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butterflydm · 2 years ago

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wot reread: a crown of swords (chap 26 - end)

spoilers for a crown of swords

Current book ranking (strongest to weakest): The Fires of Heaven; Lord of Chaos; The Shadow Rising; The Dragon Reborn; A Crown of Swords; The Great Hunt; Eye of the World. I had a hard time figuring out where ACoS fits tbh. The things I dislike about it, I dislike VERY MUCH, but there are some genuinely amazing moments.

1. Up until this point in the series, the snippets we were getting of Morgase were actually working for me, but in this chapter, it’s just pointless trauma (and yet another example of consent issues in this specific book - she sleeps with Valda because he demands it and she feared the Questioners and then gets treated like trash afterwards when he lets the Questioners interrogate her anyway). Of this nineteen page chapter, we needed maybe two pages of it instead of the narrative luxuriating in Morgase’s misery (and, as a bonus, we get Breane shaming her for feeling traumatized and telling her that she’s a coward for not sucking it up and moving on already).

2. Anyway, there are two important things in this chapter: the Seanchan have invaded Altara and Morgase escapes at the end. I don’t really consider Morgase’s abdication all that important tbh considering that almost everyone assumes she’s dead already. Honestly, I feel like we didn’t really need this Seanchan scene at all -- the invasion of Ebou Dar at the end of the book is enough and would have come as more of a punch without this scene happening here. I guess it’s suppose to serve as our refresher on Seanchan culture, which remains terrible (also Suroth, who readers know is a Darkfriend, is still in charge atm). But in case we’ve forgotten: Slaves wear transparent robes that leave their bodies essentially exposed at all times; women who can channel are always property, and the Seanchan believe they have a right to own everything they want the second they want it.

3. Time for Perrin to split off into his own storyline. He and Rand staged a fight where they fought over the treatment of the Aes Sedai prisoners under the Wise Ones’ care. Perrin felt at one point during the fight that Rand might kill him for real. He and Faile and over a dozen other people are all heading off. Faile has taken a bunch of people into “her service” as she likes to do. They meet up with the Two Rivers men and a bunch of Wise Ones and a couple of Aes Sedai and Berelain’s people and a couple of asha’man. It’s a whole lot of people going off on this secret mission. The asha’man open up a Gateway for them to pop over to the west side of the continent. Sulin is one of the Aiel that’s going off with Perrin, which makes me sad about losing that connection with her and Rand. But I guess only Min is allowed to connect to Rand these days so we have to get Sulin out of there because she considers Rand a first-brother.

4. Loial is also going off on his own, with Karldin, one of the asha’man, to pop around to the steddings and see about getting all the Waygates guarded. Aw, Loial is worried about where Mat is. Yeah, you should be; he’s in a terrible pickle. He also worried that Rand will send Min away next. We should only be so lucky, but we’re stuck with her and their relationship, I’m afraid.

5. We learn that the married asha’man have figured out their own version of the Warder bond to use with their wives (and we only get acknowledgment that straight asha’man exist at this point). Honestly, this ‘wedding bond’ of theirs is sweet. I feel like Jordan will make me regret feeling that way, but it seems sweet for now, based on what we know, lol.

6. Perrin curses Rand for sticking him with Berelain but I don’t remember him telling Rand about Berelain trying to chase him. There is a certain amount of... irony?... in the fact that the whole reason that Rand is sending Berelain away is because he himself is also attracted to her (he tried to send her back to Mayene first). In general, the whole vibe around the Berelain situation just gets more sexist the further along into the books we get and it didn’t start out great. The official reason that Berelain is along is so that she can talk to Queen Alliandre of Ghealdan, ruler to ruler, to let her know that their army isn’t there to invade. And Perrin’s official job is to tell Masema to stop threatening and frightening people into following Rand and then take him and any of his people who want to go back along to Rand. I’m sure he will take care of that with the same swiftness that he used in LoC when he rescued Rand from the Aes Sedai!

7. Chapter twenty-eight focuses mostly on the horrific Mat-Tylin situation. She harasses him and then makes sure to jump away and look innocent before anyone else can spot her behavior. Mat is... desperate for other company to try to put her off, desperate not to be around her. He’s trapped and it only gets worse. And this is where we see how the power disparity hurts Mat -- as queen, Tylin can ‘starve him out’ and all of her people will work together to try to break him for her pleasure.

8. LoC!Olver felt like an actual kid that I didn’t mind reading about. ACoS!Olver is insufferable and I disown him.

9. lol, I like the bit where Elayne asks Mat to go somewhere be ‘be ta’veren’ for her. That part is funny/cute. Ah, they’re watching the place where the Circle was located (though Elayne and Nynaeve didn’t tell Mat that information). Nothing happens.

10. I do dislike that Mat apparently now... doesn’t like women. He’s attracted to women but has negative thoughts about them as human beings. This is a relatively new development; he did used to genuinely seem to LIKE women as well as be attracted to them, but now it’s a shock to him that he likes Birgitte as a person because she’s a woman and women are for sex but not for liking as people. This is very much a change from how Mat’s relationships with women and sex were portrayed in the past and I wonder if it wasn’t changed partly so that Jordan could justify Tylin’s behavior towards Mat. Because in order for her to be “turning the tables on him”, he needs to have the same attitude towards women that she does towards men (that they are for pleasure but aren’t actually people).

11. Chapter twenty-nine, Tylin rapes Mat for the first but far from the last time.

12. After Mat goes out for the day, he has to take Beslan with him, of course. Beslan is aware that his mother has made Mat her ‘pretty’ and has no issue with it. I’m not sure whether or not it matters to Beslan if it’s consensual? He seems to have the attitude that the choice is entirely Tylin’s and not Mat’s at all.

13. We get our fourth Darkfriend attack, this one on Mat & Co. Old Cully gets namedropped (not that Mat knows that the man is a high-ranking Darkfriend but we do).

14. We get a tiny hint of how the Kin don’t fully understand the White Tower culture that they worship and attempt to copy -- they believe that rank is organized by age and not by ability in the One Power, because that’s information that a woman doesn’t usually learn until after she gets the shawl, and none of the Kin have ever gained the shawl (that’s the whole point of them). Reanne suggests that every member of the Kin who doesn’t wear an Ebou Dari wise woman belt move to ‘the farm’ for a while.

15. Elayne is getting lectured for ‘revealing a secret’ that is only supposed to be known by women who have gained the shawl. As they are about to pass a punishment on her for revealing the Kin, there’s a message from the Whitecloak ambassador to let Elayne know the ~happy~ news that her mother is alive and a ~guest~ of Niall in Amador, which is very old and outdated news for the readers but brand new information for Elayne. She does not believe it in any case and her anger towards what she views as Carridan’s lies gives her fuel to stand up against the Aes Sedai trying to lecture her. Elayne is PISSED OFF about all the freaking secrets that the Aes Sedai keep from people and from each other (this is part of why she was so honest with Tylin at the end of LoC).

16. Elayne takes control of the embassy, essentially, and learns about the Kin and why the Aes Sedai have kept them secret -- they helped the White Tower maintain its aura of infallibility. And ELAYNE realizes that ‘what the White Tower knows’ about the Kin barely scratches the surface.

17. Moghedien spots Nynaeve in the streets of Ebou Dar. Recognizes her instantly. And then risks everything to chase after her and try to kill her. She tries to balefire Nynaeve but is startled by a pigeon at the last moment so balefires a slice through Nynaeve’s boat instead (ta’veren, I tell you, Nynaeve is ta’veren).

18. Very soon after Elayne gets an epic chapter, Nynaeve gets one. The Slog (tm) is very rough on our three ta’veren but Elayne, Nynaeve, and Egwene all get to shine. I hope that the show is able to improve Rand, Mat, & Perrin’s storylines while keeping the awesome that is happening especially for Elayne and Nynaeve in these books.

19. Ugh, tiny moment of ugliness that Nynaeve doesn’t realize is happening right before her eyes -- Tylin lent her an extremely expensive necklace as a ‘thank you’ for Nynaeve getting Mat to move into the palace and be readily available for Tylin to harass and assault.

20. But then we get to the meat of the chapter, when Nynaeve almost drowns (because of Moghedien’s weave) but instead is finally able to break through her block and channel freely. Congrats Nynaeve! Nynaeve realizes that she feels too hopeless and scared to be angry enough to channel and, at the final moment before it’s too late, she surrenders to saidar and is able to burst open the boat compartment that she was trapped in.

21. However, she is still about to drown due to being exhausted, so it is Convenient that Lan has just arrived in Ebou Dar (ta’veren, I tell you) and helps her get to a boat. When she realizes that Lan is there and she looks like a drowned rat, she embraces saidar again, easily this time, and channels herself dry. This scene is very genuinely romantic. Jordan can have one (1) right in this book when it comes to romance. Also this all sounds so very cinematic. I am kinda Team ‘Do we need Ebou Dar?’ but I do love this scene.

22. Oh, but then Jordan’s right immediately gets taken away as we get to Jordan’s obligatory Violence In Romantic Relationships Means Love as Nynaeve slaps Lan for being bonded to Myrelle and eventually punches him in the stomach (at least the fourth romance that involves the woman punching the man in the stomach) and doesn’t try, you know, asking him about it first. Use your freaking words, Nynaeve. I hate this for a couple of reasons: I hate that there’s so much violence in the romances in general and I also hate the whole ‘when women do a violence against a man it’s just a cutesy little woman thing that we don’t take seriously’, which is damaging in multiple different ways, both for women and men.

23. And this whole thing here is another reason I have a hard time believing that Jordan really did mean the Mat-Tylin situation as genuine commentary rather than ‘rompy sex comedy’, because he already normalizes violence in romantic/sexual relationships (as seen here and too many other places to mention). He’s also previously treated a woman ignoring a man saying ‘no’ as actually the woman doing what the man secretly WANTS her to do (in Rand x Min during LoC, when Rand explicitly tells her to stop kissing him goodbye like that). And in another Rand-Mat comparison, the man is given no privacy against the woman intruding on him whenever she wants - the Maidens letting Min without ever checking with Rand first is essentially the equivalent of Tylin having the key to Mat’s room. Mat-Tylin is a more extreme version of what Jordan is already doing in several other romances.

24. Once Lan is able to actually explain the situation to her, she realizes that he’s someone in the grips of what is essentially a sickness, the Warder grief from Moiraine’s bond to him snapping, and she extends him compassion and love. And she also makes him laugh when she asks him if there’s a way to make sure Myrelle would KNOW it’s her when she sleeps with Lan (because she’s sorta just proposed to him and says they should get married today). He tells her that her ship went down due to balefire and she realizes that Moghedien must be here hunting her. Nynaeve also realizes here that she’s not angry but still holding saidar and nearly falls over herself with delight. This scene would be so amazing if we just snipped Jordan’s endemic domestic violence out of it.

25. Elayne takes the Aes Sedai to go talk to the Kin, so she racks up another win here by marrying these two sides together. She gets to be very in control and quite queenly. She makes the offer to the Kin about the Amrylin wanting every woman who can channel to be connected to the Tower and the women are emotionally overwhelmed by this, because every woman here is someone who was REJECTED by the Tower and sent away for one reason or another (... I wonder if we’ll find out in Prime!verse that the old Wisdom of Emond’s Field knew of the Kin?). We learn there are nearly two thousand members of the Kin, which is nearly twice what the White Tower had before the schism. We also learn they live a lot longer than Aes Sedai do.

26. Mat comes into the middle of all this to let them know that he’s found the warehouse with the BotW; Elayne tries to claim that she already knew but when she feels Birgitte’s disapproval in her head, she relents and sincerely thanks Mat for being the key to them finding what they needed. “His gaping astonishment was almost worth the agony.”

27. “Women with knives make me uneasy these days”. Ugh, I hate the Tylin storyline for Mat so much. And he’s so desperate to leave Ebou Dar immediately but that idea gets smacked down by Elayne -- they are staying until the Bowl is used.

28. We get a look into Elaida’s very unpleasant dreams -- her getting to punish the rebels while "young al’Thor” quietly kneels at her side as she holds the shield on him that prevents him from channeling. She dreams that Egwene would throw herself on Elaida’s mercy and kiss her hem. She’s woken up by Alviarin to the bad news that she will NOT be getting a pet Dragon any time soon. Corvarla, the highest ranking of the sisters who escaped, has returned to talk to Elaida and tell her what happened. Twelve sisters escaped to Tar Valon (out of the 39 sent). Gawyn and his Younglings have also returned to Tar Valon, which is a deep disappointment to Elaida.

29. Elaida also learns about the asha’man at this point, several hundred of them, which makes her hands shake with fear. It means that the Black Tower is a much more formidable opponent that Elaida realized, so Toveine and the Aes Sedai sent with her (50 in total) will not have an easy time. Will, in fact, probably get curb-stomped. And it’s too late to order Toveine to retreat, due to her orders to go in secrecy. Alviarin uses all this to get a hold over Elaida and take her ‘advice’ by reminding her who will truly be punished by the Hall if all these failures become known. The ‘advice’ that she gives Elaida is something that is certain to cause discontent and agitation between the Ajahs (big goal of the Black Ajah, I assume). She also tells Elaida that it’s time for the White Tower to stand formally against Rand al’Thor.

30. Elaida goes to a White Ajah Sitter named Seaine that morning (after she has done as Alviarin ‘advised’ her). I will note that Elaida is ALSO having ‘infamous cold furies’ basically exactly like Rand does. Her brush with Aridhol seems to be affecting her fairly similarly to how the taint is affecting Rand (when we can untangle what is taint and what is trauma, which can be difficult with Rand sometimes).

31. I love the little touches of personality in Seaine’s rooms! Her little portraits of her now-deceased family and her little cat collectables. Verin is still MVP but it took me less than a page to fall back into love with Seaine.

32. “I want you - I command you - to undertake an inquiry. And you must indeed hold it in your heart. The wrong ear hearing of it might mean death and disaster for the White Tower.” More specifically she says, “I charge you to follow the stench of treason, no matter where it leads or how high, even to the Keeper herself.”

You guys, I think Elaida might be my problematic fave now. She just managed to create something amazing completely accidentally out of her paranoia and fears. From what I remember of the Black Ajah Hunter storyline, it is a genuine highlight. Because Elaida’s trying to set up, essentially, for Seaine to ferret out traitors to HERSELF but Seaine interprets it as treason to THE AES SEDAI. Which means Black Ajah! And Seaine is actually a character who is willing to CROSS AJAH LINES, here in the White Tower, where every sister looks suspiciously at all the others. Anyway, I’m sure Elaida will do something to piss me off and take her off the list, but she’s temporarily on it, lol.

33. Seaine was the Sister who proposed Siuan Sanche as Amrylin years ago!

34. Despite promising to keep this a secret, once Seaine realizes/decides that this is a Black Ajah hunt, she brings the one person that she trusts into this hunt with her: Pevara of the Red Ajah. Who is our token Actual Good Red Ajah character who shows us a different side of the Red Ajah as a whole. The Red Ajah forced Pevara to end their friendship when she joined the Ajah. But the reason that Seaine is certain that Pevara can be trusted with this is because her family was murdered by Darkfriends. This chapter is SO GOOD honestly, from start to finish.

35. Pevara is plump, short, and pretty, with a merry twinkle in her eyes and a ready smile, and she’s openly argued that the Red Ajah would find Warders useful, actually. The first thing Pevara does is apologize for cutting her off after she became Red Ajah and say that she wished she’d approached her years ago. Seaine doesn’t hold it against her. “We cannot go against our Ajahs when we are young, and later, it seems impossible to retrace our steps.”

36. Oooh! Pevara has been convinced for a WHILE that the Black Ajah were real. She suspects those two Amrylins dying so closely together right after the Aiel War seemed very suspicious and suspected the Black Ajah’s hand (correct!). Seaine has logic’d out that Black Ajah sisters must still be able to lie and get around the Three Oaths, so confronting sisters directly isn’t where they should start. “If any sister wrote that she did one thing when we can prove she did another, then we have found a Darkfriend.”

37. Rand is in a gray depression after Perrin leaves (no more Two Rivers people in his life at all; I would be depressed too) and doesn’t stir for days, only able to react once Min shows up and is let into his rooms despite his orders. I really am pretty sure at this point that Sulin was sent away because she has too much of an emotional connection to Rand and that job has now been assigned to Min. I will keep an eye out but I... I suspect that Rand’s special relationship with the Maidens is going to begin to fade into the background now that Min is here. Which I really hate because I have adored Rand’s found family with the Maidens.

38. He is also fighting hard against an arrogance that is threatening to overtake him, fighting against the urge to use all the power contained in the Choeden Kal, as he has now hidden the access key ter’angreal behind his wardrobe in his room in Cairhien. “He was the Dragon Reborn, the only hope of the world against the Dark One. And the Light help the world for it.” Rand’s increasing arrogance wars against his self-hate. He dreams of all the women who have died ‘because of him’ (he is very loose in his definition). Has nightmares that he killed Perrin during that staged fight of theirs. He has nightmares of being back in the box and taken out to be beaten again. Nightmares of trying to go to the White Tower to confront Elaida and seeing not only the Tower united against him, but Egwene and Nynaeve and Elayne on her side as well. He has nightmares about what Cadsuane said about madmen hearing voices in their heads and begs Lews Therin to talk to him again. And he’s terrified to realize that Alanna’s presence at the back of his mind has started to comfort him.

39. More violence from Min in the Rand-Min relationship as she ‘jolts’ him out of his self-hating depression.

40. Anyway, Rand tells Min he loves her, and that he loves Elayne and Aviendha. Min says that’s chill or whatever, and Rand officially makes Min his exemption in his policy of Send Away Everyone I Love To Protect Them, so that happened.

41. Yeah, Nandera kinda semi-officially hands over the duties of Caring For Rand to Min here. I’m sad, y’all. I hope we still get SOME found family scenes in the future. We sorta get one here but it’s still mostly about Min.

42. Anyway, Rand finally goes to the Sea Folk and doesn’t prepare for it at all. The arrogance definitely has him strongly in its grip. He assumes they will just bow down before him and give him whatever he wants. Honestly, Rand’s bounce from depression to arrogance here is pretty concerning.

43. Yeah, Rand is 100% embracing all the pomp and circumstance that used to majorly bother him and is attempting to use it to overawe the Sea Folk into just accepting whatever they need to accept about him so that he can go back to his ~important work. I’d be miffed at him too. As always, Rand’s awareness of the ‘honor’ being done to him is married to his certainty that almost everyone around him hates and resents him.

44. Tracking Rand’s PTSD & taint-related symptoms:

paranoia - he feels like he can only fully trust a very short list of people that consists almost entirely of his lovers or people who knew him before he was known as TDR

recklessness - despite his worries about the dangers of the world, he tends to leap in first without his guards way too often

more susceptible to flattery/arrogance - this one is very much on display right now

allowing his lust to control his choices (per the text, that’s why he sent Berelain away; he was too attracted to her and felt like he couldn’t have her around)

moodiness that comes in three flavors: cold rages (this was one of his first symptoms; he notes early on in the series that he’s having a harder time controlling his temper than when he was younger), gray depression (this started when he was kidnapped by the Tower Aes Sedai, so that one goes very much into the ‘definitely PTSD’ bucket for me), and a giddy and talkative form of mania (Min calls this euphoria a little later on and we’ve previously seen it before around Perrin and Mat; it might only come out around people that Rand trusts)

self-loathing/suicidal tendencies, which relates back to his recklessness, I think. Rand doesn’t hold his own life as very valuable, except as coin to spend at the Last Battle. This also started appearing very very early on.

specifically from his time in the box, we know that he hates confined or dark spaces

45. Yeah, Rand has become very very certain that he “knows” and understands what all the prophecies mean and believes that he can sweep aside everyone as he barrels towards the Last Battle. Again, this is a place where I think having what is essentially a ‘live-in fortune teller’ is a bad thing for him, especially when it seems like she does more to encourage and facilitate his certainty than she does to caution him to combat it.

46. Rand does basically overawe the Sea Folk into agreeing to the basics of what he needs but then he can’t fight his fear over being trapped in a small space anymore and has to leave with the Bargain mostly undone, with Merana to finish the rest. Harine does give him the useful information that the Seanchan have likely ALREADY returned to the western coast.

47. Min apparently now also cares about having ~light ~delicate furniture (she notes that she never cared before). She’s considering completely remodeling Rand’s rooms in Cairhien despite not having cared about home furnishings and linens before now. No but seriously wtf? I guess sleeping with Rand activated her dormant ‘housewife’ genes. “she was not one of those fool women who tossed their brains at a man’s feet along with their hearts”. you are literally the main example of this sort of woman in this entire series.

48. “whenever Mat or Perrin was present” lol the TWO TIMES that you’ve ever seen Mat, yes. Anyway, Min sees her purpose in life as “keeping up Rand’s spirits”. She suggests Rand "comfort her again” instead of going out to visit the rebels (he’s going out to visit the rebels because he feels like he’s on a ta’veren streak). She also notes that he is in the grips of a euphoria that seems as concerning as his depression, which is her first time encountering this side of him, I think.

49. We learn that Rand goes out without the Maidens “all the time” (yes, that’s exactly why no one knew he was missing when he was in the Box; he has not hidden this tendency as well as he believes that he has), which is that recklessness of his that has led into so many troubles for him. And will do so this time as well.

50. “she was ready to leap if he crooked a finger; she just wanted to make sure he never found out” I will MAIL YOU some freaking self-respect, Min. Please just give me your address.

Rand: expects Min to jump when called

Min: jumps when called

also Min: wow I hope he doesn’t ever find out that I jump when he calls

51. ...did Min really not realize that Rand was going to meet the rebels in person? Why is she surprised and attributing this to Rand being ta’veren? He literally told her this was his plan?? Also:

Rand: I love Elayne and Aviendha too much to be near them. It would put them in Too Much Danger!

also Rand: Hey, Min, come and meet the nobles who are rebelling against me and I will even tell the first one we meet who I am. I’m sure it won’t be dangerous at all.

He is just going to constantly & casually haul her into so many dangerous situations in the future. Not EVERY dangerous situation that he goes into, but a surprising number.

52. For someone who keeps saying she doesn’t like to share her viewings with people, Min is constantly sharing her viewings with people. Wait here a moment, MIN REALIZES SOME OF HER VIEWINGS ARE SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECIES: “Sometimes, before she had learned better, it had happened because she warned”. Then why do you keep telling so many viewings to Rand? Make it make sense, Min. Earlier in this very section, she thought about how she “could hardly wait” to share a viewing with Rand about Lord Darlin.

53. Anyway, we do learn the valuable information that Fain is here, chilling with the rebels against Rand. I guess that’s where he went after his assassination attempt using Whiteclocks on Rand failed? Min sees no viewings around him at all. I think I read a theory somewhere that she never saw viewings that touched the Shadow and Fain was a Darkfriend before he was More Than A Darkfriend.

54. Cadsuane is also here, chilling with the rebels. This scene could have been cut down a lot imo. So of the Aes Sedai, there’s Caddy and her two buds, and four Red Ajah that have recently arrived. Though I have to admit if Min and Rand’s relationship weren’t rubbing me the wrong way, I would probably find it sweet in a poly sort of way that Min and Rand are pretending to be married while using Elayne’s family name.

55. Rand agrees to duel with Toram, the Lord that is Fain’s companion. They duel for a while; they’re both blademasters, and then there’s a wall of fog that attacks everyone, killing one of the Red Ajah sisters. Rand does work together with Cadsuane, her group, Darlin, Caraline, and Toram to escape the attacking fog. Bubble of evil, maybe? Or maybe a Fain thing? Rand uses balefire to destroy one of the fog monsters, revealing that he can channel. Toram runs off at the sight and the realization that this is TDR, but Darlin sticks around. Cadsuane hits Rand for using balefire but he’s more concerned about telling her that the Lews Therin in his head is real.

56. Fain abruptly leaps out of the fog to attack Rand, scoring him along his side. Samitsu heals him and takes note that Something Is Wrong, revealing that Rand was cut by Fain exactly over the top of his old unhealing wound from Ishamael. They take him to the Sun Palace as quickly as possible, which is not incredibly fast.

57. Min spills out the entire story of Rand’s trauma with Aes Sedai and the box to Cadsuane, her companions Samitsu & Niande, and Darlin and Caraline. So Rand doesn’t get to share this with someone in a way where he gets reassurance, but people he doesn’t trust get to know the full extent of his trauma. “He wanted it kept secret” but Rand is never allowed any privacy or any choice about what business of his gets shared, even as everyone keeps secrets from him. Anyway, I guess that’s an additional reason that Min was on that trip with Rand, so that she could trauma-dump on people about what he went through. As much as I hate Rand goes places without telling people what he’s doing, things like this show why he feels like he needs to do it. Because if people know anything about him, they will tell other people. At this point, it kinda feels like Mat is the only person who has ever actually kept Rand’s secrets for him.

58. Anyway, I will make a mental note that Cadsuane Knows that Rand was heavily abused by a large group (39 sisters) of Aes Sedai. Cadsuane’s reaction to hearing this is to tell Rand’s unconscious body: “I will not hurt you more than I must”, while the sisters with her are way more focused on him having stilled three Aes Sedai. Min regrets that she told them everything but, well, too late now!

59. “Rand was the only thing she cared about. The only thing in the world.“ Trust me, Min, we all know that.

60. In the flurry, the asha’man arrive and Dashiva orders Flinn to heal Rand. Cadsuane’s only reaction to meeting them is to add more “boys” to her "needs manners” list. Flinn is able to Heal Rand somewhat better -- he won’t die now. Samitsu is over her fear and now demands to know how his version of healing works. What Flinn did was seal the wounds off from Rand’s body while leaving them to fight each other -- they are two different kinds of evil and dislike interacting.

61. Mat has learned from Birgitte that his spear is called an “ashandarei”. He is with Elayne and some of the Kin to go to the warehouse where he’s pretty sure the Bowl of the Winds is. Mat is so despairing and miserable over how Tylin has him trapped and “helpless”. Also, the way that Tylin is basically telling Elayne and Nynaeve that she’s abusing Mat but coding it just enough that they don’t pick up on it makes me want to throw things. Elayne, in a doubtful tone: “the queen said she finds you wonderfully entertaining and courteously compliant”.

62. This is also the section when Jordan starts transitioning to “but actually he doesn’t mind!” which he kinda goes back and forth on. But he talks about Mat enjoying himself “in sections” when “he could forget he was with a woman who thought he was some sort of bloody doll”. Basically the “it isn’t rape if you have an orgasm” argument, which we all know is BS.

63. Lan arrives with Nynaeve, which is how Mat finds out he’s in Ebou Dar. We learn that Lan and Nyneave got married last night by “Atha’an Miere custom”. Something that seems super-weird to me in this book series is how people outside a culture, if they get married by someone inside that culture, are apparently bound to follow all that culture’s traditions for married life. Having an Atha’an Miere wedding doesn’t mean you’ve magically become Atha’an Miere. This issue comes up later, too, where someone considers themselves bound by another culture’s wedding traditions even though they have no reason to want to be a part of that culture. A wedding isn’t a magic spell?

64. Lan tells Mat both that Moghedien killed his two men and also that Nynaeve didn’t want him to tell Mat about it. Mat literally thinks he would rather face Moghedien, one of the FORSAKEN, than he would see Tylin again (and Tylin has now moved him into her own apartments) and he thinks he’s about to start crying. “I say no and she laughs at me” kinda sums it all up.

65. Elayne found out that the red flowers on the basket Tylin gave him means they’re having sex and she immediately accuses him of forcing his attentions on her. Which makes Mat sputter in protest and confess to her that the exact opposite is what is happening. She doesn’t take it seriously at first (she laughs and tells him about what young ladies who catch the eyes of kings do) but eventually (after he offers his medallion for protection against Moghedien) she takes him seriously and says she will explain the situation to Nynaeve (as Nynaeve had already been told the incorrect version).

66. Mat doesn’t understand why his attempt to try to protect her by lending her medallion made her respect him and take him seriously when it’s always pissed her off before when he’s tried to protect her. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure why this is the thing that makes her take him seriously either, when confessing to being forced into sex made her laugh and say it was “a taste of his own medicine”. Maybe because this breaks her previous idea of “who Mat is” more?

67. The Black Ajah sisters find them now, as Elayne has already dashed upstairs, and Nynaeve is shielded by them. Nynaeve tells Mat there’s channeling upstairs and actually asks him “Please” to check it out while she and Lan & the wise women take care of the Black Ajah sisters. Mat comes upon “an ordinary-looking fellow” in a gray coat, who manages to twist one of the women’s necks to kill her. Mat leaps into action to fight him, seeing Elayne lying on the floor and thinking that she’s dead and he’s failed Rand.

68. The man kills Nalesean and Mat is losing the fight against him. And then by chance Mat’s medallion touches him and it burns him. Mat thinks that maybe he can’t win this fight and there’s no point in dying avenging Elayne... and then he sees her hand move and he realizes she’s still alive, so he jumps back into the fight with a vengeance. He breaks off the necklace for his medallion so that he can use it as a weapon. “The first step was the hardest, but he had a promise to keep.” The man runs before Mat can get him, and Elayne calls for him, so he goes to her. Mat is still such a good character and such a good person in this book. He is trapped in an incredibly shitty storyline with Tylin but he himself has remained unbroken so far by it.

69. Elayne sees Mat with new eyes after he fought so hard to protect her and I really really hate that Mat is going to be ripped away from this plotline at the end of this book! We deserved to see how Elayne and Mat’s relationship would shift and change now that he has her respect. Instead, he gets trapped in Ebou Dar with the Seanchan and Tylin. The actual worst narrative choice that Jordan made was dropping that wall on Mat at the end of this book. “You are going to have to let me save you at least once to balance the scales,” Elayne says. Hate that this new dynamic gets cut off at the knees! Mat deserved to finish out this storyline!

70. Mat learned about the man -- gholam -- from Birgitte and shares that knowledge with the Aes Sedai. They were created in the middle of the War of Power, during the ending of the Age of Legends, and created for the express purpose of killing Aes Sedai, which is why channeling doesn’t work against them. There were only six ever made; they have no bones and are incredibly strong. Mat does get everyone to agree to leave and, ugh, another frustration -- MAT is the one who gets the Windfinders to agree to use the Bowl. He’s the one who breaks the stalemate (using being ta’veren, essentially) and then gets punished by the narrative for it, trapped into a horror show (this is not a spoiler; the Seanchan invading anywhere is a horror show by default). This actual scene itself is pretty good though. I love how integrated Mat’s memories are into how he behaves and thinks. It’s such an interesting compare/contrast against Rand.

71. Tylin and Mat’s “goodbye” scene here is so gross. Even more so because, well, he ends up getting trapped in Ebou Dar, so she will have more chances to abuse him in the future. Olver cements my dislike for this book’s version of him by being the reason that Mat has to leave the others and thus gets trapped in Ebou Dar. Disowned entirely. Though, in fairness, the fault truly is with the useless attendant that Tylin assigned to him (to get him out of Mat’s bedroom so that she could continue harassing and abusing Mat) so I guess it’s Tylin’s fault. But, yeah, Mat spends literal hours seaching for Olver, and ends up with a building on top of him as the Seanchan invade.

72. Chapter 40 is entirely Shaido nonsense. There’s loads of torture-porn, essentially, and then they get sent all over the place by Sammael to cause ‘chaos’.

73. Rand wakes up. I wonder if Min will tell him that she spilled his secrets out to Cadsuane. Nope, she just tells him about her viewing that Cadsuane will teach him something important; him and all the asha’man. idk why I’m surprised. Of course she didn’t tell him; why would she want to warn him that someone he doesn’t trust knows some of his trauma? But, yeah, Rand has a rock-solid certainty that Min’s viewings are never wrong, so Min is potentially able to manipulate Rand’s decisions by which viewings she does and does not choose to tell him, whether intentionally or not (we know that she doesn’t tell him everything; notably, she doesn’t tell him that she has had a viewing that she believes has ‘failed’ ...which is something that would puncture his certainty in her viewings).

74. Without Mat there to take charge of the army that was being aimed towards Sammael, Weiramon went ahead with just the calvary, against Rand’s express wishes. Sammael attacked back and Rand realizes that he would have known that Rand was lying in a sickbed; “everyone who had eyes-and-ears in Cairhien knew that the Dragon Reborn lay on the edge of death”.

75. Rand goes to wild lengths to ensure that “no woman” dies in this battle that where hundreds and potentially thousands of men are dying. My sighs are honestly eternal for this bit of characterization. It’s so condescending. Also, Rand is breaking his promise to the Maidens.

76. Anyway, while Sammael focuses on the army that Weiramon is sending at him, Rand goes to his secret army that Bashere is in charge of and channels a gateway right to the center of Illian, and they pour through. And then Rand and the Asha’man Travel all over the city and then channel a wide but harmless set of flows to essentially completely sweep the city so that they can set off every single alert or alarm ward that Sammael might have set up and so that he doesn’t know where they are. And it’s basically a fireworks show!

77. I am so sad that Mat has now TWICE gotten ripped out of important storylines involving other major characters: he was supposed to be the head of the decoy army and not Weiramon! He was supposed to escort Elayne to Caemlyn! And instead he gets spliced into the Seanchan invasion in Ebou Dar and NONE of the plot threads that I am actually interested in seeing him explore are going to happen! It’s so incredibly frustrating.

78. On the plus side, I actually don’t have an issue with Mat’s characterization in this book, except for two points. He’s trapped in the shittiest of situations but still manages to shine a lot of the time. The only two pieces of character development that are unfortunate are Jordan trying to ‘soften’ Tylin’s assault of him by having Mat think that he’s going to miss her and Mat not LIKING women as people anymore for most of the book (with the exception of Birgitte and then Elayne near the end). Which also felt like it was about Jordan trying to soften Tylin’s behavior to me, at the expense of Mat’s character.

79. Rand thinks that Lews Therin HAS to be real because everything that Rand knows about Sammael, everything that he’s using to make this plan work, is information that he got from LTT. But LTT stays silent. you know, maybe the lesson that Rand actually needed to learn from Caddy was “stop using balefire; it’s terrible for the Pattern”.

80. Sammael Travels from Illian to Shadar Logoth, and Rand follows. After spotting some Trollocs, he sees them attacked by a familiar face -- Liah, the Maiden who had been left behind in Shadar Logoth. It takes her a moment, but she recognizes him too. And then flees from him, her shame overwhelming her. Rand chases her as quickly as he can. “Death in a tattered red coat”. Rand.

81. Rand is saved from falling from the floor of a building by a man who tells him “You are a fool. Count yourself lucky I don’t care to see you die today.” He tells Rand to pull himself up, he doesn’t intend to kill Sammael for him. When he sees the man, he thinks of him as a “big fellow a little older than he, with hair black as the night”. He called himself a “wanderer just passing through.” Rand does not recognize his face, so he’s sure the man isn’t one of the Forsaken.

82. lol, after Rand hesitated over using balefire earlier in the scene, he uses it now. I actually approve tbh. When he stopped himself, they were in Illian and other people might have gotten hurt. Here, he uses on the fog of Shadar Logoth. However! The ~odd man~ is also using balefire and their streams cross, and Rand’s head rings like a struck gong afterwards. They both flee out of the building together and Rand demands to know who the man is. “His rescuer stood watching him; covered with dust head to toe, the fellow managed to look a king.”

83. He suggests that the man go to the Black Tower and tells him he doesn’t have to “live afraid of Aes Sedai” and the man snaps back that he’s NEVER been afraid of Aes Sedai. The man advises that Rand leave now but if he insists on staying, try to think like Sammael if he really wants to kill him. The Man (tm) also speaks about Sammael like he knows him personally. The last thing he says to Rand before he leaves is “Try not to stumble. A great many plans will have to be relaid if you let yourself be killed now.”

84. And then our mystery man is gone! Riveted by this dynamic already. I remember that I liked it but, yeah, it starts from the first scene, glued to the page, love it. Well, if Rand can’t have homoerotic tension with his best friend anymore, at least he can have it with Man Who Channels Without Saidin. Which Rand now realizes that he never felt saidin being used when the man channeled the balefire and their streams crossed.

85. Taking the man’s advice that Sammael likes to destroy people in front of their accomplishments, Rand heads to the Waygate as quietly as he can manage. He finds a tower near the Waygate and climbs it to get a better view. He sees Liah get hit by one of Mashadar’s threads of fog and channels without thinking -- he balefires Liah so that she’s dead before she can feel the pain. He sweeps the balefire across the square to catch Sammael in it; since he sweeps it all the way to meet the fog of Mashadar, he’s sure Sammael is dead one way or the other.

86. Rand Skims back to Illian to meet Bashere and the Asha’man. The Council has been eagerly awaiting Rand’s return. The remaining Council of Nine offers Rand Illian. “The crown, and the throne, and all of Illian”. Rand questions it being so easy -- he has never been offered a crown before. He asks why. They tell him the King disappeared two days ago and they fear Lord Brend (that was Sammael) had something to do with it. But, mostly, it’s because the grain he sent from Tear saved many in the city from starvation (Rand set that up way back in TSR!). The Council calls him the King of Illian, but one of his Asha’man, Dashiva, calls him “King of the World” and Rand’s PoV ends with the very ominous thought that he likes the sound of it. Honestly, pretty much everything to do with the taking of Illian and killing Sammael and what happens in Shadar Logoth is really good. For all that I have... oh gosh, MANY issues with this book, this ending for Rand is good. It is quite dark and ominous, even more so than when he took over Cairhien at the end of TFoH and had the nobles swearing fealty to him, but it’s a good kinda dark and ominous.

87. And we end with this idea that a storm is coming.

So... how would I have personally changed this book to make it (imo of course) better?

Assuming that we actually don’t want a fourteen-book series and maybe we wanted to tighten things up a bit, I would completely cut out the Shaido and cut out Tylin harassing and assaulting Mat. If... if we’re married to Mat getting shoved into the Seanchan invasion plotline, then he still has to be trapped in Ebou Dar, but if we aren’t married to it, then let the poor man escape with the others to the farm.

Rand and Min could still have gotten together but (and this change would fold back to LoC) don’t have her reinvent herself in order to appeal to him. Let Rand fall in love with Actual!Min, not this simpering Min who has grown her hair out into ringlets and explicitly thinks Rand is the only thing that matters in the world. The world is so big, Min! Please find something else that matters to you in addition to Rand.

There were also quite a few sections where Jordan goes into way too much detail. Like, I know he was proud of his worldbuilding but... it was pretty excessive at times.

Perrin’s vibe towards Rand isn’t as bad as I remembered it being, tbh, though it is HILARIOUSLY casual compared to how intense Rand and Mat were together. But another change I would make is have Berelain GENUINELY sent along with Perrin for political reasons rather than it being because she’s just Too Hot for Rand to have around now that he has a semi-official girlfriend. And then have her actually do her political things without harassing Perrin. Or let her stay in Cairhien and send Lord Dobraine along with Perrin.

Also, wow, the sheer number of non-consensual elements in this book are, like, wild compared to the previous ones. We had Myrelle raping Lan. We had Tylin raping Mat. We had Valda raping Morgase. I’m pretty sure Thevera is raping Galina too but I was skimming pretty quickly through the Shaido sections. We had Rand thinking that he’d raped Min. We had Elayne assuming that Mat had raped Tylin. We had Berelain’s persistant chase of Perrin start up in earnest, complete with non-consensual touching.

There’s also now a total of four romantic relationships where the woman has punched the man in the stomach hard enough that he’d physically reacted to it (knees buckling being one example) - Faile & Perrin back in TSR, and now Min & Rand, Nynaeve & Lan, and Setelle Anan & her husband all in this one book.

We also really start to get a spotlight on how Rand’s thing about ‘not killing women’ is actually JORDAN’S thing, because it starts to become clear what a difficult time Jordan has killing female villains off vs male villains... but he has zero issue putting those women into degrading & humiliating ‘forever punishments’ (the newest example being Moghedien being literally enslaved to Moridin).

Once the page count starts increasing and the padding starts, we also see more and more of these quirks/kinks of Jordan in the writing, so I wonder if the editing that kept the earlier books leaner and better-paced was also cutting down these kinks of Jordan’s. So, in order to improve ACoS I would have cut down/cut out the violence in sexual relationships, and all the non-consensual elements (since they are NOT handled well).

If Mat is not being raped by Tylin, then it’s possible his sexism also would not have jumped up in this book - imo, Mat’s increasing sexism is a way for Jordan to justify why he gets the evil/villain romances. Tylin is ‘turning the tables on him’ and his future Seanchan lady ‘leashes him’. And at the same time, Mat is an appreciably worse person (towards women) than he was in the books EotW-LoC, so imo Mat’s attitude towards women taking a nosedive is extremely related to his ‘romances’ kicking into high gear (this is one of the things I mean when I say it feels like Mat gets ‘thrown under the bus’ for his ‘romances’). Though markantonys pointed out an alternate viewpoint that also makes sense: Jordan just views sexism as part of being “a grown man” and so the growing sexism is meant to show that Mat is more ready to marry off and become a part of heterosexual marriage culture (it’s a very toxic viewpoint, but I think there’s probably a good chance it’s part of what was in Jordan’s head).

In this section; unnecessary scenes:

The Morgase stuff has gotten excessive at this point, so I’m adding her trauma conga-line to the list: 1 scene (19 pages)

Berelain-Faile jealousy nonsense: 1 scene (1 page)

Mat-Tylin: 1 (2 pages), 1 (2 pages), 1 (2 pages), 1 (6 pages), 1 (6 pages), 1 (2 pages), 1 (1 page)

Cadsuane negging Rand: 1 (1 page)

Shaido nonsense: 1 (14 pages)

I will add these to the total at the end as well.

SLOG TRACKER

The major plot-threads that we entered into A Crown of Swords with:

Rand: defeat Sammael (book 2 of this plot) - COMPLETED.

Elayne & Nynaeve: locate the Bowl of Winds and use it to fix the weather (book 2 of this plot) - NOT completed.

Egwene: Go to the White Tower with her army, confront Elaida, and heal the Tower (book 2 of this plot) - NOT completed.

Mat: Escort Elayne to Caemlyn and see her crowned as Queen (book 2 of this plot) - FAILED.

Perrin: For Perrin, he didn’t have a task coming into ACoS, but he acquires the task to gather up Masema and his Dragonsworn and bring them to Rand (book 1 of this plot) - NOT completed.

The plot-threads that are starting or being carried over to The Path of Daggers:

Rand: ??? for now.

Elayne & Nynaeve: Locate the Bowl of Winds and use it to fix the weather. (3/?)

Egwene: Go to the White Tower with her army, confront Elaida, and heal the Tower (3/?)

Mat: ??? for now.

Perrin: Gather up Masema and his Dragonsworn and bring them to Rand (2/?)

Unnecessary scenes throughout all of ACoS (imo of course):

3 of Shaido nonsense (35 pages)

2 of Berelain-Perrin-Faile nonsense (4 pages)

8 Mat-Tylin scenes (29 pages)

2 of Cadsuane negging Rand (4 pages)

1 Morgase Trauma Conga Line (19 pages)

Total: 91 pages.

There are 664 pages in my copy of ACoS, so that would be 13.7% of the book. And this total doesn’t include scenes that could have been trimmed to be shorter but still been just as clear, which the book definitely had.

I’ve also decided I’m going to keep track of Min viewings that are, imo, bad for Rand’s mental health. So far, we have the vague ominous warnings about Aes Sedai hurting him (LoC) that led him to flee to Cairhien and thus end up in the power of the Aes Sedai who end up hurting him. Telling Rand about the prophecy helped make it happen. I do not think either Min or Rand ever realize this.

In this book, we add that she tells Rand that he needs Cadsuane around to teach him and the Asha’man a lesson.

Though not a viewing, I’m not happy that she told Cadsuane about Rand’s time in the box and then didn’t tell HIM that she’d done it. Cadsuane now has this huge piece of information about Rand and he isn’t aware that she knows! I understand Min being desperate to try to save him, so I can excuse her telling Cadsuane in the first place, but WARN RAND that you’ve done it. And, also, you’d think she would start to guard her tongue after a while but I feel like she keeps blabbing things out to everyone in sight. We will see, I guess!

#wot #wheel of time #wot reread #a crown of swords #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #the wheel of time

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weallsimpfordabi · 4 years ago

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Idk if you’re taking requests atm, but I was wondering if I could request a drabble of Dabi getting jealous since he has a crush on the reader after seeing her get hit on so much 🥺👉🏾👈🏾

OMG I’m so sorry this took so long, the last few months have been really hard on me, but I’m back! Requests are still open so feel free to continue requesting if you’d like ☺️ I really hope you like this one 🥺

———

Here’s your check, make sure to come back again.” The waiter placed the slim paper on the table, giving you a sly smile and a once over for the fifth time tonight. Dabi grabbed the check, his long fingers curling around it tightly, the crumbling sound tearing the waiter’s eyes away from you. His confidence fell quickly under the intensity of Dabi’s glare, his glowing blue eyes almost set ablaze. You looked between the two, your anxiety rising slightly.

“Why? So you can be a fucking creep the entire time again? Do you do that to all of the women or just the ones who are clearly with someone else?”

“S-Sir, I had no idea you two were together, I’m sorry.” He turned to you with an apologetic look, and you saw Dabi’s grip tighten even more.

“Keep lying and you’ll never be able to see another beautiful woman again.” You groaned quietly before taking the check from Dabi, looking over the price before putting the money down, leaving the guy five bucks as a tip before practically dragging Dabi out of the restaurant. You sighed, shaking your head as you two walked to the car.

“Why do you do that?” You asked as soon as you two sat down in the car. He gripped the steering wheel, turning the car on before speeding off into a backroad. You buckled up quickly, watching his anger seethe from his body as he sped through the streets. “Dabi-“

“What?” His voice was sharp, making you jump in your seat. You frowned, crossing your arms. You heard his head hit the headrest, and the car started to slow down. Eventually, you could hear the gravel crack underneath the car as he slowed to a stop. You looked back over at him, confusion taking over you. He let go of the wheel, meeting your gaze. He had a sheepish look on his face as he turned the car off. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just…”

“You just…?” Your voice broke the silence that he had made for a few minutes. You knew he wanted to tell you, but he wasn’t exactly the best at expressing himself unless it was in a destructive way.

“I don’t like when guys flirt with you.” It was simple, yet it gave you complex emotions while processing what he said. “And I don’t understand why you even entertain them. None of them are ever in your league. They probably just want to fuck and then leave you alone.” He gripped the wheel again, this time with both hands. You watched as his anger started to boil over.

“It’s not my fault that people find me attractive! I don’t exactly like it either, Dabi. But even if I did, why the hell does it bother you so much anyway?” He chuckled softly, unbuckling his seat belt. You raised a brow, wondering what his next move was.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” He leaned in closer to you, hooking his finger under your chin. “Sweet little mouse. You don’t deserve men like that, that’ll just use you and leave. You deserve the world, baby. You deserve someone who loves you, who will cherish you in every little way. Someone who can make you feel like the only woman in the world.” Your breath escaped you as his lips inched closer.

“And who would be able to give me all of that, Dabi?” You looked at his lips, then back up at his eyes. He smirked before pulling you into a searing kiss, like he had been waiting for years to do this. You had lost all train of thought, the only thing in your mind is how soft his lips were against yours, how strangely delicate his touch was as he held your face.

“I will, baby doll. I love you.” He whispered, those three words leaving his throat shakily. You felt relief wash over you like a wave crashing into shore.

“Took you long enough.” You smiled. He laughed, then unbuckled your seatbelt before pulling you into his lap on the drivers side, gripping your thighs.

“This is gonna be fun, little mouse.”

#bnha #my hero academia #x reader #mha #anime #dabi my hero academia #dabi x y/n #dabi fanfic #dabi todoroki #dabi x reader #drabble #request #requests open #touya todoroki #jealous!dabi #asks open #send asks

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tumbleweed-palmer · 3 years ago

Text

It Was Inevitable: Jimmy Palmer X Reader

Jimmy Palmer falls into a sugar daddy relationship with Y/N, but what happens when he falls in love with her? This can only end in heartbreak. It's inevitable.

===========

Jimmy Palmer never would have thought he would wind up in a situation like this. He knows that sounds like such a cliché. It’s true though, he never thought he would wind up doing anything like this and it’s a mess. It is the definition of a mess.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He doesn’t know how things got so complicated so fast.

It all began with a case and a little comment from Tony.

The case involved a dead sailor and the revelation that said dead sailor was taking part in a sugar daddy type of “relationship” with a young woman. There was some suspicion that she might have been the one responsible for his death…and in a way she was…no she didn’t shoot the man herself, but another one of her clients did out of jealousy.

Tony had made some offhand remark about how these types of “relationships” always ended in a disaster.

Of course this had quickly prompted teasing from Ziva and McGee about just how Tony knew so much about these types of relationships…which had in turn resulted in Tony admitting he’d maybe looked at a website designed for the purpose of those types of relationships.

Or as Tony had put it. “It was research for a case I was consulting on. I chatted with a girl for strictly professional purposes…she was a nice girl, very hot, a total ten, but ya know…I don’t get the appeal of being treated like a human ATM. That kind of relationship just seems destined to fail.”

Jimmy couldn’t help but to hang on to the entire concept of a sugar baby.

Jimmy Palmer had always been terribly curious. It was a positive attribute to have, Dr. Mallard had always insisted. The first step to any type of learning was curiosity.

Then again didn’t curiosity kill the cat?

As hard as Jimmy tried to forget about the entire case his brain had clung onto the details. He had so many questions about sugar babies. How exactly did that type of relationship work? Did it feel degrading for either party? Did it involve sex or was it just about having companionship in other ways? What types of things did the sugar baby expect? What kind of guy was into a relationship like this? Was it like a business transaction or a friendship? And most importantly what type of girl was interested in this type of relationship?

Jimmy had found a website faster than he would ever admit. It was just to satisfy his curiosity he’d told himself.

Wasn’t Dr. Mallard always yammering on about the importance of understanding how people’s minds worked in their line of work? You had to understand how the human mind worked to understand how people could do something like shove an ice pick through someone’s heart or shoot a man in an alleyway. Perhaps having an understanding of how these types of relationships worked would make Jimmy a better medical examiner.

This was an educational endeavor Jimmy had told himself. He could make a quick profile, take a look around, and then his curiosity would be satisfied and he’d never have to think about this ever again.

For the most part the girls on the website had been kind of what Jimmy had been picturing. They were beautiful of course. However, it was obvious that a few of them weren’t even real people. Their photos and their profiles seemed a little too good to be real. They were most likely scam artists who’d stolen some photos of attractive women hoping to make a quick buck off some naive guy with a large bank account.

He’d been almost ready to give up and call his little educational experience a total bust when he’d spotted her profile.

It was her username that had caught his attention: Belle Mort.

Jimmy had taken a semester abroad his junior year in France. He still understood the french language just enough to translate her username: Beautiful Death.

The little sense of familiarity and the mention of a subject that his career revolved around had been enough to spark his interest and before he could stop himself he’d clicked on her profile.

She was different from the other girls on the site.

She was a few years younger than him; still in her twenties. She was a college student working on her masters. She’d mentioned her university fees were expensive and she was looking for companionship and a way to ease the financial strain. So, why not try an option that could offer her both monetary gain and companionship. She listed films and music she enjoyed a few of which Jimmy recognized. She seemed to enjoy art and overly sweet iced coffee. There were photos of her at museums and coffee shops. She posed in front of sculptures and paintings. She posed with a comically large iced coffee at an outdoor cafe somewhere. She was a beautiful woman. She wasn’t as in your face like the other profiles though. There was almost something elegant about her.

Her profile wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

He’d expected something kind of vulgar to be honest, like something straight out of one of the men’s magazines Tony liked to read at work when he thought Gibbs wasn’t looking.

Most of the other women on the site had been in bikinis and more revealing outfits. The outfit Belle Mort had worn in her main profile photo was sexy, sure, it hugged her body well, but the black sundress had seemed so much less intimidating than the other women’s clothing choices. The other women seemed dressed for a night of clubbing. Belle Mort seemed as though she could fit in at any cafe or farmers market in the DC Virginia area.

Her profile had made her seem less like some sort of sultry seductress and more like the girl next door. There was almost something playful about how she described herself despite the more serious tone of her username.

There was something about her that just seemed so approachable. She looked like the kind of girl Jimmy would spot at a coffee shop or maybe even on campus at Georgetown, but would never have the nerve to actually approach.

That was Jimmy’s big problem it seemed. Jimmy Palmer had never been too terribly great about approaching girls, especially ones who he found pretty. Most of his past flings and romantic encounters had been with women who approached him.

Jimmy wasn’t really the type to make the first move. He’d be the first to admit he was more the type to pine after a pretty girl but never quite work up the nerve to hit on her. He wasn’t the dominant type when it came to romance.

Jimmy had never really had that much confidence when it came to women. He was awkward at the best of times when it came to communication, but when it came to a pretty girl he could be hopeless.

Maybe that was what had driven him to click on the little message button by her profile. It was too easy to send her a quick message knowing that if he was rejected at least it would be over a computer screen and not in person. Being rejected online seemed so much less pathetic than being rejected in person.

The message Jimmy had sent had been so simple. Hi. So, Beautiful Death? Where did the inspiration for that come from? I’m Jimmy by the way.

He hadn’t expected to get a message back that same night and the message he had gotten back had only made him all the more intrigued. Hello. It comes from an essay I wrote recently on death and funeral culture in medieval era France. A little morbid of a subject, I know, but I guess it’s an odd little interest of mine. I’m impressed you caught the translation. <3 Y/N.

Jimmy had read the message over and over and over again. His brain picking it apart. He’d only grown more intrigued the more times he read it. And her name, he read her name a thousand times thinking it sounded so much nicer than Belle Mort.

He’d been unable to stop himself from messaging her back and had been delighted as she’d been open to sending him one in return.

This had gone on for a while, Jimmy working up his confidence to broach the subject.

He’d been unable to stop himself from admitting it to her. I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t know how to do any of this. I don’t know how this works.

A sigh of relief had left him at the response she’d given him. Lucky for you I’m a bit new to this myself. There’s no correct way to go about this. We can figure it out together, that is, if you’re interested?

Jimmy was interested, he was very interested. He knew he’d sounded far too eager when he’d let her know that he was, but luckily for him she didn’t seem to mind.

She’d requested that he send her a photo of himself. He hadn’t gotten around to actually placing a photo of himself on his profile that he’d made when he’d signed up for the site. After all, he hadn’t signed up for the site with the intention of actually messaging anyone at all.

He’d been hesitant to send her a photo, what if this was a scam? Maybe she’d steal the photo and post it somewhere online to shame him? Maybe she was a hacker who’d hack into his contacts and send it and all their messages to his friends and family and anyone in his contact list? Maybe this was all some elaborate scheme to shame him as some kind of pervert? Maybe she was planning on blackmailing him with this?

He’d ignored this fear though doing his best to take a photo of himself where he didn’t think he looked too horrible. He’d used a digital camera loading the photo up onto his laptop and sending the photo before he had time to second guess the choice.

He’d felt his cheeks flush at the response he’d gotten. I have to be honest Jimmy. You’re cuter than I expected. I thought you’d be much older. You’re a handsome guy. Are you sure you need me? I’m sure there would be plenty of girls who’d be happy to get to know you.

She calling him cute had caused a warm feeling to wash over him. She thought he was handsome.

He’d ignored the little voice in the back of his head that told him it was all bullshit; that she was just flattering him to get paid. It was nice to be complimented even if it was fueled by monetary gain.

He’d sent her a fast response. I need you, please.

That had been all it had taken. They’d exchanged numbers and after a few conversations over the phone, the first few pretty awkward to be honest, they’d managed to work out something between them.

It hadn’t been sexual, not at first. At first they’d just spent time together. He’d liked the companionship. He’d taken her to dinner and to art galleries. He’d taken her to museums once he’d realized she was a history major with the focus being on French history.

They spent their time talking. He felt like it was so easy to open up to her about whatever was troubling him. She never seemed to blink twice at the odder more macabre aspects of his job like most people tended to do. She didn’t mind that he could be anxious and she didn’t seem to mind that he had a tendency to be more awkward than he liked to admit. She didn’t even mind his puns or his terrible jokes. She seemed to like him the way he was.

She seemed to enjoy their time together or at least it seemed like she enjoyed it. She was so willing to praise him and compliment him. No one really praised him like she did. She was just there when he needed her. Even though a little voice in the back of his head told him her compliments were empty, he ignored that voice and soaked up her praise like a sponge.

She made it so easy for him to become so dependent on her. He wanted to please her. There was something addictive about seeing her happy and knowing he was the reason behind that happiness.

It felt like a friendship. In a lot of ways Y/N began to feel like Jimmy’s therapist/friend. He opened up to her about his worries and she listened and gave him advice. She was the first person he wanted to call whether he was having a great day or the worst day ever. She was where his mind went to in his quiet moments.

It felt like a friendship.

The little voice in the back of his head of course was always quick to remind him that they weren’t friends though…you didn’t have to pay someone for friendship.

He’d shushed the voice though, it felt too nice to spend time with her. He could pretend that this was something more than what it was he told himself.

Jimmy had the money to keep this up. His grandparents had long ago set up trust funds for his sister and he both. They’d made some smart investments and those investments had paid off.

Jimmy had never really been the materialistic type.

He might occasionally use the money to buy himself a gaming system or maybe a nicer tie. He’d used a little bit of it to put towards student loans. He mostly left the money alone though. Maybe it was the resentment he felt about it. His grandparents were on his father’s side after all, and his father had been such a bastard. So, in a way, using the money too often made him feel sick to his stomach.

Using the money on Y/N though, that didn’t make him feel sick. He told himself he might as well use the money on this. The trust fund was constantly growing with the investments and he might as well take advantage of it doing something that he enjoyed.

He placed money in her bank account when they spent time together. She didn’t charge him by the hour. It was one rate that they’d agreed on for each date. He’d been surprised at how easily she had presented all the fine little details of how this arrangement was going to work. She had given him her terms and had answered any questions he’d had about just what this arrangement would entail. She’d seemed to have it all figured out despite her admission that she was still pretty new to all of this.

It had become almost second nature to him, something he could do without even thinking, he slipped money into her bank account and went on with whatever they’d planned out for a date.

He did other things for her though aside from the payments to her account. He bought her gifts; flowers and perfume and a cashmere scarf he thought she’d like. Then he’d begun buying her jewelry. It was never anything really extravagant. It was mostly antique pieces that he was sure she’d like given her interest in history. She never asked for the gifts, he just liked the reaction he got when he gave them to her.

The gifts were what had led to their arrangement becoming sexual. She’d been the one who initiated it. The gifts were so nice she’d insisted, she wanted to do something nice for him as a thank you.

Jimmy had tried to insist that she didn’t have to of course, he hadn’t given her the gifts expecting anything in return other than the simple act of knowing he was pleasing her. She had insisted she wanted to do this for him though. And Jimmy had found that he was incapable of denying her this. He could admit that he wasn’t the most experienced guy on the planet at least when it came to the amount of women he’d been with. She was a beautiful woman and she seemed to want to please him. He was incapable of saying no to her. He’d let her take the reins on that front deciding to just go with it. How many opportunities like this would fall into his lap after all?

If anything this had made their arrangement feel more like a friends with benefits type of situation.

He could admit that the sexual aspect of this entire arrangement had only made things between them feel all the more complicated though. It was inevitable really, how could he share such an intimate action with someone without it meaning something?

They were playing a dangerous game and the longer it persisted the more Jimmy was beginning to realize his heart was going to be broken in the end.

It was undeniable how he felt about her. It was the only explanation for why she constantly seemed to be on his mind. It was almost pathetic really, he’d fallen in love with someone who he was paying to spend time with him. He’d fallen in love with his Sugar Baby. He was pretty sure that this was a recipe for disaster.

Lately this realization had seemed all the more apparent to Jimmy. Someone was going to get hurt if they kept this up, and he had a feeling it was going to be him. He loved her, but she could never love him. It was all so hopeless.

There didn’t seem to be any way of stopping the arrangement though, not now. He knew he could end it at any moment, but he remained helpless to do so. He was in too deep now. She had become such a fixture in his life. It was almost as though she was a siren calling him to what would certainly be his doom, but he was far too entranced to care. He needed her and he didn’t care if it would only hurt him in the end.

So that was maybe why it was so easy for him to reach for his cell phone the second Dr. Mallard stepped away for his lunch break leaving Jimmy alone in Autopsy. It took him very little time to find her number in his contact list and call it.

He couldn’t stop himself from sounding as eager as he felt as he spoke. “Hey, are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy for you Handsome.” Her response came so naturally and he couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his lips at the sound of her voice and the little pet name she’d bestowed upon him.

He spoke up knowing he still sounded so needy. “Can I see you tonight?”

“Of course, what do you have in mind? I need to know how to dress for the occasion.” She asked.

The answer fell from his lips without hesitation. “Nothing too crazy. I was just thinking a night in with some take out, just…things have been pretty hectic lately. I just- I really need to see you tonight.”

“What time? My last class for the day ends at five.” She remarked Jimmy so fast to answer her.

“I won’t make it out of here until around five thirty if I manage to make it through the rest of the day without any complications. I’ll need time to shower though…so maybe seven would be best.” He admitted knowing he didn’t quite want to meet up with her smelling like the scent of decay and disinfectant that seemed to permeate around Autopsy.

“Sounds workable for me, Handsome. Any special requests for tonight? I know how much you love that black lace set I wore last time.” She replied, making an audible moan leave him as he clearly pictured the lace lingerie set she was recalling and just how much he’d loved the way it had hugged her body.

He spoke the words sliding from him without a second thought. “Whatever you’d like. I just want you to be comfortable.”

The giggle that left her only made his cheeks flush all the more the lust he felt for her only becoming more apparent. “Always such a gentleman. I may have to find something new to wear for you. You sound like you could really use a nice distraction tonight. You sound tense.”

He spoke his voice tight the words sliding from him without him even having to think twice now. “I am…I could use a distraction. I’ll make the deposit in your account. The usual amount.”

“Punctual as always, Handsome. I’ll let you get back to work. Those crimes aren’t going to solve themselves. I’ll see you tonight. I’ll bring the wine. No red, I remember you don’t like the bitter. I’ll bring a Rosé or a Moscato, something sweet.” She replied knowing him well enough by now to know exactly what he preferred.

He felt a deep sigh leave him as he hung up the phone. He was in too deep. There was no escaping this. He wanted her too much to escape this. He didn’t care if he only got to have her because of their arrangement. This was how it had to be if he wanted time with her. Sometimes he just wished things could be different.

………………………………………………………………………

They wound up on his sofa in his apartment with two wine glasses and some empty take out boxes set out on the coffee table in front of them.

She’d greeted him just how she usually did; with a kiss to the cheek. There were never kisses to the lips. The act of pressing her lips to his was just too intimate he’d guessed. She’d kiss him everywhere but his lips. He tried his best to deny how much the refusal to actually kiss him stung. He told himself he didn’t have the right to complain. This wasn’t a real relationship.

She’d followed his request for comfort showing up to his place wearing a more casual blouse with a pair of jeans and a loose fitting cardigan. She still had made an effort for him as she usually did; her makeup looking as flawless as always. She’d traded in heels for a pair of flats and had allowed her hair to hang loosely around her face.

She managed to look stunning even in a more casual look.

She’d made good on her promise to bring wine having chosen to bring a sweet rosé with her chilled and ready for them. The bottle looked expensive and Jimmy had resisted the urge to ask if he was the one who had paid for the bottle, deciding he didn’t want to know the answer. He didn’t like the way it sounded, so accusatory.

She sipped her wine, her eyes cutting over to gaze upon him not helping but to sense his less than cheerful mood. It was so unlike him. If she’d figured out one thing about Jimmy it was that the man seemed to be an endless ray of sunshine and joy. He always seemed so cheerful. It was kind of refreshing honestly, to be around someone who was capable of being so positive.

She had noticed over the course of their last few dates though that something seemed to be troubling him.

She spoke daring to bring it up. “What’s going on in that head of yours Handsome? You don’t seem like your usual self.”

He managed to glance over at her the answer dancing around in his brain. Isn’t it obvious, I’m in love with the last person I should be in love with. He spoke the lie sliding from him so easily. “Work has just been hectic lately.”

She managed to give him a small teasing smile. “So it’s been nothing out of the ordinary.”

He felt a small smile cross his lips at the statement. He had been pretty open about the somewhat hectic nature of his job. That was something he’d always liked about her, how she was willing to listen to him discuss his job without ever shying away or showing disgust at some of the more morbid aspects of it. He wasn’t accustomed to people not being fazed by his choice in career.

She spoke again the words sliding from her so easily. “If there’s something bothering you then you know you can tell me. I’d like to think I’m a pretty good listener.”

“You are, I mean- you are a good listener and I appreciate it. This is just something…it’s just something I have to figure out on my own.” He admitted knowing there was no way he could tell her the truth.

He spoke again before she had time to press him for more information. “What about you? Didn’t you say your classes have been really intense lately?”

She felt a small genuine smile cross her lips still a little impressed by Jimmy’s ability to remember these details about her life. Somehow he’d gotten her to open up to him just as much as he seemed to want to open up to her. There was just something about him that had made it so easy for her to trust him to open up despite their arrangement.

She’d only had this type of arrangement once before with another man, but it hadn’t felt like this.

She hadn’t been lying to Jimmy when he’d first contacted her. She was still new to this type of work. An acquaintance had encouraged her to give it a shot. It was an easy way to make money quick. You could set your rules and your own boundaries. It was a fast way to make a lot of money without having to work very hard.

Y/N was in desperate need for some form of income and the usual part time job just wasn’t covering it. It seemed easy enough. All she had to do was spend some time with some old wealthy guy and make a quick paycheck. She didn’t have to do a thing he didn’t want to do. She was the one in charge.

Her first attempt at this hadn’t ended well. The guy was too pushy. He hadn’t exactly respected her rules and she’d cut him off. No amount of money was worth the disrespect.

She was almost considering getting out of the business around the time Jimmy had contacted her.

Jimmy wasn’t what she’d been expecting. He was different from the usual men who had propositioned her on the sugar baby website. She was accustomed to old graying business men old enough to be her father who seemed to believe that sugar baby equaled prostitute.

Jimmy wasn’t some old graying business man who wanted her to put out because he threw money at her. He’d never really pushed her for anything more than she’d offered. Maybe that was why she’d been the one who’d offered to give him more. Jimmy had seemed just happy to have her company. She couldn’t help but to want to please him as badly as he seemed to rely on making her happy.

To be totally honest she couldn’t help but to depend on his happiness as much as he seemed to depend on hers. She couldn't deny the fact that spending time with him did give her some sense of joy. She could also admit that Jimmy did seem to be an interesting guy. Although, he seemed kind of lonely to be honest. It didn't feel like he had much of a social life outside of his coworkers. It seemed as though his career ate up so much of his time. His job seemed so sad really, but she couldn't deny that it was fascinating to hear about. She couldn’t help but to think he must see so many heartbreaking things at work though. She didn’t understand how he could be so positive in his line of work.

She’d been surprised when he’d sent her his photo. She’d been expecting another guy old enough to be her dad. Jimmy wasn’t that much older than her. She hadn’t been lying to him, he was a cute guy. She had to wonder why he felt the need to seek her out. She’d quickly realized why of course. He just seemed shy; almost painfully so. It was obvious that Jimmy Palmer was a little nervous around women. Hence why he had needed her. She’d figured she was doing the man a favor. She could help him build up his confidence. She had just never expected to like him this much.

He was unlike anyone she’d ever met.

Jimmy Palmer was dangerous.

The more she got to know him the more she began to realize this simple fact.

She tried to shush the thoughts in her brain trying her best to play it cool and stay as calm and collected as she always did with him. “Finals week is coming. It’s always stressful. It’s nothing I can’t handle though.”

He felt the words leave him without hesitation. “Maybe when it’s all over we can do something special to celebrate…Maybe we can take a trip or do something like that…anything you want….I mean if you don’t have plans. You probably have plans.”

She replied not helping but to dislike the way he seemed to deflate at his own suggestion when it hit him that she might have plans for the end of her semester that didn’t involve him. “I don’t have plans. I’m sure something can be arranged for us.”

She paused not helping but to tease him. “A trip might be nice. Though it’s a little dangerous to tell me I can have anything I want.”

He felt his spirits lift at the promise of more time with her. He felt the words leave him knowing his words rang so true. “I’d give you anything you wanted, no questions asked.”

She chuckled at this statement, her hand pressing to his cheek not help but to be amused at the way he leaned into her touch. She managed to speak ignoring the warm feeling that washed over her at the way he was staring down at her. “Like I said, a dangerous promise to make me, Handsome. You should be careful I might just take you up on that offer.”

He cleared his throat remembering something he’d been hanging on to with the intention of giving it to her in a few months. He’d planned on waiting until her semester ended but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give it to her early. Seeing her happy always seemed to lift his mood.

He could admit this gift was something special. The second he’d spotted it his mind had gone to her. To be honest he may have bought the particular gift with the hopes that the message behind it would read out loud and clear to her without him having to even say the words.

He felt the words leave him as he reluctantly pulled from her touch. “I have something for you.”

She watched him disappear to his bedroom not helping but to be intrigued. The gifts he gave her were certainly always a surprise. He’d never seemed to have any expectations with the gifts he gave her, but she always felt the need to thank him. What better way to thank him than by pleasuring him?

It was something she hadn’t exactly done in her previous arrangement. She’d always figured it wasn’t a line she was willing to cross with a client.

She could admit that it had been easy to bring intimacy into her arrangement with Jimmy. He was an attractive guy and he seemed so eager to please her. He seemed determined to make her feel good. She figured it was a good ego boost for him, she was doing him a favor helping build up that confidence. If anything she figured it was a job perk for her.

Still she could admit that the more times she allowed their arrangement to cross this line the more complex her feelings towards Jimmy became.

She didn’t have much time to hyperfocus on the complexity of her feelings as Jimmy reappeared holding a small gift bag.

She took it from him as he sat down beside her, the words sliding from her. “I’ll never say no to a present.”

She widened her eyes, a bit stunned by what she pulled from the gift bag. The necklace was contained in a little velvety pouch. She felt a little breathless as she stared down at the red garnet hanging from a golden chain.

Jimmy spoke the words falling from him. “I remembered you said it’s your favorite gemstone.”

He paused remembering how she had told him quite a bit about it during one of their dates to a museum. There had been an exhibit on gemstones and he’d found that Y/N knew quite a bit about the subject. He could remember hanging on to every word she’d said. “From what I remember of what you told me, garnet was actually one of the most popular stones used during the Victorian era. You also said that it’s actually associated with pomegranate seeds and that according to greek mythology it was associated with Persephone.”

She nodded her head amazed he’d even recalled this conversation. “It is. It’s associated with pomegranates due to the red hue. It goes back to the myth of Hades giving Persephone a pomegranate so she would be bound to the underworld and would have to return to him when Spring ended. So greek mythology associates it as a gift to give an estranged lover with the hopes they will return to them. Greeks used to exchange garnet to travellers as a token of safe travels.”

Jimmy cleared his throat easily remembering more of what she’d told him. He spoke unable to stop himself from saying it, his true feelings spilling from him. “Garnets are also supposed to represent friendship and…love, they’re supposed to represent passionate love.”

She parted her lips, hesitant to ask him if that’s what this necklace represented to him, but she didn’t have a chance as his cell phone began to ring, breaking his gaze from hers.

He cleared his throat as he answered his phone, his brow furrowing as he listened to the person on the other end of the line for a long while before actually speaking. “Yes, Dr. Mallard. Of course, I’ll be there right away. I understand.”

Y/N didn’t speak until he hung up the phone the moment they’d shared over this newest gift too far away to grasp again.

She cleared her throat trying to play off her true feelings. “Work calling?”

“Yeah, dead petty officer found in a dumpster behind a diner.” Jimmy admitted trying not to give away too much knowing he couldn’t exactly risk breaking evidence protocol.

She gathered her coat and her gift placing the necklace in her purse as she headed for his front door.

Jimmy walked her to the door, Jimmy and she staring at one another for a brief moment. He felt himself lean closer to her, everything in him screaming to take his chance. Everything in him screamed that he had to show her what he was trying to say with the necklace. He couldn’t keep doing this. He had to show her how he felt before it drove him insane. He needed more than this arrangement. He couldn’t fight this any longer. Even if it hurt him he had to try.

She turned her face from his silently rejecting his attempt to press his lips to hers as she spoke. “Be safe at work.”

Jimmy felt his heart ache at what was so clearly a symbol of her rejecting how he felt. Of course she couldn’t feel the same. Of course this wasn’t real.

“I will, thank you.” He stated his eyes turning from hers as she pulled from him.

He closed his eyes, his heart cracking as he fought the urge to chase after her. Her reaction to his attempt to kiss her had told him all he needed to know about how she felt. She didn’t want him, not in the way he wanted her.

He could distinctly hear a voice in the back of his head that sounded all too much like Tony’s repeating the same words Tony had said months ago. I don’t get the appeal of being treated like a human ATM.

A Human ATM, of course, that’s all Jimmy was to her. He was a fool to ever hope for more.

………………………………………………………………………………

Y/N found herself sitting up in her bedroom, the garnet necklace sitting in her hand, her mind going ninety miles an hour. The necklace, that damn necklace. Why’d he have to go and do that? Why’d he have to do this?

The other gifts hadn’t been so intimate. The other gifts hadn’t meant anything. They’d been innocent gifts; a perfume she liked, a pair of earrings she thought was pretty, a nice silky robe that cost a bit more than she’d usually feel comfortable spending on one item of clothing, a dozen roses, a pretty red cashmere scarf.

Those gifts had been nice of course, but they hadn’t had any meaning behind them, not like this necklace.

This wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to get attached. She wasn’t supposed to get attached.

It was inevitable a voice in the back of her brain told her. She’d taken him to bed, it was bound to happen. That kind of intimacy meant too much for it to just be another part of their arrangement.

That had been her first mistake; taking him to bed allowing him to make love to her more than once.

It was just supposed to be sex, but then again was sex really ever just sex?

Maybe that was why she’d always told herself she’d never sleep with a client. Jimmy had made her throw out those rules so easily though. She’d given in to her own lust and it had bit her in the ass.

She may have never allowed him to press his lips to hers, but that hadn’t stopped those feelings from blooming within them.

Why did Jimmy have to be so sweet and charming and so kind and funny? Why did he have to be him?

This had been a mistake. This entire arrangement had been a mistake.

She’d realized it was a mistake from the start. She’d realized it was only going to end in disaster when she’d realized that she actually enjoyed her time spent with him.

She’d gone into their arrangement expecting it to be just like her previous experience where she had to smile and tolerate someone for a few hours knowing that it would be well worth the paycheck.

She didn’t have to tolerate Jimmy. She didn’t have to pretend with him.

She genuinely enjoyed being with him. Her heart lifted each time a call from him came. She felt a feeling of such warmth and adoration wash over her anytime he told her he needed her.

It wasn’t fair.

She had known she was fucked when she’d started feeling guilty about the deposits he’d placed into her bank account. She’d known she was well and truly screwed when she’d had the realization she’d like to spend time with him for free.

Her mind went to him far more often than she wanted. She remembered stories he’d told her or little habits he had. She remembered far too much about him for it to be just an arrangement between them.

What was she supposed to do now?

He clearly wanted more if this necklace and that almost kiss meant what she thought it meant.

This was no foundation to start a relationship on.

What were they supposed to tell people when they asked how they met? He was my sugar daddy and after he dropped a crap load of money on me I realized I was in love with him. He bought me a garnet necklace and I couldn’t deny how I felt about him anymore.

She knew how that made her sound. People already had enough to say when they found out about her little side hustle. People assumed the worst. Finding out she was dating a client would just reconfirm people’s worst assumptions about her.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she barely heard her roommate enter the room, a small frown crossing the girl’s face. “What’s with you?”

Y/N sighed ignoring the question choosing to ask her own question. “What do you need?”

Her roommate shot her a sheepish smile as she spoke. “Can I borrow that dress you have? The green one? I have a date.”

Y/N nodded her head giving a nonverbal answer, her brain easily sliding back into her own loop of despair over this entire mess.

Her roommate spoke a small sigh leaving her. “Why are you at home? You’re usually out with the Sugar Daddy on the weekends.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh her voice tense. “He had work.”

“That doesn’t explain why you look like someone pissed in your cheerios.” Her roommate easily remarked Y/N rolling her eyes at this statement.

She spoke, deciding to just be honest about it. “Shit’s getting complicated with him.”

Her roommate spoke easily, guessing the issue. “He’s getting a little too attached?”

Y/N sighed hating to admit it out loud. “He’s not the only one.”

“Shit, well what are you doing to do about it?” Her roommate dared to ask Y/N feeling her heart crack as the only possible solution came to light.

She had kept her profile on the sugar baby website though she hadn’t had any other clients but Jimmy. She’d had no reason to. He paid her well enough to only keep him. To be honest, it had seemed almost wrong to take on any other client but him even though it was something she knew some girls did.

She sighed remembering all those messages in her inbox. She’d gotten some messages pretty recently actually.

This was a sign. She should just admit that this couldn’t last forever. It was time to let Jimmy go. He could find someone else. He had worked up his confidence with her. It was inevitable that this couldn’t last. He had to move on with his life. She ignored the way her stomach turned at the thought of him with someone else. This was for the best. She had to do the smart thing for the both of them. She wasn’t right for him. A relationship with him wouldn’t work. She needed to set him free.

“I can’t do this with him anymore. It’s time to move on.” Y/N stated hating to admit it. It was the only way this could end though.

It was inevitable.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Jimmy Palmer knew he’d screwed everything up.

She wasn’t returning his calls. She wouldn’t pick up when he called her. She didn’t respond to any of his messages.

It had been weeks now and it was so obvious she was ignoring him.

He’d really gone and messed everything up.

He’d lost her. Then again was she ever his to have?

How did it all get so screwed up?

He knew how, it had all gone to hell when he’d fallen in love with her.

His despondent mood was apparently noticeable to everyone despite his unwillingness to open up about it.

He couldn’t imagine anyone would understand how he felt anyhow. They would all just judge him if they knew the details behind this entire mess.

Dr. Mallard had tried to get him to open up, but Dr. Mallard was the last person Jimmy wanted to know about this entire situation. He wasn’t sure his mentor would approve of any of this. He wasn’t sure Dr. Mallard would have much sympathy for him.

Apparently his mood was so low that even Tony had taken some sympathy on him and in a very uncharacteristic Tony act he cornered Jimmy in the hallway outside of Autopsy fast to speak to him before Jimmy could say no. “You and me Autopsy Gremlin. We’re hitting a nightclub. I don’t know what your issue is but it’s nothing a night out can’t fix. I am speaking for everyone when I say we’re sick of watching you mope. I’m guessing that a woman is the only reason behind why you’re so moody. We’re going out tonight. I feel sorry enough for you that I’ll even be your wingman. You need a rebound and you’ll be good to go.”

Jimmy wanted to say no, but he’d found himself unable to get out of it as Tony had shown up at his front steps and had practically dragged him out of the apartment.

That was how he’d wound up here in a dim nightclub, the neon lights making his head hurt, the music far too loud.

Tony had already tried to get Jimmy to talk to a few girls, but Jimmy wasn’t willing to play along with any of this.

Tony had long ago given up and had promptly ditched Jimmy to go hit on a group of girls that were part of a bachelorette party. He’d tried to drag Jimmy along with him insisting that bridesmaids were always up for a fun night, but Jimmy had resisted.

He’d found himself alone at the bar debating the best way he could escape this nightclub and go home.

He sipped his drink knowing that the alcohol would only make him feel worse.

He let his eyes scan the club the smiling faces of the other patrons doing nothing but making him feel even more terrible. There were so many couples here. Seeing them so happy and in love just made his heart crack all the more.

Why was he like this? He should have known that it would end like this. This was bound to end in heartbreak.

He almost dropped the drink he was holding as he spotted her. It couldn’t be. No fate wasn’t that cruel was it?

It was Y/N and she wasn’t alone.

He felt his stomach turn as he watched the older man she was with slide his arm around her leaning in far too close to her.

She’d told Jimmy that he was her only client. Had it been a lie? Or had his love pushed her away into the arms of a new client?

He felt a wave of jealousy wash over him at the sight of her suitor. The man was much older than him and to be honest Jimmy thought he looked kind of scummy. Sure his suit was nice, and he was handsome enough. It was the way he was gripping onto Y/N though. He was holding her far too tight in Jimmy’s opinion.

As much as he wanted to turn away he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

He felt that jealousy boil down to anger when he watched the man lean in closer to Y/N whispering something in her ear. Judging by the look on her face she didn’t like it because she made an attempt to pull away. Her suitor apparently wasn’t pleased with this and took a tight grip to her arm yanking her back towards him.

Jimmy felt himself moving before he had a chance to second guess himself.

He felt the words leave him squaring his shoulders trying to make himself look far more intimidating than he felt. “Hey, leave her alone.”

Y/N stared up at him, the color washing from her face. Of course he was here. Why would fate be any kinder to her?

The guy stared up at Jimmy seemingly unimpressed with his attempts to look intimidating. “Back off buddy. This is between me and her.”

Jimmy didn’t back off his voice still firm knowing he at least had the advantage of being taller than this guy. “You need to let go of her. She’s trying to get away from you.”

Y/N spoke trying to smooth this all over before someone got hurt. “Jimmy-”

She didn’t have a chance to continue as her suitor spoke. “You know him Doll? You didn’t mention having any other clients.”

He glared up at Jimmy fast to speak again. “Listen Jim, I don’t know how much money you’ve given her, but I’m paying her tonight, not you. I dropped a good bit of money on her tonight so I suggest you back off and let me get my money’s worth. You can have her back when I’m done with her. Trust me, I’m having some buyers remorse right now so you might get her back sooner than later.”

Jimmy felt his fists clench as he spoke. “I’m only saying it one more time, let go of her.”

“Or what huh? Are you serious? You’re willing to get in a fight over a whore?” Jimmy saw red at the statement and raised his clenched fist allowing it to collide with the man’s nose, a crack sounding out audible even with the club music beating around them.

The man let go of Y/N to clutch his nose, blood pooling around him he cursing.

Y/N sighed grabbing a hold of Jimmy’s wrist as she spotted a very annoyed club bouncer making his way towards them apparently having spotted the situation.

She dragged him from the room speaking to the bouncer trying to smooth over the situation. “I know, My boyfriend saw that guy harassing me, he’s had too much to drink. I’m taking him home. Please don’t call the cops we’re leaving.”

The bouncer glared down at them, his voice gruff. “Just leave the premises and don’t come back.”

She sighed yanking Jimmy behind her heading out the entrance and around the alleyway her face flushing with embarrassment and rage.

She spoke, unable to stop herself from sounding pissed. “What in the hell was that Jimmy?”

Jimmy spoke his own anger still so apparent. “You’re welcome for defending you from a creep.”

“I had it handled. I didn’t ask for your help.” She snapped back her arms crossing as she tried to control her anger.

Jimmy scoffed at this, shaking his head. “Oh yeah, you looked like you had it all under control.”

“What’s your problem. Last I checked I’m allowed to have other clients besides you.” She remarked glaring up at him.

“You said I was your only client.” Jimmy exclaimed, unable to stop himself from saying it.

Y/N sighed shaking her head as she spoke. “You were. This was my first date with this guy.”

He spoke, needing to say it. “It’s going to be the last.”

She glared up at him ready to tell him that he had no right to tell her what to do, but he spoke again the words that left him making her defenses crumble. “I just-the way he was touching you. How he talked about you, I couldn’t stand it. You don’t deserve to be treated like that, no one does. Even if this arrangement between us is over, I can’t stand you being treated that way.”

She felt a lump develop in the back of her throat, her voice soft as she spoke. “I won’t see him again…I actually…I think I’m done with this whole Sugar Baby thing.”

She crossed her arms a little tighter ignoring the shiver that ran through her. She regretted not wearing a coat tonight. The little red dress her client had sent her for tonight was more revealing than she’d usually wear.

The message from this client had been sitting in her inbox for almost a month now but she’d just replied to it earlier this week. Against her better judgement she’d agreed to a date almost immediately. She thought it was necessary if she wanted to forget Jimmy Palmer.

Jimmy sighed, spotting her shiver, taking her by shock as he took off his own coat draping it over her shoulders.

She held it against her hating the feeling of warmth that washed over her both at the warmth of the wool coat and the sweetness of the action. She managed to speak averting her eyes from him. “Thank you.”

The two stood in silence for a moment unsure of where to go from here. What could they say in a moment like this?

Y/N broke the silence, her voice soft and broken. “Why did you have to do it Jimmy? The damn necklace, why? You made everything too real.”

Jimmy sighed knowing exactly what she was asking. He spoke unable to stop himself from speaking the truth. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

She closed her eyes, a deep sigh leaving her. Jimmy spoke again needing to just say the words. “I love you Y/N, I love you. I know our situation isn’t typical, but I can’t deny how I feel.”

She shook her head, her eyes beginning to water as she gazed up at him. “You can’t be in love with me.”

“Why not, give me one good reason why I can’t.” Jimmy replied far too stubborn to let this go.

She spoke the words coming to her so easily. “Look at how we met Jimmy. Everything about this thing we have, it was all you paying me for my time. We never even had a real date where you didn’t pay me for my companionship. How do you even know what you feel for me is real?”

“I don’t care if I was paying you. I don’t care how any of this started. I know it’s real. I feel it everytime I look at you. I can’t deny how I feel about you Y/N. I love you. My mind is always with you. Anytime I have a moment of peace my mind goes to you and it feels like my heart is always with you. I can’t stop myself from loving you. I may have been paying you, but everything between us has been real. I’ve always been myself with you and I think I trust you enough to know that you’ve always been yourself with me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before you. It’s real to me. I love you.” He insisted reaching out, taking her hand in his relieved that she didn’t pull it away.

She shook her head still wanting to deny this. This wouldn’t work. Couldn’t he see it? “What kind of foundation is that to build any kind of relationship on? You can’t be in love with me not when it started like this. What are you going to tell people when they ask how you met me? Are you really prepared to deal with people assuming the worst about us?”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. If they can’t accept how I feel about you then I don’t want them in my life.” He insisted his hand not leaving hers as he stepped closer to her.

He stared down at her speaking from the heart needing to say it. “We can start again if that’s what it takes. If this can’t be our foundation then we can build a new one. We can start over.”

He paused letting go of her hand and holding his hand out to her as he spoke. “Hi it’s nice to meet you, my name is James Palmer, but my friends call me Jimmy. I work as a medical examiner’s assistant for NCIS. I’m currently taking classes to become a Dr. Palmer so I can take my medical examiner’s license exam. I like overly sweet coffee and I’ve been told I tell really terrible jokes. I’d like to take you out on a date, actually I’d like to take you on several dates.”

She couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her lips both hating and adoring that he was this sweet. Could he be right? Could they build an entirely new foundation? Could they start again?

She stared up at him, the answer so obvious. It was inevitable really. They’d set themselves on this path the second she’d responded to that first message he’d sent her. There was no denying how she felt.

She gave him her answer, leaning up her lips pressing to his. He managed to realize exactly what was happening easily, his hands pressing to her face deepening the kiss, it being everything he’d dreamed it might be.

She spoke as she reluctantly pulled from the kiss her voice soft. “I would love to go on several dates with you. As long as I can pay for some of those dates.”

He gave her a soft smile, his lips pressing back to hers as she spoke. “I love you Jimmy.”

He smiled into the kiss it growing in passion so effortlessly.

She spoke her voice soft as she once again pulled her lips from his. “I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore. I think I’d rather just be yours.”

He pressed his lips to hers the answer leaving him before his lips met hers. “I don’t want to be your Sugar Daddy anymore. I’m already yours.”

#Jimmy Palmer #Jimmy Palmer x Reader #NCIS #Jimmy Palmer fanfic

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vampish-glamour · 4 years ago

Note

first, i want to say that i hope this doesn’t come off angry. i just don’t see a lot of people with your views and i have some questions and thoughts. also, if only for clarity’s sake, i’d like to ask that you humor me with the existence of an ace spectrum.

i’m not sure why you’d think it’s beneficial for asexuality to have one rigid definition (and it seems that may most closely fit with “aro-ace”), and if someone doesn’t fit it exactly, you think they should simply fuck off with the label? A million different people go through life, discover, and think of themselves in a million different ways.

There are a few caveats in different manifestations of asexuality that can describe the different ways people fit idk, as an example very low attraction, because once you start just sticking with more allo-aligned labels, people will start having certain expectations of you, and if you can’t perform that, well, where does that leave a person? Like, in any instance regarding being with a person, you’d likely have to explain yourself, your low sex drive, attraction, interest in the act itself, or what-have-you anyway, but in my own exp, it seems more legitimate and comfortable to have a term rather than word spaghetti with no root.

I just cannot see how theoretically cutting out language that’s already extant and already has comprehensible explanations for any other party concerned could help anyone. And forgive me if that’s not your intent, but claiming asexuals and asexuality are a monolith that can only be a certain way as opposed to existing on a spectrum makes it seem that way. It seems to do more othering and dividing than unifying, and to me, when weighing the similarities and differences between people who are on the ace-spectrum vs. not, it doesn’t make much sense to group people who don’t exactly fit a perfect void of attraction with people who regularly, actively seek out and have sex. There’s space in between two extremes, imo.

To be clear, too: asexuality is an umbrella term for people that use subidentity, I’m not trying to contradict myself by creating the perception that ace subidentities are themselves divisive. That and I think it’s a little late in the game to start caring about how messy and ever-expanding the English language is lol (and that being a purist about it can get dangerous, if that’s a concern). hope ur havin a good one, and thanks if you actually read✌️

Hi! Thank you for first clarifying that you don’t want this to come off as angry, since it’s really hard to tell sometimes through text on a screen.

Just a preface I’m adding after writing this; I used “you”/“your” a lot, and I mean it as a general “you”, not you as in anon.

Right off the bat, I can humour you with the existence of the ace spectrum in the form of the allo spectrum. Asexual means no attraction. You can’t have a spectrum of having no attraction. Allosexual apparently means having attraction, and that you can absolutely have a spectrum of.

I always use the number line example. Think of a number line between 0 and 10, 0 being asexual and 10 being hyper sexual (not a sexuality, but the best opposite to asexual I can think of atm). Why would everything in the middle be considered asexual, when asexual is 0? I would consider everything in the middle varying degrees of attraction. Even if you’re at a 1, you still experience attraction, and aren’t at 0. Therefore you aren’t asexual. This is because “no attraction” is a much more rigidly defined thing than “attraction”.

You can do the same thing with homosexual/heterosexual and bisexual. Say that 0 is either homosexual or heterosexual, and 10 is bisexual. Since homo/hetero are the more rigidly defined sexualities here (exclusively attracted to the same/opposite sex, while bisexual is attracted to both sexes), you’re not homosexual or heterosexual unless you’re at 0. However, even if you’re at a one because you experience more attraction towards one sex than the other, but still like both, you’d be bisexual.

Point is, you can’t have a “spectrum” of something that’s at zero. You can’t have a spectrum of feeling nothing, or a spectrum of exclusively being attracted to a certain sex. But you can have a spectrum of how much attraction you feel/allosexuality, or a spectrum of bisexuality.

The reason I think asexuality needs to be rigidly defined is because words mean things. What’s the point of having asexual as a label if it can mean whatever fits the individual? We don’t see this with heterosexuality. Nobody is trying to define heterosexuality as having a fluid and flexible meaning. How ridiculous does it sound to say;

“I’m on the hetspec! I experience attraction to the opposite sex, but I also experience attraction to the same sex sometimes so that means I’m demiheterosexual or gray-het”.

Ridiculous, right? So why are we doing the exact same thing with asexuality by saying “I experience some attraction, so I’m on the ace spectrum and I’m demisexual, gray ace, etc.”?

So yes, if somebody experiences attraction, they should absolutely fuck off from the asexual label instead of changing its meaning to fit them. I would say the same thing about a homosexuality spectrum or a heterosexuality spectrum. Yes, everyone has different life experiences and all that, but that doesn’t mean they need to be calling themselves something they’re not.

For the expectations issue, you’d likely have to have that conversation with a partner anyways. I think that most people don’t have a clue what half of these labels mean, so saying “I’m gray ace” will mean nothing to them, and you’ll end up having to go “that means that I...”. So why not just start there? Once again, just because this is an experience people have doesn’t mean they need to change a label to suit them.

It’s not really cutting out language, it’s moreso trying to return the language to what it was before a bunch of people changed the meaning to suit their own needs. I raise you the question; do you think I’m claiming all homosexuals are a monolith by saying “homosexual means exclusive attraction to the same sex, and if you don’t fit that definition you’re not homosexual”? Or by saying “homosexuality doesn’t exist on a a spectrum, you’re either gay or you’re not”? Because that’s exactly what I’m doing with asexuality, I’m saying that it means no attraction whatsoever, and if you don’t fit that definition, the label isn’t for you.

Why is it so important for people to be able to force themselves into a label that doesn’t fit? Why is it better to take away the meaning of a word until it practically has no meaning, than to establish a specific meaning so the word can properly describe something? I don’t think it’s dividing at all to preserve the meanings of words to prevent them from becoming utterly meaningless.

Would you say that it doesn’t make sense to group together people with a perfectly 50/50 split attraction to men and women, with people with say a 10/90 split? Because both of those are just as bisexual as the other. Unless you’d rather call the 10/90 demihomosexual or demiheterosexual, we can apply the same logic to allosexuality. If you experience attraction, even if it’s just a little bit compared to somebody who experiences ten times more than you do, you’re still allosexual. You are not asexual unless your attraction is zero. In the same way that you are not homosexual unless your attraction to the opposite sex is at zero.

I have a hard time explaining myself and I feel like my points may be all over the place.

So here’s a summary:

The asexual spectrum exists, but it’s actually the allosexual spectrum. This is because you cannot have a spectrum of feeling no attraction, but you can have a spectrum of feeling attraction

Sexuality needs to be rigidly defined to hold weight and meaning. Otherwise you’re throwing around words that mean nothing. When somebody says they’re asexual, do they mean they experience no attraction whatsoever, neither romantic or sexual, or do they mean they only feel sexual attraction towards people they form a bond with? We don’t know. When you widen the definition of a word so broadly, it ultimately becomes meaningless.

Homosexuality does not exist on a spectrum of some attraction to the same sex, some to the opposite sex, and heterosexuality does not either. We recognize that as bisexuality. So why should asexuality exist on a spectrum of experiencing varying degrees of attraction, but not always zero, when that should logically be recognized as allosexual?

There is no reason for people to need to change the meaning of a word to suit their needs. If the word doesn’t fit, it doesn’t fit.

I hope that sort of explains my reasoning! I have a hard time properly getting my thoughts into words, so I’m worried that it makes perfect sense to me in my head but the words I’m writing don’t communicate my thoughts. If that’s the case, I’m hoping the summary helps. 😄

#asks #anon

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years ago

Text

The Cursed

My Masterlist

Pairing: No specific ones (other than canon Aslaug/Ragnar)

Summary: “I was wondering if you could write a modern reader from like 2020 meeting Ragnar, Auslaug, Largertha, and the Ragnarssons. I was thinking that reader got thrown back in time somehow (if that makes sense) and I don’t mind if it’s romantic or platonic for any of them. And reader meets them all at the same time somehow.”

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None that I can think of

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long anon.

So, I have a horrible sleep schedue atm and I don’t know what words are anymore. Enjoy this fever dream of a fic, thank you for reading.

I do not know much (if anything) about runes, so I apologize in advance. The ones mentioned here are, in order: ᛒ (to mean birth, liberation), ᚨ (Odin, wisdom) and ᚹ (harmony, kinship)

Again, their meaning is just what the sources I handled had on it, and it was just the internet, y’know? I would love a book recommendation on divination in Viking times, if anyone knows of any good one.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @maggiescarborough @chibisgotovalhalla

His head is covered in a dark hood, and though you can see his mouth, the beard withered by age, the man keeps his head lowered and refuses to meet your eye as you enter.

“You’re here with questions.” The man states, playing with a small piece in his hand, flicking it between his fingers like who toys with a coin.

“I always have questions.”

He smiles, the tracing of a scar on his cheek stretching with the movement.

“Mhm. Time curses you, child, so I suggest you make haste and ask.”

“Time curses me?”

He stops playing with the small piece in his hand, tilts his head to the side, “You doubt it?”

“Yes,” You reply emphatically, frowning at him. “There’s no such thing as curses.”

“Isn’t there?”

“Stop answering my questions with more questions.”

“Why should I?”

You bite back a groan at the insufferable man’s smug grin, and try again, “Alright, fine I’m cursed. Should I expect warts on my face? A perpetual dark cloud?”

“Don’t mock me, child.”

You cannot bite back the smile, “Will you curse me if I do?”

He slams with one inked finger the piece he was playing with against the table between you, and you notice it to be a small rectangular piece of what looks like bone, with a small, angular ‘B’ carved on it.

“I told you, time already curses you,” The man sighs, and leans back, leaving you to study the small piece he showed you. “And all souls are cursed, though with a different burden. Knowledge, legacy, indefiniteness, irrelevance, pain, life, time.”

You force your eyes to part from that small piece of bone, and lift your gaze to him, finally relenting.

“I’m listening.”

“No,” He states, resolute. You lift your eyebrows, but the man only smiles again, “You’re learning.”

____

Someone shakes your shoulder, and you groan, both at their insistence you return to the world of the living and at the pain that threatens to split your head in two.

“Get up, the Queen calls for you.”

“The what?” You mutter, sitting up on the hard bed. You open your eyes to find a girl dressed in a heavy-looking dress, with braids keeping her wild hair off her face.

“The Queen, you daft woman,” She insists with a smile, as if you are friends, as if you know her. “Don’t keep her waiting, get up.”

You go through the motions of getting up, only too late realizing the sounds you hear, the voices that reach you, are not familiar at all. Even the sounds that come out of her mouth aren’t familiar.

“How do I-…?” You try speaking your language, but that strange gibberish comes out. You cover your mouth with your hand, wide eyes searching the nothingness, and the girl turns around.

“What’s the matter with you, huh?” She asks, again gibberish, but you understand her.

“This is…this isn’t my home, where-…there’s something wrong,” You turn around, searching the worn wood of the walls for a sign, and in the bed you were sleeping on there’s a small piece of bone. That damn letter ‘B’. Fuck. “I’m insane,” You tell yourself, turning wide eyes to the girl as if she could have any answer, “Wh-Where am I?”

She says nothing, only takes you by the arm and tries guiding you out the door. You have half a mind to let her, but in a frantic movement you reach for the small bone and clasp it tight in your hand before letting her guide you to the longhouse.

She greets a woman that sits with her back straight and her eyes all-seeing on a throne, and leaves you there, alone, before her.

“Your eyes are strange,” The tall woman says, eyes lined with a thick line of black kohl looking over you, focusing on your own eyes. “Come closer.”

You do so, shaking legs carrying you to her, trying with all of your strength not to focus on the thrones behind her.

She grabs your chin with cold fingers, looks deep into your eyes and makes you feel she’s looking into your soul. Invasive, really. If you weren’t so fucking terrified, you might have tried saying something.

“Mother?” A deep voice calls from behind you, but neither you or the woman, the…the Queen move.

“You’ve been touched by the Gods. You’re-…” She stops herself, and lifts her gaze to look over your shoulder and smiles, warm and motherly, “Ah, Ubbe. You talked with your father?”

You turn to meet the piercing blue eyes of a tall man with long hair that trails down his back, shaved sides. His eyes are trained on yours, before he offers his mother a nod.

“Yes. What’s wrong with her?” The man asks, and another man walks in from behind him, biting into an apple and looking you over with a strange sort of detached curiosity. The older man ignores him, and insists, “They say she woke up blabbering about the world being wrong, that she’s gone crazy.”

“She’s not crazy, she’s just…the Gods have touched her eyes.” The Queen states, her hand almost protective when it settles on your shoulder. It somewhat helps you stop shaking.

The tall man, Ubbe, offers you a smile you think in a less threatening-looking man would be comforting, “You’re a friend of the sons of Ragnar, we more than many know of the way the Gods touch our lives. There’s nothing to fear.”

The Queen lowers her voice and speaks directly to you, “We will talk later. You should go with my sons, eat something.”

The man that chews on the apple, leaning one shoulder on a wooden pillar looks at you and offers you a reassuring smile, or an attempt at it anyways, mouth full and all.

You bite down fear, and approach him.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Maybe if they decide to cut off your head just for the hell of it, you’ll wake up. Right?

The men she called Ubbe and Hvitserk guide you through dark and tall halls towards a well lit and ample room where a long table and plenty of food sit.

Two men that were arguing with one another turn to you when you enter, sharing a glance between them and focusing pale eyes on you. The blond of long hair looks you over with curiosity, the hint of empathy in his eyes. The other one, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, so alike the ones of the man they call Ubbe, looks at you like a beast that’s planning on attacking, and it makes your throat dry.

Fuck, you’re really going to die here, aren’t you?

Well, at least you’ll die surrounded by attractive men. That’s heaven to some people, right?

You sit stiffly on the table, and the blond breaks the silence.

“What’s with her?”

Ubbe shrugs, “Mother says the Gods have touched her eyes, that she’s…different than she was last night.”

You turn your gaze to your plate, content that at least the piece of lamb in front of you is familiar. After carefully looking over the men -Princes, you suppose?- and how they eat, you decide picking the small pieces off the bone with your fingers isn’t that inappropriate, apparently, and set to eating.

“What did you do to her?” The blonde presses, tone angrier.

The Prince of short dark hair frowns, “Me? Why would I do something to her, huh?”

“You were with her last night,” His brother doesn’t hesitate in accusing, making the other man grow angrier, “You’re crazy, maybe you made her crazy too.”

You almost want to argue that you’re very much not crazy, thank you very much, but instead just watch with wide eyes as the two brothers start arguing.

You don’t hear most of what they are yelling at one another, but you do notice they all hold their breath when the short-haired one with piercing eyes leans his arms on the table, and seems to drag himself into a standing position.

Your eye the man’s legs, and notice they are bound together, and he can’t lean on them, as if he’s paralyzed.

Standing up doesn’t seam the smartest choice, and the world -strange as this one is- proves you right when he falls back into his chair with a grunt of pain.

The cruelly delighted smile on the blond Prince’s lips unsettles you.

Their ruckus, their argument, is ended when two figures walk through the doors towards the room.

You notice how the Queen passes by her eldest and touches his shoulder with affection, shares a smile with the one they call Hvitserk, and sits at the side of Ivar. You notice Sigurd’s eyes follow her with resentment, with anguish.

You don’t have time to dwell on it, because a tall and imposing man strides his way to you without hesitation, his walk that of either an insane man or a dead one.

The man leans close to you, one hand on the back of your chair, a strange air of deadliness and fragility in his crazed and sad eyes.

“You are a burdened one, or so my wife says,” He spares a fake smile that looks like a grimace to the Queen. He leans even closer to you, mouth by your ear and nose almost pushing into your hair as he breathes, “Is this world the wrong one for you too?”

You speak for the first time since you realized the words leaving your lips were in a language you didn’t know but still understood.

“More than I could say.”

He huffs a breath that could have in another world been a laugh, and leans back, walking confidently to the Queen and sitting at her side.

And so you sit there and eat, and watch and listen as they interact. And so you start feeling a little less insane with each moment you can breathe in of this strange world.

The day goes on, and you don’t wake up. With each passing hour, even if you have no way of counting those, your heart settles, and your breathing grows easier, and you can almost call familiar the life whoever they confuse you with lived.

Night falls, and when you walk the streets towards the place you woke up in, you catch sight of a figure in a small clearing overlooking the hills. The King.

His back is turned to you, and his eyes seem to be focused on the horizon, but he turns his head to the side and calls out your name. It still sounds so strange in these people’s lips.

“Come closer, I won’t hurt you.” He asks, a smile that disappears after a moment on his lips. When you do, his gaze returns ahead, silently telling you to do the same.

In the distance, you see what looks like a figure forming before your eyes. The distant cackle of a raven, and there’s a man over those hills, hooded cloak overing him and a walking stick in his hand.

Even in all the space that separates you, you feel his eye set on you.

The King takes a deep breath, and you have half a mind to ask if he sees him too when he starts, “Between mind and memory, tell me, what would you rather lose?”

You meet the eye of the man in the distance, and two of the ravens that flock around him approach you. You cannot help but follow them with your eyes, craning your head back to watch their black wings and their contrast against the night sky.

The sky that, when the dark wings that for a heartbeat obscured it pass, is a familiar one.

____

You find him, of course you do. You don’t have a choice, it’s either finding that man or accepting you’ve lost your mind. You woke up in a world that, while familiar, it was somehow strange too; after...after knowing of the other one, of the other life.

He welcomes you with the same knowing smile, and this time you find yourself smiling back.

“You return. And with even more questions.”

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Gods, please don’t start this again,” You snarl, settling on the seat across from him and leaning closer, resting your elbows on your knees. “What…what did I see?”

“I told you that you were going to learn.”

“So a-a lesson?”

“Was it a lesson to you?”

You bit back irritation at the way he continues to answer with more fucking questions, and press, “On what?”

“To each soul a curse means a different thing. You learned that, didn’t you, child?”

You can see clear in your mind’s eye the faces you saw, the people you met, the stories you were granted a glimpse into.

“Knowledge,” You list out, “that was…the seeress, Aslaug. Legacy…legacy was Ubbe, he looks just like his father. Indefiniteness…Hvitserk?”

“He didn’t speak a word, did he? Couldn’t decide if you were the woman he knew or not. Couldn’t decide many things.”

“Pain…pain is Ivar. Irrelevance, his…his brother, Sigurd.”

The man nods, his smile widens.

“And Ragnar…” Your breath stutters past parted lips but your words die.

“Even life can be a curse.” The man finishes for you, and you nod your head dazedly, taking his words, his lesson, in.

You fetch the worn piece of bone from your pocket, trace the strange ‘P’ of the rune with a smile. You woke up with a different one on your bed, in that other world, but this one was the one that accompanied you back.

“And me? How did…how does time curse me?”

“It pulls you in two directions. It forces you to choose.” He answers without hesitation, head still lowered.

You notice he once again holds two runes in his hand, the same one he gave you that day, before all this madness, the angular ‘B’; and another, one that looks like an ‘F’ with an angle to it.

“And what can I choose?”

The man chuckles, finally looking up at you and meeting your gaze with his one eye.

“Between mind and memory, tell me, what would you rather lose?”

____

Soooo yeahhhh. I had fun writing this. That’s what counts, right? I enjoyed my little references to Huginn and Muninn, enjoyed my little ‘surprise bitch, it’s me, the big guy™. Btw, you can go back, y’know?’ at the end there, enjoyed putting this poor reader through that madness lol

I’m so sorry if I dissapointed the anon that requested this, and I’m really sorry if this sucks. I tried lol

Thank you for reading, I love you!

#vikings #vikings imagine

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honeyhan-123 · 5 years ago

Text

Neon Red

Summary: Feeling the failure of not being able to defeat Thanos, Steve longs to feel something else, anything else, and so he finds himself as a patron at The Golden Circle where our reader (known as Kitty by customers) is a dancer.

Warnings: Dark!Steve, Stripper!Reader, stalking, male masturbation, dubcon/noncon.

Word Count: 4.5k

AN: I’m so sorry there isn’t a Say Thank You update this weekend but please enjoy a slutty oneshot, it’s also a little spin off from the Project Legacy fic (you don’t have to read it to read this.) I would also love to thank @castedcaricaturesfor betaing this fic for me and @iwantutobehapppier and @omega-nicole for giving me their opinions about an issue I had.

My Masterlist

The neon red sign above the door reflected in Steve’s blue eyes as he stood, staring up at it, hesitating as he stood out on the street. He knew if his ma were still here that she would kill him if she ever found out he was about to enter an establishment like the ‘Golden Circle’ but that was exactly why he was doing it. She wasn’t here. No one was anymore.

For once in his life Steve Rogers wanted to feel something, wanted to give into his more carnal instincts. And so here he was, wondering if he had gotten enough cash out of the ATM across the street, wearing a dark blue baseball cap pulled low over his brow, praying that no one would recognise him.

Yet as he pushed open the heavy door and was greeted by the sickly sweet scent of the club, he realised his fears had been for nothing, hardly anyone spared him a glance, too enraptured with the dancer who was up on the podium. Even though it was a bit of a darker atmosphere than what he was used to, Steve liked it. He liked the dim red lighting - from where it originated he couldn’t tell - the plush brown leather booths, the mahogany bar behind which there was an alcohol cabinet that could rival Tony’s. It was modernised sure, but it reminded him of something that he might have seen back in his own time if he had dared do something so salacious and he knew that he had made the right call by coming here.

Straying a little further from the stage, he sat in one of the lone leather high backed chairs, hands running down his thighs, a little unsure of what to do as he surveyed his surroundings, barely even glancing at the woman on the stage. A server came over, holding a tray with one hand as she lent down, practically pushing her chest into Steve’s bearded face and while he appreciated the view of her scantily clad nipples, he wasn’t all that invested.

‘What can I get you handsome?’ Her voice was wrong, it was too much, too overt in its sexuality.

‘Just a scotch thanks.’ Even though he wasn’t interested he still slipped a twenty from his wallet, tucking it into the scrap of material that were her panties. ‘Keep the change.’ She smiled, her eyes seeming to eat him up before she turned and walked away, swaying her hips intoxicatingly.

The dancer on the stage finished her set, a raucous applause following as she made her way around the crowd, collecting tips from greedy hands. Steve’s scotch was set down next to him and he thanked the waitress as a voice cut through the applause.

‘Once again that was the gorgeous Glitter! Isn’t she just stunning? For those interested she does private shows too, just her and whatever lucky bugger in our lounges. Send an inquiry if interested.’ There was a pause in which Steve considered what the MC had said. Private shows, maybe that’s where he should be. But not with her, no. She wasn’t quite right.

‘Next up, is the sensational Kitty! Gentlemen please give her a very warm welcome.’ Steve's gaze was at once pulled back to the stage as the deep red velvet curtain parted, revealing her.

Immediately he knew. He knew she was the one. He watched enticed as she performed, her body twisting and twirling through the air with a sense of grace - of elegance - that the others just hadn’t held. For the first time since it had happened, he felt himself get hard, achingly hard. The desire to reach into his pants growing with every second that his eyes drank up her form.

He could almost pretend that it was only him, that he was the only one in the room with her, that she was dancing just for him. He didn’t necessarily care about the other men watching her because he knew, deep down, that she was his. It didn’t matter that she didn’t even know him or that he had only just seen her, she was his for now and forever more.

He waited until her dance was over, pulling a handful of twenties from his wallet and this time when she sashayed across the crowd for tips, his greedy hands joined the others. Swiftly tucking the money into the black silk, just above her vee. He relished in the way her eyes grew larger as she caught sight of the amount he had given, the way they had followed his deft fingers from her panties and up his arm before coming to rest on his face.

‘Thank you.’ Just those two words had Steve ready to cum right then and there. Her voice was so soft and delicate, just what he had been looking for all this time.

‘You’re welcome Doll.’ He fell in love with her smile, not that fake one she had worn when she was dancing, but the real one she wore now, her teeth gleaming in the dim lighting.

‘I-’

She was interrupted by a portly man calling her name, taking her attention away from him as the man gestured to her to come to him. Pausing slightly, she turned back to Steve but he raised his hands, a smile on his face.

‘Go. I need to head off anyway.’ He tried to make his voice as easygoing as he could, not wanting to let her know the dark thoughts plaguing his mind. She smiled at him once more before turning on her heel and crossing the room to who Steve could only assume was the manager of the establishment, his eyes following every sway of her hips until she led from the room and out of sight.

Stretching out his muscles, he stood from the leather chair, leaving a twenty underneath his now empty glass before pulling his cap further down his brow and heading out of the building, his phone in his hand as he searched Stark’s database for just who this angelic Kitty really was.

It really hadn’t been that hard to find her, the real Kitty. Ten minutes of searching had given him her real name, her address, her credit history, her family backstory. Camped out on the roof across from her apartment Steve chided Stark’s technology. In the wrong hands it could be quite dangerous, having such easy access to anyone’s personal details.

But it was fine, he was here to protect her now.

He waited up on that cold roof for nearly two hours until a cab came by, stopping just outside the crummy apartment complex. Even in the dim light emanating from the streetlights, his Kitty seemed to glow, shining bright and beautiful like an angel. He watched as she let herself in, a few minutes passing before the light to her apartment flickered on. He blessed the fact that she hadn’t drawn the blinds, thinking herself safe, tucked away on the twelfth floor. She gave him an uninterrupted view of her apartment, of how she wandered from the cramped kitchen/living room into her even smaller bedroom, disappearing briefly into the bathroom before emerging in only a towel, her wet hair cascading down her back, sticking to her smooth skin.

For the second time since the snap had happened, Steve felt his pants grow tight, the need to feel something, anything, overtaking him. He adjusted his perch on the roof, making sure he still had a good visual of the bedroom as his hand dipped down, briskly undoing his belt and pulling himself from his jeans.

He watched as her towel dropped to the floor, the fluffy white cotton kicked aside, revealing her body to him. Despite the fact that he had practically already seen it in the club, he couldn’t hold in the groan it caused, his hand wrapping around himself and pumping furiously as the pretty girl in the window got ready for bed.

‘Hey Kitty, he’s back. Again.’ You tried to hold in the smile Glitter’s words caused, the jealousy barely concealed, but you couldn’t blame her. Whoever he was, he wasn’t like the other men who frequented the ‘Golden Circle’ in a lot of ways. He wasn’t sleazy like the others, his hands - while they did occasionally linger - never groped bits of flesh as they slipped twenty dollar bills into the thin straps of your outfits and although he never took off the dark blue baseball cap, making it near impossible to see his face, you could tell he was attractive, his biceps bulged and his thick thighs looked like the most comfortable seat in the world.

While his continual presence did make you slightly uneasy, it also gave you butterflies, seeing his eyes always fixated on you, even when you weren’t the one on stage. He barely spared a glance at the other girls despite them trying their best efforts to draw his attention. He only wanted you. His presence made you not care about never booking a session in the Lounge because while the increased pay of a private show would have been nice, he was always by the mainstage, plus his tips were always far too generous.

Your heart raced with the typical pre-show jitters, incensed by the fact you knew he was out there, waiting for you and when your music started you took a deep breath, fully transitioning into Kitty, the cheeky dancer, before stepping out on stage. Like usual, your eyes flitted around the club, searching for him and when you finally found him, sitting towards the back, you made sure to give him your cheekiest smile.

‘Let’s give it up for our resident cheeky little Kitty Cat!’ You barely heard the obnoxious voice of Mike the club’s MC, opting instead to go to your happy place. When you had first started at the ‘Golden Circle’ it had been hard to zone out from the leering and drunken men but reflecting back to your days as a ballerina had helped. Although it was now a completely different style of dance, pretending that you were on stage in your pretty pink pointe shoes performing for your family had given you the peace of mind you needed to get up on stage every night.

Now however, your happy place had a much different setting. You were still up on stage, yet it was a smaller stage, a plush leather couch at the base of it, the walls lined with a deep red velvet, casting a sensual appearance over the room. Instead of a crowd full of strangers, you only performed for one man, a glass of whisky in his hand and a blue baseball cap pulled low over his brow as he watched you.

You knew it was wrong, dangerous even, to fantasise about a client like that, but it was what helped get you through the grueling shifts and with the way he watched your every move, you didn’t think he would mind.

As your dance came to an end, you did your usual rounds, sitting in a few laps, having your flesh groped as tips were slid into your red bodysuit. As always, you saved him for last, finally wandering over to his couch, your smile not as fake as it had been.

‘Well hi-ya stranger.’ You joked as you neared, and you thought that you just might’ve died when you heard his responding chuckle, one of his rare smiles gracing his lips.

‘Doll, I don’t think we’re strangers at this point.’ You smiled as he leaned forward, his hand slipped down between your breasts to place a couple of bills there. You were surprised when his other hand crept up behind you, gingerly wrapping itself around your waist. ‘So, I was thinking… How about a dance sugar?’ Your eyebrows raised on their own accord, your surprise evident. Despite how often he came into the club, he had never asked for a dance. The only time that he had come close was when he had asked you offhandedly, if you minded being the one to serve him his drinks when you were on duty. Although you had felt guilty about keeping him to yourself you had gladly agreed, how could you not?

When you realised that he was still waiting, you snapped out of your reverie. ‘Of course Darling, anything for you.’ Despite how full your body suit was, you didn’t want to keep him waiting, so you stalked around behind him, beginning your routine as you slid your hands down his chest, your lips coming to his ear.

Most of the time doing by-stage dances you found yourself having to grit your teeth, barely able to keep down the bile yet as you danced for your stranger the smile on your face was a hundred percent genuine.

‘You know, I feel kind of bad. We spend all this time together, yet I don’t even know your name.’ He shuddered as you whispered into the shell of his ear, being sure to brush your lips against the soft, supple skin.

‘I’m Steve.’ His voice was rough as he spoke, his adam’s apple bobbing, drawing your attention.Your hands danced back up his chest, smoothing out his shirt as you walked back around, being sure to keep one hand on him.

‘Well it’s nice to have a name to put to my favourite patron.’ Your hand wrapped around his neck, gripping onto the dark blonde locks as you nudged his feet further apart with your heels, sliding into the new space between them.

‘Your favourite patron huh?’ You loved the prideful tone that rang through his voice as you leaned down, pushing your chest towards him.

‘Of course Sweetheart, how could you not be?’ Your hands trailed down his chest once more, dancing below his belt line, skirting the growing bulge to trace the tracks of the rough denim coating his thighs. From here your arms could squeeze your breasts together as you leaned over them, the stray hairs of his beard nearly touching the red satin cups and just as you thought he would lose control and lean into the soft skin, you whipped around. You swiveled your hips as you moved your hands up your body, raising one leg first and setting it down outside of his knee and then doing the same with the other before squatting, just above his lap.

Your hips moved in a figure eight motion, slowly getting closer and closer to where he clearly wanted you to be. Looking back over your shoulder at him you spoke. ‘Tell me Steve, tell me how badly you want it.’

His groan was audible as you continued to tease, never quite touching him where he needed. ‘So badly baby girl. You have no fucking clue. I need you so badly.’ With his groaned words, you finally lowered yourself down onto him sending him a cheeky wink as you did so.

Despite the clubs firm no touching rule, you allowed his hands to rest on your hips as you moved them, your own reaching back and hooking around his neck, giving yourself some leverage. ‘Do you like that Stevie? Does that feel good?’

He didn’t answer your questions verbally, but the way he thrusted his hips up against yours was a clear enough response. You continued moving against him, letting his hands force you down harder on his crotch, letting him use you as he chased his orgasm. ‘God… Fuck Doll. You make me feel so fucking good. Yes…’ His words were a jumbled mess as he came closer and closer and you felt his hands dance up your body to squeeze your tits.

You knew you should pull away, knew it was wrong to let a customer touch you like that, but the way his groans were ringing through your ears was addictive. In that one moment, the only thing you wanted to achieve was getting this man off, whatever that meant doing.

He rolled your pert nipples between his fingers, rubbing you through the smooth satin as he moaned. ‘Yes, that’s it Doll, I’m so fucking close. Oh god, fuck, Doll. Make me cum baby, make me fucking cum.’ You moaned with him as you moved your hips up and down his crotch and you smiled as you felt his thighs tense beneath you, a long loud moan coming from him that almost covered the sound of satin tearing.

Your hips stopped moving as you looked down, barely registering through your shock the gaping rip down your body suit. You jumped out of his lap, trying to keep the material against your chest as you stared down at him, wanting to scream.

‘Fuck, I’m so sorry Doll. I didn’t mean to. I was just holding it and then when I - it just ripped. I’m so sorry, here. Take my jacket back to the changing room.’ You pursed your lips, trying to refrain from showing your anger, knowing the tips would be better if you could make it back to the dressing rooms before the curses started spilling from your lips. He held out a smooth brown leather jacket and you murmured a thanks as you slipped it on, barely registering the obscene amount of money he slipped into your hand before you turned on your heel, disappearing down the corridor, and edgy feeling creeping its way inside you.

Steve didn’t need to return to the club the next night to know he had messed up. There was a clear no touching policy and he had not only done that but he’d ruined your suit and your trust. He had seen it in the way you had barely smiled as he gave your jacket and then later how you had given it to one of the other girls to give back to him.

By the time he had realised you weren’t coming out for your floor shift, you had already left and when he finally got to your apartment, he was disappointed to see your blinds drawn shut. He had taken his frustrations out on a nearby trash can, cursing himself for losing your trust. You were the one thing in this fucked up world that made him actually feel something and just like with Thanos, he had fucked up and just like with Sam and Bucky, he had lost you too.

But he hadn’t… not really. You were still here, you could still be his. He just might have to change his approach a little. It could still work.

The next night Steve waited anxiously on the plush leather couch, admiring the velvet walls as the minutes ticked by. It hadn’t been long enough that he was worried you weren’t going to show, but he was impatient. He wanted, no, needed to see you again, to feel you rub against him as you drew him to his orgasm. Despite the terrible way the night had ended, the orgasm you had brought out had felt so good, it had been his best ever and he had cursed himself for those few seconds before he realised what had happened for not requesting a dance earlier.

When he had first discovered your apartment and your tendency to leave your blinds open he had thought that would be enough, that sitting up on that cold and lonely roof with his fist wrapped around his cock would be enough. But it wasn’t, and now, he had a taste for more.

He heard the click of heels through the thick mahogany door and anxiously wiped his hands along his thighs as the wood was pushed open, revealing your silhouette on the other side. He watched as you walked towards the stage, the door closing behind you, stopping just before you got to the platform.

‘Why did you book the Lounge?’ In the silence of the room, your whisper sounded like a scream.

‘I wanted to apologise, plus, I need to see you again. And I figured this way, we could talk.’ You scoffed at his words.

‘Talk?’ You mocked, laughing as you spoke. ‘You men never want to just talk. I thought… I don’t know what I thought but I know that I’m sick of it. So now you have two options, you can either leave or I can call security and have you escorted out. It’s your choice.’

Steve felt his mouth go dry, he couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t allow it. ‘Doll please… you don’t want to do that. Please don’t do that to me.’ You ignored his warning, reeking of his desperation, but before you could open your mouth to scream, he had lunged from the couch, his arms wrapping around you, one securing your back to his chest, the other clamped over your mouth.

‘I told you not to do that Doll.’ You writhed in his arms trying to twist away from him to no avail. The small groan that escaped his lips disgusted you as he sat down on the stage, pulling your hips against his. ‘Be a good girl for me, please Doll. You have no idea how much I need this.’ Your scathing response was made unintelligible by his hand as his other dipped into the sparkling blue skirt you had on, pushing the matching panties to the side as he swiped a finger along your slit.

His breathing was heavy in your ear as his fingers swirled around your lips, gathering the slick that was beginning to pool. ‘See Doll, you want this too. I know you do. Fuck, I’ve seen it with my own eyes how you would dance just for me, even in that crowd of men.’ Your muffled protests turned into hesitant moans as he entered you with two fingers, his thumb pressing down on your clit. ‘That’s it, that’s a good girl. Just sit back and enjoy it, doesn’t it feel good?’

Your hands clutched at his thighs, your head resting on his shoulder as you gave in, your hips twisting against his hand, riding it on their own accord. His fingers scissored inside of you, curling themselves against your walls as his thumb rubbed your pearl frantically. You didn’t miss the growing bulge beneath you but you could barely form a coherent thought as he pulled you to the edge.

‘That’s it Doll. Just let go for me, I know you’re close.’ You hadn’t realised when his hand had drifted down from your mouth to rest on your throat, but the gentle restriction had you seeing stars, screaming silently as you convulsed in his arms, letting go for him.

You watched in silent horror as he lifted his hand from your mini-skirt and raised it to his lips, moaning around the thick digits. ‘You taste better than I ever could have imagined, I can’t wait to feel you.’ You shuddered against his thick chest and gasped as he flipped you around, your chest pressing against the cold hard wood of the stage.

You yipped as he pulled down the skirt and panties, exposing your heated centre to the cool air, a moan coming from him along with the clink of a belt buckle. You tried to worm your way out of his arms even though you knew it was worthless trying, he was far stronger than you.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt him, sliding along the slick that he had caused, coating himself in it before coming to your entrance and pausing for a brief moment. You barely dared to hope that he would pull away and yet when you felt him slowly sinking into your heat, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Of course he would just do what he wants.

‘Oh god… Doll… Fuck.’ You felt the stretch of your walls as he eased in, pain shooting through you from just how big he was. You lay helpless on the stage’s edge as he began pushing in and out of your cunt, groaning obscenities as he did so. One of his hands dipped down, between you and the stage to swipe over your pearl teasingly.

‘That’s it baby, you feel so fucking good, taking my cock so well.’ Your heavy breaths filled the air as you tried, and failed, to maintain your composure. Sweat was coating your skin as he thrusted, your knees rubbing themselves raw against the plush carpet. The familiar tightening ricocheted through your body you came close, your toes curling in apprehension, only to uncurl moments later when he pulled you from the stage, flipping you over and pushing your legs up, above your head.

The carpet was rough against your bare back but the new angle was worth the pain, being able to feel him fill you so completely was worth it. His full lips covered yours, his tongue meeting yours halfway as moans tumbled from your mouth into his and vice versa.

His hips were unforgiving as they pounded into you, filling you to the brim and hitting that special spot with every thrust. It wasn’t long before he brought you back to the edge, clearly reading the desperation for release written all over your body.

‘Cum for me baby, cum on my cock.’ Your responding scream was lost into his hand, clasping over your mouth once more as your walls fluttered, clenching around him. His hips stuttered, his thighs tensed and he thrusted as deeply as he could as he came inside you, hot white ribbons coating your walls and groans filling the room.

He rode out his orgasm, the obscene sounds emanating from your pussy echoing through the room as your breaths mingled with one another as they slowly calmed down.

You lay, staring up at the man above you, his cap probably having fallen off during your struggle, and you finally recognised him. His beard was full and thick and his hair was much longer than you were used to seeing it but the amount of times your History classes at school had been forced to study him, you would never forget his face.

The recognition must have been clear in your face as he hastily pulled out, his cum seeping down your thighs as he pulled his pants back up, handing you your skirt.

‘St-Steve?’ You couldn’t even be sure the words had left your lips but the way he tensed at the sound told you they had.

‘C’mon Doll, let’s have the conversation somewhere private.’

‘We are somewhere private.’ You argued with the man standing before you, the red light casting a strange aura around him.

‘Yeah, but I’m nowhere near done with you.’ His hand was held out before you and you knew he wasn’t giving you much of a choice so you nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead you from ‘the lounge’, pausing to pass you his jacket as you approached the door of the club.

The air outside was cold, unforgiving, as he led you outside, the harsh neon red light of the club slowly being swallowed by the dark night as you walked, hand in hand. To where, you weren’t sure, but you knew it would be wherever Steve needed you to be.

Tags will be added in a reblog

My Masterlist

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #stripper!reader #captain america #dark!captain america #dark!captain america x reader #marvel #mcu #dark!marvel #dark!mcu #dark!verse #honeyhan writes #q it up

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youralternantpersonality · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome My Dear Friend

Warning: N/a

A/n: You know me, I got to write a novel before you can get to the great stuff. I think I keep getting the movie and books mixed up. If I did, sorry. But just enjoy it lol, that's all that matters, right?

Tags: @pillowjj @summeerrr

***

Y/n POV:

I'm walking through the streets of Ontario, Vanity on one side and her "boyfriend" of the month on the other. Ever since the loss of Leo, she's been happily carrying out her dream of living her college experience that she never got to act out. Comes to find out, Leo wasn't her mate; he was her stalker from when they were human. Long story short, they went to college together in the '70s, and he was obsessed with her. One night, lurking outside of her dorm, he was attacked by, you guessed it, a vampire. So, like the trifling ass he was, he attacked her and basically held her hostage all this time. Abusive and manipulative—she wanted a way out. She wasn't expecting wolves to be real, but if she could thank them without getting killed, she would.

Anyway, it has been a little over six months or so since that faithful night in La Push, where I was never seen again. I never got to say goodbye to my family and friends, and when I found out that there was a search for me going on, it was hard to watch. My family and friends posting photos on social media, talking to the police, and holding a conference, all of it broke my heart. We head back to our hotel room thanks to David—wait, was it David? Yeah, I'm going to say David—who graciously paid for two. Unfortunately, no matter how far apart our rooms are, I can still hear them. Fucking vampire hearing. Oh, if you hadn't figured it out, Vanity changed me. I honestly don't really know if I am mad or not. On the one hand, I am pissed; I'd rather be dead than be the walking dead, feeding off people—I prefer the criminals if I'm honest. But I'd rather not have my body lost in a ditch somewhere or parts of it in a shark's mouth.

Regardless, I really want to go back home, but I don't want to leave Vanity. If I had to describe her, I'd say she is like Harley Quinn. Rambunctious, emotional, kind of stupid but smart, party animal, and promiscuous. All of which attracts her victims. Whereas, there's me, the complete opposite of her—I ground her and keep her from being irrational, and she makes sure I "live a little" since I try not to go on a killing spree and I'd prefer to not have my first time with some random guy who I might accidentally kill. Again, I'd prefer to go after the major criminals, male or female, and not the innocent bystanders. I may or may not do active searching in the area for criminal records. I leave the petty crime alone; it's the others with no sense of morality that I play with. A few hours later, Vanity knocks on my door and tells me that we're heading out.

"Where’s David?” I said, swinging my bag over my shoulder and looking around. She gave me a look and rolled her eyes but smiles.

“His name is Kyle. I assume my next victim will be named David?” She looks up at me and smiles. I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. I have this weird ability to know things. I don’t know how I know it, but I just know it, you know? Almost like an enhanced intuition. Not like a psychic, but I just…know what’s next. Harley Quinn Jr. over here is basically a succubus—natural raw talent to draw men in. I mean, yes, vampires can do that naturally, but she could wear a mask, and her voice calls them in.

“I guess we’ll see in the next coming days. Or weeks,” I say, looking ahead leaving the hotel. “So, I can assume that we’re leaving Kyle back at the hotel and heading somewhere? Outside of Canada?”

“Yes, my dear, you are absolutely correct. How about South America? I’ve never been outside of the U.S. That bastard never wanted to. It was ‘unnecessary’ and ‘we have everything we need here,’ pathetic ass.” she says, rolling her eyes at the thought of him. I laugh and change our course location.

“How about Italy instead?” I say, getting a better feeling. She stops and looks at me and smiles.

“Oh! Even better! But we need to be careful.” She said in seriousness.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with Italy?”

“Well, the Volturi is there. Remember how I was telling you about these vampire police/mafia? Well, that’s them. They live in Volterra. I think we can visit, but staying there longer than a week, well really 3 days, may raise a red flag.” Vanity said.

“So, visiting the castle/church is basically out of the question?”

“Yes. They stay there, and the better we lay low, the more fun we can have. Why did you say Italy anyway?” she looked up at me with curiosity. We step up to an ATM machine and take out enough money from Dav-Kyles card and then discard it somewhere where it won’t be found.

“Do we really need to know that answer?” I said, looking at her with a smile. She shakes her head and laughs as we continue onward towards the bus station.

“You need to eat before we stay near anyone.” She tells me. I nod my head and search out for my next meal. I listen to my intuition and walk ahead of us. Weaving around people, turning down different streets until I come upon a high-class looking neighborhood. I calmly walk down the street listening for my next direction.

“Take a left on 5th, then right on the first alleyway. They’ll come,” my inner self said. I follow as instructed and wait. Vanity stopped questioning the things I know and follows along with it. It never led us in a bad situation, and she learned I wouldn’t put us in one. Believe it or not, she’s not evil, misguided maybe, but not bad. Speaking of being evil or not. Here comes our meal.

It was a man, a woman, and a child around six. I looked at Vanity, and she looked back at me. We nodded our heads and waited for the perfect moment. The man, “5’8” dirty blond hair, lanky, with tattoos across his body, was walking in front of the woman and child. The woman—who was “5’3”, long brunette hair with pale skin—was walking together with a little boy with black curly hair, big wide eyes, and dimples. They didn’t see us in the corner of the alley watching them. The man turned around, and before he could do anything, Vanity was behind him. The look on the woman’s face was in a state of shock. Vanity grabbed him by his collar and tossed him near the garbage bin. I looked at the woman, then at the boy, and walked towards her while Vanity was having her meal. I could hear a struggle, and I blocked the little boy's sight.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?” I smiled. We walked back in the direction they came from, finding a frantic mother looking for him. We retrieved the little boy to her and walked back to where her lover (I assume) would be dead at. As we rounded the corner to the alley, I shoved her and made sure she saw my face before I ended her life. Like the life she and her trash partner in crime almost took. Discarding the body and gaining enough fill to complete the bus ride, we head back and proceed to Italy.

~~~

“Remind me to never get on a plane again,” I told Vanity as she skips through the terminal.

“Oh, come on! It wasn’t that bad.” She said sarcastically.

“I’m going to ignore that comment. Now that we’re here, you can lead the way.” She smiles and proceeds to give me the rundown of what we need to do and where we need to go. It didn’t take long to find willing victims to help us. After going to the bathroom to switch out our contacts, we sat at the airport's bar and waited. It wasn’t long afterward that two men walk up to us and proceed to have a conversation.

“My friend and I are stuck here until we can get a hotel room. Somehow, our reservation didn’t go through, and so now we’re stuck. You wouldn’t by happen to know any hotels nearby that aren’t too expensive, would you?” Vanity said, laying it hard on Thing 1 while I played the shy and sad yet worried friend to Thing 2.

“Of course, we do. How about you guys come back to ours, and we can help you get settled in. We’re here on business, and we could use some company while here.” Thing 1 said. We smiled as if we were so grateful and played the willing idiots they thought we were. We left the bar and headed towards their car and to the hotel. We checked in and proceeded to the room. Vanity and I shared a look at one another and smiled. We weren’t going to kill them; we just needed to use them. Then what Vanity does next is entirely up to her. Over the next couple of days, we convinced Thing 1 and Thing 2 to buy us separate rooms but proceeded to see them. It was currently eleven at night, and Vanity and I decided to head towards Volterra. We checked out and went on foot, going unnoticed to others around. Once we hit some wooded areas, we set sail. About an hour later, I was given instructions.

“Turn left, go up a hill, sharp right, then wait.” I do as instructed, and Vanity follows. She asked what I was doing, and I just pointed to my head. After coming to the location, we wait.

“I know there’s a reason, but is there a reason as to why we’re here?” I look at her and shrug my shoulders. Not long afterward, we hear footsteps running towards us.

“Don’t be afraid.” I hear, and Vanity’s face pops in my head. I grab her hand and give her a smile to ease her worry. I let go of her hand as we come upon four figures. Not even 30 seconds later, I hear

“Hot damn.” I look at Vanity and watch her look at the bigger guy of the group. He smiles, and she smiles back at him. I hid my smile behind my hand and try not to laugh out loud. The big boy goes around the blonde little girl in front of him and steps up to her.

“Hello there, I’m Felix. What might your name be mia bella” he says, looking down at her. ‘Ol boy is huge, and I mean Vanity has to lift her head all the way up to look at him. She smiles at him and raises her hand towards him to shake.

“The names Vanity handsome.” She says, giving her signature smile that brings men weak to the knees. They smile at one another, and the little blonde girl announces herself.

“Felix, let's go. Aro will be expecting us.” And they runoff. Felix rolls his eyes and puts out an arm for Vanity to grab and acknowledges me to follow. We make it to the castle, and we are directed to the three kings Vanity has told me about. And dear God, are they some ugly ass people. Aren't Vampires supposed to be pretty?

Long story short, Vanity found her mate and is basically forced to stay here. I, on the other hand, have no need or want to stay here. Aro can read people's minds by touching them (ew) and picking up on my wanting to leave. No amount of coercing will get me to stay. Vanity understood, but I did promise to stay for a while. Just long enough to know that If I leave, I know Vanity would be safe. But by the time I chose to leave, I was instructed not to.

“You’re staying!” she said/asked me, jumping on my couch while Felix stood in the doorway. I smiled and shook my head.

“No, but I will stay for a little while longer,” I said, tapping on my timple. She nodded her head and hugged me. “Plus, I’m still iffy about Felix here. How do I know you won't hurt her?” I said, half-joking half-serious. But with a smile. He smiled back, understanding the underline warning in my tone.

“I promise you, I would kill myself before I hurt a hair on her head.” I nodded my head.

“Remember, I’ll know if something is wrong...” I said, looking at him.

“And that’s why I love you!” Vanity said, hugging my neck. “Did I ever thank you for choosing Italy as our destination?” I laughed and nodded my head.

“Only about a thousand times.” We continued to talk until Demitri came to let us know it was almost mealtime. We left and went to the main room. Felix and Vanity joined them as I spoke to the receptionist. All of a sudden, I notice three people leaving. A human girl and two vampires I recognized from Forks.

“Bella?” they stopped and looked at me. Her eyes widen as she recognized who I was.

“Y/n?! Wha-what, what happened to you?!” before I could respond, Vanity and Felix come back out, hearing the conversation.

“Well, I changed.” I shrug my shoulders. Alice and Edward are just as surprised, and Vanity breaks the awkwardness.

“Hi! I’m Vanity. Who are you guys?” she asked sweetly. I respond to her.

“This is Alice and Edward Cullen, and the human girl is Bella. We all lived in the same area as each other.” She nodded her head. She looked back at me and gave me a sad smile. We realized this is why I didn't leave when I necessarily wanted to.

“Come on. You can tell us everything on the way.” Alice said sweetly. I hugged the shit out of Vanity, and she gave them a warning as I gave Felix earlier. We grabbed some robes and headed back towards Forks. I have a lot of explaining to do.

~~~

Once we landed, I texted Vanity and talked to Alice, Bella, and Edward. I told them I will explain everything when we get to their house. Within an hour of talking to them, I figured Edward and Alice out quickly.

“Be careful of your thoughts and actions...” was the first thought. “He’s a Mindreader” was the second. And “She’s a Psychic” was the third. Edward was slightly standoffish from me knowing, but Alice was ecstatic. It was amusing. She and Vanity would be great friends, trouble makers, but best friends. When we pull up to their house, I notice the rest of the family waiting outside. To say that they were shocked, seeing me is a stretch. The same questions Bella had in Volterra was written on all of their faces. So we proceeded inside to where I explained what happened after my disappearance a few months ago.

“So, I guess I should start from the beginning...” and I proceeded to tell them what happened that night with Vanity, Leo, and the three wolves that came after us. How Vanity decided to throw me into the water and swim off with me. How I basically drowned, and she changed me while underwater. Biting every central artery area and swimming off with me. Now, how did I survive? No idea. It was painful. The transformation and the added pain of not breathing were so frightening that I passed out. We made it to land not too far from the cliff, and she ran towards Canada, unknowing to the wolves. There is where we stayed for the next few months, back and forth from Canada to Alaska and back. I explained what happened and why we were in Italy and how I made a full circle in under a year. Before anyone could ask a question, Edward called out,

“Jakes here.” I looked at him in shock. “You have to hide,” Edward said to me. I looked at him as if he lost his mind.

“What? Why? I won't hurt him. Jakes, my friend.” I said defensively. Believe it or not, I gained significant control over my thirst thanks to my ability. Learning to listen to it helped me better than expected. It took a while to trust it completely, but I’ve learned to do so.

“Y/n. Jake isn't the same Jake as before. He’s...changed.” Bella said. Oh no... the last time I heard that I lost my best friend. I shook my head.

“No...don't say that. Jake wouldn't know as long as I have my contacts in.” Before anyone could say anything, there was Jake, outside looking nothing how the Jake I knew before looked. He was outside asking for Bella to make sure she isn't a “leech.” What the fuck? I went outside to see what the hell was going on, and that’s when Jake saw me. I looked at him and saw why they said he was different. He changed, just like Jared did.

“Y/n! Is that...is that you!?” Jake yelled/whispered, looking at me. I smiled a wave awkwardly.

“Hey, Jake.” He looked in disbelief.

“Hey, Jake? Hey Jake?! You disappear for six months and come back as, as, THIS! And all you can say is HEY!!!” I flinch, taking a step back. “Did that girl do this to you?” I looked at him, confused.

“How did you know about that?” I asked. He shook his head and backed away. A few seconds later, he shifted...into a fucking wolf. Now it clicked together with why Jared went from friendly to hostile. Jake ran off into the woods and howled.

“Jake is going to tell Sam. Prepare to meet up with them,” Edward said. Which Rosalie responded with an eye roll and a sarcastic “Great.” Something tells me that things are about to get real interesting.

Part 1: Hello My Dear Friend

Part 2: Goodbye My Dear Friend

Part 3: Welcome My Dear Friend

Part 4: Why My Dear Friend

Part 5: End My Dear Friend

Request Open! (Go to the description bar on my page to put one in)

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jamies-overalls · 4 years ago

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Obsessed with Damie atm, maybe you could do a one shot of Jamie coming out to hannah, soft fluff, I feel like their friendship hasn't been highlighted enough, and the hannah teasing jamie when dani arrives? Take it as you please just love your work!!

This is such an amazing prompt, I love it. And thank you, I’m so glad you like my writing!! Also, for this prompt, we’re just gonna say that Jamie had feelings for Rebecca because honestly it’s possible that she did. Alright. Here we go!

Life at Bly Manor was something that Jamie was sure she’d never get used to. She had been the gardener there since a little bit before Owen arrived, though he was relatively new as well. It was the first place where she had felt welcome to be herself. Frankly, the Wingraves were the only employers who had completely ignored her criminal record. Her prison sentence had been for something that thankfully wasn’t all that serious compared to other crimes. But, it was on her record, so any potential employers saw it and usually didn’t hire her. The Wingraves, though, they let her into their family. And the people at Bly Manor were a family, in a way. The children, and Hannah, and Owen too. All of them were a family. And Jamie felt more comfortable than ever. Comfortable enough to relax a little bit, to focus less on pretending.

When Rebecca Jessel had come to Bly, to teach and take care of the children, she became part of the family too. But Jamie noticed her in a different way than the others. Jamie was quote awestruck by her, at first. Rebecca was beautiful, first of all. God, she was beautiful, and sometimes Jamie had to stop herself from staring at her. At that attraction was mostly on the surface, so Jamie could shove it down when Peter fucking Quint showed up and started some sort of weird relationship with Rebecca. She could push her feelings aside and just let them be.

But then, she got to know Rebecca. They became friends, sort of. And it was getting harder and harder for Jamie to hide her feelings. As it turned out, Rebecca was more than just pretty. She was smart and ambitious and kind and clearly overqualified for this job. She might have been the most wonderful person Jamie had ever met.

As her feelings for Rebecca grew, her ability to hide them around the other staff of the manor began to falter. Luckily, Owen wasn’t the sort to really pay attention to that stuff. His attention was mostly divided between Hannah, the children, bad food puns, and taking care of his mother. he didn’t have the space in his mind to even notice Jamie staring longingly out the window and Rebecca with the children. But someone did notice. And that someone was Hannah.

Hannah and Jamie had become quite close fairly quickly. It was hard to know exactly why, but maybe it was because they all had their issues and they found camaraderie in that. Among the staff at Bly, Hannah knew Jamie the best. She’d known her the longest, knew her story. And what she knew especially was that Jamie was not one to let people in. If she did, it often took quite awhile. After all, it took Hannah months just to learn Jamie’s last name. But Jamie had let Rebecca in almost immediately. Hannah thought it was quite sweet.

Jamie, though, wasn’t quite pleased that Hannah had noticed. After all, it meant she might have to explain herself, and tell Hannah that she liked women instead of men. And, frankly, Jamie was scared to tell anyone. People somehow managed to be understanding about the prison thing, but the fact that she was gay was just too much for them. It was odd. But she had to say something, to clear up any rumors that might start. So, one evening after Owen had left for the night and Rebecca was putting Flora and Miles to bed, Jamie spoke up. She and Hannah were sitting in the kitchen, drinking some tea before bed.

“Hannah? Can I say something?” Jamie said carefully.

“Of course, Jamie, always.” Hannah nodded, already having an idea as to what this was about.

“I know you saw... you saw me talking with Rebecca and looking at her a certain way. And, and the way that I interact with her, and how it’s different than anyone else. And, it is different, you’d be right about that. But I don’t want it to change how you think about me, okay? I know lots of people don’t like it and aren’t okay with it, but I’m not gonna act on it or anything. I promise. She’s with Peter Quint, anyways.”

Hannah tilted her head slightly, trying to understand Jamie’s extremely vague words.

“Jamie, dear, what exactly are you talking about? Yes, I’ve noticed those things, but I’m not entirely sure what you’re getting at.” She said gently, in a tone that was hopefully a little encouraging.

“I’m gay, Hannah. And I like Rebecca Jessel.” Jamie sighed.

“Ah. I see. Well, I’m rather proud of you, for having the courage to tell me that.” Hannah began. “And I’m perfectly okay with you liking women. And, frankly, Miss Jessel would do much better to be with you instead of Quint, though I don’t know how she feels about women. My point is, you’re safe here. You can be whoever you want to be.”

The topic never came up again directly, though Hannah was especially gentle towards her when Rebecca drowned. She didn’t blame Jamie when she turned back into her cold and bitter self. Considering Jamie’s track record with interpersonal relationships and the feelings she’d had for Rebecca in the first place, Hannah knew that this hurt more than the gardener would ever say.

A lightness did return to Jamie, sometime later, when the new au pair finally arrived. Her name was Dani Clayton, and it wasn’t long before she was the brightest light in Jamie’s otherwise dark world. And Hannah, of course, noticed this with some relief. It was a beautiful thing, to see Jamie happy again.

“You’ve got that look in your eyes again.” Hannah noted one evening while Jamie and Owen were getting ready to head back to town.

“And what look would that be?” Jamie asked with a grin.

“The one you had with Rebecca. But it’s stronger this time. You love her, don’t you?”

Jamie paused a moment. “I don’t, not yet. But I think I will, in time. I want to.”

Hannah smiled softly. “I’m guessing you’ll be spending more nights here, then?” She asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

“Spending the-- Now wait a minute, I like her for more than just that--” Jamie stammered, already blushing redder than Hannah had ever seen from her before. This, of course, just made Hannah laugh.

“Jamie, I am just teasing you. And, besides, I just wanted to know if I’ll have to make up one of the guest rooms for you. Not that you’ll particularly need it, but that way you can sleep there if the kids ask questions.” She chuckled softly.

Jamie rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m going back into town tonight. But other nights... yeah, I might be here a little more often. Feels nice to sleep next to someone.”

Hannah knew then, that Jamie and Dani were exactly perfect for each other. she knew, too, that they’d be together for as long as they could. They were soulmates, even when they first got together.

#the haunting of bly manor #hannah grose #dani and jamie #i didn't write this with the intention of it being feelsy but here we are

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radfem-moira · 5 years ago

Text

This never happens

I’m 19, back from a year abroad, ready for a fresh new start after a bout of depression. I spent my whole summer coming out to be people. It’s not that coming to a sudden realization during my depression made me want to scream it from the rooftops. It’s that literally every single of my parents friends’, my relatives, the neighbours, my high school friends, keep making that same joke. “Did you meet a nice foreign boy over there?” No. No I didn’t. I met a nice foreign girl. It didn’t go anywhere. I regret being such a coward. But I’m not a coward anymore.

I start college again, with a new direction. I’m a brand new person now. I know where I’m going in life (or so I think). I know what I can and cannot do. I know what I want and what I don’t want. I feel so self-confident, so done with this pushover doormat bullshit I used to pull as a way to avoid responsibility.

It takes a full semester before I try joining the GSA again, like I did before my gap year abroad. I'm apprehensive, but since I know most of the old members have graduated, including the one who’s been haunting my nightmares for over a year now, I feel relatively okay going in. I meet new people. New friends. New friends-of-friends.

Some of those friends-of-friends are trans. There were only three trans people in the GSA back when I left, but now almost a third of the membership identifies that way. Mostly “AFAB” nonbinary people and transmen. I think nothing of it. My LGBT etiquette is decent, I think. I know what’s fashionable to say and what’s not. The first time I hear someone call one of our members, a lesbian, a “TERF” for stating that she could not have sex with someone who has a penis, I stay quiet. I don’t think the other lesbian ever came back.

I’m 20. One of our senior executives at the GSA is another lesbian. But then one day, at an educational panel which I’ve organized (I was elected president by that time) at the request of a teacher, she suddenly declares, to an auditorium of over 100 people, that she’s actually “homoflexible”. She tells the whole 100 people that lesbian is the label that she’s “most comfortable with”, because most people “understand it right away”, and anyway she doesn’t think it’s likely she’ll ever date a man again, but she likes to “keep an open mind”, because “you never know”.

A cold feeling of betrayal invades me. I ask myself why. Why? Why not “bisexual”? What’s wrong with “bisexual”? Why do you have to do this to me, and to other lesbians? Why do you have to launch yourself on a diatribe explaining why you, as a bisexual woman, feel more comfortable telling everyone that you’re a lesbian? When actually, you’re perfectly aware that you’ll be a lesbian until the right man comes along? You’re literally playing right into dangerous stereotypes that make existing as an actual homosexual woman a living hell!

Three years later, I’m 23, I have a minor disagreement with a bisexual friend on Facebook, over some unimportant semantics. We’re settling it quite calmly, like adults. Enter homoflexible girl, barging in, berating me for saying something she perceives as “biphobic”, accusing me of “transphobia”. Through that interaction, I learn that homoflexible girl is now dating a “pre-operative trans woman”. Her friends join in for a good old-fashioned dogpile. Eventually, I have to block all of them.

I’m 19 again. One of the friends-of-a-friend I’ve met through the GSA is a transwoman. Well, our GSA has two transwomen. But the other one is different, and we don’t interact much. She’s “straight”, for one (as in, she’s a transwoman who dates men), and lived as a gay man for years before starting her transition. She passes better (because she’s been transitioning for longer, and also because she’s very invested in replicating femininity), and I feel like I relate more to her, although I can’t put my finger on why. I now know that it’s because I related to her same-sex attraction and experiences of homophobia.

The other transwoman is a “lesbian” - she only likes women. Specifically, she likes lesbians. Particularly cis lesbians. I don’t really know how to respond to her awkward, even creepy attempts at flirting (she follows me to the train station multiple times). She’s clearly very nerdy and very socially awkward, and so am I. But beyond that, I can’t find it in me to return the affection. I know I should be able to experience it, but I never could. I just can’t do it. No amount of reading about terfs and genital fetishism and transphobia and how wrong and sick and worthy of death all this is can make me right. I desperately want to want her. I know I should be able to.

The school year ends. Summer comes. I meet my first girlfriend on some dating app. By the time I’m back to school, I’m unavailable. The transwoman switches her attention to someone else, to a new, younger lesbian. I say nothing.

I’m 23 again. Every single girl who called herself a lesbian back in my GSA day is either dating a man, dating a transwoman, or is now openly calling herself pan/bi. One of them berates me on Facebook for objecting her demands that we relabel the LGBT community as the “Queer” community. Continues to call me queer and dyke throughout the discussion despite my repeated expressions of distaste for the slurs. One of her friends jumps in and calls me “privileged” for being a "cis lesbian”. The former lesbian blocks me after I deadname her - that’s right, she identifies as a “him” now. I didn’t even know until someone else told me later. A small loss.

I’m 22. It’s Pride and we’re at a gay club, so while the club is full, I’m perfectly aware that the actual ratio of gay to straight is not typical of the establishment. I’m also very aware of how I look on a clubbing night. It’s fine if someone is attracted to me, if they try to flirt with me, even if they’re male. I get it. But once I’ve stated obvious disinterest, and once you see me clearly trying to hook up with someone else, you should leave me the fuck alone.

The transwoman who shows up with my friend - apparently she’s her roommate - doesn’t understand this simple rule of etiquette. She tries to hit on me in the most awkward, pathetic way, while I’m desperately trying to wriggle away. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Tonight is a night of celebration, and I’m not actually mean, contrary to popular belief. I’m also drunk, and I’m not sure how drunk she is, but I really don’t want to anger her. And finally, there’s this other girl. Ex of an ex. She’s a cutie. I want to tap that. But it’s hard when a scrawny boy wearing a choker and eyeliner keeps trying to get between the two of you.

All night long, the transwoman interferes in the other lesbian and I’s attempts at finding some time alone. She follows us to the atm. She sits between us when we find a table on the rooftop. She keeps trying to talk to me about the most absurdly uninteresting things while I desperately try to stay in group conversations. She’s so obsessed with herself, talking about her job, her parents, hell, even her hormones, and I’m not even sure if she even asked me anything about myself at any point, or if I ever got to spontaneously share. It may have been the alcohol, but throughout this whole ordeal, all I could think of was how heterosexual our rapport felt. She, the male, talking at me, apparently not seeing utter disinterest in my silence. Me, the female, not wanting to hurt her male feelings, quietly enduring.

Finally, we all decide to call it a night. We all need to take the last subway to go home. But as I’m about to join my friends, the girl I’ve been trying to hit on holds me back. “Wanna go dance?” She asks. She knows I’ve been wanting to, but no one else would, so I didn’t. I’m elated. I say yes.

The transwoman turns around. Looks at us. And says “you know what? I think I’ll stay.”

I don’t remember ever feeling this angry at someone in my life. By this time, she was more drunk than anyone else - she’d even been sick (in the women’s bathroom, naturally). We were responsible for her. But all we wanted was to go dance and then go home and have good old fashioned gay sex.

The night had a happy ending regardless of this “woman”’s interference. I regret not simply telling her, at the subway station “sorry, but we’re going home after this and we’re going to have sex and you’re not invited”. But there’s something terrifying about saying no to someone who is supposed to be oppressed, but still behaves like they have privilege. You know others will quickly jump to their defense if you don’t handle their feelings like they’re made of glass. And at the same time, they still have the power to seriously harm you.

This was just a collection of ramblings about the modern LGBT movement. There’s no conclusion to it. This is just it.

#transmisogyny #lesbophobia #homophobia #growing up gay #musings

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fyrapartnersearch · 4 years ago

Text

Howdy there! How are you?

Self

My name is James Home. I’m a 23 year old trans male from Olympia WA. In time zones that’s PST (Pacific standard time) am a visual artist, graphic designer, and storyteller. My Briggs acronym ENFJ. In saying so I’m a huge talker and communicator, physically and literally! Personal interests of mine include BOTW, FFXV, and Hanibal atm. I have a lovely and incredible wife named Isabella. We both additionally like DND (were even painting our minis), collecting Halloween decorations, and watching Avatar the last air bender with our roommate. Though I do have a history in plenty of other fandoms as well and always on the lookout for recommendations.

Preference

So for myself I love to take care of my Rp partners in all accommodations possible.

Meaning if your heart has been craving fluff, rough smut, or a plain ol hug. IM GAME! If none, no biggie let’s make a plot spot!

Roles I usually fall under are but not limited too….

-DOM , Vers, Power bottom

-caretaker, guardian, teacher

-father, handler, knight

-beefcakes, robots, selfless leaders

And so much more!

The roles I lean towards are

-caretaker, strong and silent-ish type, and flamboyant entertainers.

-male roles, trans male roles, open to trying a female role?, non binary, pangender role.

- I do enjoy topping, some aspects of BDSM, and some hard kinks.

-fallen leader, relearning about a loving world, hopeful in a dark world.

-not taking their role as important as they should have or are, “I’ve been doing this for years. But this is new”, and “I brought you your favorite drink wanna cuddle, I’ll provide the sugar?” Types

And so much more!

As far as story things themes are

-highly complex kingdoms

-High pace fantasy

-society by the ocean

-abandon green houses

-heavily dense forests

-fae and fiend worlds

-AUs of pre-existing universes from shows

-magic incorporated

-supernatural

Worlds we design collectively.

My HARD NOs are…

NO MINORS ROLEPLAYING WITH ME, 19 AND UNDER DO NOT APPLY

-abuse in active Rp (can be used from background and really has to depend on circumstance)

-harm of any children

-harm of expected mother

-any form of r*pe play

-blood play, degrading play, hard impact play

-crying kinks, humiliation kink, and electric play

-no smoking kinks either or character usage of substances.

Writing

I’m not too big on proper grammar or sentence structure as long as there was an idea getting across. I’m ok with role playing as many people as you’d like to actively work on, so doubles, and even triples are okay. Plus working two different stories is fun! I do prefer paragraphing and we all know the feeling of one word responses. This is a hobby and creative outlet from myself so that’s why I have no big stressors about punctuation or spelling.

Storytelling

Here are some story concepts I’ve come up with. Yet if you’d like to imply your own let’s talk about it!

Counterpart pathways

A magical filled fantasy realm where all is possible including the bad. One summer day a incubus/demon hybrid named Jona, father of three, learns someone has kidnapped all three of his boys! He's on the hunt for clues and finding them at all costs. Gathering the best crew possible of Moof the best wolf bounty hunter in all the realm, Bell the boys spider caretaker shapeshifter, and Glover the bull/bison hybrid the green alchemist, set off to find the children. Along the way by gathering clues they encounter obstacles and trials of skill and pursuit! Will they ever find the three octopus babies ? Will Jona have closure and put on a shirt? Will Bell ever stop stealing everything shiny? Will Moof grow more confident in his teammates? Will Glover not stop shaking and being such a wuss? Who will help this odd 4 on their epic abnormal quest?!

Puddles

A time traveler that gets stuck in between dimensions due to their powers temporarily weakened from the extensive work they've been doing end up meeting a stranger who takes them in. Not used to the timeline they shows up in, they have to knowledge of normal behavior. They must figure out a way to recharge their abilities but has not of the slightly clue as to what it causing them to have lost them in the first place. Is the person that's helping them good or evil? Who's side are they on? How will they figure them out? Why do they find the stranger oddly familiar?

When men become mortal

An alien/robot/human species that survives by using different masks/chips for various occasions. It's like buying different clothes but they adapt or transform the hoist for a month or less of another body/form/identity. The main character experiences a technical difficulty where their head socket cannot adapt to a new face for long and has to get it repaired. Though along the way he seems to find that not wearing a false identity they actually enjoy seeing the outside world with no expectation of appearance. The other is a identity artist, the one whom develops different faces and identity. He spends hours tweaking details of bodies and faces. He always has the nicest things because of his work and from important commissions and work for certain clients.They meet at a gallery that the artist is hoisting at a museum. The individuals there are decorated like some of the model pieces and others artist curators-part sellers. The faceless one decides to go to the museum to see what's or who's being showcased and since he has a little bit of extra money he saved up for the occasion. Everyone finds him interesting since he doesn't have an appearance, they think he's a model. Thus they send him to meet with the artist for the show. The artist doesn't know him at all. They find eachother very different but most parts similar. From their meeting the artist gets inspired by his original face. Coming to realize that even himself that he has given into the world he never wanted to.The two of them hit it off. Both dwelling into the matters of the "perfect" vessel. Asking the serious questions such as what makes a body, a face, a soul attractive? They go on for hours and it starts to inspire the artists work into his new resorted craftsmanship. The faceless impressed by the purposed questions and also work. The two of them grow closer resulted from talking so much about bodies and meaning. All the while testing out the new creations, body parts, and vessels capabilities. Not all though is good while the two develop this hoist. There's a villain at hand who one of the artist's main clients that goes unsuspected. They want to use the designs to create a vessel for the bad and wealth. Only to include to kill off all humans.The two of them hit it off. Both dwelling into the matters of the "perfect" vessel. Asking the serious questions such as what makes a body, a face, a soul attractive? They go on for hours and it starts to inspire the artists work into his new resorted craftsmanship. The faceless impressed by the purposed questions and also work. The two of them grow closer resulted from talking so much about bodies and meaning. All the while testing out the new creations, body parts, and vessels capabilities. Not all though is good while the two develop this hoist. There's a villain at hand who one of the artist's main clients that goes unsuspected. They want to use the designs to create a vessel for the bad and wealth. Only to include to kill off all humans. Thus forces the artist to reveal his true identity. A human being. Not a hologram. Plus he's not just an artist but a ex-con scientist from the labs that have bloomed into a internalized war. Faceless becomes confused and also hurt that the artist to mention this. Only for the two of them being followed. The artist informs the robot that the hybrids (the children of the robot-species, generations of offspring) are the real threat to society. The one who hoists and is in charge of the power sorce is human and machine. The first of its kind, and also the previous mentor of the artist/ex-scientist. Who will get to the power source first. Our main dynamic couple or the robotic uprising that believe all humans should cease to exist once and for all?

Gay Cryptids

Themes

Active night life

Next to the ocean, sea, body of water.

Beach city/lost boys/Mad max?/punk/ regal?/neon lights/old mascots/vapor wave af

Carnival / festivals

Dark market authenticity

Biker gang(s)

Aquatic features, art, incorporated in surroundings

Lifestyles like fish importing, dock workers, sushi shops, fancy diners

Common foods are all fish and sea foods

The city was a work in process for a resort city, and a major violent storm came too early taking out some of the fancier parts of the island. Most of the higher end houses and mansions were believed to be damaged in the outer edges of the island. There had been a castle built as a main part of the hotel/resort. Old costumes, sets, mascots were left to rot by the seas breeze. Barnacles, ivy, and vines with exotic flora and fauna growing wildly cover the buildings. Possibly even growing in the mansion and other houses. The main part of the biker gang is in a abandoned church next to the sea caves is where the biker gang mostly resides and work primarily as hit men and women. The island would be decided by the two head family of vampires one powerful family versus the other in over control if the current situation of resort in the actual tourist location.A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young. Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young. Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.

Plausible locations

Old mill

Carnival / freakshow

Rides and amusement

Abandoned Church

Greenhouse

Garden

Boat house

Log cabins

CAMP grounds

Old schools

Warehouses

The Docks or Port

Boat houses

Boat docks

Abandoned Hotel

Studios

Bike store

Surf or like diving store

Knickknack shack

Ma and Pa restaurants

Antique stores

Downtown

Library

Hospital or infirmary excotic masion

I have story plots for days SONNNN so these are at skim level for plot.

If you’d like to contact me the best ways are

Discord at

Agodnamedhome#4202

[email protected]

I work from 11:30 to 4 Monday-Friday

But available before, and after for sure.

Thursday’s at 5 are my therapist appointments

Weekends are 100% free atm

Looking for a long term, short term, a friend!

#long term rp #oc rp #mulitfandom rp #email #discord #writting #hobby #rp #roleplay #looking for an online friend #pacfic northwest #orginal content #submission

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agodnamedhome · 4 years ago

Text

Howdy there! How are you?

Self

Preference

So for myself I love to take care of my Rp partners in all accommodations possible.

Meaning if your heart has been craving fluff, rough smut, or a plain ol hug. IM GAME! If none, no biggie let’s make a plot spot!

Roles I usually fall under are but not limited too….

-DOM , Vers, Power bottom

-caretaker, guardian, teacher

-father, handler, knight

-beefcakes, robots, selfless leaders

And so much more!

The roles I lean towards are

-caretaker, strong and silent-ish type, and flamboyant entertainers.

-male roles, trans male roles, open to trying a female role?, non binary, pangender role.

- I do enjoy topping, some aspects of BDSM, and some hard kinks.

-fallen leader, relearning about a loving world, hopeful in a dark world.

And so much more!

As far as story things themes are

-highly complex kingdoms

-High pace fantasy

-society by the ocean

-abandon green houses

-heavily dense forests

-fae and fiend worlds

-AUs of pre-existing universes from shows

-magic incorporated

-supernatural

Worlds we design collectively.

My HARD NOs are…

NO MINORS ROLEPLAYING WITH ME, 19 AND UNDER DO NOT APPLY

-abuse in active Rp (can be used from background and really has to depend on circumstance)

-harm of any children

-harm of expected mother

-any form of r*pe play

-blood play, degrading play, hard impact play

-crying kinks, humiliation kink, and electric play

-no smoking kinks either or character usage of substances.

Writing

Storytelling

Here are some story concepts I’ve come up with. Yet if you’d like to imply your own let’s talk about it!

Counterpart pathways

Puddles

When men become mortal

An alien/robot/human species that survives by using different masks/chips for various occasions.

It's like buying different clothes but they adapt or transform the hoist for a month or less of another body/form/identity.

The main character experiences a technical difficulty where their head socket cannot adapt to a new face for long and has to get it repaired. Though along the way he seems to find that not wearing a false identity they actually enjoy seeing the outside world with no expectation of appearance.

The other is a identity artist, the one whom develops different faces and identity. He spends hours tweaking details of bodies and faces. He always has the nicest things because of his work and from important commissions and work for certain clients.

They meet at a gallery that the artist is hoisting at a museum. The individuals there are decorated like some of the model pieces and others artist curators-part sellers.

The faceless one decides to go to the museum to see what's or who's being showcased and since he has a little bit of extra money he saved up for the occasion. Everyone finds him interesting since he doesn't have an appearance, they think he's a model. Thus they send him to meet with the artist for the show.

The artist doesn't know him at all. They find eachother very different but most parts similar. From their meeting the artist gets inspired by his original face. Coming to realize that even himself that he has given into the world he never wanted to.

The two of them hit it off. Both dwelling into the matters of the "perfect" vessel. Asking the serious questions such as what makes a body, a face, a soul attractive? They go on for hours and it starts to inspire the artists work into his new resorted craftsmanship. The faceless impressed by the purposed questions and also work. The two of them grow closer resulted from talking so much about bodies and meaning. All the while testing out the new creations, body parts, and vessels capabilities.

Not all though is good while the two develop this hoist. There's a villain at hand who one of the artist's main clients that goes unsuspected. They want to use the designs to create a vessel for the bad and wealth. Only to include to kill off all humans.

Thus forces the artist to reveal his true identity. A human being. Not a hologram. Plus he's not just an artist but a ex-con scientist from the labs that have bloomed into a internalized war. Faceless becomes confused and also hurt that the artist to mention this. Only for the two of them being followed.

The artist informs the robot that the hybrids (the children of the robot-species, generations of offspring) are the real threat to society. The one who hoists and is in charge of the power sorce is human and machine. The first of its kind, and also the previous mentor of the artist/ex-scientist.

Who will get to the power source first. Our main dynamic couple or the robotic uprising that believe all humans should cease to exist once and for all?

Gay Cryptids

Themes

Active night life

Next to the ocean, sea, body of water.

Beach city/lost boys/Mad max?/punk/ regal?/neon lights/old mascots/vapor wave af

Carnival / festivals

Dark market authenticity

Biker gang(s)

Aquatic features, art, incorporated in surroundings

Lifestyles like fish importing, dock workers, sushi shops, fancy diners

Common foods are all fish and sea foods

A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young.

Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.

A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young.

Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.

Plausible locations

Old mill

Carnival / freakshow

Rides and amusement

Abandoned Church

Greenhouse

Garden

Boat house

Log cabins

CAMP grounds

Old schools

Warehouses

The Docks or Port

Boat houses

Boat docks

Abandoned Hotel

Studios

Bike store

Surf or like diving store

Knickknack shack

Ma and Pa restaurants

Antique stores

Downtown

Library

Hospital or infirmary excotic masion

I have story plots for days SONNNN so these are at skim level for plot.

If you’d like to contact me the best ways are

Discord at

Agodnamedhome#4202

[email protected]

I work from 11:30 to 4 Monday-Friday

But available before, and after for sure.

Thursday’s at 5 are my therapist appointments

Weekends are 100% free atm

Looking for a long term, short term, a friend!

#rp #rp partner search #rp search #oc rp #orginal content #writting #fantasy #smut #fun #art #self promte

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