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charmed-asylum · 3 months ago

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Girl u taking words out my hod damn mouth huh girl mmm u and I can do a pod cast w way this chapter went. Side note honey boo boo I know the feeling girl it be hard af you wanna just read your stories but got a 15 page paper due by Monday on some boring ass philosophy topic. ( and my ass planning on going to get my doctrine) 🤧😪🤧😪🤧😪🤧😪🤧😪🤧

Honestly idk who I’m more mad at. The father or Ward. “ No one ever took you seriously anyway” Is Rafe really even the dark one ( on fence but he sure as hell a manipulative perk) if you got both a father who okay you might think your doing the right thing which in all turn for you to be a fuckin cop out and wait til your dead dirt still freshly laid to do this to your legacy to your blood to your daughter or Ward who can’t put any respect to it simple more emotions what if this was Sarah or W who had this happen to you but no no u don’t. I love that while it’s stats: dark!grey!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, the reader didn’t seem to bimbo in 1st part.. in all it’s just not the right time for this but damn u make us so invested into this story. Like” Three bedrooms, a wrap-around porch where you’d once dreamed of watching your children play in the yard as you rocked in your chair, and the old, red barn that had weathered time alongside them” so sad because maybe she can have this with Rafe but but it’s not gonna be the same because of a man selfish and lack of respect for a woman or another then themselves it gonna be twist with a sour tastes Ward lit came in busing in like he own it like shit bring a grief counselor or something, You knew you couldn’t lose it, but you weren’t sure how to keep it either. This statement kept repeating its self over and over again. She said it he said I’m sure as hell know dad thought it but is it true sorry but what can Ward or even Rafe know about the land compare to over . ( let me stop my podcast on this one part alone lol) I do want to ask she talks about her mom a lot how long was she alive before he died to have so much confidence on the dad and men oh they can’t be bad daddy care about me and mommy this or that honey your dad was a man 1st dead beat on the horizon second. Shit she could have stay at college hello or something.

“Why do you think he sent me?” He smiled devishly, “I’m the one you gotta worry about, darlin’.”

That got me in a chock hold like man again for a bimbo reader she got to much smarts on her to be a true bimbo but I gotta say trying to escape to a shack and getting bored and coming back with a daisy crown and a bundle of flowers hehe.

“I didn’t forget your horse,” He spoke calmer than you expected, though his tone still had an edge to it, “She’ll follow. Unlike you, she seems to have a decent amount of common sense…This wasn’t the escape you wanted. Not even close

What a piece of shit huh

I wonder if this was first time he saw her when he was following her: And maybe that was true in some ways, but you were more than he had anticipated. He followed you, watched as you handled the horse with ease, and found himself intrigued. Your confusion, innocence, even your stubbornness drew him in like a moth to a flame. Also so you telling me he waited til she got bored went pick a bunch of flowers and made a crown til he decide to say something lol I also do wonder why this like Rafe said this is like a slap in face with a fish deal for him or this a test also I’m worried when he said this : But perhaps his father had seen exactly what Rafe was seeing now. You were raw, so unpolished, and that meant you could be shaped.

In all he stated he how power and this idea of to be shaped idk even if he does manipulate her she obviously has more common sense then they think does she do it right mostly no but I hope and feel won’t be so easy. But I can see away he can get to her way Ward is with him. No lie he play his shitty hand right she might give him a pass or two. —> Proving himself to Ward was a constant battle, every choice scrutinized, every misstep noted. To run the ranch one day, Rafe needed to show he could manage it all, the land, business, and now a wife. Building a home and keeping you in line was just another test.

Okay so John B works for the ranch oooo ooo ooo. Idk but I’m thrilled about this. Also can u imagine the fit he had lol

Also is he upset this was more worried about the horse then him or she talk to John B in general: Rafe only glared at the worker, jaw tight.

What a perv: Please, that made Rafe brow furrow. Rafe took the opportunity to cop a feel, of course, he had to know exactly what he was working with. You were his future wife, after all, “Rafe! I don’t like being upside down!” idk I feel he so all over the place you mad but 1st chance you get to touch her u do . You get mad she talking to a boy and mostly what he call having brat behavior

Huh that whole car scene had me crying and throwing a fit huh huh huh I think W gonna be her new bestie and a reminder for Rafe. Fuckin manipulated the fuck out of Herve this shit mmm mm mmmmmm !!!

“To your room,” He spoke low and firm. There hadn’t been any rough grabbing of your limbs or unwanted rides on Rafe’s shoulder since your kiss in the car. You hadn’t fully let you guard down but you preferred when Rafe was calm, and so you remained calm too, “You can settle in.” Because it’s after that and the other moments yeah he still him but idk more he gonna be w her I think it’s gonna see it change to a different vibe.

Also u know he love playing w her and with this proud love for her daddy girl u about to get a whole new daddy girllllll : Whiskey and mint, “You always did what your Daddy said, right?”

Hate me but that talk about wild horse idk idk but huh i feel hear me out that a threat andddddddd a challenge and maybe ( smack lips) him saying he turn on.

Damn damn damn I hate it bc lets be real we know as rafe drew lovers that he soooooooo bad so bad so naughty so huh all these things and still like a sour candy we go for another huh ( dramatic fall to a chair) damn damn damn that oh u want another kiss we’ll get doll up for me shit smh he gonna do that to her and it was her 1st man o man let him realize that shit. He gonna be baby oil in his hand with lighted candle and some RB music in background fuckin ready . We screw we screws.

You stared, dumbfounded and frozen until the young rancher casually turned and walked out of the room. Your fists clenched at your sides as a storm of emotions swirled inside you, anger and fear. One emotion simmered quietly beneath the surface, unwelcome and disorienting. Anticipation.

rough hands, soft chains [1] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!grey!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, future smut, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: This is an au I'm trying out where Kildare County is actually in Montana and all the pogues and kooks exist within a ranching community. Hope you enjoy!! I would really appreciate feedback, reblogs are most appreciated!

In which your dying father struck a deal with Ward Cameron, he promised the family land in exchange for your safety. But protection comes with a price, and that price is Rafe Cameron.

word count: 5k

rafe cameron masterlist

After the funeral, you flopped down on the old leather couch in your living room, absently twirling a lock of your hair as you stared up at the cracked ceiling. Your black dress, meant for the sweltering summers, fell just below your knees. You’d paired it with a shawl you found tucked away in your mother’s dresser, a pretty, soft thing with little patterns you didn’t understand, but it smelled like her, so it felt right.

People at the funeral said you looked “so grown up” now, which filled you with a sense of pride. They said nothing about the dirt under your nails from wandering around the yard barefoot earlier that morning or the way your mascara smeared from crying too much. No one ever took you seriously anyway.

The quiet of the house was deafening, pressing in at you at all sides. The lack of his presence weighed on you. He’d built every corner of this house, your mother painted every wall, and you were grateful for the life they’d built you. Three bedrooms, a wrap-around porch where you’d once dreamed of watching your children play in the yard as you rocked in your chair, and the old, red barn that had weathered time alongside them. You knew you couldn’t lose it, but you weren’t sure how to keep it either.

A loud knock at the front door made the house shake and snapped you from your daze. It was not the knock of a kind neigbor delivering a sympathy caserole, the knock was firm and authoritative. You half expected the sheriff to be behind the door but instead found yourself staring back at Ward Cameron.

You pushed back the curls that had fallen into your face. He stood before you, tipping his finest black cattleman hat with deliberate grace, lifting it from his head and placing it over his chest in a quiet gesture of respect. His square jawline was sharp, his striking blue eyes unflinching, and though the gray streaks in his hair hinted at age, they only added to his rugged handomenss.

“Miss,” he greeted you smoothly, his voice as sharp as the crease in his shirt. He looked out of place here, too clean, too polished for the worn edges of your family’s ranch.

Your anxiety peaked, “Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You gripped the handle of the door tighter than you expected.

“I think you know why I’m here.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s time we talked about your father’s arrangements.”

Arrangements? You shifted nervously, trying to make sense of his words. You knew your dad had debts, but it wasn’t like he told you all the details. You knew that a significant amount of your father’s debt was to Ward. It humiliated your father to lease the Cameron’s grazing rights but he only did it to keep the ranch afloat. Money and paperwork were never your thing, and your dad always said not to worry about it. “I—I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. I’ll figure out how to pay you back, okay?”

Although Ward wasn’t the tallest man, most people towered over you, and as he leaned in the doorway, you knew he had your stature in mind.

Still, his smile was empty, “Why don’t we discuss this in your father’s office, hmm?”

“Um, no thanks,” you said quickly, shaking your head. But before you could shut the door, his hand pushed it open with way too much ease. You stumbled back, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as he walked in like he owned the place.

“Excuse me! You can’t just barge in here!” you squeaked, hurrying after him, his expensive boots, tapping against the creaking floor of your home.

He made his way down the downstairs hallway, barging into the room that not even your father wanted you to step in. Immediately as you stepping inside, a coldness touched you. he heavy oak desk sat like a monument to your father’s stubbornness, papers scattered across its surface in disarray. Just looking at it made your brain feel fuzzy. Ward moved behind it as if it were his own, his hands brushing against the chair’s worn leather.

“I offered to come speak to you, before all of this drama, but your father insisted I wait until he was gone,” Ward gestured to rickety chair that sat in front of the desk, “Sit.”

You ignored him, crossing your arms in stubborness, “What are you talking about?”

“Do you know how much exactly your father owes me? How much you’d be taking on?”

His words, like they had certainly intended to, made you feel stupid. Your father made sure you were uninvolved in the ranch’s finances and he had just passed this week, you hadn’t thought about entering his office and disturbing his things.

You blinked, your mouth opening and closing. “Well… um… I know he owed some money, but he didn’t really tell me how much.”

“It’s more than the farm is worth, Y/N.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between you, thickening the already suffocating air in the room. You clenched your jaw, refusing to show any sign of the panic tightening in your chest. The farm, your father’s legacy, your mother’s dreams, was supposed to be yours to save.

“That can’t be right,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “My father would’ve told me if it was that bad.”

“Would he? It’s nothing you should’ve worried your pretty head about,” Ward continued, his eyes sharp and assessing, “We parents try to protect our children. But he was too prideful. Pride doesn’t pay the bills and banks don’t wait forever.”

“The bank–”

“The bank would’ve taken the entire property if your father hadn’t already signed the land over to me.”

Your heart sunk into your stomach at Ward Cameron’s words. Your breath hitched as you stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said. You shook your head in disbelief, “He wouldn’t do that.”

The land was the only piece of your father that you had left. A hundred acres that your family and only a few ranch hands tended to.There were dwindling amounts of livestock, mounting debts, but it was your home. Humble in comparison to the Cameron’s thousands of acres but it belonged to your family. Even if you were the only one left.

“This all would’ve been easier for you if your father had explained all of this to you before. I think he was scared of you hating him.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ward’s expression didn’t falter. If anything, he looked almost bored with your responses, “We came to an agreement a year after his initial diagnosis. Instead of losing it to the bank, he would sign it over to me.”

“I promised to take care of you.” Ward’s words were slow, deliberate, as if he were explaining something to a child. “You’re unmarried, no prospects, and this place is a sinking ship. Someone was bound to take advantage of you eventually. You don’t have the resources to rebuild.”

“T-take care of me?” you stammered, your face scrunching in confusion.

“You’ll come live with my family for the time being. And eventually you will marry my son, Rafe.”

Your eyes went wild, “Are you crazy?”

Ward’s expression didn’t change. If anything, he looked even more smug. “This arrangement keeps the land in the family, ensures your safety, and gives you a future. You’re not equipped to handle this ranch on your own, Y/N. Your father knew that. I’m offering you a way out.”

You gaped at him, your thoughts spinning too fast to make sense of anything. “I… I want to talk to a lawyer or—or see his will or something!”

“You’re out of options. It’s either this arrangement or being out on the streets. I’m tossing you a lifeline.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” you said, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“No,” Ward admitted, standing and adjusting his cuffs. “But your father did. And a Cameron always honors their agreements.”

You wanted to scream, to tell him to leave and take his deal with him, but the weight of your father’s decisions pressed down on you. The debts, the ranch, your future—it was all tangled up in a web you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll give you until tomorrow to pack your things,” Ward said, placing his hat back on his head. “Rafe will come by to collect you.”

He turned and walked to the door without another word, leaving you standing alone in the office. The walls seemed to close in around you, and although you’d be crying for a week, you cried again.

You thought that if you weren’t at the house when Ward’s oldest son came to collect you, they might just give up and leave you be. Maybe you’d slip through the cracks of their plans, vanish into the quiet of the countryside. You could disappear for a little while and return in a few days. It would be rough surviving outside but you could make it on your own. You’d packed a small bag of essentials and took Juliet, the chestnut-colored mare that had belonged to you since your fourteenth birthday.

“Okay, Jules, we’re gonna go on a little adventure,” you whispered as you fumbled with her saddle.

Her large, liquid-brown eyes blinked at you with trust as you led her down the south path, the one behind your family’s ranch, overgrown from years of neglect. You left before the sun had a chance to rise. You didn’t want Ward Cameron or his scary son to find you, after all.

You tried to dress for comfort. Your long jeans would keep you warm, and you layered a jean jacket over a soft white cotton shirt. Perched atop your head was your trusty white cowboy hat, its wide brim offering protection from the sun, taming your unruly curls, while keeping your face shielded.

Juliet made a snorting sound, and you patted her neck. “Don’t worry, girl, we’ve totally got this. Like, what’s the worst that could happen?” You glanced back at the ranch, its dark outline fading behind the trees.

You mounted Juliet after deciding the direction you were going to travel in. You wanted to be much farther away by the time the sun came up. The air was cool and crisp, a reminder of the coming morning. You looked behind you although you were sure no one was following you yet.

The path twisted and turned. “Okay, so if we head toward the old fishing shack by the river, we can stay there for, like, a day. Nobody’s used it in forever.” You spoke out loud, pretending that Juliet could respond. “I think it’s... that way.”

You continued down the path in the direction you remembered the fishing shack to be located. The sun rose slowly, bringing light to the dark path. The shack was tucked away on the outskirts of the ranch, sitting in the bend of the river, most of it shielded by tall grass. The water flowed gently, the sound caressing your ears, it’s hues reflecting the red in the sky.

A clearing sat nearby covered in wildflowers, the bright colors splashed against the muted landscape. You hadn’t ventured this far out since the previous spring and were surprised to see how the flowers had held their vibrancy, defying the chill of the cooler months.

You hopped down from your saddle, taking Juliet’s rein before you tied her to a nearby tree, allowing her room to graze. The shack was small and weathered, and you rested on a rickety cot that you had to clear of cobwebs. It felt safe. At least for now.

If only staying still was your strong suit. A few hours later, boredom quickly got the best of you. You could only talk to Juliet for so long and you’d failed several times to nap inside the dirty shack. The silence pressed in on you. You decided to wander out into the wild flower fields, tugging your cowboy hat low over your curls. The vibrant colors were calling to you.

An hour later, you held a thick bundle flowers in your arm and a crown of daisies wrapped around your hat. Before you knew it, the shack was almost out of your sight and you faced a long trek back to Juliet.

You didn’t hear him at first.

“Hell of a hiding spot.”

The deep drawl froze you in place. Slowly, you turned, heart pounding, your eyes landing on Rafe Cameron sitting tall on his horse a few yards away. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, though the tight line of his jaw hinted at something darker.

Rafe’s quarter horse was even more intimidating. It’s coat was midnight black, sleek and imposing. There was a wild, untamed quality to him, a fire in his eyes that mirrored Rafe’s own.

“I… I was just…” You stepped back without thinking, the urge to drop your bouquet and bolt creeping up. You’d seen Ward’s son from across a room before, but no one had ever bothered to introduce you. Still, you knew enough from the whispers and rumors. He was wild, always getting into trouble with the Kildare County police, and everyone said he was gonna take over his dad’s power and influence one day.

He was older than you remembered, more rugged, and definitely more muscular. His black button-up shirt clung to broad shoulder and his sleeves rolled up to reveal sculpted arms. A baseball cap sat atop his head, the bill slightly bent, with the Cameron Ranch sigil stitched on the front—an emblem of a stallion rearing. His light brown hair peeked from beneath it, slightly tousled.

“You’ve been wandering around all morning. Half the town’s already seen you,” Rafe leaned forward slightly, eyeing you curiously, “If you were gonna run, thought you’d go a little bit farther.” You gained the courage to finish your sentence, “I wasn’t running …or hiding. And you can’t tell Mr. Cameron that.”

“Why do you think he sent me?” He smiled devishly, “I’m the one you gotta worry about, darlin’.”

Your lips parted in shock and Rafe watched you take another step back. His jaw clicked before he swiftly hopped down from his horse. His heavy boots hit the dirt with a thud that seemed to echo, and you couldn’t help but notice the sheer size of him. Though he wasn’t much older than you, it was clear he towered over you, his presence demanding attention in a way that made your knees feel weak.

“I’m not coming with you,” You stated with all the strength you could muster, “It’s not right. You can’t make me.”

He stared back at you. Where Ward was bored by conversation with you, something about your Ward’s made Rafe’s eyes fiery, “And I guess you’ll make your living by what … selling flower crowns?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You hadn’t considered that an option. In fact, you hadn’t dwelled long enough on what you would do once Ward gave up on this arranged marriage nor did you have any idea of how to make the ranch profitable again. The idea seemed wrong. Flowers weren’t the key, were they?

“I’m kidding,” Rafe spoke again after a moment of watching you reflect, “That’s a bad fucking idea. You know…I think your father might’ve been right about one thing in his life. You do need someone to look after you.”

“You don’t know me,” You looked away, your face heating up with embarrassment, “And I don’t want to go with you.”

A yelp escaped your lips as he started to close the distance between you, his long strides closing the gap in a matter of seconds. His smirk widened at your reaction, and quickly, you dropped your bouquet and made a run for the fishing shack. Rough hands easily snatched you up by your waist, lifting your feet off the ground, and making your head spin, “You’re real cute, darlin’,” Rafe drawled, hardly breakin a sweat as he dragged you back towards his horse. His grip on your waist was firm, unrelenting, and no matter how much you kicked or squirmed, it didn’t matter. He only hoisted you higher.

Heavy boots crunched against the dirt. You could hear your breathing and the sharp pounding of your heart in your ears. You lost your hat and subsequently your flower crown in the struggle. Scared that you might spook Rafe’s horse, you found yourself succumbing to his force, letting him lift you onto the saddle.

“Please, let me down,” You whispered, tears beginning to fall. Rafe was next, hoisting himself onto the black stallion, squeezing himself behind you. You were pressed against him so much that you could feel the flexing of the muscles of his stomach. An arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

Rafe shushed you, and surprisingly, you felt him settle your hat back on your head. You hadn’t even seen him pick it up. You were never supposed to ride without a hat, that’s what your father had taught you. You barely had time to process it before he urged the horse forward, the powerful animal's hooves pounding the earth beneath you as Rafe held you tightly, “M-My horse, Juliet!” You remembered, panicked, “I won’t go without her, Rafe!”

“I didn’t forget your horse,” He spoke calmer than you expected, though his tone still had an edge to it, “She’ll follow. Unlike you, she seems to have a decent amount of common sense.”

He kicked the horse into a gallop, the powerful animal responding instantly, the sound of its hooves hitting the ground like thunder in the otherwise still air. The wind whipped through your hair, stinging your face. You gripped the saddle tightly, to anchor yourself, despite knowing that Rafe’s grip was strong enough to keep you from flying.

This wasn’t the escape you wanted. Not even close.

Sure, he’d heard the rumors that you were a little …daft. And maybe that was true in some ways, but you were more than he had anticipated. He followed you, watched as you handled the horse with ease, and found himself intrigued. Your confusion, innocence, even your stubbornness drew him in like a moth to a flame.

The last thing Rafe wanted was a wife. He resisted the way his father felt like he could stll make decisions for him. Rafe was losing with this arrangement. Your father’s hundred acres was nothing in comparison to what he family already had and would acquire. But perhaps his father had seen exactly what Rafe was seeing now. You were raw, so unpolished, and that meant you could be shaped.

Once you were under the Cameron’s roof, Rafe had the power to do whatever he wanted.

Proving himself to Ward was a constant battle, every choice scrutinized, every misstep noted. To run the ranch one day, Rafe needed to show he could manage it all, the land, business, and now a wife. Building a home and keeping you in line was just another test.

That morning, Rafe had never expected to chase after you on horseback. He had arrived in his truck, scouring the house for any sign of you, only to realize you were already gone. In frustration, he called John B., one of the Cameron ranch hands, and sent him to bring Trigger, his horse, to the Y/L/N ranch.

When you both returned, John B. was already there, waiting. Thunder cracked above, a sunny morning turning into a dreary afternoon. Rafe barked orders to ensure Juliet and Trigger were both stabled at the Cameron’s ranch.

He lifted you down from the saddle, his grip firm on your wrists before you could bolt. It only took a second for him to realize the urgency in your voice as you spoke, trying to talk to John B., who was already taking Juliet and Trigger’s reins. “She gets nervous when she’s in new places. She doesn’t like to be rushed,” Rafe overheard, catching the panic in your tone.

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow with her,” John B. assured her although Rafe only glared at the worker, jaw tight.

“Come on,” Rafe pulled your arm, “We’re leaving.”

Your small hands grabbed where he’d wrapped his hands around your arm. You dug your boots into the gravel in front of the house, “Wait, I don’t have everything. I-I need to grab some things,” Rafe’s gripped only tightened as his irritation grew.

“You should’ve thought about that before you made me chase after you,” He took one more look at your teary-face before he snapped. Taking you home should’ve taken thirty minutes, not four hours. Without warning, he scooped you up over his shoulder, ignoring the surprised gasp you let out.

Your legs kicked in the air, “Hey! Please put me down!” Rafe didn’t spare your house on John B. a second glance as he trudged over to his dark, blue truck. Please, that made Rafe brow furrow. Rafe took the opportunity to cop a feel, of course, he had to know exactly what he was working with. You were his future wife, after all, “Rafe! I don’t like being upside down!”

“Scream all the way there for all I fucking care,” He muttered under his breath, his voice cold as he finally reached the truck and tossed you into the passenger seat.

Rafe sped off moments after he pressed start engine on the vehicle. You went quiet and he hoped to be alone with his thoughts, soothed by the soft pitter patter of rain on his windshield. Fifteen minutes down the road, he heard your breath hitch. He looked over to see you were staring straight head, eyes wide and wet with tears. Smudged mascara beneath your eyes. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and you clutched your hands tightly in your lap. Your lips were shaking, moving as if you were whispering something to yourself.

Your legs began to jitter, restless, and Rafe looked away. He managed to tune out your obvious panic for nearly an entire minute. He had a rare feeling. One he didn’t fully understanding. The angel on his shoulder was telling him to reach out, to try and comfort you. He thought about what Wheezie might think if this was the disheveled state he brought his future wife to meet her in. He let out a quiet sigh, knowing it was only going to get worse as the reality of your situation set in.

“Hey,” He spoke without that sharp edge, channeling a voice he might use with his youngest sister, “I didn’t mean you’d never get your things. We can come back, when you’re more settled …And I’ll send someone to get all your keepsakes. Okay?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” You repeated though your voice sounded empty, “Okay.”

He thought those would be the magic words but you hadn’t even turned to look at him. You were doing the same thing, shaking like a leaf, barely taking in enough breath, “Fuck,” Rafe cursed. He pulled over to the side of the road with a sharp jerk, the gravel crunching under the tires as the truck slowed to a stop. Without thinking, he shifted into park and turned to you.

Rafe needed to be more deliberate in his actions. He had eyes on him, his entire immediate family, and he wouldn’t have them thinking he couldn’t handle you.

He tried to calm you, squeezed your hand, told you to breathe over and over again. Nothing. You were spiraling, letting your thoughts consume you. Rafe had been too rough. It was all too much too fast for you. He wanted to mold you, not break you.

He leaned in, taking your face in his hands, and pressing his lips to yours. You went frantic but he only deepened the kiss. He held your hand and slowly felt your tension lesson. He entwined his fingers in yours and slowly felt you move your own lips against his. You tasted like cherries, dark red, and perfectly ripe. His hands moved to the back of your neck, his fingers pressing lightly, urging you to focus, to let go of the panic.

He pulled away only when you stopped your heaving.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’re okay now. Breathe with me.”

He waited for you to come back to him, cradling you there. You had no one left, Rafe realized in that moment, the truth settling heavily in his chest. And maybe that was why he couldn’t bring himself to be cruel.

No, taking care of you wasn’t just an obligation, it was an important responsibility. One he’d shoulder completely. Whether you liked it or not, Rafe would make sure of it.

Rafe Cameron tasted like whiskey, with a faint hint of mint that lingered now even as you stood in the foyer of your new home, Tannyhill Ranch. The white house was sprawling and pristine, situated amidst of sea of green fields. Windows sparkled even in the storm that was coming down, and although the roof’s shingles were weathered, it was hard to believe the property had been there for more than a century.

Workers, chefs and maids, bustled by but no one spared you or Rafe a glance despite the dry tears on your face and disheveled appearance.

The interior was grand, the hardwoods polished until they shined, and the ceilings were higher than the ones at church. Everything screamed old money. You felt a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the grand entrance hall and then up one side of a grand staircase. Portraits line the walls, serious faces, Camerons and previous owners of the estate.

Their eyes watched you, “Rafe, where are we going?” You asked him quietly.

Rafe led you down the upstairs hallway, stopping at one of at least six bedroom doors, and pushing it open. The room was breathtaking, a four-poster bed draaped in white linens, oak furniture, blue-white toile patterns, and large windows that overlooked the property. It was beautiful, yes, but none of this belonged to you.

Your fingers absentmidnely traced the fabric of the bed’s comforter before you got a grip, turning around to say something in protest, “Don’t look at me like that,” Rafe interrupted, hands tucking into the front of jeans as if to give off a non-chalant appearance. The position emphasized the silvery belt buckle that sat on the middle of his waist.

“I don’t want to live here,” You spoke softly, your voice still weak from all the crying.

“I know,” Rafe continued, sounding exactly like his father, “Your father did though. You still love your Daddy, don’t you?”

Rafe’s words made you think. Really think. Of course you loved your father. He was a smart man and he always did right by you and your Mother. However, deep down, this all still felt wrong. You stood there, caught between the beauty of the room and the unease of what you felt.

You nodded, “But–”

“But this is what he wanted, darlin’,” Rafe spoke in a way that carried a sense of finality. Rafe stepped closer and suddenly his body was a brick wall keeping you from leaving the room. His lips pulled into a smirk and he leaned down to speak in your ear, his breath fanning over your cheeks. Whiskey and mint, “You always did what your Daddy said, right?”

“Yes,” You answered too honestly for your own good.

“Now you’ll do what I say. That’s how it works. A young lady belongs to her father, and one day, after she grows up, she belongs to her husband,” He straightened up and you blinked your big eyes up at him. Slowly, your eyes traveled down to his lips, “You’ll thank me, one day.”

Gently, he tucked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it even higher. You held your head exactly in the place he placed it, making something flicker in Rafe’s eyes. A heat bloomed in your core. You could only think about that kiss, your first one, despite the fact that he was one of the men completely ruining your life.

“You ever seen someone break a wild horse?”

His question caught you off guard, and your brows furrowed slightly as you searched his face for meaning. The smirk on his lips deepened, and his hand dropped from your chin.

“Takes patience. Takes strength. Takes knowing exactly when to push and when to pull back. But eventually, the horse figures out who’s in charge.” His blue eyes darkened, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place, ”Out on the ranch, when we get a wild one. It’s my favorite thing to do. Watch em’ go from fighting you to starting to trust you. Really, there’s no point in fighting. The one’s who don’t submit, we don’t keep em’ around. They’re dangerous.”

“Oh,” You managed to say, shifting uncomfortably, “That sounds … hard.”

Rafe chuckled in response, “Hard? Yeah, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Rafe’s smirk returned, sharper now, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You want me to kiss you again. I can tell.”

His words sent you stammering immediately, “No!”

“Tell you what,” Rafe interrupted smoothly, ignoring your denial as if it hadn’t even registered. “If you settle in, get all dolled up for dinner…” His voice dripped with false generosity. “I’ll give you another one.”

Reblog and let me know your thoughts to be added to the taglist!

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ntwhlvndthnks · 2 years ago

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silly lil post but looking at these two arts of the dndads s2 cover art (by alex moore if ya did not know) and i noticed small little changes, such as lincoln having a green jacket in the 1st one with a red shirt and how different nick looks in the dice 🤓🕵🏾

#just wanted to share lol #and how much more red the 1st one is compared to the second one #IDK but i thought it was cool ok 😓#ANYWAYS shout out to alex moore #they've done GREAT art for dndads #dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads s2

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oddeyevibes · 3 years ago

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Chapter 1 - We Only See Each Other At Weddings and Funerals

Summary

30 years ago, a woman named Deidre went into an unexpected labor and promptly gave the baby up. 30 years later, that baby is celebrating the death of the asshole that adopted her.

Warnings? Click here

On the 12th hour of October 1st, 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women were pregnant when the day first began.

Crown Heights, New York

October 1st, 1989

11:30ish

A young woman in her mid to late twenties sat next to the window of the Caribbean restaurant she frequented. The restaurant’s logo was on the window, blocking her face from the view of any passerby. She sat there patiently waiting for her order of Macaroni Pie with a side of fried rice. The same thing she always ordered.

The shouting of the staff and the music filling providing ambiance was nothing compared to the other world she was drowning herself in through the novel The Queen of The Damned. It was Anne Rice’s most recent work in her Vampire series, detailing the melancholic misadventures of several vampires as they contemplated the meaning behind their eternal existence.

“Deidre!”

A voice called out to her.

The woman--Deidre--looked up from her book to see one of the waitresses with her order, placing the styrofoam container in front of her.

“Thank you.” Deidre said softly.

The waitress nodded with a soft smile before leaving to tend to other customers. Deidre closed her book, leaving a corner of the page bent so she can find her spot later. She smiled down at her food, after a long day at work, she deserved this. She was never one to deny herself a little self-care.

Deidre took one bite and then she started to feel…weird.

There was a pain in her stomach and the intensity just kept building more and more. She looked down to see a sight she wasn’t prepared for, nor was anyone else in the restaurant when they turned to the screaming woman and watched as her stomach grew larger and larger.

It was like witnessing an accelerated pregnancy. Then her water broke. Everyone scrambled to get her comfortable and prepare for the birth of this…miracle child that grew in the span of like 10 seconds. Spare table cloths were used as blankets to wrap the bundle of confusion as she came into the world screaming. The anxieties were only made worse by the lights flickering in the store.

For all it was worth, the baby was healthy in every way. Of course, the news stations flocked to see their local miracle baby. 42 other babies around the world had been born on the same day in similar circumstances.

Of course, it was made even weirder when an old man with a monocle came to the apartment complex looking for the baby.

And there the baby was, swaddled in a soft faded red blanket. Deidre got nervous as the man leaned in closer to inspect the baby.

“A-Are you with the government?”

The man stood up straight. “Heavens no!” he proclaimed. “The child? How much do you want for it?”

“What?!”

“How much? I’m willing to pay whatever amount you wish for the child.”

Deidre looked down at the baby before looking up at the man. She sat there silently for a bit before she spoke again. “Any amount?”

Thus, that child was the 8th baby adopted by Sir Reginald Hargreeves and brought to the Umbrella Academy. When all the children’s powers began truly manifesting, The baby became the most useful to a team unit, being able to heal others with light.

Even though they were all the same age, Number 8 was looked at as the youngest because of her demeanor. To keep it simple, she was a crybaby. One that easily led with a few choice words and harsh stares. It was both a blessing and a curse.

She was later named by their “mom” to be Y/N Hargreeves. Then 17 years later, after the death of Ben, Y/N Hargreeves was the first to leave the academy. In the dead of night, when most everyone slept, she went to her and Ben’s special room and climbed out through the window and was never seen again.

The designated “baby” and healer was the first pillar to fall and soon after, all the others did too.

———✨————

30 years later

Club Galerie

“Well, that was certainly a show you put on, Y/N.” Mother Hera sashayed in your direction as you leaned against the bar, still in your performance attire…sort of.

“What can I say? I was born to dazzle~” You added a bit of flair as you flashed some jazz hands, white light softly emitting from your fingertips.

She chuckled as she patted you on the back. “I thought I told you not to take gift shots anymore?”

“Who am I to deny the people?” You slurred.

“Well, make sure you count your tips for the night before you pass out, sweetie, hmm?”

“Yesssss…mother~”

Hera shook her head with a smile as she walked behind the bar, flicking on the small television. The sudden bright light in a sea of dim had no issue catching your attention as you squinted at the screen.

The words “breaking news” plastered on the screen as a news anchor announced the death of eccentric and reclusive billionaire, Sir Reginald Hargreeves….your dear old dad.

You scoffed. “Holy shit…the bastard finally croaked.”

Hera crossed her arms. “Hmm…how you feeling?”

You were silent. “...I dunno…”

News like this should’ve had you through the roof. You’ve always hated him for how he treated you and the others. Of course, you had heard that the others eventually left the academy minus Luther but that didn’t surprise you.

So why didn’t it feel…good?

Why didn’t something in you feel fulfilled?

The bane of your existence was dead and you didn’t even feel a flutter happening in your soul.

“The fuck is up with that?” You muttered.

“Is there gonna be a funeral? Need some company?”

“Nah, with my siblings, it’ll be awkward as hell for an outsider to be in between that. ‘Specially if a fight breaks out.”

“That happen often?”

“Oh yeah. Mostly between Luther and Diego. No, I should go alone. Someone’s gotta be the first piss on the old man’s grave and I’ll be damned if it isn’t me.”

Mother Hera giggled. She remembers when she first met you. At first, it was here and there. Seeing you sneak into some of the clubs to watch the performers. You had such good etiquette too. Knew to tip them well during their numbers by watching everyone else do so.

Then, she started seeing you more and more. It hit her that you might be homeless, so she offered you a home. Ended up teaching you everything you know now. You never knew how much you needed a parental figure like her.

None of your other siblings would probably believe the amount of progress you made with your powers and their evolution. Hera had a different approach than your dad.

Of course, she didn’t know much about being one of the miracle children but she figured the same approach to parenting would work, and it did.

Now your “new and improved and untraumatized” self would be reuniting with your siblings. Well, minus Klaus who you had already been in frequent communication with AKA you bailed him out of jail, picked him up from rehab, and gave him a place to crash every so often.

Vanya, you called every few months to check on her but nothing more. Everyone else? Nah.

“Hera, I'm gonna be on leave for a bit.”

Mother nodded as she watched you sway out of the bar. She let out a heavy exhale. “Lord, that child needs all the help she can get.”

——✨——

“The world is a cruel place, Number 8! Filled with cruel people! And none of them will care that you’re a wailing child!”

——✨——

You were jolted awake by the cab’s sudden stop. Peering out of the window at the extravagant entrance to the academy. You were so smug about the idea of strutting back in there but now?

Nothing but dread as you stepped out of the vehicle.

“My darling~ Glowbug!”

You smirked, looking over to see Klaus in his usual eccentric attire with his usual walk like the ground was nothing but a seesaw.

Number 4 wasted no time in throwing his arms around you. Surprisingly, he didn’t smell too much like liquor but that was probably because he was intoxicated on something else.

“Klaus, please tell me why the rehab let you out?”

Flashing his signature smile, “I’m drug-free, babe. I was given a second chance at freedom.”

“Second chance? Klaus!” You tilted your head to the side in disbelief.

Klaus frowned. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What have you been on since you’ve been out?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips.

“Everything!” Klaus heard Ben yell.

“Nothing!” He responded, immediately turning around to hush his dead brother which earned an eyebrow raise from you.

“Are you still…talking to Ben?”

The spirit waved in your direction despite knowing you didn’t see him. “Tell her I said hi.”

“No!” He glanced back at Ben and flipped him off. “Just some annoying sidewalk spirit.”

“How’s the club? I miss mother~”

“Mother does not miss you or your unpaid tab.” You told him, walking through the doors with him trailing behind you.

Stepping back into the main hall was like stepping through a time machine. It didn’t seem like a single thing changed since you left all those years ago.

“It’s like…looking at an old picture.” Klaus mused. “Feels weird being in here and not hearing dad yell at us.”

You softly laughed. “I know, right?”

Like clockwork, you ascended the stairs and walked to your favorite spot, Mom’s gallery. A smile formed as you remember the days of just sitting there with mom. Quietly enjoying each other’s company.

She would be cross-stitching and you’d be trying to replicate the paintings on the wall, especially the woman she admired so much. If there’s any good that came out of this place, it’s that mom helped you find your calling.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Luther standing there with a stunned expression. It wasn’t all that surprising that he seemed to have gotten bigger.

“Hey, bro. Long time no see.” You smirked in his direction.

“Y-yeah, it’s been…awhile. Wow, you look…”

You giggled. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been experimenting with my look, like it?”

He was silent for a moment. “Yeah, it suits you.”

The two of you stood there in silence.

“Is anyone else here?” You asked.

“Just Diego.”

“Oh yeah? And how’s our little *he-rago?”

“Still Diego.”

Luther came closer. “It’s really nice to see you again.” You backed up a bit. Why did you feel weird?

“Yeah…nice to see you too.”

He gave a curt nod before walking past you.

“Oh! Klaus is also somewhere here.”

Luther was about to say something but stopped himself, seemingly already exhausted with the idea of running into him before he continued downstairs.

“Jesus, you too?” A voice spoke to you in a cold tone. “First Vanya, now you?”

It was none other than Diego, decked out in black tactical gear. You scoffed.

“What bank are you about to rob?”

“Why did you even come back here?” He was not amused by your comment. “You were the first of us to leave.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Diego. Thought you’d be happy to see me. After all our last words to each other—well…your last words to me were pretty harsh.”

“So harsh you couldn’t handle it and ran away.”

“Running away is so negative, I prefer pursuing greener pastures than letting that old fart sacrifice me like a goat.” Your words were laced with such hatred that it made Diego a tiny bit proud.

“So why are you here?”

You shrugged. “I figured we were all gonna piss on his grave…and I call first dibs.”

With that, Diego brushed past you and continued downstairs to the house. So far, reuniting with Luther felt weird but Diego felt just right.

When Ben died, Diego blamed you in a fit of grief for letting him die. You remember getting so pissed that you blew out his bedroom lights, leaving your mother to replace them.

Luther wasn’t as antagonistic towards you but you always despised how he chased after your dad’s approval even at the expense of everyone else’s well-being.

Maybe you were feeling empty that Luther wasn’t more pissed off at you? Maybe a part of you was itching to tell him off?

With a moment of quiet, you sat down on the ottoman mom always reserved for you. You’re surprised that your father didn’t order her to put it away. Maybe she waited for you, hoping that you’d change your mind and come back home, back to your chair.

You laughed to yourself. ‘That’s a stupid thought.’

“Y/N…it’s good to see you.” An English-accented voice spoke to you. It was Pogo, your father’s right hand. “It’s been so long.”

You flashed a weak smile. “Hey Pogo.”

He calmly approached you with the assistance of his cane. “I was unsure if you would come.”

You were silent for a moment before leaning back against the railing that the ottoman was pressed up against.

“Yeah well…your shitty dad only dies once…gotta bask in it while you can.”

Pogo sighed. He wasn’t surprised that even you were relieved and enjoying this in some way. Not that he could blame you or your siblings after the way Sir Hargreeves raised you.

“You were still so young when you left. Did you have any hard times?”

“Homeless for a little bit…” That answer hurt his soul. “Then Mother Hera took me in. She’s good people.”

Pogo nodded. “I’m glad to hear that everything worked out for you. I wonder, are you still pursuing art?”

“Yep. Once mom opened that can of worms, there was no stopping me. I’m a cabaret performer. Who knew I shine on stage with a little bit of…razzle-dazzle.” Again, your fingertips lit up.

Safe to say, it was your favorite little party trick. Normal humans ate it up every time.

“That’s good to hear that you found something you can be passionate about. Being a superhero…was always a rough life for you.”

A pair of footsteps were heard ascending the staircase. “Y/N?” You heard. You already knew it was Allison.

You turned to face your sister. She seemed shocked but also happy to see you standing there.

“You actually came?”

You didn’t even give her a chance to continue before harshly brushing past her and heading downstairs. “Later Pogo.”

——✨——

Luther had called a meeting in the lobby. You stood before Five’s portrait as you waited for everyone to file in. Each sibling took a seat while Klaus played in the bar.

“Um…I guess we should get started.” Luther spoke as he stood up. “So I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at dad’s favorite spot?”

You snarked. “Where? in hell?”

Allison looked at Luther in confusion. “Dad had a favorite spot?”

Luther nodded. “You know, under the oak tree.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the big man continued.

“We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?”

Klaus sauntered over with a glass in his hand. “Will there be refreshments? Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.”

“What? No. And put that out. Dad didn’t allow smoking in here.”

“What’s he gonna do? Rise from the grave to put it out?”

“Is that my skirt?” Allison asked Klaus, this caused you to finally turn to face everyone.

Klaus was, indeed, wearing a skirt.

“What? Oh, yeah, this. I found it in your room. It’s a little dated, I know,” he stood in the center of the room to lazily pose. “but it’s very breathey on the bits.” He joked.

“Listen up.” Everyone’s attention turned back to Luther. “Still some important things that we need to discuss, all right?”

Diego spoke up finally. “Like what?”

“Like the way he died.”

“And here we go.” Diego smirked in disbelief.

You sighed. “Luther, the elderly die from heart attacks every day, dad’s not special.”

Vanya nodded in your direction. “Are you saying it wasn’t a heart attack?”

“According to the coroner, it was.” Luther answered.

Vanya shrugged. “They would know, right?”

“Theoretically.”

“Theoretically?” Allison asked like she wasn’t believing what Luther was suggesting either.

You rolled your eyes. This was the aspect of Luther you hated. Always wanting to do a mile when your dad only wanted an inch.

“I’m just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time I talked to dad, he sounded strange.”

“Oh, quelle surprise!” Klaus gurgled, earning a look of disgust as you went over and lightly hit him in the arm before sitting next to him.

“Don’t be gross.” You muttered to him.

“Strange how?” Allison questioned.

“He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust.”

“Luther,” Diego stood up from his seat. “he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles.”

“Bold of you to assume he had any to begin with Diego.”

“No. He must have known something was going to happen.” He turned to Klaus. “Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to dad.”

Allison scoffed while you let out a loud exhale. Klaus groaned.

“I can’t just call dad in the afterlife and be like, “Dad, could you just…stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?”

You chuckled.

“Since when? That’s your thing.”

“Not when he's in a bad state of mind…” you let out.

“You’re high?”

Klaus didn’t even try to deny it. “Yeah! Yeah! I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense?”

“Well, sober up, this is important.”

You crossed your arms. “That’s now how drugs work, Luther.”

Klaus gestured in your direction, agreeing with you.

“Whatever, there’s also the issue of the missing monocle.”

Diego rolled his eyes. “Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?”

“Exactly.” Luther turned to Diego. “It’s worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal.” He started looking at everyone around the room. “Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Oh, isn’t it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed dad.”

A wave of silence filled the room as everyone’s look of realization aimed at Luther, gradually replaced with a look of offense and shock.

“You do?”

There was more silence until you spoke up. “Pretty big claim coming from the one who never left dear old daddy’s side.”

“How could you think that?” Vanya was stunned.

Luther, being put in a negative spotlight, looked like he tried to find the right words.

Diego mocked him as he left. “Great job, Luther. Way to lead.”

Luther’s words were coming out broken. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

Klaus was the next to get up. “You’re crazy, man. You’re crazy. Crazy.”

“I’m not finished.” He tried to be stern with his words but that failed.

“Ok well sorry, I’m just gonna go murder mom. Be right back”

You and Vanya stood up, leaving the room together.

“That’s not what I was saying. I didn’t…”

Finally, Allison stood up and began walking out.

“Allison…”

He stood there alone. “That went well.”

——✨——

At first, you wanted to head right back to mom’s space but instead decided to a special place that you remembered vividly even after all these years.

You and Ben’s special place. Whenever the both of you wanted to just get away from everyone else. You always snuck off here. You stumbled upon it first. It was halfway painted, almost like it was meant to be another room for more students but it had long been abandoned since your father was only able to get eight of you, seven if you discount Vanya having no powers.

You and Ben didn’t even have to have long-winded conversations. You simply enjoyed each other’s company. He sat in a corner reading while you occupied yourself with doodling on the walls.

Sometimes you drew childish stuff like daisies and simple fairies, other times you created something so detailed and beautiful that Ben simply HAD to put down whatever he was reading and take it in.

Your fingers brushed against the wall of art as you strolled past. Finally, stopping at one specific drawing. It was a drawing of 8 crows sitting on a long branch.

“One crow for each of us?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Even Vanya?”

You nodded.

“Wouldn’t it make sense for us to be…umbrellas?”

You childishly shook your head. “I don’t wanna be an umbrella. I like crows.” You continued filling in the color on one of the birds.

“Did you know a group of crows is called a Murder?”

“Really? Why? That sounds scary.”

“It’s because if you see a lot of crows in one place, it’s an omen of death. A lot of people are scared of them. Crows aren’t bad though. They’re smart. You know, they can remember human faces.”

You perked up at that fact. “Really?”

Ben smiled. “Yeah. They’re a part of the corvid family, they’re related to ravens. Also…crows are the symbol of a Celtic goddess called The Morrigan.”

“Did you read that from the library?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You should bring it next time.”

You smiled to yourself. You really did not want to do this to yourself but you never really had anything to remember Ben by. The nightmares that plagued you for 13 years.

Being in this room, it felt like a shell was dissolving from around you.

“Ben, I’m so sorry.” You spoke softly. “I should’ve been stronger. You only died cause I was holding you back. I was weak. It…it should’ve been me. You should’ve been the one to finally leave this place.”

Your forehead softly clunked against the drawing as tears began to flow.

Suddenly, you heard music playing. Even through the muffling of the walls, you heard it clearly.

You sighed. “Seriously?” You were unable to suppress the laugh that came out of you.

~Children behave~

You backed away from the wall, awkwardly swaying to the music as you closed your eyes and only focused on the sound. There was no pressure of performance like at the club.

And watch how you play

They don’t understand and so we’re running just as fast as we can

Holdin on to one another’s hand

You spun around the room like you listening to Stevie Nicks, lip-syncing perfectly to the song and having your music video moment in your head as you grooved your way towards the room door, exiting into the hallway with a skip over the threshold.

Tryin to get away, into the night

And then you put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground and then you say

I think we’re alone now

The hallway was completely yours. You were like a whimsical fairy, shuffling through the hall. Your facial expression matched the intensity of the song as you mouthed along with the words before you began strutting along the corridor.

There doesn’t seem to be anyone around

I think we’re alone now

The beating of our hearts is the only sound

When the drum synth came in, you started imitating a drummer’s movement, banging against the air on beat.

Look at the way

We gotta hide what we’re doin’

Cause what would they say

If they ever knew and so we’re running just as fast as we can

Holdin’ on to one another’s hand

Trying to get away into the night and then you put your arms around me

And we tumble to the ground and then you say

I think we’re alone now

Another spin that might’ve been too soon as you stumbled, catching yourself before easing back into the groove into the song with a run into a sloppy jete.

There doesn’t seem to be anyone around

I think we’re alone now

The beating of our hearts is the only sound

I think we’re alone now

There doesn’t seem to be anyone around

I think we’re alone now

The beating of our hearts is the only sound

*THUNDER CRASH*

The vibes immediately got put on hold as a crash of thunder caught you off guard with a mixture of heavy wind that started rattling the closed windows.

——✨——

All of you ran out into the courtyard to face a shocking sight. A blue ripple in the sky.

“Holy shit!”

“What is it?”

“Don’t get too close!”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly….either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two.” Luther suggested.

“Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan.”

Suddenly, you were pushed aside as Klaus ran in front of you all clutching a fire extinguisher. “Out of the way!” He aimed and fired at the ripple before just chucking it.

“Really Klaus?”

“I don’t know. Do you have a better idea?”

Something started forming inside of the ripple causing Luther to push everyone behind him with Diego moving forward beside him.

“Get behind me!”

“Yeah, get behind us!”

“I vote for running!”

All of you watched as an old man appeared stuck in a screaming state. Only made weirder when his body began changing in front of you to that of…

“Five?”

“What?” Allison glanced at you before looking back.

The man…boy fell and the ripple closed. You all inched closer as the boy stood and confirmed what you thought. It was Five. The brother that vanished years ago…and he hasn’t even aged a day.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five or is that just me?”

You shook your head. “No…I see him too.”

Five looked down at himself before looking back up at all of you. “Shit!”

——✨——

All of you stood in the kitchen as you watched in awe as Five moved around making himself something to eat.

“What’s the date? The exact date.”

“The 24th.” Vanya replied.

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

“So are we gonna talk about what just happened?”

Five didn’t reply, pissing Luther off as he stood.

“It’s been 17 years.”

The smartass scoffed. “It’s been a lot longer than that.” He inched forward blinking past Luther.

“I haven’t missed that.”

It was Diego’s turn. “Where’d you go?”

“The future. It’s shit, by the way.”

Klaus perked up. “Called it!”

“I should’ve listened to the old man. Y’know, jumping through space is one thing. Jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” He finally looked up at everyone, specifically Klaus. “Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, danke!”

Vanya started questioning him next. “Wait, how did you get back?”

“In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.”

You were at a loss for words. “I didn’t retain any of that.”

“Cause that makes no sense.” Diego chimed in.

“Well, it would if you were smarter.” Five shot back.

Diego quickly stood up but was held back by Luther.

“How long were you there?”

“45 years. Give or take.”

Everyone inched in closer when Five replied.

“So what are you saying?” Klaus started. “That you’re 58?”

“Wow, you don’t look a day over a day over 13. What’s your secret?”

“Y/N, I don’t remember you being such a smartass. My consciousness is 58. Apparently, my body is now 13 again.”

Vanya was lost. “How does that even work?”

“Delores kept saying the equations were off. Eh. Bet she’s laughing now.”

“Delores?”

Five ignored the question and picked up the newspaper with their dad’s death on the front page. “Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How did you know about that?”

“What part of the future do you not understand? Heart failure, huh?”

Both Diego and Luther answered at the same time.

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Hmm. Nice to see nothing’s changed.” The fifth Hargreeves then left the kitchen as Allison called after him.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“The circle of life.” He yelled back.

“Well…”

“Nice to see he’s still the same 17 years later.”

——✨——

You had all finally gathered outside in the courtyard. Rain was already pouring as you all were covered by black umbrellas, aside from Klaus and Luther.

The former going with a see-through Umbrella with a fuzzy pink rim and the latter opting to just take the rain as is.

Mom observed all of your sorrowful faces before speaking up. “Did something happen?”

“Dad died. Remember?”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” The expression she made as she was reminded stung.

“Is mom ok?”

Diego wasted no time in answering “Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. She just needs to rest. You know, recharge.”

Pogo came forward, looking up at Luther and giving him the go-ahead. Everyone watched in silence as Luther opened dad’s urn and poured the ashes onto the ground. It was as disappointing as watching a balloon deflate.

“Probably would’ve been better with some wind.”

“Does anyone wish to speak?”

No answer.

“Very well. In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master…and my friend…and I shall miss him very much.”

Everyone soaked in Pogo’s speech before he continued on.

“He leaves behind a complicated legacy—”

You scoffed and Diego had finally had it.

“He was a monster.”

Klaus chuckled.

“He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego.” Allison snapped, taking Luther’s feelings into consideration but also didn’t appreciate Diego’s desire to start trouble.

“My name is Number Two. You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had mom do it.”

Almost on cue, mom spoke up. “Would anyone like something to eat?”

“No, it’s ok mom.” Vanya answered.

“Oh, okay.”

“Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead.” Diego stepped out from the lineup, looking back at the rest of you. “But at least be honest about the kind of man he was.”

“You should stop talking now.” Luther warned.

“You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One.”

“I am warning you.”

“After everything he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away.”

“Diego, stop talking.”

This was the anger and rage you had wanted to flaunt when you came back here. And yet, in the presence of Diego and Luther about to get into it, there was a part of you that felt uncomfortable. A part that wanted to shrink away.

You should be agreeing with Diego. Diego was mad at you though. As much as he agreed with how you felt about your father, he was still pissed that you left.

“That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!”

All hell broke loose as Luther pushed Diego back and swung. The latter ducking just in time. Everyone instantly backed away as Pogo urged the two to stop.

Diego just kept egging him on and on to try and hit him. Vanya pleaded with them to stop but to no avail meanwhile, Klaus had no issue with cheering for the fight.

Pogo shook his head and simply walked off as the scuffle continued.

You rolled your eyes. “Are you guys serious right now?” You spoke under your breath.

“We don’t have time for this.” Five walked off back into the house.

Finally, Luther charged forth towards Diego but the vigilante ducked out of the way, causing Luther’s fist to collide with Ben’s statue, knocking it over and causing the head to break off.

“And there goes Ben’s statue.”

With Luther distracted, Diego pulled out one of his knives. When Vanya noticed she shouted at him.

“Diego no!”

He flung the knife and watched as it sliced through Luther’s coat sleeve, slicing some of his flesh. That’s when the fight halted as Luther was too focused on the cut and stumbled inside, catching Diego off guard.

Vanya approached Diego. “You never know when to stop, do you?”

“…You got enough material for your sequel yet?”

“…He was my father too.”

Diego waited until Vanya went inside to go and get mom to bring her in. Leaving just you and Klaus. You were stuck staring at Ben’s fallen statue. Something to commemorate ruined because of your brothers’ stupid egos. For you, it all came back to your dad again.

The only reason you all were fucked up to this point was because of him. Even if Luther didn’t wanna see it. Diego was right. In your eyes, your father didn’t have a soft spot for any of you buried underneath that thick layer of harshness.

Klaus stood over the pile of ashes on the floor, kneeling down. “I bet you’re loving this. Hmm? The team at its best. It’s just like old times.” He took one last puff before putting his cigarette out in the ashes.

When he stood back up, he walked over to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder to guide you back into the house.

“Come on, Glowbug, let’s get you a drink. Best funeral ever, huh?”

——✨——

You knocked softly on Luther’s room door.

“Hey, Luther? You okay?”

……

“I’m fine.”

“Well, let me take a look at the cut, we don’t need it getting infected.”

….

“No, t-that’s ok.”

“Are you sure?”

“You should probably head home…or to bed, whichever, you can spend the night.”

Another bout of silence.

You let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, if you change your mind, I’ll be in my sanctum.”

You started walking off but the clicking of Luther’s door caught your attention.

“Wait!”

You turned as the door slowly opened. Honestly, the sight of big bad Luther peeking out like a scared puppy was adorable.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

——✨——

“You know, you’d think after all these years, I would be able to get rid of scars.” You joked as you hover your hand over the cut.

“Dad always said it was to remind us of our mistakes.”

“Yeah…I hated it.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed of being hairy, you know?”

Luther gave you a confused look.

“I assumed you didn’t want me to heal you in the first place cause you were ashamed of it. People are hairy dude. I’ve met a ton of hairy dudes and chicks. It’s a part of our biology.”

As much as he wanted to correct you, he didn’t want to potentially reveal his secret, so he sat there, silently watching the slit in his arm close as if that part of his body was being rewinded. He always thought the light accompanied the healing process as a means to hide the work. Maybe some people would be put off by watching their flesh mend in a way they weren’t used to you.

Wanting to move the conversation, Luther spoke up.

“You know…we were all worried about you…when you left.”

“Even Diego?”

“...Yeah, even Diego…in his own way.”

“Well…I managed. Got taken in by a nice lady.”

“That’s good to know.”

More silence.

“You know Allison told me she tried to stop you that night. Are you still mad at her?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? She tried to rumor me into staying.”

“Then you attacked her.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“You know she was coming from a good place.”

“She was until she tried taking away my free will.” Your light dimmed. “Makes you question everything she’s ever achieved…even her marriage.”

“Hey! That’s a sensitive subject for her.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Boohoo Allison and her having to face people not finding her likable. Surprised it took her so long.”

You huffed as you stood up and headed for the door.

“Are you gonna be mad at her forever?”

“Maybe…get some sleep, big guy.”

You closed his door behind you, not even sparing a glance at Allison’s as you walked to your old room, closing and locking the door behind you. You used to get in trouble for doing so back then but with your dad gone, you didn’t have to hear his grating voice give you some dumb lecture.

You looked around your room, nothing really changed since you last saw it. All of your little pictures still hung up on the wall. Your dresser still had the same broken knobs and burn marks from when you took your volatile grief out on it. All of your little trinkets were still where you left them, even your old doll “Lucille” in all her chopped and mangled hair glory.

You picked her up and fell back on your bed, lying down with one leg dangling off the side as you fiddled with Lucille’s hair.

“Well, Lucille…the old man finally croaked…and I don’t feel any better. Why the fuck is that?”

——✨——

17 Years Ago

“This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for Channel 2 News outside of the Capital West bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages.”

On the inside, a few of the bank robbers were keeping their attention on the tied-up hostages as their presumed leader entered the main area, ordering them to get the hostages behind the counter as he firmly held the phone to his ear, talking to the hostage negotiator stationed outside.

“Now you’ve put me in a position where I gotta do something I don’t want to do. Hmm?”

None of them seemed to notice the newest addition. A little girl in a school uniform wearing a domino mask. Even more so, no one noticed when she looked up to the lights around the room and held her arms out, a dim light emitting from her hands as the lights flickered out and briefly shut off for a moment before turning back on.

The thieves looked around for any sign of some cop entering the building as the boss spoke into the phone again. It would only be in jail when they realized it was one of the children that captured them that messed with the lights, allowing the others to make their stealthy entrance.

“You pull something like that again, we’ll kill one of the hostages.”

The negotiator justifiably was confused.

The boss of the gang didn’t notice the other little girl approaching him casually, standing next to him without a care in the world. She wore the same uniform and mask as the other one. When the man noticed her presence, he ordered her to join the other captives.

The girl looked down, mumbling something underneath her breath.

“What? What did you say?”

The little girl smirked, he had fallen right into her trap as she leaned in. “I heard a rumor…that you shot your friend in the foot.”

The man’s eyes went white as this new reality set in for him. Like a zombie, he pointed his gun towards his cohort who noticed just a bit too late.

“Hey, dude. What the hell?”

BANG!

The man groaned as the bullet hit his foot, the pain sending him to the floor as he accidentally set off his own gun, bullets piercing the glass window that four hostages took cover under. All of the captives began screaming as the boss of the group stared at his gun in sheer disbelief.

The muffled shots of the gun captured the attention of the cops and onlookers outside, everyone instinctively ducking in case a stray hit them.

“We just heard shots from inside the bank. It’s uncertain if any hostages have been harmed in that.”

The new cameraman’s attention went to the roof after a civilian pointed out someone walking along the roof. Of course, many of the people on the ground couldn’t see the person clearly with the reporter even suggesting that it might be law enforcement.

On the contrary, it was a boy wearing a masculine version of the same uniform that the two little girls were wearing along with the same mask.

Once the boy was in position, he jumped through the glass roof, landing right behind one of the thieves standing behind the counter. He grabbed him, slamming his head against the counter surface before effortlessly tossing him towards higher windows where everyone outside watched as the same man came crashing through and hitting the ground way below as everyone screamed.

“Looks like one of the armed robbers has been thrown from the bank.”

Back inside, another child came charging in. “Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives.” He launched two knives in the direction of the robber and the little girl that rumored him. The thief instinctively puts an arm up as the avoid being stabbed in the face.

However, everyone was shocked to watch the knives turn, piercing through the suit of a thief holding a machine gun, sending him back against the wall.

“I’ve been in many hostage situations like this, and it can escalate very quickly.”

The children had the bald thief cornered as he stood atop the counter, aiming his pistol at the kids. “Get back now!”

“Hey, be careful up there, buddy.” Diego mocked him.

Allison joined in. “Yeah, wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Suddenly another appeared, quite literally. “Or what?” He was extremely smug as the thief turned to aim the gun at him.

The boy blinked out of view as the thief fired a shot and missed. In frustration, he fired more shots with an angered yell. Five reappeared behind him with his arms folded. The man went to shoot him again however, his gun had been replaced with a stapler.

“Ooh! That’s one badass stapler!” He then pushed the stapler back and smashed it into the skull of the thief, throwing him back.

The thief stumbled a bit before passing out and falling back onto the floor.

“Although there’s been no activity for a few minutes, we’re gonna stay live on location to make sure we don’t miss anything in this hostage situation at the Capital West bank.”

Ben stood there nervous about what he was asked to do. You stood with Allison and Diego as Luther and Klaus urged him to take out the rest of the guys hiding within the vault.

Ben sighed as he entered the room. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

The crowd of onlookers watched on as the captives all frantically ran out of the building.

“Now we see the hostages. They--they’re free. They’re scared, clearly, but they do seem to be unharmed.”

You and your siblings watched through the tempered glass as Ben’s tentacles ravaged all the remaining thieves. The beast inside of Ben letting out an ear-piercing screech as the men inside screamed for their lives. Blood splattered everywhere as you watched limbs fly from side to side.

Finally, the noise stopped as Ben poked his head out, covered in blood from head to toe. His eyes scanned all of you as he let out shaky breaths. “Can we go home now?”

That was how your father decided to introduce the world to the Umbrella academy. You remembered every bit of it. The overwhelming flashes of light and the microphones being shoved in your face, causing your breathing to quicken. The only solace being Klaus and Ben holding your hand. Even though Klaus seemed to be fine, Ben was clearly ashamed of being covered in blood for the interviews.

When one of the reporters asked your father if he was concerned about your wellbeing, it piqued your interest. Your dad’s answer was a curt yes but his worries were overshadowed by the worry for the world. There was something about his answer that never sat right with you.

#flourescent fic #ben hargreeves x y/n #ben hargreeves x reader #tua x reader

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ragtimeunder · 1 year ago

Text

Im really sorry to say this but this is some crackpot reasoning. I'll go through this whole thing point for point with my reasoning from left to right, top to bottom. There are some good points here. but there are also some... really really bad ones. we'll get to that.

I agree on the notion that mysteryman is likely Gaster. There's ample evidence for it. To make it short, FUN values for every explicitly Gaster related event contain at least one 6. there's a set of stats in the files for Gaster containing nothing but strings of 6 and -6. and entry 17-(labelled in files as room_gaster)-'s wingdings font has the in-game typer value of 666. Mystery room's FUN number is exactly 66. So its almost positively Gaster.

The fridge in the True Lab was certainly foreshadowing our future man-related escapades in Deltarune. much like ICE-E, don't forget, and Entry 17's "darkness". I don't know why its here though, there's no connection to Gaster, aside from just the true lab itself. but even then thats more Alphys stuff. Is Everyman tied to Gaster as well? actually thats kinda fun considering the next piece:

If man being in the name was enough to connect the mysteryman, and therefor Gaster, to The Egg Tree Man, then what about Everyman? He's probably not Gaster, as he looks nothing like the Mysteryman, the egg tree man could be either of these, but he cant be both, as neither can be the other.

...and now... and Im so so sorry to do this to you, but its time to fucking pick apart that jab about denial. because IM A MUSICIAN

These are transcriptions of Gaster's theme (blue) and Man.ogg (red) layered on top of eachother as best as I could manage. they have wildly different time signatures though, so it looks a bit janky. It should also be noted I transposed Gaster's theme to have a root note that matches the starting position of what I believe to be the 'Gaster's theme' part. I did this so comparing the notes they land on at different parts would be easier.

So, Gaster's theme is pretty simple. You start on the note you start on. then you go up by one semitone. the third note rises up high by a whole 7 semitones. then goes back down to the second note's position. rinse and repeat 4 times, then you transpose the switch things up by copying the whole bar and transposing down chromatically, meaning one note apart. There is some interesting stuff here with left hand section though. the bass line barely moves for the transposition. and the part that does move, it's 1st position, actually moves chromatically up instead. I didn't picture it here, but this chromatic stuff is really important looking at Another him. because another him moves multiple times, but always chromatically. In both cases, it helps provide this sense of dread or unease to the character, as notes one semitone apart from each other sort of clash. A famous example of chromatic notes used in this way is the JAWS theme. You can also here it in Undyne's overworld theme in Undertale.

Now... we get to Man.ogg... hoo boy..

so, we're off to a rocky start. instead of moving up by 1 semitone, we move down instead. then the 3rd position is moving up by 9 semitones. putting it 1 semitone over where this note would go if it were Gaster's theme. then instead of going down to match position 2 like every other version of Gaster's theme, we instead go partially down by 5 semitones. and from there, rather than returning and repeating. or at least looping to the same note as position 1 like Another him's walk iteration of the motif, we go up again, and do something completely different. Ah, but at least once thats done it transposes down and repeats, right??? except for the fact that its transposed by 2 semitones... remember how I mentioned how another him solidifies the importance of the chromatic movement? well two notes is, by the definition of chromatic, not chromatic. The baseline doesnt even do the moving by 1 semitone up thing. granted, thats less important, but with everything else that doesnt matter too much.

So yeah, they're not the same. And anyone who says otherwise isn't listening properly. I've been doing music for over 2 years now, and Andrew Cunningham, one of the first people I know to properly point out that this isn't Gaster's theme, went to college to study music. As far as Im aware it wasn't a full education, but you dont need a degree to look at the sheet music and see that moving down makes the song different from another that moves up.

That being said, upon closely analyzing this... it's... almost comical how close the song is to Gaster's theme without ever having the elements that actually make Gaster's theme iconic. Specific intervals are just one or two semitones off. Strange... that sounds a lot like a point Im about to talk about too. like some kind of reoccurring theme.

So now: getting back to being not a dick to a random person on the internet, time to talk about the best point here! The room between. It's similar structure and positioning. This is actually a really really good point. They're too similar to possibly be unintentional. Toby explicitly wrote this character's appearances to seem like Gaster appearances.

but he also wrote them to not contain any signature other than that. And I want to posit why that might be. Why would someone write an intentional parallel between two mysterious men?

Its interesting, The Egg Tree man's encounter almost matches mystery man's in Undertale, his theme almost matches Gaster's theme.

His speaking style almost matches Gaster's

(Yeah I went there. If you pay close attention the lack of G-Man-esque breaks every fewer words then usual that Gaster consistently uses tells me its someone else, and the use of phrases like "Well," and the flip-flopping between different states of being tells me its Egg Tree Man)

What could this mean? Im not sure exactly. Maybe he could be, like... an incomplete and imperfect piece of the Doctor or something, maybe he was a man with a similar fate, but otherwise someone completely different. idk, but I think saying the guy who brought us into the world of deltarune, who manipulated 2+ darkners into a madness that ruined their lives, and who literally uses the number of the beast as a calling card has any reason to hang around behind a tree and hand eggs to children while he waves at passersby in his car is maybe doing the character a bit of a disservice.

well that concludes the argument. I want to take a final moment to say that I agree with your statement about people not taking Gaster seriously. I've seen people try to say he's just a Red Herring. that we don't 'truly' know who the other him speaking to us at the start of deltarune is, and that we don't truly know if he's a skeleton, or if Mysteryman is truly Gaster. This all does him and his ominously written mystery a grave disservice. but there is an equal disservice in taking him for granted as well. There was a recent theory going around that Gaster wrote several of the Alphys entries in the true lab. Despite the fact that we know what his writing style looks like, we've seen one of his entries for crying out loud... This does a disservice to the legitimate character writing of both Alphys as WELL as Gaster, in favor of achieving a satisfaction with the 'lore'. It reminds me of FNaF. And I love FNaF, but no one should EVER try to write like FNaF.

My point I guess is that overcorrecting is still a problem for the same reason as underanalyzing. Because both are ignoring the consistently used points of evidence that make up the strings in this web. We know more about Gaster than we EVER HAVE. And I think we should act like it.

Sorry for the LONG LONG read btw. I'm extremely passionate about Dr. Gaster and media analysis as well. I hope I can properly sway you, because while I dont think you're wrong in your reasoning, I also think its missing a lot, and the conclusions I've reached just from laying this all out has opened up a whole new avenue of narrative potential for me, and I wish the same for you as well.

Rebleg to scare gaster obsessers (I am also a gaster obsesser but at least I have grown and learned what a damn calling card is) /LH

I was hasty to type out the thread so here's a few corrections:

Chapter 2's room between is room 150. I misspelled it.

Its spelled Seccom Masada.

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creation-help · 2 years ago

Note

[trigger warning for passing mentions of murder... does that count as heavy content?]

could you review the design of my ace attorney ocs?

valerie n. toine used to be a rather successful defense attorney (look on the left with the sweater vest), but after losing a case while trying to defend her fiance who goes on to die in prison, she grows cold and bitter. she becomes a prosecutor (look on the right) and plots her revenge against the man who she deems responsible, which of course in the ace attorney universe means trying to murder someone and falsifying evidence while prosecuting the case. i really wanted her to look sort of romantic and lovecore-y overall, as love is a pretty big part of her story, but obviously she has to look well-put-together and somewhat imposing as well. and i wanted her younger self to look, well, younger and more sweet/care-free.

the second one is a bit of a self insert (and doesnt have a proper reference yet), his name is jack tryles, hes a law student who acts as phoenix wrights co-counsel for a while and who val ends up stabbing in an alleyway lol. he survives though, dont worry. being a self insert his design is kind of whatever i think looks cool than anything too based on his character/story, so id appreciate critique on more of a purely visual standpoint for him.

[Again mentioning that I'm not able to comment on anything regarding the Canon text here, as I'm not familiar with the ace attorney games beyond a pretty surface level]

Valerie N. Toine:

Lemme just say I'm very much enjoying the outfit design here, having her be lovecore aesthetically while her main conflict focuses on, ykno, love, is very cool! The fact that she has an engagement(?)/wedding ring in the Before version, while in the After version it's some other nondescript ring? Mwah. Also I just wanna say, the heart shaped buttons on the jacket, in the After version, wonderful detail. Though this all did make me wonder, what if the After version was more themed around like, heartbreak and grim lovecore instead of the positive kind? Not a criticism by any means, just my suggestion for if you wanted to make the change more dramatic (maybe like adding more black, deep red and wine colors, stuff like that). Depends on if you want a more artistic or realistic impression I think! However the After outfit (hair included!) is very good as is :] also I love how, in the small headshot, her hair is in a heart shaped bun.. Mwah. Again.

In my opinion the design has a good balance with not being too simple and not too complex, and despite what I said about the color scheme earlier I think you did great with darkening the colors on the After outfit, while still keeping energy from the first one. The lessening of white is a nice subtle touch, also, great color planning on your part for making the boots (2nd vers) the same color as her bell bottoms (1st vers)! Just a very cohesive well coordinated color scheme across both iterations. The glasses and the bow staying despite everything keeps a good bit of consistency.

I think you succeeded in having her look like someone to not be taken lightly (2nd vers. Obviously), she definitely looks very formal compared to the first version. More.. Angular, ykno? Mostly thanks to the clothes. I feel like maybe I'd also add something to her Person as well, to signify the change? Due to the art style ofc I can't know if you intended her younger self to look physically younger and springier (this is a reference drawing so I'm not judging that at all), but if not I highly encourage that!

Well put together - absolutely!

Imposing - hmm? I'm not saying she doesn't necessarily look imposing - she very well could depending on how she'd be portrayed visually but mostly, from comparing the two versions I moreso get a sense of "Professionalism vs. Chill and casual", and Mature vs. Carefree, ykno? The sharp shapes in her hair do well to further the more serious and imposing image but I feel like there could be a slight bit more, if you want her to look more intimidating. Unfortunately I'm not sure if I can quite put my finger on it. My overall opinion is that the design is Good, it works, it's cohesive, and I really can't reasonably come up with anything I'd seriously think should be changed. For a very subjective personal take, in my taste, I'd probably make it even more - dramatic, cartoony? Exaggerated?? But, that is all up to how you want to portray her. I personally like to get super into designing something unless I'm intending them to look plain or "normal" (human terms), however take this from someone who primarily does surreal or fantasy (and nonhuman) designs, haha. Really, I think this is great, skilled visual design and honestly I wouldn't say I'm extremely good at outfit design myself so, while adjustments or flavor details could be added - she totally doesn't need them! I honestly could've gone on more about the small details that change between the two versions but I'll just cap this off with saying Great work!

Jack Tryles (Can I just say that last name is so tasty in my mouth. Also is it a.. Pun? Like "trials"??)

Definitely a bit more visually busy, and although it could give off a more messy or chaotic impression I kinda like it. If we compare him to Valerie, she really does come off as very put together and composed. Not that he doesn't, though! Just by comparison.

The fullbody outfit has a fun combination of shapes that give it a good amount of visual variance. There is slight asymmetry with the positioning of the pins and other accessories but he still keeps a fairly professional image - just one that's lots more personalised and customised than Valerie.

I would say, maybe the jacket could also have pinstripes like the pants? I find it a small bit inconsistent with only one of them being pure black. It's not a huge deal to me though, and I'm moreso tilting my head at it than finding it a downside. Just makes it seem that the pants and jacket aren't a part of the same set, if you get me? Though that could also work to establish personality more, like many of the other personalized touches. I think for this design, he has just the right amount of accessories! Not too many not too little. I also love that the soles of the shoes are green! The color scheme is minimal, definitely more reserved, but imo it works for what it's trying to be - which is, I assume, a work outfit.

For me personally I think I might wanna break up the large areas of black, it's just on the cusp of being a bit too much of the same color next to each other but you can again take this as a personal comment. It's just what I think would make it more visually appealing, though I do like black! Maybe you could add a lighter tone of green somewhere?

Still, it works, it's interesting enough to look at, can't find much I'd complain about. Although I think the color planning on Valerie is a bit more engaging since there's more variety of different looking things (like with patterns for example) that still fit together. Still, no complaints as I said. I'm also not sure how much I'd feel appropriate commenting on him considering - self insert, which is meant to moreso reflect on you. I will say, they do look like they fit well into the same story so, good work all around in designing them both together :]

#Oc review #Character design #Character design review #Ask #I hope the commentary was fine!#I'm nervous if it's a bit. Saying alot but not much #Since non fantasy human designs tend to not be my area #By that I mean I've only recently gotten all into that #Maybe I'm just worrying alot since. (glances at my exhaustion lately) so ykno #Enjoy nonetheless!#I honestly couldn't think of that much to critique nor change suggestions on these! You did good!

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yandere-daze · 3 years ago

Note

Not a request!!! Just a thought;

But will you ever consider writing a full on one-shot of the self aware enstars au? I’ve been reading some of your discussions about it and it’s low-key interesting …I love your work as well so I’m interested in reading your interpretations on it! Because in a lot of yandere stories, it mostly relies on dialogue to tell us all about the character and plot of the story. There’s also physical descriptions of actions which is made very clear cut and just generally straightforward that it is a yandere story. Which I feel like it’s easy to lose interest on such stories because you can usually predict how it’ll go. There’s also the entire POV thing, wether it be 3rd, 1st, or 2nd, I feel like you could use each of these perspectives to throw the readers in a loop. Wether it be being vague to the point everyone is always switching the blame, red herrings with false implications, etc. And I think it’s kinda hard to feel the scary aspect of a yandere story when it’s clearly in front of you. There’s not a lot of room for interpretations for it. I usually like reading a story that’s more “show don’t tell” vibe when it comes to yandere, because as a reader you also feel unnerved not knowing the characters…but they know you, don’t they? But you don’t have to know that yet, don’t lose you head over it silly…It really starts to make you question intentions, second guess, and having to re read each paragraph to find any foreshadowing. Hell, maybe you start to go crazy as well.

Which is why I like the idea of a self aware au, you’d probably just find yourself outright denying everything. That the game is iffy and is worth deleting (aka more complications) or you’d full on always blame the lag or a bug. But specifically self aware au where the mc gets transported into their world, it’d be 100% more harder, considering having to adapt in a new world and slowly realising your entire existence. I feel like it can slowly spiral to an unhinged mc that’s just succumbing to their reality, losing their marbles while at it, and bunch of dudes go crazy for them.

But what do you think of how the mc/reader would react? In a self aware au setting, I think there’s many possibilities and each oprutunity can lead up to some spicy drama lol…

Ps. I love your work! You’ve really worked hard and I hope it continues to pay off! Hope you have a great day <3

First of all, thank you for the very thorough ask, I love seeing what you guys think about certain aspects!

To answer your question, I'd definitely be up for one day writing a one-shot centered around the idea of the yandere self-aware au! All it comes down to is me suddenly getting a good idea on what I could write. The way I go about writing scenarios vs headcanons or rambles is pretty different

For headcanons it's usually good enough to simply start with certain ideas and then it kind of develops from there because I get more ideas as I'm writing and the structure of headcanons or rambles allows me to simply add on any ideas I just had without disrupting the "flow" too much

With scenarios, I usually like to plan out most of what happens beforehand. So I have a certain idea and the steps of what needs to happen in order and at what conclusion I want to end it all on. I can still improvise some of the dialogue or smaller parts but usually I have an outline I need to follow so it all makes sense because it's like an actual story you read from beginning to end that needs to follow a single flowing narrative

It's a lot more work and I need a better idea of what I want to write about, which is why it's usually rarer for me to post a scenario, it just takes a lot of time compared to headcanons.

What I mean to say is that I'm open to the idea of writing a one-shot for the Au, I'm just waiting for the day where an idea suddenly appears in my head and I know exactly what to write. So it may take a while to get to that point but it's definitely not out of the question!

I'm also a fan of "show, don't tell" and subtle foreshadowing and I like trying to incorporate some of that into my writing, though I don't know if I always succeed at that. I particularly throwing in a line and repeating it in the end where it has a different meaning djdjd The "unknown" parts are what keeps me on my toes as I read a yandere story. Of course, having read a lot of these stories over the years you start to get a certain feeling for tropes that might appear so I'm genuinely impressed when something manages to surprise me. I love the slow realization of all the hints the author dropped in the beginning and that it didn't just come out of the blue.

The reader being unaware of what is actually happening, only being able to guess is really interesting and you're right when you say that a self-aware au lends itself well to that!

I feel like no matter how much I think about this kind of AU and how suspicious it would be for a new line to appear or something of the like, irl I would never realize something like that would be happening to be honest djdjdj Like I would sit there and be like " I guess they added a new campaign :)" or think it was some sort of glitch. Knowing of the tropes in writing would not help be in actually realizing the problem if I were in that exact same situation, so I can't blame the readers in these scenarios that only think the app is acting up or something. We as the actual readers might be aware that it's yandere related but no one would actually believe that if they were in the same situation

So yes, the game starts glitching and ominous things happen and yet the player is not aware at all. You just know something is happening but you don't know *what*

But really, imagine something like that happening to you and you're suddenly in the enstars world, you would be so disoriented and scares as hell💀 Like, how would you even get out of there?? How did you get there in the first place?? What is going on??

You'd be so stressed that you'd have an even harder time picking up on any unhealthy behaviors from the characters, too distracted by the fact that you're somehow talking to a living, breathing game character.

Mika: "Oh I'm so so glad to see you! I don't deserve to be in your presence but I would do absolutely anything for you! Just say the word and I will get rid of anyone that bothers you because I love you so much!!"

You: Is that Mika Kagehira from the hit mobile-game Ensemble Stars! Music and Basic, available in the appstore and Google play as well as in qooapp? Oh my god

Like, you're just in utter disbelief that any of this is happening while all the characters go bonkers because you're finally with them. I can definitely see you slowly losing your mind because it's all so surreal and you don't know what to do or who to trust

#anon ask #ensemble stars self aware au #yandere self aware au

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tarn-ati0n · 2 years ago

Text

Champion Lance, second try

Ok, 2 things

1. The past two days I was just rushing through the elite 4 with the coin amulet on to afford a bunch of healing items

2. Knowing that he starts with Gyarados I put Chocolate in front so that she could paralyze it and lower its defense

That being said, this time I fully intend to beat this guy

- I forgot the Gyarados also has Intimidate, but that doesn't really matter since I don't plan to attack with Chocolate. Let's hope Glare hits and she doesn't flinch

- she flinched

But Waterfall did only do a bit more than half of her hp, so she can take another one. I try Glare again

- Glare hit! But Chocolate has just 9 hp left so I either have to use a potion or switch her out.

I still want to lower it's defense, so potion it is

- Paralasys hits and I could heal without getting damage, I think I can get two or three Screeches in before switching

- 1st Screech hits, but so does Waterfall.

She can still take one more though, so I try it another time

- 2nd Screech also hits, but since the Gyarados could land another Waterfall I have to switch Chocolate out. She did her job though, Gyarados's defense is comparable with a wet piece of paper now. Switching into Pidgeot.

- Pidgeot gets in and IMMEDIATELY gets a critical Waterfall in her face. She's still standing, but in the red area. I'm going for Fly and hoping that it kills, because I don't want to waste all of my potions on his first pokemon

- FUCK it survived with just a small bit of it's hp left. A Dragon Pulse takes out Pigeot, and knowing that Lance will use a full restore I send Chocolate back in to Paralyze it again

- yep, used a potion and Paralasys went back on afterwards. He basically only has his hp left. Chocolate still has only 9 hp left, so I'm healing her and then revive Pidgeot

- Chocolate heals and the significantly weakened Waterfall really doesn't do much damage anymore. I was thinking about using Screech again, but I'm getting sick of seeing it's stupid blue face already and am just gonna Crunch it to death.

- two Crunches later and Gyarados is down. Lance already sends out his first Dragonite and I KNOW that thing has Earthquake. I wanted to switch into Pidgeot and realize that, Genius that I am, forgot to revive her.

It's at this point that I would like to formally apologize to my Pidgeot. For everything I put this Bird through.

Moving on, knowing that an earthquake is coming I choose my second best option, Sylt.

- Dragonite didn't use Earthquake and instead chose Outrage, which Crits and immediately takes out Sylt. Fuck this, I'm just gonna send in Atlas and let her handle it

- Ashley is in, I'm hoping she's faster but I highly doubt it. I'm taking a risk and use stone edge

- it hits and kills instantly. If fortune is on my side this is how the rest of the battle will go

- second dragonite, second time using stone edge

- second time hitting stone edge and defeating it easily

- last Dragonite, hopefully third time hitting stone edge

- wow, that's the three Dragonites done. I should probably feel a little bad, but considering what he did to me the last time we thought I think this is fair

- Charizard. Buddy, that thing is 4x weak to rock. Rock slide.

- now that Lance is on his last pokemon, Aerodactyl, ending it just like that is too anticlimactic for me. I'm healing Chocolate, as the unofficial Maskot of the team she deserves another spotlight.

- healed Chocolate, and the Aerodactyl used rock slide against me. It seems like it doesn't have any good moves against me.

I can't just switch into Chocolate like that though, someone needs to sacrifice themselves so I can get a clean switch.

My Choice is on Ashley, since Rock is super effective against her.

- Ashley got sent in, and the Rockslide kills her almost instantly. I use focus punch so she doesn't do damage to Aerodactyl. Chocolate can have this one

- Ashley is out, Chocolate is in.

As always I plan to use my usual bullshit, Glare-screech-crunch

- Glare hits but the rock slide did over half of Ashley's hp. I'm switching her out against Tectra, heal her, that switch her back in so I can get another Intimidate

- Tectra gets a slash in, and the Aerial Ace does almost no damage.

What if....

I use Rollout and see if Tectra can beat it? I mean, I love Chocolate as much as the next guy but I would also love to see Tectra win this battle.

Fuck it. Rollout. Now it's time to wait and see

- 1st rollout - critical hit and the Aerodactyl couldn't move

- 2nd Rollout- almost there

- 3rd Rollout - Lance uses a full restore

- 4th Rollout - Aerodactyl lands a critical Aerial Ace and defeats Tectra. But if Chocolate can land her Crunch she can win this.

- I send in Chocolate and immediately go for Crunch.

- unsurprisingly it's faster, but it's rock slide doesn't really do much damage. And now it's dea-

Huh?

Oh come on.

Fine. One more Crunch I guess.

- nope, Lance used another full restore. But at least this Crunch lowered its defense. Another Crunch

- Chocolate avoided the Rockslide. I'm not sure if one more Crunch can do it

- CHOCOLATE SURVIVED THE ROCK SLIDE WITH 7 HP! CRUNCH KILLS! THE FUCKER WITH THE RED CAPE IS DOWN!

#chocolate vs the elite four #i realize now that this tag is a bit poorly thought out

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cthulhuliet · 4 years ago

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Hi hi ~~ big fan of your Lawlight work * chef kiss * So, if it serves to inspire you I got this little idea! NSFW A huge hc of mine is that Light loves L reading for him with that hot British accent of his, like come on, L`s dubbed voice with a brit accent??*agressive chef kiss* SOO imagine Light resting his head on L`s lap while L is reading to him and things get lewd in the novel :D maybe things coul get lewd in reality too 👀👀 oh, and another hc of mine is that Light rides D like a pro so ... maybe something with both? if you'd like 👉👈 No pressure at all tho!

Thank you so much for your kind words :') I am a fan of your Lawlight work as well, and even though it took a two weeks or so (my bad) I really hope you enjoy! (it also, as always, turned out to be a lot longer than I meant it).

close your eyes and imagine it

3.1k words | AO3 Link | warnings: explicit content, general kink, you know the drill

Most of the dreams were incomprehensible nonsense, and L had just about given up on the month of April when he saw a long entry that made him pause. His eyes widened at the contents. “Huh.”

Light shifted a little bit to make himself more comfortable, eyes only half open, “Hmm? Find something interesting?”

“I am in this one. Did you frequently dream about me?”

There was a beat, and Light responded coolly, “I cannot remember specifics. Hence, the journal.”

L hummed, a small smirk Light could not see grew on his face, “Well then, I will read this one out loud for your benefit.

The one where Light discovers a dream journal he had written during the Kira investigation and can't help but be embarrassed by L's role in his fantasies. L, of course, does not mind. -

“A dream journal?” L questioned. He closed his laptop and Light smirked, raising an eyebrow, holding the notebook in his hands. L crossed the room and took the journal from Light, “Where did you find this?”

Light shrugged, “On my bookshelf with a lot of my other textbooks and such.”

“How old is this?”

“Was in my late teens, I suspect.”

L flipped through the book idly, Light’s neat handwriting was pleasant and clean compared to L’s own scrawled and messy penmanship. The pages slightly stuck together, as the old notebook seemed to have not been touched in years. L stopped at a page and briefly read the contents and looked at the date, before his own eyes widened.

“Hang on, this is during-”

“The Kira investigation? Yeah.” Light’s slight smirk turned into a large cheshire. “I figured you might be interested in reading what I wrote.”

L bit his bottom lip, looking up at Light, one eyebrow raised, “Does the Death Note still give you nightmares to this day?”

Shrugging, Light came up to L and looked over his shoulder at the notebook, “I mean, sometimes? But I also believe that having nightmares is just a part of being a person.”

“Or you have become so numb to your own murderous tendencies the nightmares do not affect you that much anymore.” L muttered, just loud enough for Light to hear.

He did hear him, of course, and he retaliated by shoving L hard enough for him to fall backwards onto their bed. Light socked L on the arm when he flopped down onto his back as well as L went to read Light’s journal to himself.

“Leave me alone, Light, can’t you see I am busy?” L teased, which earned him another hit on his arm, “You are being bothersome.”

Light crossed his arms, now sitting next to L laying down on the bed, “Those are my dreams, you are not reading without me, obviously.”

“Well then lie down so I can read them to you.” Light was the most frustrating man that L had ever been with. He wouldn’t have him any other way.

L sat up and rested his back against the headboard. Light assumed his usual position and rested his head on L’s lap. L idly put his hands through Light soft brown locks, twirling his soft hair through his fingers.

This was not an unusual position to find the pair in. Light often requests that L read to him, the other man finding the restrained but smooth baritone of L’s voice to be incredibly attractive, but also incredibly calming to listen to. It is not the first time his voice has been complimented, and it certainly will not be the last. Sayu has told L multiple times that he should become a voice over actor. He politely declined. The rest of the people do not matter, really. The only praise he needs is when Light humbly hands him a book he reads before bed, and falls asleep to L’s voice quicker than any amount reading on his own.

“‘ April 1st, 2004: I was present for class at To-Oh university, however we were all forced to give a presentation about when we believe all of our classmates will die and why. This was a horribly dark and drab lecture hall, and I had forgotten my cue cards about why Sakurano Mari was going to die due to dementia .’ This is not exactly a fun read.”

“It was not exactly fun to think about either.”

“I am going to find a different one.”

L used one hand to run his fingers through Light’s hair and the other to flip through the journal, skimming through the contents. Most of the recounts were incomprehensible nonsense, though there is no judgement to be had there. Whenever L does sleep, most of his dreams are disconnected fragments of stories -- feelings and emotions rather than a complete narrative.

L had just about given up on the month of April when he saw a long entry that made him pause. His eyes widened at the contents.

“Huh.”

Light shifted a little bit to make himself more comfortable, eyes only half open, “Hmm? Find something interesting?”

“I am in this one.”

“Are you?”

“Did you frequently dream about me?”

There was a beat, and Light responded coolly, “I cannot remember specifics. Hence, the journal.”

L hummed, a small smirk Light could not see grew on his face, “Well then, I will read this one out loud for your benefit:

“‘ Damn that Ryuzaki. He is plaguing my thoughts not only during the day, but I cannot even escape the damn bastard in my dreams’, I love you too, dearest ,” L sardonically snided. Light pinched his thigh , “ ‘Last night's events were particularly egregious, as this is not the first time something like this has happened, but I feel mortified even writing this down. Though, maybe if I recount what happened (like with the nightmares) these dreams will go down in their numbers.

“‘Ryuzaki and myself were in the library studying next to one another. I was eating a biscotti with tea. As it was in my mouth, Ryuzaki came up and bit off the end of my biscotti and just chuckled at me. I wasn’t sure what to do or say, but I just know I felt really hot an -’”

“L…” Light gripped his thigh dangerously, “What are you doing.” It was phrased as a question, but Light said it as a command. He ignored him. Light was never the one to give out commands anyway.

“‘ I cannot remember much but the next moment Ryuzaki’s lips were on my neck. Everything was fuzzy, but I could feel him biting marks into me and was teasing me by grinding against my di- ’”

Light growled, “I’m taking this away from you. Now.” He moved to sit up, but L’s hand was still in his hair. L gripped his roots harshly and shoved him back down. Light whined at the action, swallowing hard.

“You are not going anywhere.” That was a command, and Light took it as such.

“This is mortifying…” Light muttered against the mattress, his speech breathy.

L hummed and pulled Light’s hair up, forcing him to look at him, “I disagree.” He lied. “You are going to be good and listen to me read this whole thing.”

Light laughed, cocky, though his eyes were glassy with flushed cheeks, “Oh yeah? Or what?”

“Or how about I get to come and you don’t, hmm?” Light opened his mouth and closed it again, face flushed with shame. L let go of his hair and Light buried his head in L’s lap. L smirked and chuckled, “You are so adorable, all blushy and embarrassed…” Light whined at that, running his fingernail down the inside of L’s thigh.

“‘ This is not the first time this has happened, though I have to admit, it was the best incident. Even hazy, I had never felt that sensitive and stimulated. I just wanted to stay like that forever.’” L had one hand on the book, the other held a distracted, but firm, grip in Light’s hair, who was presently biting his lip and running soft strokes over L’s cock. “‘It was even better when I got to put my mouth on Ryuzaki. I have never sucked a dick before, so my brain could only supply what it imagines it feels like, but it was not even that that made it so good. Ryuzaki would hold my hair tight and look down at me while I was on my knees. He kept telling me that I was a slut, but that I was doing such a good job for him. Even before this I thought Ryuzaki had such a nice voice, I wish I could hear him more…’ You think my voice is nice, huh?” L asked, keeping his voice level, as Light’s feather touches became firm palming.

He groaned again, “Tch, shut up.”

“No.” L pulled him by his hair, forcing Light to look him in the eye, “I think it is time you shut up.” In only a few seconds, L manhandled Light and dropped him to his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed. L sat at the end, grabbing the journal with one hand and undoing his jeans with the other. “How many times have you sucked dick since writing this? Hundreds?” Light finished the job of removing L’s pants and underwear, his cock standing erect in front of him, “C’mon cock-slut, show me what you got.”

Light eagerly took L in his mouth, expertly utilizing his tongue on his head. L closed his eyes and tried to not become overwhelmed by the sensation. He opened his eyes to see Light’s cocky doe-eyes staring back up at him.

“What was it that you dreamed of? My hand tight in your hair, fucking your mouth, telling you you’re being a good slut, right?” L asked, rhetorically as he returned his hand to harshly grip Light’s locks. He slowly moved Light’s head up and down, spit dribbled out of the corners of his mouth. Light’s face was blood red with humiliation and lust, it was perfect.

L bit his lip as Light took him all the way down his throat, refusing to be the one to break first. He picked up the journal again, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the work in front of him. “‘ Ryuzaki kept calling me good boy, telling me I was taking him so well, and never had anyone ever made him feel as good as I was. I felt so overwhelmed. I had never felt such extreme desire for anyone, but I think at that moment I would do anything for him.’ Do you still want to hear all that? Still want me to call you a good boy, and tell you you are taking me so well?”

Light groaned around L’s cock, the vibrations from his throat sent a shiver up his spine and L suppressed a needy whine on his end. After years of doing this, Light knows exactly how to push him to the very edge-- to give him so much and yet not enough.

“‘ My memory gets a little fuzzy here, but Ryuzaki laid down on the desk, and he grabbed me by the thighs so hard I think I would have had bruises in reality. I grabbed him by the throat and rode him on the desk. A part of me was worried, because the conference room in the library was all glass, but also my head was so hazy and it felt so good.’” L pressed a thumb against his lips, “Had Light fucked himself on toys at this point?”

He pulled off of L, slowly stroking him as he thought about it, “I think at that time I had. I only realized I was not straight shortly after high school, and my sexual drive moved pretty fast after that.”

“‘Shortly after high school’, shortly after meeting me, right?” L smirked. Light opened his mouth to attempt a retort, but just narrowed his eyes.

“Such an egomaniac you are,” Light scoffed, “Not everything is about you.”

“No, not everything. But this is.” L reached under their bed and pulled out a box of toys and lube. He casually tossed the bottle and a large blue dildo in front of Light, “Stretch yourself open with that. I want to see you.”

“You don’t want to do it yourself?”

“Like you have earned that privilege yet.” L leaned forward (careful to not fall off the edge) and grabbed Light by the chin, forcing him to look L in the eye, “You’re going to open yourself up on that cock, and when your slutty hole is ready for me, you can ride me like in your fantasies.”

He could almost see the blood rushing to Light’s ears-- being literally talked down to-- condescended and scolded like a child. And yet, his pupils were blown all the way out, L barely seeing the amber color of Light’s eyes, and his jeans and underwear were, of course, already halfway to his ankles.

Light took the tip of the toy and fucked his mouth in and out with it, eyes never leaving L’s. He was already 3 fingers deep inside of himself, lewdly moaning around the cock very intentionally.

“This is a good look for you,” L remarked, breathily, slowly stroking his own cock.

Light suctioned the dick to the hardwood, and hovered over it, teasing his hole with the tip, “Well, if you are going to keep calling me a slut- fuck… I might as well lean into it.” Light bottomed out on the toy, one hand running through his hair, another sucking on two fingers as he slowly moved. Light, flushed and fucked out and using himself, was the pinnacle of sex and desire-- L began to question his decision about who exactly this was a punishment for.

“Ngh, this cock is so big , L… But it doesn’t feel nearly as good as yours.” Light dragged his teeth across the bottom of his lip, pointed looking at L’s cock, now leaking precum. Light knew he was getting to L. He knew exactly how he looked and exactly what L was thinking.

Fucker. Two can play at that.

L slowed down his own movements, raising an eyebrow at Light, “A common whore like yourself would be satisfied with any cock inside of him. You want mine so bad? Close your eyes, think…” L held the book open with one hand, “‘ I feel like I am going crazy. I am supposed to want this stupid bastard dead. And yet all I want right now are my hands on him and his on mine-’” Light groaned, finally touching his neglected aching cock, “‘-and it is so hard to focus on bringing him down, when the entire time I am dreaming about Ryuzaki’s voice in my ear, and my hands around his throat, and his tongue and mouth on me everywhere . I may just have to take care of him so I stop feeling this way... ’ My my, Kira... ” Light groaned at the name, “I thought you would be a bit more careful than to let your inner thoughts so out in the open like this. What would have happened if someone had gotten a hold of this?”

“I- Fuck- Academic rivalries are not uncommon....”

“I wanted to sentence you to death and you still could not stop thinking about me inside of you-”

“Oh shit L…”

“-or my hands on your cock or my fingers stretching you wide open. You still want me to whisper in your ear and moan , telling you what a good boy you are, right?”

“Yes… yes I want that L…”

L tutted, “And yet you aren’t a good boy. Desperate and begging… Writing down naughty thoughts and fantasies about someone who you wanted to die?” L shook his head, casually tossing the book aside. He reached for his own cock again, slowly stroking it watching Light fall apart, giving himself dual sensations, “Kira needs to make up his mind about what he wants. Because I don’t think he is good at all.”

“ L please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please let me on your cock.”

“Why would I allow that?”

Light stopped his movements on the dildo, only slowly stroking his cock at the same speed as L was his own, “I am not a good boy, I am a cock-slut for you, and only ever you. Fuck me please,” Light begged, broken and desperate.

L stood up and grabbed Light’s hands, pulling him off of the toy. He brushed the hair out of Light’s eyes and pulled Light on top of him, “So good, Kira. You don’t have to be a good boy for me, you can just be my good slut.”

He kissed L, hard, biting his bottom lip as he lined himself up on L’s dick and sunk down on him.

“ Fuck, you feel so much better than that cheap plastic,” Light straddled L properly, pressing his hands against L’s chest as he rode him, not wasting anytime picking up speed.

“Such a good whore for me, Kira,” L said, kissing his wrist, “You really do ride cock like you get paid to do it.”

“I know,” Light said, breathy and fucked.

L huffed, “A bit cocky, aren-”

“Now it’s your turn to shut up,” Light said, pressing down on L’s pressure points, his fingertips pushing hard enough into his throat it will surely leave marks against his pale skin.

L’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and Light moved his hips faster, L snapping back up to meet his thrusts, which quickly became sloppy as black dots began dancing in the corners of his eyes and his lungs started burning. His eyes welled up with tears and his entire body was on fire, his limbs going limp. He felt the white, hot edge so close and tangible. Every thrust felt like a rattle of electricity hitting every nerve and every part of his consciousness so closely and he just needed more -- Light relented, moving his hands away from his throat. L eyes snapped open wide and he coughed, taking heavy breaths. Tears fell from the corners of his eyes, and he dug his fingertips into Light’s waist, harshly grabbing him by the hips.

“L? I’m sorry, you told me you would tap out if-”

“Kira, more-- again-- now.” L commanded, and Light did not hesitate. He grabbed him by the throat and put his fingers in L’s mouth for good measure. Light was riding him with expert pace and precision, his lower body strength and years of running paying off. L’s legs trembled, and he used the last bit of his unfucked mind to dig his nails into Light’s hips and rock him faster and faster on his cock, reaching that beautiful and terrible and intense edge.

“ Ah- L! ” Light comes only a few seconds before L himself, moaning around Light’s fingers as he loosened his grip, but still only letting a fraction of the air healthy for the human brain into his head.

Light did not move himself off of L immediately. He moved his hand away from his throat, but kept small pressure on his neck with one of his thumbs.

“What are you doing?” L muttered. Light said nothing. L opened his eyes, tapping him. “Light?”

Light blinked, looking back, “Sorry, was feeling your pulse.”

“Why?”

“Wanted to make sure I didn’t kill you.”

L smiled softly, “Don’t want me dead anymore?”

“Sometimes. Certainly not like this, it’s too personal.”

“What, killing me while my cock is in your ass is too close for comfort?”

“Something like.” Light smirked and pressed a soft kiss against L’s lips.

After cleaning up, Light told L he wanted to burn the dream journal to prevent further embarrassment.

“Over my dead body.” L said, holding the notebook just out of reach.

Light smirked, “I have no problem arranging that.”

#my writing #lawlight #light yagami #l lawliet #death note #prompt fills #asks #bored-bitch-stuff #more writing to come!#also I apologize that this is so long and it took so long to write ;-;#but either way!!#enjoy!!

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