outlined in the story earlier in the episode was realised, but it also felt like the culmination of every time that Charles and Liza almost were but weren’t, their seasons of un-synchronized passion and desire all building to this moment when they could take one another’s hand. And as they walked, hand in hand, the only sure thing being that they are finally together, the uncertainty of everything else suddenly dawns on them.

Their expressions in those final seconds are not of regret or remorse to me. They are of two people who have had zero time to process any of the events and upheaval that have occurred in the past 24 hours. Only moments earlier Charles was donning a similar look of contemplation before he was intercepted by Liza. Liza has only just heard the news that Charles is stepping down and she and Kelsey will be running Millennial. Walking hand in hand, in the comfort of each other’s company, they are able to begin working through the events and ramifications and what that means for each of them. Their desire for this to work is unwavering, I believe that they both had expected it to transpire quite differently and so, of course, they will now readjust and navigate this new normal. Together.

#youngertv #younger tv #liza miller #charles brooks #kelsey peters #diana trout #tv land #ramble #review #5x12 #team charles #liza x charles

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gurguliare · 6 years ago

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ooh ooh. can you dvd commentary "the wine we fought for" from "Are you a masochist, Schonkopf?" to "Schonkopf felt a fleeting moment of pity for that one other person, whose life and honor the firebombing must have saved"?

MY PLEASURE, THANKS. sorry this is super long because you picked a fresh ‘un.

“Are you a masochist, Schonkopf?” he said.

“Who, me?”

I obviously love Yang and Schonkopf’s stupid conversations in-show for a lot of reasons, but one is that Yang is a little less sure of his footing around Schonkopf than e.g. academy friends (and has reason to be!), so he puts more effort into actively turning the tables when he’s uncomfortable. He also spends less time playing dumb, I think because he finds Schonkopf’s incitement-to-revolt genuinely worrying and doesn’t want to give it any quarter—Schonkopf seems willing to take anything less than a flat denial as encouragement, so this makes some sense. Actually, Schonkopf might take encouragement from a flat denial, which is presumably why Yang always hears him out first, to make a point out of “it’s not that I don’t trust you enough to share my secret ambitions, it’s that I trust you and I DON’T HAVE SECRET AMBITIONS.” I also like that Yang’s efforts to wrongfoot him often work, at least a little, although he’s a recovery artist. But his recoveries involve digging himself deeper in/showing more of his hand, as far as personal investment is concerned.

“Well, take this. I can’t imagine you’d enjoy seeing me paired off. It would offend your sense of justice—and rightly so. How can a man like me go courting?” With his free hand he drew a line across his neck. For the guillotine? “As for your other demands… If I seized control of the government, your life would become very boring. Subduing the populace, night raids—for a man of your talents, it’s a snore. We’d never go to war again. And yet you go on asking me to take up the mantle of power.”

I do think Yang kind of equates “Schonkopf urging dictatorship upon me” and “Schonkopf meddling in my love life.” Which is interesting, because… in some ways the show wants to set up the desire for a happy private life and the pressure to seize power (and protect himself) as opposing drives in Yang’s life, but obviously for Yang himself they both represent an unconscionable turn toward self-interest—toward self-interest and away from his obligation to, uh, all the people he’s blown up. I don’t know that Vermilion is really about Overcoming The Guilt so much as it is discovering a little humility; in targeting Reinhard and proposing to Frederica he’s slightly overriding the control freak instinct that says “you hold the ultimate power here and will fuck everything up personally.” But it’s charming to me when people are like “??? why doesn’t Yang ignore the order for the sake of the greater good,” when it’s made pretty explicit that if Yang were following his idea of a straight consequentialist agenda, he wouldn’t fight Reinhard at all…….. Well, and there’s more to it than that, because part of Yang’s brand of consequentialism is trying to force himself out of the headspace that believes perfectly informed decisions can ever be made by fumbling individuals. Still.

That said, I feel “your job would suck under the Yang Regime” is a pretty compelling argument and one Schonkopf should lend further consideration

“You’ve confused me with yourself,” Schonkopf said, after a pause. “A man so afraid of being bored, he closes his eyes to everything that might disappoint him.”

Yang blinked. But Schonkopf had warmed to his subject. “Now, me—though it might involve some personal sacrifice, I would find matters to interest me in your dictatorship. And if you were in love… ‘Yang Wen-li, laid low by passion!’ I admit, you’re not a natural. Is there any part you’re a natural for? But as we’ve discussed—you’re not a bad student.”

The most unrealistic part of this fic is the idea that this would in any way strike Yang as an odd or unprofessional thing for Schonkopf to say. But as I discovered while editing this scene, there’s actually no line weird enough that it DOES make sense as a trigger for Yang’s realization. I made the sort of boring decision while writing that… characterization-wise I am okay with Yang moving things along here, on the basis that Yang is interested in letting off some steam and has entered into that kind of self-soothing mindset he’ll increasingly show on the road to Vermilion. And I think if Yang were going to choose any time to hit on Schonkopf, or better yet blindside Schonkopf by arbitrarily declaring Schonkopf to have hit on him, it would certainly be as part of a high-level deflection away from one (1) question he doesn’t want to answer about Frederica and/or himself as a person who experiences positive desire. In this case actually it wasn’t a question, it was just Schonkopf suggesting he reach out to a grieving friend. Yang: What? No!!

Yang is also kind of the Aslan of LOGH in that whenever a person comes to him about a third party’s possible crush on him, he’s like, “no, I’m going to tell you about your crush now. no one is told any incriminating details but their own.”

He leaned forward; and for once, Yang didn’t shrink away. Emboldened, Schonkopf wiggled his fingers in Yang’s face, invoking the spirit of a fairy godmother over a pumpkin. Yang moved his head to one side and squinted. “Are you making a pass at me?”

With the body language I did want to convey that Schonkopf has overshot his normal careful boundary-testing, partly because he’s feeling “vulnerable” about the one-sidedness of his investment—that’s part of what him ordering the autopsy under his own authority and then feeling weird about it is supposed to set up, though I don’t know if it works.

It was natural to lower his hand. It was natural to smile pedantically, as if letting himself in on the joke.

I’m happy with this line because for me it immediately evokes OVA Schonkopf’s whole face situation.

“I can’t say I’d thought of it. But for you, Admiral, I would make an exception…”

One question that it might be reasonable to address, now that I’ve gotten into it about all these… characterization considerations, for a very short and unimpassioned relationship upgrade scene… is why I didn’t just have Schonkopf initiate. And the answer is, because Schonkopf is a cowardly opportunist! Of sorts. I mean, he’s not Yang-level, but we see with Katerose how unwilling he is to go out of his way to do anything that might involve inconvenience for him, and I don’t think he’s so attracted to Yang he’d consider it worth the risk. Maybe. I mean, in general he’s not the sort of person who “risks” things for sex. It depends how you picture both FPA culture and the culture within the military, but I think especially in the first half of the show Schonkopf doesn’t seem confident enough about where to place Yang in any of that, even just as an “unsoldierly” person with all these performative civilian aspirations, that he’d put himself out there without some sign of interest from Yang. I think also with both Yang and Frederica he has this pre-emptive sour grapes thing of like, I don’t have a chance so I’m going to sublimate all my energy into weird interrogations of their joint ward, which Julian calls him out on in the one target practice scene, lol.

“No, really.” Schonkopf eased his weight off the desk and raised an eyebrow, a half a beat too late. Yang was practically glowing. His eyes had popped open. Disgusted, Schonkopf understood that he was ignoring any implications: he had the silly, brazen look he got when alone with an ideal puzzle. “I thought you were sour Frederica turned you down,” Yang stage-whispered, putting his hand flat on the desk in a covert slap of triumph. “I was too narrowminded. General, if you have a complaint—”

Yang is so dumb lol. None of the above commentary is meant to imply that this isn’t a genuine lightbulb moment for him, at least on a conscious level. Yang: “huh, this hot guy is constantly up in my business, I guess I can leverage his curiosity as loyalty” —> “ohhhhh he cares about me as a PERSON i can use him for SEX”

He paused. I should have timed it, Schonkopf thought, and folded his arms.

“How curious,” said Yang, leaning back. “I seem to have lost my head. I apologize if I said something in bad taste. It was a joke. Uh, a test?”

I wrote a less halfassed version of this and then had to ask myself whether Yang would put any effort whatsoever into offering someone ELSE a graceful exit.

Schonkopf shook his head. His arms stayed crossed. Yang stared up at him, and stifled a yawn. When the silence had gone on another moment, he appeared to sag. “This is difficult. Usually, the other person makes a move, and we’re interrupted by a firebombing,” he offered. “Well, I say usually. It’s only happened the once…”

“How would you know?” Schonkopf said, kissing him.

He felt Yang tense. The change was harsh. But, equally quickly, he relaxed, and even moved with the kiss. His hands settled on Schonkopf’s shoulders. Schonkopf felt a fleeting moment of pity for that one other person, whose life and honor the firebombing must have saved.

Anyway, my favorite thing about writing this scene was just that Schonkopf doesn’t know who Jessica Edwards is. Could Yang pull this line on Frederica? He could not! But Schonkopf, while a stalker, isn’t one of those weird stalkers who knows your dead friends’ names. Here, that puts him at a disadvantage.

“life and honor” — I like this bit because, although it’s just a joke, I enjoyed making Schonkopf be wrong in this fic, in general, as a dramatic irony thing but also because I like when characters are wryly, ruefully, or resignedly wrong. Like, they put some thought into this! Still wrong. And often the way in which they are wrong shows a real lack of imagination about how many different things can fail terribly—sure, getting emotionally involved with Yang is a bad idea and about to become a much worse one, but disengaging didn’t save Jessica. Yang is not the be-all and end-all of horrors awaiting anyone in LOGH universe, and it’s important that Schonkopf can’t see beyond that for even a second.

#akitania #no one expects the fannish inquisition #my analysis of my analysis.#logh tag

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