#and that haunts their psyche for the rest of their lives regardless

[luscinai]

meta + justice.

i'll make a new post to elaborate further on lucille's childhood later, but to understand her brand of justice, it's important to keep in mind that she's first and foremost a victim. her entire life was decided to be bereft of normalcy the second she was taken away as a newborn straight into the labs.

her first experience with justice wasn't actually justice, but vengeance. she's been raised to be a weapon by her lab, from power to skill, and it's also with those skills that she killed most of the researchers involved. she didn't know what she was doing. all she knew is all her fellow girls are all dead, whether from the sexual abuse or the experimentation or straight up killed. their anger became her anger, and with that anger, she made a choice.

under kate's tutelage, she learned what the bats' justice means. to save good people and punish the bad. put them in jail, make them hurt, but they're not here to kill them.

lucille wasn't sure if she fully agrees. she does believe in second chances, but what about those who didn't value that second chance ? those who got away with harming children, of harming the innocent, leaving scars and dead bodies in their path ?

what about girls like her ?

make no mistake, lucille isn't one to kill needlessly. she doesn't enjoy taking lives nor is she anywhere near arrogant enough to think she could play judge and jury.

she is, however, an executioner.

at the end of the day, she's still a bat as much as the rest of the clan, yes. she also understands the consequences if she's ever found with blood on her hands. but this is her justice—hers is a blade to be offered to victims like her, to allow them a chance to fight back. hers is a chance for them to be set free and never be afraid of being hurt the same way again.

[ META ] + ANYTHING | accepting !

[sea-lanterns]

HALLOWEEN

synopsis: (slasher! AU) an escaped psych ward patient wants to see you again.

featuring: shenhe

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, mentions of murder, knives, stalking, breaking and entering, house invasion, size k.ink, size difference, praise, manhandling, oral (reader recieving), wall se.x, grinding, hump.ing, ni.pple sucking, ni.pple biting, hickies, marking, possessiveness, pwp, not proofread.

art credits: high rise invasion

“Hehe, I win!”

“Great job, Yaoyao!”

You smiled and pat Yaoyao on the head while her older sister Qiqi clapped quietly in praise. Although it was Halloween night, you spent your time babysitting your neighbor’s kids, as he had to go out unexpectedly to run some last minute errands. Though most adults your age would find this kind of thing “boring” and “a waste of a Halloween night,” you actually enjoyed babysitting Baizhu’s kids, as you practically raised them as an older sister from the time they were basically infants. 

At the moment, you were currently playing board games with the two girls, after a long night of watching kids’ Halloween movies and helping them with their homework. It was almost nearing the girls’ bedtime at this point, so you made a note to yawn and pretend like you were tired.

“Oh man…I’m all tired you guys…” you said with a smile, looking up at the clock. “I think it’s time for bed.”

“Awe…” Yaoyao pouted, but began cleaning up the games regardless. 

“Does this mean you’re leaving soon?” Qiqi inquired in a quieter voice, looking hesitant to let you go. “Is Papa home yet? I don’t wanna go to bed until Papa is home.” 

“Papa will be home soon. It’s almost nine.” You say reassuringly, giving Qiqi a small head pat before going over to the kitchen to pour Qiqi’s glass of coconut milk. “Come here and get your coco milk.” You say softly, peeking your head through the door. “Yaoyao, why don’t you go put on your PJs while I serve your sister her milk.”

“Okay!” Yaoyao exclaimed, running up the stairs while Qiqi quietly walked into the kitchen. She had a habit of drinking a cold glass of coconut milk every night before bed, so you opened up the fridge to grab the carton, before seeing Qiqi plop herself at the table. 

“…Big Sister.” Qiqi said in a monotone voice, catching your attention as you poured the milk into a glass. 

“Hm?” You glanced over, slightly distracted as she called you by your nickname. 

“…Is it true that the boogeyman exists?” She asks in a softer voice, her head resting on the table with a small look of worry in her eyes. “One of the kids at school said that the boogeyman was a tall man, whose face was as white as a sheet.” 

She turned her head and pointed to the abandoned house across the street, the one where the infamous murder incident took place over twenty something years ago. “They say that he lived in that house before he got taken away. That he murdered his father as a young boy…is it true?”

You froze when she said all this, not expecting Qiqi of all people to ask you about the murder case that happened about twenty something years ago. You were practically a kid when the news story made headlines, but as much as the story haunted you till this day, you didn’t want to scare the girl with a story that could potentially give her nightmares. 

“No, Qiqi honey.” You say in a soothing tone, handing her the glass of coconut milk and rubbing her head. “That’s just a Halloween story. The boogeyman doesn’t exist.”

‘It was a boogeywoman.’ You couldn’t help but think, as you shuddered just looking back at the old abandoned house. Years ago, a young girl was the perpetrator of a murder case back when you were just a child. It was the talk of the town, the story of the infamous young girl; Shenhe, who brutally murdered her father in that house and was sent to a psychiatric institution with a case of homicidal tendencies. 

You remember that day like it was yesterday, as Shenhe was actually one of your friends back when you were in elementary school. It was hard to believe such a quiet and mature girl could be the person behind slaughtering a full grown man, and while it was terrifying, you couldn’t help but feel upset that your friend had to be taken away. 

“…Big sister, you spilled some coco milk on your shirt.” Qiqi said in a monotone voice, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Wha—” you looked down and saw that you had accidentally spilled some coconut milk all over your clothes. 

“Oh…shoot!” You couldn’t help but exclaim, nearly cursing before remembering that you were in the prescience of a child. “Ah…sorry. I must’ve been lost in thought for too long.”

You set the carton back into the fridge and tried cleaning out the milk stain with a wet napkin and some soap. It was no use, the stain was simply too big and since you were wearing a white shirt, it looked translucent when in a brightly illuminated area for too long.

“…Big sister, I can see your—”

“Yes Qiqi, I know.” 

You sighed and walked over to your backpack to grab a spare change of clothes. “Luckily for me however, I am always prepared!” You held up an old T-shirt you had brought and showed it off to Qiqi. “Cool, right? Now, since you’ve finished your milk, why don’t you head upstairs and join your sister in going to bed? I have to change before the smell of milk stays on me.” 

Qiqi nods and gets out of her chair to make her way upstairs, leaving you to change in the kitchen as you sigh and begin stripping out of your clothes, already tired from today’s activities. As you removed your shirt however, you failed to notice a masked woman staring at you from behind the window, watching you as you removed the stained T-shirt and slid the new one on. 

Her heavy breathing fogged up the window while she watched you intently. Sharp, iridescent eyes trailing over the curves of your figure, before quickly moving away when you glanced back to look at the window. 

“…Hm.” You stared at the window for a few more seconds before turning away, cleaning up some of the plates off the table as the masked woman watched you from outside. It had been…so long since she had last seen you, so many years of isolation and she finally had the chance to see you again after being taken away to be locked like a prisoner for her own misdeeds. 

“…Mine.” The masked woman mumbled to herself, watching you with need before quickly scrambling away when the headlights of a car pulled into the driveway.

As you finished cleaning up some of the dishes, you heard the sound of keys jingling into the lock before Baizhu’s familiar footsteps entered the house. “I’m home…!” He exclaims jovially, the sounds of tiny footsteps running down the stairs, as Yaoyao and Qiqi —now in their PJs— ran to greet their Papa before heading to bed.

“Baizhu!” You exclaim with a smile.

“Papa!” Both Qiqi and Yaoyao exclaim, running up to him and hugging him on each leg. 

“Oof…easy there…my blood pressure is gonna spike…” he groans, giving the two girls a pat on the head before glancing over at you. 

“Hey…how were they?” 

“As easy as every other time.” You say with a chuckle, before beginning to put on your coat. 

“Ah, I’m glad.” Baizhu says with a smile, nudging his two daughters to face you. “Well, what do you say girls?”

“Thank you Big Sister…!” Qiqi and Yaoyao speak at the same time. 

“Anytime.” You chuckle, saying your final goodbyes to the two girls, as they head upstairs to finally head to bed. This left you with Baizhu as you got ready to head home, making sure everything was packed in your bag and nothing was left behind. 

“Stay safe out there, it can get pretty dangerous late at night,” Baizhu hums as he counts the money in his wallet to give to you. “I heard rumors of an escapee from the psychiatric facility a few miles down from here. The police are tracking the escaped patient, but it’s best to get home quickly for your own safety.” 

Your heart sunk at the impending news, the same psychiatric facility where your childhood friend was locked up for murdering her father. It couldn’t be a coincidence, surely. 

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to head home fast.” You say with a nod, taking the money before stuffing it in your pocket. “Have a nice night, Mr. Baizhu, and have a wonderful Halloween.”

“You too.” Baizhu nods, allowing you to exit his home as you begin walking down the block to your own house. You didn’t live too far from the Baizhu family residence, yet walking down the block all alone on a late Halloween night was not really the ideal situation for you to be in. Especially considering the news of the escaped patient that Baizhu notified you about. 

“Geez, how eerie…” you mumbled to yourself, glancing up at the abandoned house Shenhe used to live in, and being reminded of your childhood together before she was taken away. 

Shenhe was such a sweet and quiet girl —at least to you— and you had such fond memories of playing with her everyday after school until it was so late into the evening you could see stars. You had no idea she was capable of such brutal, homicidal tendencies, yet perhaps you’ve misjudged her, and maybe she really was just a sociopath after all…

You shook your head at the thought. No, it can’t be. Shenhe was always so sweet to you. Perhaps one day she just snapped and was—

You stopped walking when you heard the sound of footsteps behind you. A shiver running down your spine as you slowly turned around and saw a tall, masked woman standing just several feet away.

“O-Oh!” You flinched a little and backed up a bit when you saw her. Her tall, looming figure made you feel small, as she towered over you like you were nothing but a mouse ready for her to step on. “Ah…sorry, you startled me a bit…” you say with a nervous chuckle, holding onto your backpack straps with worry. “I uh…I like your costume…”

The masked woman tilted her head slightly, staring at you with familiar, iridescent eyes that had you squinting for a closer look. ‘Why do they look so familiar…?’

“…Uhm.” When the woman did not respond, you looked around awkwardly before getting an idea. 

“Oh! Are you…trick or treating?” You ask with a smile, reaching into your pocket to pull out a small, wrapped mint. “Sorry I don’t have anything else, but I hope this is enough to suffice!”

You hesitantly walk closer to hold out the candy to the woman, whose body stiffens up when you offer her the small, wrapped treat. You may have forgotten after all these years, but her favorite candy was actually small mints, and the fact you still carried around mints to this day had her heart beating sporadically out of her chest.

‘She’s still as nice as ever…’ the masked woman thought as she slowly looked down and stared at the wrapped mint with amusement. Carefully, she takes it out of your hand, her much larger fingers brushing over your palm and causing you to shiver. 

“Ah…your hand is quite cold…” you couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling your arm back to keep it at your side. “Don’t stay out too long, it’s dangerous late at night. Stay safe out there, okay?” You smile sweetly at the masked woman and the sight has her blushing underneath her rubber mask. She had forgotten how sweet and beautiful you were after years of not seeing you, and she wanted nothing more than to keep you by her side for as long as she possibly could. 

“…Thank you.” She says in a muffled voice, your pulse jumping at how unexpectedly deep and husky it was. 

“You’re welcome!” You respond with a smile, giving her a polite bow before making your way back to your house. Though your initial encounter may have spooked you a little bit, all you could think about was just how cute the masked woman was. 

‘Ahhhh I should’ve asked for her number or something!’ You groaned inwardly, calling yourself pathetic in several different languages before pulling out the keys to your house. ‘Oh well, it’s a small town. Maybe I’ll see her again…’

Or tonight, considering you failed to notice the woman still stalking you from the shadows as you headed into your house rather blindly. Shutting the door behind you and heading inside to kick off your shoes, hang up your coat, and go to bed since you were aching for a good night’s rest before work tomorrow. 

“Ugh…” you trudged up the stairs to head to your room, plopping on the bed and taking a breather before mustering up the strength to do grown-up things like shower and eat a decent meal like a responsible adult. It took quite a bit of mental encouragement to get up from the heavenly abyss of your bed, but soon enough, you rolled off the covers and began digging through your dressers to find a nice clean pair of PJs to change into. 

After finding a decent set, you got up and began making your way to the bathroom, humming a small tune to yourself and locking yourself in the bathroom. As you did this however, the door to your house slowly creaked open, the tall, masked woman from earlier making her way inside as her only goal for tonight was to see you again. 

And hopefully make you hers.

She took a brief walk around your house, tilting her head at the various knick knacks and items scattered around your house before making her way upstairs. She heard the sounds of a shower being turned on and decided to surprise you by hiding in your bedroom closet. She couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you saw her again, the poor woman practically trembling with excitement as she stuffed her larger body into such a small space. 

Now, all she had to do was wait. 

And wait.

…And wait. 

And wait as she did, but the woman was beginning to feel incredibly cramped as she stood in your closet door for what seemed like eternity (even though it had only been ten minutes) 

Feeling a bit bored, the woman slowly exited the room and was about to walk down the hall, when she came face to face with just you in a towel. The moment you locked eyes on each other, you screamed and nearly dropped your towel out of fear, almost flashing yourself at the other woman as she scrambled to keep you calm. 

Before you could start running, the woman quickly ran up to you and suddenly picked you up in a hug that had your legs dangling in the air due to her strength. 

“H-Holy shit—!”

“Quiet…Quiet…”

The woman pressed a comforting hand on your head and began petting you in soft, yet sturdy strokes. Her other arm had muffled your screaming as she tried her best to silence your fears, pleading for you to stay quiet so you didn’t alert the neighbors with your cries. 

“Mmmpf! Hnnn!” You squirmed in her grasp but it was no use. The woman holding onto you had some sort of freakish strength that kept you from making even the slightest of movements, causing you to flip out even more as you realized this might be the end. 

‘I’m gonna die. Oh my fucking god I’m gonna die!’ You were so close to tears and continued trying to fight for your life. Squirming and thrashing around like a fish out of water, before suddenly being pinned to the wall to stop your flailing. 

“Mmpf!”

“Quiet…!” 

The masked woman spoke in a rough, yet somewhat familiar tone. Her larger body pinning you to the wall as she kept a firm hand over your mouth to successfully gag you from screaming any unwanted sounds. 

‘I’m so dead…I’m so dead…!’ You screamed with your eyes closed, mentally preparing yourself for the worst, only to have the killer…suddenly hug you?

At the feeling of the masked woman’s arms embracing you like an old friend, your body tensed up as she leaned forward to bury her face into your shoulder, as if she didn’t just scare the shit out of you moments prior. 

“Ah…h-hah…wha…” 

“Mine.”

You heard the woman grumble the word like it was a fact, pushing you further against the wall. Your heart was still beating sporadically out of your chest from all the adrenaline, but something in the tone of her voice made you shiver with a strange nostalgia you had no idea you had.

“Mine.” The woman repeated once more, the screams in your throat dying down to a pathetic whimper. “Don’t go.”

“Aha…hah…” Was this hysteria? Were you finally beginning to lose it? 

“Don’t scream.” The woman says in a quiet groan, stroking the back of your head. “I missed you.”

“Wh-What…?” You were beginning to wonder if you were losing it, body trembling like a feather as she continued delivering soft and gentle strokes to the back of your head. Was this woman insane?! I mean, she was stalking you and breaking into your house, but perhaps this was the patient that escaped the psychiatric facility…?

“…U-Uhm…can you let me down…?” You ask in a shaky voice, too afraid to scream any more as the knife she had fastened to her jumpsuit paralyzed you with fear. 

“…Okay.”

Sensing that you won’t run away, the tall woman plopped you down like an obedient dog dropping a toy. You were shocked to say the least at how easily she complied, but didn’t want to question it as you stood there, trapped against the wall in nothing but a towel while you stared your house invader down. “…Wh-Why’re you here?” You ask with a bit of reluctance, pulling your towel up so it wouldn’t accidentally drop. 

“…I missed you.” The woman says again, keeping her head down as she stares at you through the eye holes of her mask.

“Well, you can’t just follow me home and break in…” You mumble politely, “It’s illegal…”

“It is?” The woman tilted her head and looked slightly upset. “I’m sorry…” 

Your eyes widened when she suddenly hugged you again, body tensing up as her muscular frame practically engulfed yours. “H-Hey now…” you froze under her grip and felt how easy it was for her to snap you like a twig. “Do you…uhm, have somewhere else to go?” 

The woman shakes her head no. 

“Ah…okay…” you wanted to call the police more than anything, but something in the back of your mind was screaming for you not to. Instead, all that was going on in your mind, was who it was behind the mask. 

“…Can I…see who you are at least?” You ask in a quiet tone, wondering why this random stalker took such a liking to you after all you did was give them a candy. “I want to know…who it is I’m talking to.”

The masked woman pauses at your statement, slowly leaning back and staring at you with those familiar, iridescent eyes. At first, you think she’s mad at you with how quiet she was being all of a sudden, but then you see her hand reach up to pull at the latex of her mask. 

Your breath hitches when the mask slides off to reveal a matured, much older, and familiar face of your childhood friend; Shenhe, who got taken away from you all those years ago. She never changed a bit, and with the way she was looking down at you, you realized you had reunited with her after so many years of disappearance.

“Shenhe…” you breathed out after a moment of silence, eyes trailing over the contours of her face before settling on her eyes. “It’s you?”

She nods at your response, almost excited in a way as she was happy to know you remembered her. “Yes, it is me.” 

She could barely contain herself as she moved forward to hug you once more, spooking you as she lifted you off the ground with ease. Shenhe was always strong as a kid, however; you had no idea she would be this strong as an adult, as she could practically split a man’s skull open like a pumpkin. 

“Oh!” You let out a yelp when she scooped you up in her arms, all fears of a home invader leaving your head, as all you could think about was the fact that your childhood friend was back and wanted to visit you.

“I missed you.” Shenhe repeated against your ear, voice gravelly and rich with the way she purred. “That’s why I escaped.”

“You— You escaped the psychiatric facility?” You mumble in disbelief. “Just to see me again?”

Shenhe nodded like an innocent child, burying her face into your shoulder and inhaling your soft, shampoo-like scent. “I wanted to see what was mine again…”

Your face flushed at those words and you couldn’t help but be reminded of your old, puppy love crush on the woman back when you two were just children. You knew this woman was capable of homicidal tendencies and yet, despite seeing a killer; all you could feel was your friend. 

And you wanted this friend to be yours too.

“…Okay.” You whisper in a shaky tone, hesitantly hugging Shenhe back as she nuzzles her face deeper against your neck, her hot breath tickling the skin of your ear and making it difficult to control the strange arousing feeling beginning to stir in the depth of your core. “I can keep you here for a bit, Shenhe. Just until you can manage on your own.” 

You had no idea why you were doing this, but allowing a killer to stay in your home was not the best idea. Nevertheless, Shenhe was ecstatic and she suddenly leaned in to kiss your cheek out of appreciation for what you were doing. The moment her lips planted on your face, you froze and almost dropped your towel completely out of shock.

“Oh.” Shenhe stopped when your towel moved lower and accidentally revealed your breasts, the tall woman’s face flushing pink at the sight, before glancing away in embarrassment. 

‘Oh…’ your hands quickly pulled the towel back up, yet when you looked up to see Shenhe’s reaction to the accidental flash, you saw her looking away, but also not-so-subtly trying to sneak an extra peak. 

‘Wow, I did not expect Shenhe to be such a closet pervert…’ you thought to yourself, smiling a bit cheekily and laughing to yourself. “Shenhe, it’s okay, we’re both girls. I mean, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“But I haven’t seen it before…” Shenhe mumbles ever so quietly, iridescent eyes slowly taking up your figure. “Your body…is so pretty.”

Aaaaand that’s how she managed to seduce you. All it took was for your pretty childhood best friend to say your body was pretty and bam, your heart began to flutter with newfound feelings for the killer. 

“I could…show you more if you’d like,” you chuckle a bit teasingly, wondering how far Shenhe would push the limits.

“You would?” She looked intrigued and leaned a little forward. “Can I see?” 

Your eyes widened at her boldness, before deciding to see where this goes and chuckling. 

“Alright…” 

As it turns out, Shenhe was a lot bolder than you took her for, as the moment you dropped the towel to reveal your entire body, Shenhe had you pinned against the wall and her lips sucking on your chest. You weren’t sure how you got here, as every second with Shenhe was a blur, but you knew for one thing that you were enjoying it.

“Hah…eager aren’t we?” You teased a bit light-heartedly, groaning a little when Shenhe bit on a nipple. “Nngh…gentle now, Shenhe. You have to be gentle with a woman…”

“‘M sorry…” she mumbles against your chest, trying to kiss your nipple better.

“Hah…it’s okay.” You whisper reassuringly, petting her long, white hair like she was a rabbit. “Is this your first time? I assume it’s not often you sleep with someone in a psych ward…”

She nods hesitantly and hides her face in your chest. 

“Pfft…” you missed this. You missed the feeling of your friend laying on your chest and whispering with you like you were the only two people in the world. “It’s okay…do you want me to guide you?” 

Shenhe nods again. You swear, if it weren’t for the news articles and details of her homicidal tendencies, you would’ve thought Shenhe was the sweetest girl on earth incapable of murder. 

“You’re so sweet…” you murmur into Shenhe’s ear, watching as the tips of her ears turn pink. “Do you wanna go to my bedroom so it’s easier?”

Shenhe shakes her head no, pushing you further against the wall. “I want to touch you here.” She mumbles under her breath. “I want to take you here. I don’t want to move.” 

A jolt of heat pushes through your body and you feel yourself dripping just at how direct she was. For someone so innocent and charming, you really did not expect Shenhe of all people to be so good at dirty talk…

“Aha…are you sure? The floor is kinda hard so it’ll be uncomfortable. I’d say a bed would be better as it— OH!” Shenhe suddenly lifted you up with ease and shoved you against the wall, your legs dangling over her forearms as she pressed her body closer to you. 

Where on earth did she learn this position?!

“Sh-Shenhe, this position—” you flinched as your legs were spread and the bare skin of your cunt brushed against Shenhe’s rough jumpsuit, the position making you blush as you were left vulnerable to whatever Shenhe had in mind for you tonight. 

“…I like this position.” Shenhe said after some time, practically folding you to her liking and leaning in for a kiss. Your eyes widened as you tasted the familiar freshness of peppermint, and realized Shenhe had eaten the mint you had given to her prior to meeting her. ‘So sweet…’ Shenhe couldn’t help but think, trying to shove her tongue in your mouth and taste some more of what your body had to offer. 

“Mmpf…hnn…” your moans were muffled by her tongue and you couldn’t help but close your eyes as she began adjusting your legs to wrap around her waist. Once she had you wrapped firmly around her, Shenhe began to move her hands all over your body, searching, squeezing, trying to find that one spot that would have you whimpering out her name. 

“I want…I want more…” Shenhe pants out like a dog, nudging your legs further as she begins grinding her hips against yours. “Want more…want— n-need more…”

At the sudden grinding sensations you threw your head back and nearly hit your head against the wall. The rough cloth of her jumpsuit moving against you so well it had you writhing in her arms, Shenhe’s brutal ruts making it seem like she was trying to envision herself having a strap, as she was panting rather loudly with the sight of you all naked against her.  

“Sh-Shenhe…I think– hah… it’d be better if you took that jumpsuit off…”

Despite your pathetic pleas, your words fell on deaf ears as poor Shenhe was too caught up in her pleasure to even hear you. You just looked so perfect and pliable for her to maneuver, her feelings of missing you all these years starting to cloud her thoughts, as she leaned in to claim your neck as hers and hers alone. 

“Mine…mine…mine…” you hear her grunt into your ear, teeth grabbing at your skin and pinching it so hard it left a mark. “Shenhe! Gentle, baby. Gentle…” you whimper in a smaller voice, gasping with the amount of hickies she was starting to suck onto you, as it seemed a switch had flipped in your sweet, innocent Shenhe. 

“S-Slow down, please…” you whine into her ear, pulling something feral out of Shenhe as she decided this position wasn’t enough. She needed more. She craved more. 

And you were going to give it to her. 

In one quick motion, Shenhe crouched down for a moment before lifting your legs over her shoulders and having you practically straddle her face. You nearly screamed when she did this, her body keeping you upright as your legs dangled in the air, even higher than you were before. 

“Shenhe this is dangerous what’re you–”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when Shenhe began lapping at your clit, her tongue darting out with hunger as she tasted your glistening folds for the very first time. 

“Stay…still…” Shenhe practically growls as she keeps you balanced with just her strength alone. You had no idea how she was capable of such impressive feats, yet you weren’t complaining when her tongue was so wet and (somehow) so experienced.

Or many Shenhe was just really, really horny. Who knows. But either way, you were laying on cloud nine as Shenhe nudged her cold little nose onto the button of your clit. Strong hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs and leaving small nail indents in your skin that would surely leave a mark when you woke up in the morning. 

“Shenhe…Shenhe oh god…” your legs were trembling from the constant pleasure as Shenhe continued thrusting her tongue with insatiable hunger, her face practically glistening with your juices as a sex-drunk expression glazed over her face. 

“More…I want more…” she groans in a huskier tone, practically burying her face into your cunt and drinking up all the cum that was leaking out of you, too pussy drunk to even think. 

“Shenhe please…” you whined as you gripped her hair with your fingers. “Put me down I can’t…I can’t take it anymore…”

“No, you can.” She groans in response to your whining, pushing you further into the wall as she lapped up your sex like it was her last meal. “Just stay still, stay still.”

At her deafening command, you whimpered and let her take the reins as she coursed her tongue through each crevice and corner of your folds. You’ve never heard or seen Shenhe act so possessive before, but the feeling of being all hers, and only hers, had you nearing your orgasm sooner than you expected. 

“Go on…I want to taste it.” Shenhe says rather directly, giving your right thigh a squeeze. “I want to taste you.”

“Shenhe…” you groaned, feeling your stomach tighten. “You— nngh…”

You arched your back off the wall and gripped Shenhe’s shoulders tightly, cum starting to spill down your thighs and onto Shenhe’s awaiting tongue. Eagerly, she lapped up any stray droplets she could catch, savoring the flavor of your release like it was a fine wine she could ever hope to taste again. 

“Goodness…” you panted, catching your breath as Shenhe continued to clean up any traces of cum left on your hips. “Shenhe you…are you sure you’re a virgin?”

She nodded obediently, kissing the inside of your thigh before marking it with her teeth. 

“Oh wow…” you couldn’t help but tiredly laugh, petting Shenhe like the good girl she was and kissing the top of her head. “You’re really good, you know that?” 

Shenhe beamed at the praise and continued kissing the inside of your thighs before setting you down in her arms and carrying you to the bedroom. “I…I can please you more,” she murmurs in a rather pleading way, looking almost like a puppy getting ready to serve their master. “Please let me please you more.”

“Gosh, round two?” You chuckled, clinging to her arms as she brought you to your room. “Ah, why not. I’m sure you have enough stamina to go all night, hm?”

Shenhe nodded eagerly and set you down on your bed, climbing over on top of you before kissing the base of your neck and whispering under your ear. “I can go all night if you want.”

“Really?” You chuckle back in a whisper, bringing her down by the neck and kissing the side of her cheek. “Well, if that’s the case…”

“Happy Halloween, Shenhe.”

[yrotic11]

Having generational planets in the 4th house could mean your house is haunted/you might’ve lived in a haunted house at least once in your life☠️OR you’re attracted to haunted homes

Generational planets are: Pluto, Uranus, Neptune.

PLUTO

Pluto- the literal under world. Silent hill vibes. The spirits that come to your home may be doing so after having days months years or even decades of treading the earth likely not even realizing they’re actually dead. They go to your home to meet hades to pass into the underworld after much time of unrest. You won’t literally see it (or maybe you could idk) but that’s what’s going on in the unseen side. Spirits come to REST at your house..probably not peacefully but more so necessarily. It can take on Uranus like characteristics where…in the most extreme cases the spirits in your house might mark on your walls /note on paper with threatening messages because their spirit is not at peace and they feel the need to torment you as a result. This is very general of course and for a specific set of people BUT generally speaking spirits will and DO pass through your house. The traumatized kind, the dark figure looking kinds. The perhaps maybe even evil kinds. … a very traumatic event likely happened on the property you grew up in before you came and lived in it and the energy just stayed there. Or you’re prone to harboring your home spaces in places like that without you even knowing. You might live near a cemetery with this Pluto house placement too . Pluto is the higher octave of mars so those violent threatening spirits are possible but are not limited to. Traumatized spirits might find solace in your presence.

NEPTUNE

Neptune- very hazy dreamy and spirits galore. Your home might literally calm spirits. In the flesh and out. So in real life humans can also even feel like they can wind right down to the core of their soul when they enter your house. It has a pixie spiritual vibe to it. I won’t say more “lighter” entities come to your house ;Neptune is more classical spirit related energy so anything is possible but normal regular spirits are more common than the more darker crazy kinds like Pluto—- but those Plutonian coated spirits will only come about if YOU actually make the effort to bring them in like say a ritual or something. But you’re more likely to have normal spirits/spirts of any kinds. And spirits like angels etc honestly anything. Neptune is the higher octave of Venus very endearing spirits may find themselves in your home.

URANUS

Uranus- the literal extraterrestrial. Home is likely very unique the spirits you attract in your house are also unique probably more chaotic/ won’t be afraid to throw a plate across the house/ play on a piano and open your water faucet or open your doors in more extreme cases. There’s an almost unRested air to your house ,spirits in limbo might find themselves in your house while they try and figure out where the hell theyre at and why. Crazy things. I just heard psyche ward 😭😭maybe? The type of spirits that come to your house were psyche ward patients. Or Your 1st couple of years of life(inside your home) was very chaotic and unstable. Maybe had a lot of people passing in and out weather to crash out or like your parents offered them a place to live because they had no where else to go. You may even be that type of friend lmao. Might attract unstable people in your home/what you call a home is unstable. The fae is also possible here I feel like this Uranus house placement is more likely to experience spirits possessing their items and moving said item. Regardless the spirits are probably kind of crazy & maybe even very smart . Uranus is the higher octave of mercury so Einstein type spirits could find themselves in your home or as I said, the fae and may want to experiment how being a spirit is like with the items in your home🤣, like for example that water foucet example I gave earlier lol. You may also have spirits around you who want to teach you about how it is on the other side and help you understand the metaphysics.

[ojcobsessed]

Helming Jamie Childs' new crime-thriller, the actor talks tuning into a character, writing out their history and embracing the spontaneity of his own.

BY SOPHIE WANG

In early January 2022, as the rest of us added layer upon layer, watching the temperatures drop to zero, Oliver Jackson-Cohen travelled north of his London home and jumped bravely into the North Sea. “I’m really proud of the whole movie, but I’m quite proud that we all made it out alive, really,” he tells me nine months later, home safe with rays of morning sun separating us from the realities of his time filming, Jackdaw.

The debut feature from TV writer and director Jamie Childs (The Sandman, His Dark Materials), Jackdaw tells the story of Jackson-Cohen’s Jack Dawson, a former motocross champion and army veteran who, in an effort to support his younger brother, agrees to pick up a mysterious package in the North Sea, only to find himself tricked and his brother kidnapped. Subsequently, Jackdaw — as he’s better known — embarks on a one-night, breakneck journey through Northern England’s rust belt on his bike, reconnecting with his past as the subtleties in his complex backstory and familial history slowly unravel against a backdrop of nail-biting action.

The nuanced portrayal of such a character could possibly only be achieved by Jackson-Cohen, who seamlessly masters the art of tuning into his character’s psyche. Since a childhood trip to see Home Alone in the cinema, the 36-year-old has been fascinated by the possibility of disappearing into someone else’s world and delving into their stories. Subsequently booking his first job at 15 years old, the London native has spent the past decade and a half immersed in alternate worlds, from the horrors of 2018’s The Haunting of Hill House and 2020’s The Invisible Man to the post-WWII reality of Man in an Orange Shirt and the 19th-century Yorkshire of last year’s Emma Mackie-led, Emily. He mentions twice in our chat that at this point in his journey, he feels “like 150 years old”, and it’s hard to be surprised. Between time-travelling, fronting countless stories and embodying dozens of different people, he’s lived many lives.   “I always think it's quite funny that this passion was born as a kid and here I am as an adult doing it,” he laughs. “I do sometimes think: ‘Is that the smartest fucking thing?’ Because when you're a kid, you have all of these ideas and they're not the smartest ones.”

Though some of his childhood plays (written and directed by him and his friends) may have had “zero plot”, as Jackson-Cohen tells me, and it took him a bit of time in his early twenties to figure out the projects that would resonate with him, it is safe to say that his childhood dream was definitely not a bad idea. “I think with any passion that stems from childhood, the drive is so insane. I think with anything creative, you have to have this insane determination, regardless of where it stems from. It's just this weird drive forward that you kind of can't stop.” He pauses. “I feel like I've had many iterations of a career. I look back at the stuff I was doing in my early twenties and it was very much what I was told to be doing. I think it takes time to make mistakes and learn from those to actually find out what it is that resonates with you. Ultimately, I think it probably has something to do with exploring something that I'm not looking at in myself and being able to unlock that, to explore that with a character.”

Hearing this, it is easy to see why the Jackdaw lead would be a perfect fit for the role. However, he didn’t originally believe the part should be his. “I'd met Jamie Childs on a job I was on before and we got to know each other genuinely,” he explains. “He started to talk to me about this idea, this script that he was writing and when he was finished, he called me up and asked if I’d read it. Then he went, ‘Will you play Jackdaw?’ And I immediately said, ‘Jamie, I don't think I'm the right person for that. Do you know who you should hire? You should hire this person.’ And he was like, ‘No.’ And I was like, ‘No, do you know what? You should hire this person...’ And I kept throwing ideas at him.” Eventually, perhaps after exhausting every other option for Childs, the actor agreed and dove headfirst into the lead, making it implausible that his alternative suggestion could have embodied it so definitively.

“I feel like all of us jumped in because of our belief in Jamie,” he says. “And I think to have your protagonist be someone that is flawed and vulnerable and not your [stereotypical] sort of action hero was such a clever move on his end. It just felt like nothing I'd ever been a part of before. And there was something in that script about someone feeling like there isn't a place where they belong and being thrown into a position of having to care for someone and the tragedy that's gone on with their mum… all of that became a really interesting thing to play around with.”

Building out a character’s story is one of the most exciting parts of the job for Jackson-Cohen. With Jackdaw, this meant lots of meetings and discussions with Childs and co-star Jenna Coleman, who plays his love interest, Bo. “We sat down and hashed out when they were together and how long they were together and what happened and when the last time they saw each other was,” he says. “I think what’s so clever with Jamie is that he doesn't really over-explain, but he drops these pebbles as you go. And I think they're quite effective. It’s like, you know Jack's been away in the army. You don't really know why, but whatever it was, it wasn't good. So it was trying to figure out, 'okay, what was it?' And I don't think you necessarily see it on screen, but for me, my favourite part of it is trying to write out a life for them.”

For Jackson-Cohen, with any story he portrays, getting into character isn’t necessarily about becoming someone else. Rather, it’s about tapping into what’s already within him. “It’s like when you're in a music studio,” he says. “You've got all those dials and it's about turning something up that exists within you that you don't necessarily tap into and turning certain other things down. It's all coming from you.”

“In real life, I rarely get emotional, and I think it's because I have this outlet,” he continues. “There's this space where you can go and it's safe to experience and feel all of this stuff. It’s this weird, playful safety bubble that you get to go off to and play around where, ultimately, it’s real in the moment, but it's not real in your life.”

However, sometimes his body doesn’t register the difference between his own experiences and those of his character. “I played a character in the past who was a heroin addict and that was really hard [to get out of] because you are left with this inherent heaviness of all the stuff that you've created and felt in your head,” he explains. “Or earlier this year, I did a film set around the beginning of the Holocaust. And so you’d come home at the end of the day and you’d know it's not real, but your body can't really tell the difference. So you get these weird sort of hangovers if it's incredibly heavy and emotional. You know it's not real, but your body's playing catch up.”

“The older I get, the more embarrassed I get to say that this is my job because it's such a fucking stupid job. But also, I absolutely love it.” He laughs. “I feel so unbelievably grateful that I get to do this as a job. I always eye-roll when actors say things like, ‘Oh, it's such a privilege,’ but I do feel incredibly grateful because I get to go off and explore these parts of humanity that I would never otherwise.”

While he might endeavour to plot out the history of his characters, Jackson-Cohen’s very much letting his own future write itself. “Part of the exciting thing about being an actor is that you don't really know what's going to come in or what you're going to read that's going to excite you. I want to be surprised. I'd love to work here, in small filmmaking, with first-time directors, telling stories that people may love or hate, anything that's trying to say something a little different.” He pauses. “But until I read it, I won't know.”

Jackdaw is out in UK cinemas now and Wilderness is available to watch on Prime Video!

[imreallyuncomfortable]

Verlin

Raised on the streets of Baldur's Gate, the only things that kept him alive were his silver tongue and quick fingers. An easy mark ended up costing him more than he ever expected. Regardless if this was punishment from the gods or his first blessing, one thing became abundantly clear. Friends in low places can get you anything.

Besides, how often do you actually get to cozy up to a tanar'ri prince?

Aious

Mantras slip from the Tiefling's lips as he battles the depraved thoughts that threaten to overtake his mind. His monk training helps with resisting the urges, but memories of the past will cling to his psyche for the rest of his life. Who were they? Why doesn't he remember? Did they always know? Why didn't they run?

------

I'm finally getting around to playing Baldur's Gate 3 and I wanted to share my Tav & Durge. I tried to keep this spoiler free, but I'm only up to act 2 so filling in info about my durge was kinda hard due to lack of in-game information.

--

My Tav is an urchin half wood-elf fiend warlock. His pact with Graz'zt is mostly for the demon lord's entertainment and pleasure, but Virlen gets to live the life of luxury he always desired, and he gets to get revenge on the socialites who turned their nose up at him all those years ago. Once he gets this pesky tadpole out of his head he'll go back manipulating the elites of the city towards their own hedonistic self-demise. Or that was the plan, before he grew close to a certain cleric... after all, they could make each other so much better, or so much worse.

He has bonded the best with Shadowheart due to their similar moral compass, they have shared multiple glasses of wine.

He is good friends with Karlach because he feels a kindred spirit in her.

Recently he has been having...thoughts about a certain druid. It doesn't help that his partner and graz'zt are basically begging him to indulge.

His fiend eye only appears when he is calling on his most powerful warlock abilities or Graz'zt wants to "borrow" his eyes.

He has a cute quasit familiar

--

My Durge is a tiefling monk who is trying to resist his urges. Much of his past is blank to him, but one thing haunts his memories. The faces of his victims. He feels safest in the shadows, but when he's there he finds himself reaching for the light. A certain warlock certainly knows how to deal with a bad hand, maybe he could learn a thing or two from him.

Aious has closest affinity with Wyll. He admires the warlock's courage to do right & remain just without regards to his personal safety.

He has a rocky relationship with Astarion. They don't often agree on courses of action, but they see the hidden secrets hidden behind eachother's eyes. They have a smidge of pity for each other, despite what their bickering might entail.

He also feels a strong bond with Lae'Zel. He enjoys her pragmatism and he finds that she can help calm his over-active imagination that often gets distracted by his emotions.

[dxckinson]

who  :  agent faulkner, @faulknxr

where  :  agent dickinson's living quarters

when  :  march 13, 1994, 6:35 AM

The golden light from the spring sun gently spilled into Agent Dickinson’s quarters through a pair of partially closed curtains. In the still darkened expanse of the bedroom, a kaleidoscope of colors danced across the walls, the light shifting between the warm rays of natural light and the prismatic hues not normally seen by the naked eye. The ribbons of colors shimmered and twirled as if dancing, distorted through a crystal glass wind chime that hung across from the apartment’s central cooling vent. The gentle whooshing of the climate-controlled air and the soft tinkling of the translucent glass beads that swayed in the breeze were both drowned out by the incessant treble of a shrieking radio alarm clock that sat atop a cluttered bedside table.

In the queen-sized mattress next to the nightstand, Agent Dickinson let out a strained curse before he pressed his face deeper into the mattress; the pillow that had been his head rest the night before was folded in half to cover both ears in a vain attempt to muffle the sound. While turning off the alarm would be easier than pretending it didn’t exist, the pounding in his head made the very act of reaching out to shut it off seem utterly impossible.

But he knew he needed to get up; he was running late, and Faulkner was waiting.

Dickinson’s heart clenched behind its cage of flesh and bone, erratically thumping out of rhythm, haunted by some peculiar, misplaced pseudesthesia. The fuzzy remnants of a dream—a nightmare, really—clung to the edges of his subconscious. Stubborn and sticky like the seedpods of the burdock plants that grew in the walking trails he and—In-su—Faulkner frequented in the summertime; those barbed spurs that left a penetrating, stinging itch hours after the intrusion had been removed. The burning sensation of the nearly invisible puncture was the only evidence of a wound. A laughable phantom injury that still hurt regardless.

Chuckling cheerlessly, Dickinson squinted at the time displayed on the green digital screen of the alarm clock. 6:38. He was over thirty minutes late. His chest seized up in a bewildering sob that petered off into an equally mystifying series of sniffles. He couldn’t even remember what it had been that had upset him so much, the fragments of the dream vanishing like wisps of smoke, like fog, when he tried to bring them into focus; leaving behind only the heartache and drying tear tracks as proof that anything had terrorized his sleeping mind.

The only thing he could recall with any certainly were the sound of someone crying, bright white lights, and a cacophony of noises in the distance. But that in itself offered very little insight when it came to narrowing down the memory. All things considered.

“¡Ya! cállate,” Dickinson hissed, eyes closed, as he extended his arm to slam the ‘off’ button of the clock but only managed to bump his fingers into cool glass. He bit back another curse, opened his eyes, and lifted himself on his elbows to reach around the obstruction that had been left on his bedside table. Once the shrill wailing had been silenced, once and for all, Dickinson rolled onto his back and stared up at his bedroom ceiling.

The last vestiges of the nightmare had been blown away by the torrential winds of his waking mind, so it would be pointless for him to continue to dwell on it now. But there was something gnawing at the deepest alcoves in his psyche. An animallike dread made his skin break out into gooseflesh and the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. A ghostly chill, a creeping horror that had dug its claws into the core of his being. Dickinson wondered idly who had emerged to haunt his subconscious last night. Which one of the many ghosts that trailed behind him had come seeking their toll for the years he had stolen from them?

The thought sent another pang of melancholy through him. Dickinson pressed his hands to his face in response, trying to clear his mind. If this was the penitence he had to pay for letting Agent Fitzgerald goad him into another drinking contest, then maybe this would finally teach him to stop letting things get this far. Everyone knew Dickinson was a terrible drunk; a lightweight who’d get overly emotional—and then embarrassingly clingy. So if he had to bet, Dickinson would suppose the Fitz got a kick out of seeing him turn into a weepy mess, teary face pressed into the side of one of his usual victims (Faulkner, Whitman, or Hemingway) whose side he’d cling to for the rest of the night.

‘It was Faulkner last night,’ Dickinson thought sluggishly. It was usually Faulkner as of late. And since Dickinson had woken up in his own place instead of being deposited onto someone’s couch, it was the only logical conclusion; his long-term mission partner was the only one Dickinson trusted enough with a key to his apartment, after all. Whitman would probably try to pull a prank (or two) and Hemingway’s susceptibility to peer pressure made him a liability even if Whitman didn’t have a key.

Grumbling with no real heat behind the sound, Dickinson recalled the glass of water that had been left for him on the nightstand, another hint that pointed towards his partner. Sitting up he squinted at the sunlight pouring into the bedroom before he shifted his gaze to the glass and noticed that there was a square of paper placed over it, and two white circular tablets of medicine atop of that. Dickinson snorted as he carefully pinched the aspirin pills between his thumb, index, and middle finger so he could snatch up the handwritten letter between his final two. Popping the medication into his mouth, he brought the note to eye level and blindly pawed for the cup. Sipping on the water, he scanned the note, which read:

Good morning, Agent Dickinson: I hope you slept alright. Please take these pills with food and water. There is a bowl of caldo de pollo in the fridge. Two minutes in the Radarange should suffice. Our meeting time at Briefing Room A is 700 hours. I shall get you by 645 hours if I do not receive a page back by 630 hours. Cordially, Agent Faulkner. P.S. Please do not worry about my suit jacket from last night. I properly rinsed the discharge.㋡

Dickinson choked on his drink, dribbling water onto his chin and chest. Coughing and pounding at his sternum, he placed the glass back onto the bedside table and looked at the time.

6:43.

Faulkner was probably already unlocking the door.

[inspireit]

The cold mist in the morning that clings to the flowers and windows like gossamer; the feeling of being watched by a predator with nothing around; a cold finger against the side of your neck and the whisper in your ear; a deadly nightshade potted beautifully; plum blossoms littering cobbled pathways through the park.

BASELINE

Name: Victoria Wu Age: 200+ Gender Identity: Cis female Ethnicity: Chinese Occupation: Psychiatrist at Vievecor Sanitorium Socioeconomic status: Irrelevant — she's comfortable Education: Informal — intelligent/self-taught Other notes: Material wealth comes easy for someone who lives for so long, as does finding a job and learning everything you need to know to survive. She never attended any University but has forged degrees that pass and is, regardless of what might be fabricated on paper, quite adept at what she does. She's studied longer than most doctors and that's what matters, in her opinion.

PHYSICAL PROFILE

Eye color: Brown Skin color: Pale Hair color: Brown Height: 5'7" Weight: 135 lbs Body type: Lithe/Willowy Fitness level: strong core, lithe muscles Tattoos: none Scars/Birthmarks: a birthmark on her left hip that looks like a jellybean; various scars on her body from her past though none on the face. Distinguishing features: Her eyes have a sort of steely hardness to them that brooks no follow-ups when she gives a command. Disabilities: None known. Fashion style: Elegant and casual; easily put together. Accessories: Various bits of jewelry though the thin alloy chains she wears around her neck and a ring in the same alloy on her right middle finger seem to be mainstays; her nails are always manicured. Cleanliness/Grooming: Manicured, clean, immaculate; perhaps it's easier for a spirit. Posture/Gait: Shoulders-back, neck-straight, think "MURDER". Tics: She will both look at her nails and rub the pad of her forefinger across her thumbnail when annoyed. Coordination: Impeccable Weaknesses: All things spirits are weak to Other notes: Victoria's fitness is oft-times irrelevant because of incorporeality but she is fit. It comes from years of training and martial arts (Nanquan, more specifically, Hung Ga Kuen) and has the discipline and form to prove it. Perhaps if one finds out her past they'll know more.

PSYCH PROFILE

Personality type: Architect (INTJ) Personality traits: Poised, confident, demanding, calm, intimidating, secretive, enigmatic, practical Temperament: phlegmatic  Introvert/Extrovert: Introverted; can command a room and will but prefers to observe. Mannerisms: Authoritative speech even in social conversations; attention to detail and presence. Educational background: Not an issue when and where she was from, but the woman is intelligent and self-taught in a lot of areas. It comes with age. Spatial Intelligence: Excellent Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence: Excellent Musical Intelligence: Fair Linguistic Intelligence: Excellent Logical-Mathematical Intelligence: Excellent Interpersonal Intelligence: Poor Intrapersonal Intelligence: Good Naturalistic Intelligence: Poor Self-esteem: Above Average Loves: Plum Blossoms; Puppies; Learning; People who know themselves. Morals/Virtues: Strong work ethic; dedicated; righteous(ish) Phobias/Fears: None she'll admit. Angered by: Impudence; people who get in her way; questioning her on things she's knowledgeable in. Pet peeves: People who bite their nails; procrastinators; liars. Obsessed with: Her own status and well-being. Routines: Meditation every morning before going to work; reading a few hours before most people would sleep; rest. Bad habits: She, on occasion, will smoke if she has a body with which to do so. Desires: Knowledge; status; power; (quietly) love. Flaws: She is so focused on the whole of her plans she sometimes to forge relationships; she can be very deceptive and secretive; she is very self-absorbed. Secrets: She might remember bits of her past from time to time; she haunts some civilians if they cross her but does so discreetly; she has had secret crushes on several people but will never approach. Regrets: Not realizing how she died yet; not spending more time on herself. Accomplishments: Exceptional in her fields of study and quite a good psychiatrist even if she does use... questionable means; lives comfortably on her own without the need for others; has a voice on the council. Memories: The flashes she gets that she thinks might be from her past but is never sure (or denies) include the scent of burning wood and hair, the abjuration of her oaths (whatever they were), the bowing heads of men that she looks down over, many gold coins, and the smell of sea air. Other notes: A lot of her psyche revolves around who she is now, though it is likely informed by who she was before she died. Emotional muscle memory is a thing and she finds herself falling into patterns that she doesn't understand where she got them from. She is so sure of herself, her status, and her position that even though they are her desires they are being sated; they will remain in the forefront, however, to make sure she doesn't slip.

ARCHETYPE

Character archetype: The Boss. Character arc: Moral-Descending leaning Flat Arc. Core values: Power, trust, status. Internal conflicts: meshing a desire for love with a desire for personal space; wanting more power versus having to deal with the people to get it; sureness of herself versus the lack of concrete details on her past. External conflicts: Her work as a psychiatrist versus her work as a council member; balancing life as a spirit and all her spoon versus her life as HBIC. Epiphanies: She is already where she wants to be but will continue to press forward for more. Significant events: Death until current day has been a whirlwind of them: the wandering of America - the watching how America formed - starting to study whatever piqued her interests - becoming adept at things after death that she hadn't been before - becoming adept at things she probably was adept at before death and reapplying them to life now - finding Vievecor - settling in Vievecor - taking her place on the council - pushing forward. Other notes: Her Archetype and character arc are meant to be interesting. Because of the fact that she is 'The Boss' she is assuredly always herself, and while there is room for wiggling in terms of where she arcs too, it would likely be a decline into immorality rather than a rising arc, but most likely to stay a flatline of her being exactly whom she is but the people around her changing and evolving in time and influencing her story in that regard.

SCALES

Optimist/Pessimist/Realist/Nihilist/Cynic

Extrovert/Introvert

Honest/Lies Sometimes/Lies a Lot/Deceptive

Arrogant/Confident/Somewhat Confident/Somewhat Unconfident/Unconfident/Cowardly

Selfless/Others Over Self/Self Over Others/Selfish

Humorous/Somewhat Humorous/Neither/Somewhat Serious/Serious

Reserved/Somewhat Reserved/Somewhat Open/Open

Extremely Trusting/Trusting/Average/Suspicious/Extremely Suspicious

Neat Freak/Organized/Somewhat Messy/Messy/Extremely Messy

Logos/Ethos/Pathos

Very Patient/Patient/Somewhat Patient/Somewhat Impatient/Impatient/Very Impatient

Loyal/Neither/Backstabbing

Lots of Energy/Some Energy/Average/Little Energy/No Energy

HEADCANONS

Victoria does not accept nicknames. She only accepts people calling her Victoria.

As long as she has been alive, one would think she had some clue as to what it was that had happened to her to make her remain tethered, but she still has no idea and has tried to embrace life as a spirit. To that point, she did not die of natural causes, and the image of her body holds a few scars across its surface. Whatever DID happen to her was not pleasant but she cannot say for sure, one way or another, whether it was warranted. All she knows is that she’s still here and still kicking… so to speak.

She falls in love often but very rarely acts upon it. Someone more or less has to approach and try to date her for it to happen. She’s spent so long watching the lives of others play out in these scenarios to not want it herself and to not fall head over heels since she has no idea if her own life found that kind of fruition, but perhaps its just a longing for something she’s lost.

Victoria refuses to take guff from anyone. There might have been a time in her life that she would have wilted at authority but that day has long passed and she knows she speaks from a place of authority. Sometimes she need not say anything at all to get across the idea that whatever is being broached is not something she wishes to talk about. It’s not a glare, it’s not a frown, it is just her existence, presence, and the fact that she has said nothing that speaks to that. This sway also applies to her position in the Council. She doesn’t often offer up her own ideas for advancement or moving forward but, I’d like to think, if she were to throw her weight behind something that the rest of the members would take notice. There’s just a presence about her.

She trained in Nanquan martial arts when she was alive and, though she does not know how or when, is fairly adept in it, especially the discipline of Hung Ga Kuen and it makes her fairly formidable in a physical fight (should she have a wholly physical form) meaning she can take care of herself even without her spirit powers so to speak.

Because of the state and rumors surrounding the Shipyard, Victoria has managed to build herself a nice place with beautiful amenities without having to dip into any money she has squirreled away too deeply. The property values are dirt cheap and so she took over an abandoned warehouse and, over the years, has modified and retrofitted it to fit her needs. Inside looks like a spacious art gallery almost with a large, loft-like living space up a set of industrial stairs. It’s understated and beautiful and has a collection of artifacts that likely haven’t been seen for years. She has no extra beds upstairs in the loft area but she does have a couch that people can stay on. Possibly. If she were to invite someone over.

INSPIRATIONS

Xu Xialing (Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings), Miranda Priestly (the Devil Wears Prada), Dana Scully (the X-Files), Yennefer (The Witcher), Big Barda (DC Comics)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Bad Bitch — With Victoria's own position she would likely gravitate towards having a 'best friend' whom was in a similar position. Someone with power, poise, and who refuses to take shit from anyone and though they won't gossip (often) or exchange fashion tips they spend quite a bit of time together discussing other, more important things. 0/1

Slow Burn — in all the time she's been (un)alive she's never truly had a romance. It's not that she doesn't have the capacity for it, because of course she does, but it is hard for her to pursue anyone because of how she carries herself. This would be someone who actively found interest in her and pursued her. They will first build into a friendship, there will be tension and rebuffing and all that fun stuff, then eventually they'll spark (I believe in us.) 0/1

Admirer — someone who, like above, found interest in Victoria. It doesn't have to be romantic or anything like that but they do pursue her in their own way. We can work out how the reception would be and plot out anything (how far its gotten, etc) to see if they've formed any kind of relationship from it (enemies, friends, etc) 0/2

Spirits — there was a time when Victoria felt as if their kind might one day overrun the likes of others, but she miscalculated how many people would feel compelled to cling to the mortal realm after passing. This means that new spirits do get some attention from Victoria and she'll even try to mentor some, if necessary. ∞

Co-Workers — anyone who works at the Sanitarium gets some of Victoria's attention because they are so closely related to her work, which she takes very seriously. This can be friendly or contentious, depending on your wants. ∞

Anything and everything you might have in mind! just hit me up.

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 14: Affirmation

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Fourteen: Affirmation

Note: Sorry this chapter is a few hours late! I live in that part of Texas where all the bullshit is going on with the power. Woke up the morning to a $50 electric bill FOR ONE NIGHT. My apartment is only 1100 square feet. The bill was $12 the day before that. Let that one sink in. But anyway, this is one of my favorite chapters so far! Very exciting stuff! I hope you like it! 

-~-

A gifted storyteller is capable of drawing their audience in. They are adept at holding a certain level of intrigue and suspense, forcing their audience to pay attention, lest they miss something crucial and ruin the experience for themselves. An inexperienced or lesser storyteller bored their audience or drove them away, serving as nothing more than a momentary distraction from the usual pace of their everyday lives. But under this very specific set of circumstances, no one present was sure where to place the experience they’d just suffered through. 

Each of them felt a great sense of conflict deep within themselves as they considered each and every word that they’d just heard. It was a strange and unsettling course of action, one that made them desire to do nothing more than curl up and withdraw from the subject at hand. They believed every word that they’d just heard, but they couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing, especially when it came to the subject of the story that they had just been told. The fact that he was both the narrator and the main focus of the experience meant that it was entirely believable, but completely unfathomable, like a destiny nightmare that none of them wanted to look in the face. That would make it too real; give it too much power over them. But regardless of their stance on the matter, it had happened, and it did affect all of them to some varying degree.

V had always possessed a certain gift for speech, despite the fact that he wasn’t a man of many words. His tone, cantor, and temperament combined with a keen intellect and a nearly flawless combination of memory and repertoire meant that he was perhaps the most engaging person that they currently knew to talk to. But that entire combination became the absolute worst thing that someone could experience the moment that V decided that he needed to get the traumas of his past off of his chest and into the open air. After all, V was exceptionally strong-willed in regards to his emotions. When something affected him deeply, it tended to be negative, and it was almost certainly beyond the scope of what any of them wanted to know about. But if he was willing to give them a glimpse into his world, then they wanted to take the opportunity to peer inside and take in every bit of information that they could.

None of them really knew what to say when he seemed to reach the end of his horrifying tale of sadness and pain. Every word that he’d spoken had carried such a strong hint of anguish, terror, or apprehension that it made it physically unnerving to listen to, but as much as they now wished that they could take back the experience, they were grateful that he’d decided to share it with them. It put a lot of things into context that none of them had been able to understand before, and despite the fact that certain aspects of his life would now haunt them for the rest of time, they felt better for knowing them.

Was it possible to be grateful to someone for telling you something that you’d have been happy going your entire life without knowing? Because if it was, then they were. But if they weren’t, then would that make them too immature to comprehend the suffering of someone so near and dear to them? Was it selfish to desire ignorance while assuming that they were strong and powerful and possessed the necessary strength and tenacity to recon with such an experience, but simply chose not to in order to spare themselves the suffering that one who deemed himself weaker than them had already survived? Was that entire line of thinking too philosophical for a matter that was both so very complicated but oh so simple? None of them could say anything at the moment, so they didn’t say anything. They simply waited to be sure that V was either done talking, or that he was waiting for them to say something, anything to break up the tense silence that had settled across the snow like a blanket soaked in glue.

And after a while of waiting in silence, totally unsure as to what to do next, Vergil decided to break the silence between them. He’d never been one to follow the lead of others, and he sure wasn’t going to start now. And as far as the concept of taking the time to feel the weight of his words upon those who he’d directed them towards, he didn’t feel he had the time to waste. A direct approach was required in a situation like this, especially when there were so many questions that had been raised during his time speaking that could dissipate from his psyche like so much fog after a storm as a result of his prolonged wait. He had felt an intense desire to not interrupt V, owning to the fact that he feared that if he was stopped, he would love his nerve and decide that he didn’t’ wish to speak on such matters after all. But now that he was at least somewhat sure that his eldest son was done talking for the time being, he was ready to start asking questions. Best to catch him before his threshold for conversation was exceeded and he shut down like an engine in disrepair.

“...You said that you desired to pick a random direction and leave. Why?” Vergil adjusted his posture in his seat, his head coming to rest against his palm as his elbow planted itself firmly in the arm of the chair and the devil slayer in blue crossed his legs. It was all that he could do for the time being to placate the murderous rage that he felt brewing in the very back of his subconscious. Never had he desired to end the lives of so many people that he’d never met before. “And for that matter, where did your travels take you after that? Was the end result desirable?”

The young while haired summoner in black afforded himself a moment to ponder his father’s question before responding, unsure as to what to say. On its surface, it was a simple enough question. Vergil had no way of knowing how deep the answer had the potential of going. And it was a good question at that. It seemed that his father desired to simply take what had happened as an unwavering fact and build off of that, taking the time to let his mind settle before venturing forward. He believed him and didn’t seem to desire to question his motivations for doing anything that he’d done, respecting his capacity to make his own decisions. Or maybe even respecting the decisions themselves. He couldn’t be sure just yet. But there was a part of V that couldn’t help but wonder what Vergil might do with the information afforded to him now that he had so much time on his hands.

“It was something that I was accustomed to by that point. Something familiar when nothing else was. I’d spend the better part of my youth going back and forth to new and unknown places in the hope of a better outcome. But I learned quickly that while many things changed as you went from place to place, people largely stayed the same. And the problems that came with them only reset to start anew.” V grew silent, his eyes wandering across the room towards Nero. He sat quietly on the couch towards the right corner, twiddling his thumbs in complacent horror as though what he’d just heard had probably changed him in some profound way, or at had at least his perception of his older sibling in a substantial way. It was a stark contrast to Dante, whose uncharacteristic silence, thoughtful posture, and calm atmosphere mirrored his older twin’s in a way that was as fascinating as it was unsettling. V didn’t know what to make of it. “As for the end result of this particular expedition… well, it led me directly to you. It took a few years, but the result was worthwhile, I think. I was lucky enough to be taken under the wing of a group of outcasts, and I spent a substantial amount of time traveling and performing with them, only to end up in Redgrave City the night that you happened upon me. I was out for a walk when we happened upon one another on that street corner, and everything that has happened since has been nothing short of extraordinary. And harrowing. Especially that.”

The Darkslayer tilted his head to the side, leaning back slightly. “I take it that you do not remember much of what occurred that night, then. Perhaps that is for the best. The end result was, as we all seem to agree, undesirable. Though it was never my intention for my actions to lead to the consequences that they did, they did so regardless.” He seemed to consider his next statement for a moment before speaking, V’s retelling of his farrowing ordeal weighing on him in a way that he was not accustomed to. Oh, how things would have been different should he have been there. How the tables could have turned in their favor. But despite his best intentions, Vergil was more than aware of the fact that there was little that could be done about what’s he’d missed in his past. There was, however, a substantial amount that he could, and would do now. “Saddling you with a death sentence as soon as I discovered that you were alive after all was as far afield from what I intended as it could possibly be, but it happened anyway. Things never seem to go according to my plans. But I can only imagine that that may be due to my pension for creating them without taking every variable into account, and for not having all of the relevant information in the first place.”

Dante felt tempted to point out that Vergil had essentially just apologized to V, but he decided to leave the matter be. There would be time enough later. For now, he was going to take in the scene before him and silently contemplate his overall role in the situation. Though to say that the same part of him that felt somewhat responsible for Nero’s suffering as a child didn’t yearn to have been able to do something more for V would be a lie. Financially unstable as he was and always had been, he would have taken them both in without a second’s pause if given the opportunity. They would have all benefited greatly from having someone, anyone to call family. At least biologically.

V seemed to take his father’s words to heart. He’d been in situations of his own that lent themselves to the same vicious pattern of failure, regret, and sacrifice. It was what had led him to become the person that he now was. But he didn’t know Vergil’d particular brand of suffering, and he hoped that he never would. Although he could be mistaken, he was willing to believe that there was a part of Vergil that did in fact long for the time in their lives that he’s missed out on. The Darkslayer didn’t come off to him as the kind of person to willingly walk away from something so integral to him. Maybe it was time to get to the heart of the matter. After all, things couldn’t really get any more uncomfortable, could they?

“The vast majority of us do not plan for or wish for the consequences of our actions to play out in the way that they do, father, but that does not change the fact that we must account for them, accommodate them, and answer for them regardless of our desire to do so.” V crossed his arms loosely, making eye contact with Vergil in a way that unnerved both him and everyone else present. Something had shifted in V’s demeanor, and it was evident to anyone who spared a look at him. It was as if a certain level of inhibition had fallen away from him and he felt the freedom to say something that he’d always wanted to; the confidence to be heard and understood. “If I could have planned out every little detail of my life, it would have played out significantly different. I would not have spent my youth bounced back and forth between numerous orphanages. I would never have voluntarily chosen to be able to see the things that I was able to see. And I most certainly wouldn’t have undergone the extensive and invasive mental evaluations that I was forced to undergo out of the fear that I might actually be as insane as everyone around me seemed to collectively assume I was. But unfortunately, that is now how things went. But I can say for sure that I am done running from them. Whether I face them down or flee for my life, I will still have to do battle with them, so I might as well face my fate on my own terms.”

Nero and Dante gave one another a surprised look, the eldest of the two shaking his head as if he were physically trying to shake off how surprised he was. His eyes widened slightly as his eyebrows raised, seemingly taken by surprise as he lingered on the gravity of what V had just said to his father. As far as V’s normally sedate and polite tone and manner of speaking went, he’s essentially just put Vergil in his place and given him a piece of his mind, and the eldest Son of Sparda hadn’t said anything to correct him. Perhaps he was just impressed with the nerve he’d just demonstrated? Or perhaps it was something more substantial? It was hard to say when it came to his older twin.

Vergil leaned forward, giving V an unflinching piercing look as he seemed to dwell on his words. He half expected V to flinch or turn away, but he didn’t, and there was a part of him that was admittedly genuinely impressed by his eldest son’s sudden shift in tone. Something had seemingly clicked for him that hadn’t before, and it was evident for anyone present to see. For lack of a better way of putting it, after recalling such a harrowing experience, V just seemed utterly done with being at the mercy of his enemies, and it was time that he did something about that.

But there more to his statement than that, at least from where Vergil stood. V had just done something that he was confident that his son had never done before. He’d addressed him as just that: his father. In all the time that they’d spoken prior to that moment, V had been, for the most part at least, nothing but polite and upfront with him, but he’d never said anything that indicated to him that he was willing to verbally claim him as his father. And at that moment, he’d finally done so. Vergil hadn’t realized how much he needed one of his children to do that in a sincere way. Nero had called him as much before, but this was different in some way. There was no anger behind the abjection; no ulterior motive or thinly veiled layer of something secondary. No, it was just as simple as that. As simple as a son addressing his father as exactly that in a moment that told him that he was indeed making some headway with his sons. And as far as Vergil was concerned, he didn’t think that it was possible for him to be more internally pleased about that revelation than he already was. And although he hid it well, there was a part of him that was deeply touched by something that simple. For the first time in a long time, Vergil didn’t know how to take a statement that had been given to him at face value, and it was an incredible thing to behold.

“You have something you want to ask, don’t you? I can tell. Come out with it then. You’ve come this far in regards to expressing your desires. Why stop now? What is it that you truly wish to ask me? Because I can tell that there is indeed something that you desire to make known, and we only have so much time.” Vergil broke eye contact with V for a moment to turn his attention to Dante, his intention to speak with both of them clear. It seemed that his message was something universal between the four of them, a topic that none of them wished to approach, but were going to have to at some point. “It could be substantially less world-ending than you might imagine. Take it from someone who is less… adept at doing so when it actually counts.”

Dante didn’t miss his identical twin’s message. Neither did Nero or V for that matter. Though they were all equally taken aback by it, they were willing to absorb the context of it and accept that there was some truth to it. They did in fact all need to find a way to express their true thoughts and intentions more clearly with one another than they had been, regardless of the strides they’d made so far in regards to improving their communication with one another. Going forward, this was their chance to do something meaningful. They needed to seize it.

V looked at Vergil for a moment, his posture and overall demeanor softening significantly as he suddenly looked tired. It was different from how he usually seemed when he was in such a state, more emotional than physical. Talking about what occurred had drained him in a way that he was not accustomed to, and it showed, but he knew better than to simply give in and allow his inhibitions to get the better of him. Maybe he should just ask as his father had suggested? At this point, what could it hurt?

“I want to know why you didn’t know I was alive. And I want to know why I’m able to see the things that I can see. I’m willing to believe that it is… abnormal for a child to be able to do what I was able to do, even by the standards of our family.” V went quiet for a moment, blinking rapidly for a moment as he suddenly felt a rush of emotion that he couldn’t’ quiet place. “And I want to know if you would have come looking for us if you had known. What you would have done.”

The demon slayer in blue’s posture changed slightly. It was something that Dante picked up on more than the rest of them did, something that Vergil didn’t generally do. Even under the most extreme circumstances, Vergil never slumped, not even a little. Or at least, he’d never seen his twin brother do so. It was almost unnatural how such a small thing unnerved him. A quick look in Nero’s direction was all it took to see that he was watching the situation intently, seemingly invested in Vergil’s answer. Dante repressed the urge to sigh in discomfort. The stakes were high this time.

“Please. Don’t’ say something you’d normally say for once, Vergil. Just this once. This really isn’t the time to do that to them. Put them down gently if you have to. I don’t think that they are in the mood for that right now. Even if it’s the honest truth.”

Much to his surprise, Vergil looked over at him for a moment. It was as though Vergil had heard his younger twin’s thoughts. While his facial expression was largely unreadable, they both seemed to know at that moment what Vergil was going to say, it made them equally uncomfortable. Vergil, because he knew the truth, and Dante because he was almost certain that he didn’t want to. Nothing in the blue devil’s life was ever simple or good in that kind of way, and something told him that there would be repercussions for this one.

“Bold of you to assume that I didn’t look for you, V. I did. For countless hours in countless places until every just started to blend together into an amalgamation of all the ground I’d already tread before then. During the pursuit of what I’d lost, hopelessness set in and brought the bitterness that I’ve carried with me for so long with it.” Vergil paused for a moment, his eyes drifting over to Nero. This was not the kind of conversation that he could leave his youngest son out of, no matter how much he wanted to. There was no delicate way to put what he needed to say. All he could do was hope that they took it the way he meant it, and not in the way that they were entitled to. But that was their prerogative and their privilege, if one could even call it that. “And then somehow I looked up and I was in Fortuna. And I met her. And then I arrived in Redgrave City a lifetime later only to find that perhaps the only time I truly allowed my grief to consume me that the very person who had sought to comfort me in such a state had been left in a truly regrettable state as a result. And so had the result of our one fleeting night of passion.”

Vergil realized quickly that neither V nor Nero were truly able to take in the severity of what Vergil had just implied, or the fact that he’d been so open and honest with them about something he had tried so hard to keep buried deep within himself. A heavy sigh betrayed his true emotions, as did the sad, sly smirk that ghosted his face for the fleeting moment that he’d been unable to contain it. 

“I find it almost genuinely ironic that I managed to get myself into this situation twice without realizing it. I never considered myself unintelligent, by my actions certainly lend to that conclusion. Much as the horror of my existence has led to the trauma and pain that paved the dark path that I walked in solitude for the majority of my life, the regret I have caused and have left behind has been all that I have left in my wake.” He faced them all, accustomed to even attempting what he was doing at that moment. Vergil wasn’t entirely sure he recognized the actions that he was taking as his own, but he accepted the reality and the truth behind them nonetheless. This was long overdue, even if it was something that he truly didn’t know how to reckon with. But V’s words about the reality of taking responsibility for the consequences of one’s actions had resonated with him, and he could no longer deny that. “It is almost humbling how much I truly regret the depth of the suffering I’ve caused, and for that… I am sorry. There is more that I could have done that I did not, and I can only hope that it brings you some small measure of satisfaction knowing that it will eternally haunt me.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, Nero shook his head, a troubled look on his face. He couldn’t even begin to put into words how Vergil’s confession affected him, but he still felt the need to get something off of his chest. He had a lot of questions, but he knew he’d get to the root of them eventually. For now, he needed to say something that he now realized he’d needed to say for a long time, and he just hoped that it wasn’t too late. The things he’d experienced that day had affected him deeply in ways that he could never have imagined when they’d boarded the train to Lucia’s house. It was enough to physically give him whiplash.

“No, that doesn’t bring us satisfaction. Were not sadists. I mean, you might be but… More suffering isn’t going to bring any of us that. I’m pretty sure we’re all tapped out by now.” The short white-haired devil hunter sighed, unsure as to how to take the number of eyes that were on him at that moment. He wasn’t shy, but that didn’t make this any less awkward. It seemed that he wasn’t the only one accustomed to him being this serious. “Look just… fix it, okay? We both know you can. All of us do. You just fucking suck at forgiving yourself for literally anything you do, and it really shows. Stop kicking your own ass so hard, and start fixing the shit you broke in the first place. That’s our job. Nothing’s gonna change otherwise, ya know?”

Both V and Dante looked Nero up and down for a moment as though he’d been replaced by another individual that they didn’t recognize. While they shared his sentiments, they were still shocked to hear Nero be the voice of reason among them during such a heavy conversation. Maybe they had written him off too soon as a lost cause in that regard. Vergil nodded in agreement, a single barely noticeable gesture that carried a weight that he himself wasn’t entirely privy to. He would try as he had done with everything else that he had committed himself to in the past. It was all he could do. And he could only hope that it would be enough.

Just as they were attempting to figure out where they needed to go from there, the door swung open with a surprising amount of force to reveal none other than Nico. She was covered in a grey substance that looked like dust or ash, and a look of both shock and excitement adorned her face. She was practically jumping up and down in glee at whatever she’d just seen that had led to her returning so suddenly. The four of them shared an apprehensive look before turning to see what had captivated her in such an intense manner.

“Oh, for fucks sake! What the hell did you do this time, Nico?! We don’t live here!” Nero started before Nico hushed him, pointing over her shoulder towards something out of sight behind her. A resounding boom that carried both a strange sonic tone and a defining shake followed closely behind as if he’d triggered it just by willing it into existence. Now she had their attention. How had they not noticed that something more was going on? Had they been that focused on V’s retelling of his tragic and harrowing ordeal?

“Listen here, shit for brains. That is why I’m here.” She turned back towards the open door, gesturing for the four of them to follow her. “Get off your buts, grab your weapons, and follow me. You’ve got to see this!”

The baffled descendants of the Dark Knight Sparda all looked at one another before silently objecting in some way shape or form and then obliging her. At the very least, they needed to see what she was talking about. And by the sounds of that boom, it sure as hell was something. One could only hope that it was worth their time. And Nico rarely disappointed them.

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Phew! That was an awful lot, wasn’t it! I like these long chapters though. And I especially like writing them after I have to deal with stupid stuff. Serves as a great distraction from the reality of the fact that I still live in this capitalistic hellhole. But that’s neither here nor there. I hope to see you in the comics! And as always, I hope you had a good day! I’ve had a few people use the form already, but I’d love it if you went and checked it out! I’ve compiled quite the list! See you in the comment section! Bye-bye!

[kylermalloy]

So, I'm curious, what is your favourite TO episode? If you are able to make a choice ;)

Oh, oh! This is one ‘favorites’ question I have no problem answering.

My favorite episode is and has always been the season 1 finale, “From a Cradle to a Grave.” Honestly, I think this is where the show peaked in its writing. I was on the edge of my seat the entire episode, just loving the excitement, the tension, the themes, and all the narrative threads coming together in one culminating, sweeping episode.

This episode is everything I love about the show. Murder, mayhem, and family :) But seriously! (Omg am I going to have to do a blow-by-blow of the episode? I think I might.)

In that case, the rest goes under a cut. (Spoilers for TO ahead!)

The episode begins with Hayley giving birth, induced by the witches who betrayed Klaus. It’s in the church, that unholy horror of a murder museum.

Intercut with the rose-tinted flashback of pregnant Hayley and Klaus feeling their baby kick, Hayley gives birth as her voiceover promises a safe home and family to “Zoe…or Caitlyn, or Angela.”

*irony* but it hurts.

Klaus and Hayley are, for once, united in the fight for their child. They’ve been at each others’ throats all season, and in the past neither have had trouble getting their way. But in this crucial hour neither the Original hybrid or the uncontrollable mama wolf can do anything.

Can I say: I love love LOVE that look Klaus and Hayley share after the baby is born. Hayley asks to hold her, and they share this…look. Listen, I’m not much of a klayley shipper, but their partnership is golden. They’ve reached a tentative agreement at this point that they’re both going to play a role in raising the baby they created. The trust and pride and satisfaction between them in this moment, despite the horrid circumstances, melts me.

And then Hayley dies.

Klaus screaming NOOOOOOO is all of us in this moment.

Oh! And I almost forgot—Klaus being pinned to the wall in that Christlike pose. That was NOT an accident. It helps tie in to the larger theme they’re going for, that Elijah expounds for us later. He’s not a sinless, perfect Christ figure—in fact, he’s the opposite. He’s the monster under the bed, the devil in the night. One might even go so far as to say he’s the symbol for everyone to pin their problems to. The ultimate scapegoat. Not to say he didn’t exert some effort of his own to get there—this is the price he has to pay for his sins. Crucified, figuratively, forced to watch helpless as his newborn daughter is taken from him and her mother slaughtered.

Then Elijah bursts in. (Bless Daniel Gillies’s funky lil run, it gives me joy in the bleakest of times)

And this, oh goodness, this quiet grief they share over Hayley. Klaus has held her body since he woke up, I’m guessing, this woman who carried his child, chafed against every controlling measure he tried to impose on her, whom he holds some degree of respect and fondness for.

And Elijah, dear Elijah. He pinned all his hopes (hee) to this woman, this werewolf Madonna and her child. He gave her more space in his heart than he’d given anyone, including women who’d haunted him for centuries. And now she’s dead, just like anyone who’s had the misfortune of sparking his affections.

Klaus healing Elijah—HEY REMEMBER EARLY IN THE SEASON WHEN KLAUS BIT ELIJAH AND LEFT HIM TO SUFFER?! Now, Klaus offers his blood without compunction, without hesitation. This time it’s Elijah who hesistates. You have to wonder, is he deliberating which nightmare he would prefer—the torture of wolf venom, or the torture of Hayley’s death and her baby’s disappearance?

“You were bested? My invincible brother?”

Klaus doesn’t rise to the bait like he normally would. He barely reacts. He’s broken. He wanted too much—he played king and gained the whole world, but lost his soul. And then his kingdom.

You see why I love this episode?

We move to the graveyard, where we see not only Klaus and Elijah trapped in a maze, but the witches preparing for a sacrifice. Let’s not gloss over their costume change, either—in the church, for the birth, they were all clad in black. But here, as they prepare for their worst atrocity yet, infanticide, they wear pure white, like they’re going to a christening or something. *irony*

Then comes *the speech* from Elijah, the one that mirrors the pilot so perfectly (I know them both by heart, thank you very much.) In the pilot, Elijah’s speech is rousing, patient, and encouraging. Here, he has lost his patience. Here, he tells us what we’ve been seeing throughout the entire season.

“This is the world you created, Niklaus. All your scheming, the enemies you have made every day do your miserable life—what results did you expect? That your child would be born into a happy life? That the mother would be alive, to know her daughter? That we could live and thrive as some sort of family?”

“That was your fantasy, brother, not mine—”

“No, brother! This was our hope. This was our family’s hope. And now she is gone.” (And then we realize that he’s not just mourning the baby, that family he imagined—he mourns Hayley.) “Do you understand? I let this person in. I let her in. I don’t let people in.”

And Klaus’s reaction! This Klaus, with compassion he deserves only for his closest family—this is the Klaus that melts me. This is the scene that slaps. This is how we tie a bow on a season—nay, a millennium—of brotherly tension. They’re not healed; nothing could truly heal the damage they’ve done to each other (or the damage others have wrought on them) but it’s a start.

And Hayley wakes.

Before I go on, let me mention Marcel. Ally, enemy, friend, surrogate son to Klaus (and that could be all in one episode!) He’s destined for death by hybrid venom, having led his vampires into a massacre. All his attempts to rally his people have failed. He’s lost the city, and his vampires have been slaughtered by Guerrera werewolves. He has almost nothing left.

He goes out, armed to forcibly obtain Klaus’s blood and heal his friends—but he upon finding Klaus he makes very on-brand choice. He saves the baby.

He does what the combined efforts of Klaus, Hayley, and Elijah can’t. He wins Klaus’s trust back by saving his newborn daughter. He protects the innocent instead of contributing to the feud. He murders the girl he once tried to save from the Harvest. And he gets to meet his baby sister.

It’s strategy and heart all in one. It’s very Marcel.

He reconciles with Klaus, and Klaus heals him. They are healed—to some degree.

Then Klaus gets to hold his child for the first time, and we all die.

This is what the season has been building up to. Yes, it’s been building to Klaus being toppled off his throne, yes it’s been building to the splintering of his ego, but THIS is what we’ve been promised since the beginning—before the beginning of the show, even. The Original hybrid, brought to his knees by this child. His child. Someone he loves without reservation. Someone who doesn’t fear him. Someone innocent, who carries none of the burdens of their family. Someone who inspires hope in the hopeless. Someone he would kill for, or die for. (he does both)

And I can’t, I just can’t with them. I love the way JoMo handles the baby in this episode—very gingerly, a little awkwardly. It’s probably been a long time since Klaus has handled a baby (one that he hasn’t eaten D: ) and it’s just. so. endearing.

Meanwhile, Davina has…brought Mikael the destroyer back to life? I remember reading somewhere that Josh was supposed to die in this episode, and while I wouldn’t dare wish to deprive Josh of the happiness (and subsequent heartbreak) awaiting him in s2 and beyond, I think Davina’s motivations would’ve made more sense here if she were seeking to avenge her friend’s death. But I digress. Davina resurrects Mikael. Oh dear.

I haven’t mentioned Genevieve yet! She is one of my favorite antagonists. At first, she seemed to come out of nowhere, and I suspect she might have stepped into the narrative hole that was originally filled by Sophie Deveraux, but regardless I like her conflict. A witch cheated out of life (by an Original, no less!) and coerced to murder by her coven, living and dead. An apologetic killer. Yikes.

Klaus and Elijah then discuss how to protect the baby (and I swear in the opening shot it looks like they’re holding hands—but alas, it’s just a trick of the camera angle.) and Hayley helps them determine that they need to send her away. And let me say, Phoebe Tonkin impressed me more with her acting in seasons 2-3, but she hurts me here too. Ouch.

We get a few expository scenes—Francesca spins the werewolf attack into a gang war (she’s not wrong), Marcel makes a deal, Oliver is still an arrogant brat, and Davina plans to keep Mikael as her secret weapon (you poor child).

Then we get the most painful scenes in the episode, because even though we know this tragedy is a lie, it’s still a loss. The baby did not die, but their pain over losing her is real. Elijah says as much: “grief, after all, is grief.”

Klaus and Cami share a scene, and this is one of my favorites of them. Klaus admits that he finds her…beautiful. And for that reason, she should stay away from him. Whether you read this as romantic or not, it’s still so good. This is a woman Klaus pinpointed as being useful, intelligent, insightful, and strong enough to handle his psyche. They began with a rather twisted relationship (let’s save that essay on autonomy for another day, shall we?) but by the end of the season they’ve shared some experiences and gained more sympathy and respect for each other. And Klaus, in his moment of clarity and grief, recognizes that he is fundamentally not what she needs. (Or we could say this is all part of the lie. We’ll never know.)

Also, let me give a shoutout to the music in this episode! The two songs that play toward the end, Open Hands and Shallows are stellar. Speaking of the end! Let’s get into the biggest surprise this episode has for us.

“In what world will she be safe without her father? Who can protect her better than we?”

“There is one person.”

Rebekah. The thousand-year-old beauty queen I honestly thought we’d never see again after her exit in episode 16. The Original sister, the girl who loved too easily, who broke her brother’s heart and incurred his wrath. Who left to live her own life, who only could leave after her favorite brother set her free. Who always wanted what she couldn’t have, a family of her own.

And here she is, smiling at Klaus even though last time they screamed themselves hoarse in a graveyard and he put an enchanted stake through her chest, inches from her heart. She loves and hates him in equal measure, but she has nothing but love for this newborn baby. It’s a peace offering and the ultimate gesture of faith. Klaus could not trust anyone else in the world with his daughter, but he will hand her over to his beloved sister. It is the PERFECT way to end the season, especially with their parting words. Rebekah wants to know the baby’s name.

“Hope. Her name is Hope.”

They’ve been planning this gimmick from day ONE, I’m telling you. Ever since the pilot, when Elijah asks, “who’s more pathetic—the man who sees hope to make his family whole again? Or the coward who only sees the world through his own fear?” And I don’t care how cliche and gimmicky it is—if I did, I wouldn’t be watching this CW show. It’s perfect. This is what the baby means. She is the hope for this broken, broken family. She’s no savior—she doesn’t have to do anything but exist. But she reminds these siblings who, after a thousand years of bloodshed and fighting, are “the definition of cursed—always and forever,” that they can be better. They don’t have to remain the shells of who they were. They can pick up the pieces and begin a new chapter.

And that’s what this episode does for me, folks. It’s honestly too much to handle. I cannot watch this episode like a normal person—I writhe and scream and laugh maniacally and recite the lines. It’s a trip.

This episode concludes the season so strongly. It’s actually a major part of why I rank season 1 as my favorite! I did an official ranking of all 5 TO seasons a while back, which was a lot of fun.

[adonis-koo]

Three’s a crowd

| 3 |

Plot: (CEO AU) When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was suppose to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation...

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader/Jimin, Hoseok/Reader, Taehyung/Reader,

Genre: Smut, angst, drama, angst with a happy ending

Word count: 5k

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Tags: daddy kink, vaginal fingering, slight praise kink, degradation, nipple play, orgasm denial, edging, semi public sex, dirty talk, finger fucking,

Warning ⚠️ This fic touches on drug use, alcoholism and abuse. Please read with caution if any of these things are triggers for you 🖤

Sitting out on a balcony terrace was on god never a way you thought you’d open your morning. But here you were, gazing out over the busy city with a glass of water in hand as you mused. Most likely you’d be headed from the psych ward to the bakery by now. Probably stopping by the ragged gas station to get breakfast on your way before opening up shop. You’d most likely be in the back with Taehyung prepping Monday’s batch of bread while joking about the night before as well.

“Y/n? Are you even listening to me?”

You finally turned your gaze back to Jimin who sat across from you, lips in a large pout as he collapsed back in his plush seat huffing, “It really doesn’t take a lot to distract you, does it?”

Closing your eyes you exhaled sharply out your nose as you replied, “Sorry rich boy- shocking as it may be- not everyone lives like this on a daily,” licking your lips as you rested your hand against your chin, “Furthermore, can you blame me? I mean I get it, my dress choices weren’t the greatest but you didn’t have to go as far as calling them atrocious.”

Jimin’s lips curled into a coy grin as he straightened his back, perhaps knowing you were right, but if there was one thing you had taken note of, it was his darker disposition. He was innocent on the outside, but you had ever so often got the impression he was much more cold hearted then he appeared, “But it was.”

He shrugged easily, obviously not sorry about his words. Just proving what you were suspecting about it. It hadn’t particularly bothered you regardless. He was born into wealth and knew no different, so naturally- your entire wardrobe probably made him cringe. Rolling your eyes heavily you slumped back into your chair, not caring for his snobbish remarks, whether he was born into wealth or not it never killed anyone to have a little bit of humility, “Okay Mr Vogue, where are we going?”

This made him smile, relaxing his shoulders you hadn’t even realized were tense before as he replied, “There’s plenty of boutiques on the 42nd floor, we’ll go there first before exploring our options outside the hotel.”

You nodded, saying no more on the subject as you resumed eating breakfast. Turning your head to look back out over the city, as nice as this was, you didn’t expect to miss your friends so much. What was the point in so much luxury if you didn’t have anyone to enjoy it with? Briefly you glanced back at Jimin, he was on his phone again. Gaze focused and almost deadly, nothing like the aura he portrayed around you and your mother.

While you felt this way you had the distinct feeling Jimin wouldn’t necessarily agree. He bit his plump lip as he dragged a hand through his shiny, soft black hair. There was no doubt about it that he was definitely attractive. Having browsed your phone earlier that day you found out he even made it on the top ten list of most successful millionaires under 25. 

Granted the article was geared towards the sexual appeal for young women to fantasize about. Not necessarily up your alley, although...Jeon Jungkook took the number one spot at only 23 with an income of over 20 billion a year....and you walked in on him getting dressed this morning. Closing your eyes briefly, you felt your face getting red again. Why was it always you? 

Remembering the intense gaze he sent your way before the door shut was enough to make you weak in the knees. Without even realizing it you unconsciously squeezed your thighs together. Were all rich guys like this? You weren’t sure you wanted to be associated with this scene if they were. For your own sake but more importantly the sake of your body. 

Which was currently burning up and ready to take a cold shower. Breakfast continued silently as your parents had took off once more. Apparently Seung had business to attend and asked your mother to accompany him so she could start getting acquainted with his business partners. Your mother, seemed to be enjoying herself thoroughly and you supposed that was all that mattered in the end.

Sitting on the black velvet octagon cut stool you watched Jimin pluck through racks as an employee swiftly lifted them from the rack on command. The selection was wide and vast and while you wanted to explore you were almost glad Jimin seemed to want to take over. Folding your hands you were unsure of where to look. The entire store screamed expensive and you were worried if you accidentally broke anything it’d cost you your retirement fund- not that you had one but still.

Finally Jimin turned around nodding you over to the employee, who past his fake smile seemed almost sneering at you as he lead you towards the back. The employee stopped at the entryway on the right signaling you to go in, following you inside briefly to hang the dresses up on a rack before exiting. The entire room was walk in. A white cubed chair in the corner while three full length mirrors stood at the front of the room. Pulling the thick curtains back to conceal the entrance you pressed your lips together before trying the first one on.

It was a deep blue color and had mountains of tulle that you were buried in instantly, not particularly caring for the halter neck that just about choked you as well. Jimin didn’t care for it either sending you back right away. You honestly weren’t sure how you felt about modeling for him. But then again if he was footing the bill you didn’t have that much dignity to say no.

You were use to being on your feet the majority of the day so changing in and out of dresses was easy. The difficult part was finding something Jimin liked. You found out quickly he was picky and even the slightest of things he didn’t like were a deal breaker. Even you weren’t that harsh on the gowns. Some weren’t your taste but regardless they were all gorgeous. The one you were currently wearing you’d admit you were particularly fond of. 

The tulle skirt flowed a bit wider then an a-line but nothing you were drowning or tripping in. It was off the shoulders with tulle sleeves fitted to your elbows, petals decorated the sweetheart neckline, enough to make you look fashionable but not gawdy. The deep wine red color was mature but still sensual enough that you could get away with it without looking dated.

Taking one step caused you to pause, taking note in your leg that briefly flashed, a long slit running up the right front of the gown you hadn’t noticed before. A bit oddly placed but you rather liked the touch. Opening the curtains again you almost slammed into a figure that had come out of their own room at the same time.

Jumping back you almost fell had a pair of hands not caught you, “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You felt like a deer in the headlights as you looked up to see the one person who had been haunting your memory all morning. Thankfully clothed this time Jungkook gave you a once over, though he appeared more inspecting to see if you were okay before asking for verbal confirmation, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” You fumbled out, your face undoubtedly as red as the gown you wore, “It’s the dress you should probably be checking on.” If you could’ve cringed any harder at your words you would’ve as soon as they left your mouth. Awkwardly looking away from him as you finally forced your lips closed, closing your eyes as you wished nothing more then to embrace the icy void of death.

Very well aware of his large hands that held your waist tighter then necessary, in fact, him holding you wasn’t necessary at all. He licked his lips as he curved an eyebrow, smirking at your fumbling words as his voice lowered, “It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind you taking it off if its damaged.”

As if your face wasn’t hot enough, you squirmed in his arms making him chuckle as he glanced down at you, “Sorry, you’re just so easy to tease, I have a hard time controlling myself.” He didn’t look very sorry though as he finally, though almost reluctantly let go of you, taking a step back as he tossed a wink your way. Striding back out the hallway as you looked away huffing. Following in his path as you found Jimin looking down at his phone with that same icy stare again. Jungkook was talking to what appeared to be a seamstress who was taking measurements, “I want it right above my wrists remember.”

“Shut up you brat, I’m well aware of where you want it cut.” Your eyes widened at the seamstress’s snippy words as she huffed, wrapping the measuring tape around his upper arm before taking another note. They must’ve been close for her to talk to him so informally.

You turned back to Jimin clearing your throat as you raised an eyebrow expectantly. He looked up, his icy look melting as he put back on a charismatic look, wiggling his finger to signal you to turn. Doing so he finally gave a hum, “Too bland. Is there any black ones in the collection I picked out?”

Frowning you looked down at the gown, too bland? You supposed he had a point but you really didn’t want to look like a disco ball decked in gems either honestly, trying to hold in a sigh you nodded before replying, “Mhm, ill go try another if you want.”

Jimin nodded, standing up as he glanced towards the door, “Go ahead, I’ll be back in ten minutes I have to go take care of something.”

You crossed your arms not looking very impressed but you finally sighed waving him off as you turned around, “You sure do know how to steal a girls heart Jimin.”

He gave a smirk before turning his back to you, quickly exiting the door. Sighing your shoulders dropped as you glanced towards the large mirror wall, fidgeting with your fingers as you took one glance at the dress, it was a pity he didn’t like it.

“Don’t listen to him. Jimin’s taste in wardrobe is too saucy for most parties he attends.” You whipped around to see Jungkook still standing there, the seamstress measuring his neck now as he continued, “In regards to the eye candy he dresses up atleast.”

You shrugged, looking back towards the mirror, examining the dress once more as you replied, “I wouldn’t say I’m surprised but he’s paying so I’m gonna do what he wants.”

Jungkook only pressed his lips together saying no more as the seamstress suddenly flicked his head, scolding him quietly as he rubbed the spot, looking thoroughly annoyed, “Don’t you have other people to measure Irene?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she waved him off. Letting him go back down the hallway as she shook her head, “Whatever he says, ignore him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Confused by the seamstresses words you tilted your head. Watching her walk back into the employees room before looking back at the mirror. Taking one last look before trailing to the hallway again. Taking a step into your fitting room as you sighed. Suddenly jumping back at the figure who sat in the plush chair, looking up from his phone casually Jungkook grinned mischievously at your gasp, “Don’t mind me, I’m just here to help.”

“Help!?” You almost yelped out, taking a step back, ready to bolt if necessary, was it their wealth that made them so bold? Or was Jeon Jungkook just really that ballsy of a guy? “Sitting in my dressing room isn’t helping.”

Jungkook laughed, letting his legs which were already spread apart relax further, making you turn around as you put a hand on your forehead, “I already picked a few out of the selection for you to try on if you don’t know where to start,” Jungkook called out, his voice still amused, “Not very fond of Jimin’s taste, especially knowing they don’t fit your style but I think you could pull off the few I chose.”

Closing your eyes you almost whined out, “You want me to try on dresses with you in here?” 

“Mhm...” Jungkook relied, his voice almost playful as he continued, “You said didn’t care sense Jimin was the one paying. What about me though? What if I paid?”

He had a point, but was your dignity that low? You supposed, at this point in your life. It might as well been. Sighing you let you shoulders sag. Red faced you turned back towards the mirror as you unzipped the back letting the dress fall to the floor. 

Catching Jungkook’s eyes in the mirror, he had a hand resting on his chin, clearly enjoying the show. You had half expected him to remark about your body but none came, simply staying quiet as he observed. Maybe knowing it would send you into orbit if he did. Hanging the dress back up you plucked the next one off the hanger. Stepping into it as you pulled the material up and zipped in. It was flowy like the last one, the white brightened your skin and the tulle long sleeves cling to your wrists. It was long but sat more like a sheathe and the neckline plunged slightly.

Turning back to face Jungkook you raised you eyebrows though unable to look him in the eye, “Nice but needs color,” he stood up, making you shrink back slightly as he strolled over to the rack, plucking a rose gold pink gown as he wiggled a finger. Signaling you to follow as he stood in the middle of the room. Setting the gown down on the coffee table as you stiffly stood in front of the mirror.

You jumped slightly at feeling his hand press against your back, almost painfully slow he dragged it up your back before grabbing the zipper. Pull it down before letting the material fall off, leaving you exposed again, feeling a pang between your legs at the closeness. Awkwardly you looked towards the ground unable to meet his gaze again in the mirror as you clasped your hands, covering your exposed breasts.

Jumping again at the warmth of his fingers wrapping around your waist, one slithering down to grab your arm, the other grabbed your chin, his thumb stroking at your lip as he lifted your gaze, his lips soft as they grazed against your ear, “Look at me babygirl.”

His words alone were enough to make you rub your thighs together in attempt to cause friction. There was no denying Jungkook was immensely attractive, and even with only having met him once before you wouldn’t deny your body the honor of having Jungkook fuck you, which seemed exactly his intentions. 

Holding your chin he forced you to look up at the mirror meeting his eyes through it, his thumb intently stroking at your bottom lip while staring you down with a dark hunger in his eyes, glossed with lust as he wrapped a hand around your arm tugging it away as you obediently unclasped your hands.

Finally a smirk creeped on his lips as they pressed down against your neck, “That’s a good girl.” You almost whimpered at the praise as wetness began to shamelessly form in your panties. His lips dragging down your neck as he continued to watch your reactions in the mirror. His hands finally leaving their former position before looping around your waist, slowing letting his fingers trail up your stomach and to your breasts.

Pressing your lips together as you carefully watched his hands began to massage your breasts, squeezing slow but firm before pinching at your nipples making strangled yelp escape your lips as he began to nip against your neck, “Eyes up here princess, I didn’t give you permission to watch.”

Your face was a hot red and your panties were sticking to your wet folds as you trailed back up to lock eyes with him again, feeling his fingers pinch your hardening buds again as you let out a whimper, rubbing your thighs together as he let out a chuckle against your throat, “Do you want my fingers baby? Use your words.”

He had paused making you ready to protest only to realize it was his way of asking for consent, his original purpose in your dressing room had obviously strayed off path but then again you also anticipated this happening. He was extremely attractive and you hadn’t gotten laid in several months, you knew this was a likely case when you allowed him too stay, for good reason. Despite all warning signs in the back of your mind you nodded, “P-please...daddy.”

You watched his smile fade as lust consumed his eyes again at the lewd words, letting his fingers trail back down your stomach as he found a new spot on your neck to bite. His fingers played with the band of your underwear, it was a simple white lounge pair considering you didn’t have plans of getting laid on this trip. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind in the least as he let his fingers stroke over your clothed heat, “Already wet and I’ve barely touched you.” he tsked making you squeeze your thighs again. 

Letting his fingers find their way underneath the band of your panties as he let them take a long stroke up your sticky wet core. It both made you want to close your thighs again and simultaneously open them, choosing the ladder as you let your back press against his chest. His free hand went back to massaging your breasts as his other continued to stroke your wet cunt. 

Finally letting his fingers find their way to your clit, brushing over it causing you to buck your hips slightly, “Daddy please...” You murmured closing your eyes. He pinched your nipple once more causing you to jolt, letting his other fingers brush over your clit again as he murmured, “What do you want daddy to do?”

He rested his finger back on top of your clit, watching as you quickly began to shift your hips in attempt to get yourself off, “Let me cum daddy.” Your voice becoming strained as you finally let your ass press against him. Feeling an unexpectedly large dent pressed against his pants, letting your ass drag against his length in attempt to get his fingers to hit your sweet spot as he let out a small grunt.

His hand leaving your breasts to grab your hip, “Watch it babygirl, use your words or you won’t be cumming anytime soon.” His fingers suddenly began to move again at a faster pace as he began to explore your clit, making you whimper as you squirmed against him, the stimulation making you buck your hips and breathy moans escape your lips.

“Please daddy! Please!” You quickly whimpered as you attempted to press back against him, his hand on your hip, gripping it tightly keeping you from finding his length again. It didn’t last for long though as he let his other hand find its way down your band. His right still circling your clit before finding your sweet spot.

Making you moan as he nipped your neck again, “Not too loud kitten, unless you want everyone to know who’s taking you here.” Realistically you knew he was right but any thought of that had been thrown out the window when you let him stay in your dressing room.

His left hand began to stroke your wet cunt as the right continued to work your sweet spot making you grind against what was definitely a thick, long and harden dick making a grunt of approval escape him. Finally he let a finger slowly push inside you making you bite your lower lip, attempting to buck your hips as he tsked, “Impatient brats don’t get to come, be a good girl for daddy and don’t move.”

You whined at the command but did as you were told, letting him stroke you before sinking his first finger inside you while the other began to slow his pace with your clit despite the building pressure, “Mmm princess you’re so tight, I don’t know if you’ll be able to take daddy’s cock,” Just his words made you buck your hips again, your little walls clenching around his finger in excitement at the mention of his thick, swollen cock you kept grinding against, “Babygirl don’t be a brat, I told you not to move.”

Licking your lips you finally opened your eyes as you firmly pressed back against his length, locking eyes with him in the mirror. You were a mess of red cheeks and tangled hair as you grinded his hard twitching cock with a defiant smile, “Then make me.”

His jaw clenched and his eyes glowered, suddenly picking up the pace as he began to roughly drag his fingers back and fourth against your clit, shoving a second finger inside you becoming dragging his tips into your g-spot making you suddenly whimper throwing your head back against him, “Careful what you wish for you dirty slut. You like punishment don’t you?” He growled lowly in your ear as you felt two fingers sink into you pumping sharpingly, making the pressure in your core build faster.

You rocked your hips as much as you could to keep in pace with his fingers as you whimpered, “Y-yes...” his merciless gaze didn’t falter though as he added a third finger.

Making you bite your lip to keep from moaning too loudly, feeling his long digits fill you as they pumped further into you suddenly hitting your g-spot making you sharply buck your hips again as you moaned. His fingers on your clit finding their way back to your sweet spot as they both hit harmoniously in a ruthlessly speed. Your orgasm building higher and higher as Jungkook growled with a taunt in your ear, “Cum you slut, go on.” Just his words were enough to make you push closer to the edge of your orgasm. Feeling yourself at your peak, ready to unravel as you let out a moan.

The feeling however came to a jolting stop as he pulled all of his fingers off you. Your mouth suddenly opening into shock as you beggingly looked at him in the mirror, legs trembling at being so close to your high and not achieving it. Jungkook only glanced at you through the mirror ruthlessly, “Impatient brats don’t get to cum.” he repeated his words from earlier as he suddenly resumed brushing against your clit again, using two fingers inside of you instead of three as you began to obediently buck into them again as he pumped into you. 

His fingers dragged against the sweet spot of your clit again, your walls desperately clenching around his fingers making an embarrassingly loud squelch sound and the familiar pressure build in your core again, “D-daddy please let me come, please, I’ll be a good girl.” You whimpered begging as quietly as you could. Feeling him pinch your clit between his thumb and index finger as the other began to hit your g-spot again.

You let out a string of moans feeling the rush of your orgasm so close again, you wanted it so badly. So, so badly. Just as you felt it almost come over you Jungkook stopped again, almost making you whimper out a sob in the process from being so close yet again. This time almost painful as you tried bucking against his hands, “P-please daddy.”

“Learn to behave you brat and then talk to me.” Jungkook growled as he resumed his edging, letting his fingers brush back over your sensitive clit, while letting the over quickly pump you again, the feeling building much quicker then the last time. Despite knowing the inevitable end your hips were still fixed on trying to get your orgasm off, it was almost painful at this point bringing near tears to your eyes as you whimpered, “I’ll be a good girl daddy! Please let me come please! Daddy please!”

You kept murmuring it like a mantra as you continuing bucking your hips feeling the orgasm so close, you wanted it so badly. Clenching around his fingers, one more pump, just one you could feel it. But rather then one long pump Jungkook started shorter quicker thrusts with his fingers, continually hitting your g-spot as his fingers on clit began to stroke painfully slow.

Milking every last bit of your edge before you painfully almost orgasmed. On the verge of a scream that never came due to him stopping, tears glossing your eyes as you whimpered. The feeling excruciating as you continually bucked your hips in hopes of chasing your orgasm, “Naughty girls get punished, if you don’t listen to daddy this is what happens,” Jungkook despite wanting so badly to rough fuck you against the wall stood his ground firmly, “Let me put you over my lap and then I’ll consider.” The idea made you excitedly rub your thighs, rewetting your pussy that ached dully for its orgasm.

Jungkook had begun to lead you to the chair when a sudden ring went off. Temporarily grounding you to reality as you turned your head to look at him. His phone was going off, making him sigh obviously annoyed at the interruption, “Sit, legs open and let me take this call.”

Obediently you sat down, opening your legs qas he answered the call, “What?” His voice snappy and sharp, obviously annoyed not by the interruption anymore but by whoever called, “I’m busy, get someone else to do it.”

After a moment he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing loudly, “Personal project- that I was enjoying before you interrupted,” realizing he must’ve be referring to what you were both doing, however Jungkook seemed to be able to lie through his teeth flawless about finger fucking you just twenty seconds earlier. After a moment he gritted his teeth before speaking, “Fine, when do I have to be there?”

Another second went by before he looked towards the mirror, running a hand through his messy hair as he huffed, “Yeah whatever I’ll see you soon.” He dropped the call before putting it back on the inside pocket of his jacket. Sighing as he turned back to face you. Noticing his dark demeanor had been melted away by reality as he kneeled down grabbing your chin gently, “I have to negotiate a meeting in ten minutes so I have to go.”

“You’re seriously gonna leave me like this!?” You huffed out raising your eyebrows, a pout you didn’t even realize took over your lips. It made Jungkook grin before a smirk suddenly coiled on his face, “Let me take you for dinner tonight and I’ll make up for it.”

You were tempted to say no just to see the look on his face but after his performance with only his fingers you couldn’t even imagine what the rest of him was like, shaking your head you finally cracked a breathy laugh, “If you wanted to take me on a date you could’ve just asked without going the extra mile.”

Jungkook leaned in, his hand crawling up your thigh as he stroked the inside, letting your arousal spike again as you bit your lip frustrated, “I was going too regardless, but I don’t like letting opportunities pass by, seeing that pouty preorgasm face was worth it babygirl. 8 o’clock?”

“Sure.” You closed your eyes trying not to focus on his hand that gave your thigh one last squeeze before letting go.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair one last time, poorly fixing it as he stopped by the curtain, “One last thing baby,” he curved an eyebrow turning to face you, “No touching yourself allowed until then. Don’t want another punishment do you?”

Licking your lips you crossed your legs as you rested your elbows on the arm rests, finally a wicked smirk curled onto your lips as you rose your eyebrows, “Never, I’m a good girl.”

Jungkook had to leave while attempting to wipe the grin off his face. Playing with Jimin’s toys was a dangerous game but shit, when they made a face like that Jungkook couldn’t resist.

Sighing you collapsed into the chair, you hadn’t gotten laid in several months and you still managed to not get off in front of one of the worlds most richest and attractive young men. Way to-fucking-go.

Jimin never did show back up, finding a text from a private number saying it was him, coincidentally having to attend a meeting last minute as well. Briefly you wondered if it was the same one Jungkook went too. You ended up leaving the store empty handed despite Jimin saying you could just put it on his tab if you found something you liked. After seeing the price tags you couldn’t force yourself too. You explored parts of the hotel though, there was even an arcade on the 12th floor and an indoor pool.

None in which you were equipped to go into but it was amazing regardless. Eventually you got a text on your phone from your mother asking if you’d like to attend brunch with her and Seung. Seeing as you had nothing else better to do you went ahead and agreed. You’d need to warm up to this all eventually and putting it off wouldn’t make it go any faster. Sighing you made your way to 52nd floor which apparently had an incredible balcony view. It was reserved apparently but after hearing your last name the employee immediately let you back.

“Ah Y/n I’m glad you could join us!” Seung smiled brightly as he waved you over to the empty seat, “Let me introduce you to one of my closest friends.”

You however swallowed thickly not at who he waved too but who he sat beside. Why was it always Jungkook? He sat first on his phone not looking incredibly invested in the conversation until your name came up. Head suddenly shooting up with raised eyebrows, a smirk wiggling it’s way onto his lips as his phone was suddenly put back into his jacket. This child...

Ignoring Jungkook’s suggestive stares you gave a sheepish grin as you walked over, sitting across from Jungkook who on the right of him was accompanied by an older lady. She wore a black knee length pencil skirt and a green silk button up blouse that complimented her nicely. She wore simple yet elegant golden jewelry and her thick glossy black hair was styled effortlessly. This was undoubtedly his mother.

The man on his left was older and had gray accompanying his dark raven brown hair and his facial features were strong, clearly where Jungkook inherited his stronger features, his face however was fixed in an almost permanent scowl that suited his black silk suit well. This was the person who made you the most timid, “This is Jeon Hwan, his wife Soo Yun, and their son Jungkook.”

“Oh we’re well acquainted.” You closed your eyes as your smile tightened at Jungkook’s words. Not having to see to know the smirk that accompanied his expression. Why did he have to be so obvious? Even if they didn’t know they had to be able to figure out something was up.

Coughing as you nodded attempting to do damage control as you strained a forcibly relaxed smile while quickly explaining, “Oh yes, I met Jungkook earlier when I was with Jimin.”

Seung nodded enthusiastically, clearly delighted to see you were already becoming familiar with some of the upperclass families. God if only he knew Jungkook was three fingers deep in you two hours ago. None the wiser however Seung replied happily, “That’s good to hear! I don’t expect you to become thoroughly acquainted with my way of living. But I want you to know you’re always more than welcomed Y/n.”

You could tell, unlike Jimin’s words, his father’s were much more genuine and it made you give a small warm smile as you nodded. It made you wonder though, how could Jimin seem so cold if his father was so warm? Surely being raised in wealth wasn’t the cause? Jungkook was a fairly good testimony of that. The question lingered in the back of your mind but you outwardly chose to not say anything to Seung’s words as a plate was put in front of you by a server.

You could feel your stomach growling but you paused. Noticing Jungkook’s father watching you closely, making you sink into your seat as you tensely smiled. Was he accessing? He was definitely accessing you. Jungkook appeared confused at your expression before trailing your gaze back to his father. Making him frown as his expression dropped to one you could only adequately describe as resentment.

Looking back towards you Jungkook gave for the first time, an awkward smile that you assumed must of be an attempted reassuring one. Giving an awkward one back before it quickly melted as you sunk into your seat before glancing back down at your plate. This was going to be a painfully long day. Wasn’t it?

Note: hey babes! I wanted to get this up sooner but I haven’t really been feeling it with proof reading any type of smut buuut here we are! Gonna finish up the last scene of 6 and try and get a request finished today, wish me luck!!🖤

Tag list: @sapphireprinces5 @jazzytfw @theslumberingcat (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[ms31x129]

Haunted Dreams by Ms31x129 (Existence AU - Part 5)

Summary: Scully had chosen his jailer well.

Part 1- A Child Is Born, Part 2- Desperate Lullaby,  Part 3- Sacrifice & Part 4 - Faded Love

If I tagged you and you aren’t interested please ignore and sorry for the wait. This will probably be 7 chapters in all. Chapter Names will take you to AO3 if you prefer reading on Tumbler it’s below blog tags.

@cultureisdarkbeer @season4mulder @baronessblixen @kikocrystalball @kyouryokusenshi @piecesofscully @monikafilefan @today-in-fic @improlificinsarcasm @lappina @skullsmuldon @mulder-even-if @strangerinthesacredheart @wholeperson @mobygirl21 @faithfirst2016 @postmodernpromartheus @lmsmith099 @alienbaby-babymama @sandymans-world  @blossom-ofsnow @rationalcashew @thatsaprettycoolposter 

Scully had chosen his jailer well.

Three weeks had passed, father and son on their own, except for Gibson.

Mulder had fed William and placed him in his crib. He stood there hands on the railing and watched his son - even in sleep his small lips suckled. Was he dreaming of Scully? Dreaming of her voice? Dreaming of her smell or the soft skin of her breast under his hand? He remembered watching in amazement as she tickled William’s mouth with her nipple. And how eager his son latched on and drew that sweet rich milk into his mouth, his tiny hand on her breast fingers splayed. 

Each time was such a beautiful moment he would find his eyes wet - yet he felt contentment and a peace he didn’t think he’d ever known. A peace he was now without and questioned if he would ever have again.

Earlier that day Gibson had approached him and told him they would have to move soon. Mulder knew better than to ask, Gibson’s knowledge remained locked in his brain inaccessible, unlike Mulder’s own. Didn’t seem fair that Gibson had an all access pass into the ‘Mulder Inner Psyche.” 

Mulder heard Gibson’s footfalls behind him, but he did not turn.

“He is, he does.” Gibson’s voice was soft, “I don’t mean to intrude, but your thoughts and his are similar. Williams are indistinct but so pure. I know your words, but I see images and I hear sounds from your son.”

Mulder finally turned, “I’m listening.” The mossy hazel eyes meeting Gibson’s were Mulder’s yet not, like the spark for any type of truth or life had been extinguished.

“He wonders where she is. He sees her hair and hears her heartbeat…” Mulder noticed a blush rising on Gibson’s cheeks. “You’re right he’s dreaming of suckling and misses the taste. She’s humming to him and rocking, maybe? He’s sleepy, but he hears you over everything. He loves you both - it’s like a bright shining ball of light he so happy, he grabbed your thumb or finger and he’s falling asleep I think. He felt safe and secure.”

Mulder turned away wiping his eyes and looked back down at his son. Gibson sighed and stepped into the doorway, but he couldn’t leave just yet. “Mr. Mulder? He still does… he feels secure with you. He’s still happy… I - you know - I don’t know if my parents were really my parents in any biological sense, it seemed like they just were there. I wanted to say William is so lucky to have you for a father and Agent Scully for a mother.”

Mulder reached into the crib and picked up his sleeping son. He walked to the rocking chair and sat down. The motion soothed both father and son and as Mulder finally dozed he thought again… Scully had chosen his jailer well.

As the three of them moved from place to place 2 weeks here 3 weeks there Mulder could only marvel at the meticulous planning behind their journey. He knew Gibson was reading his mind, but Mulder vocalized it regardless.

“Scully planned everything.”

“Yes,” Gibson nodded and looked at Mulder. William was asleep in the car seat and they had stopped to pick up some burgers and fries on the way to the next location. “But the plan wasn’t for you.”

“What are you saying?”

“When you were taken and she didn’t find you in Arizona - she was so close - we both were. But then they found your body and you left everything to her - she started to plan. If after she gave birth and if she sensed any danger she was going to take the baby and run.”

Mulder shuddered when his mind flashed to pain, blood, the whir of blades, the high pitched sound of a laser. His own voice hoarse from screaming, screaming for Scully. He breathed slowly and forcefully pushed those thoughts back through the door that had briefly opened.

Mulder was quiet as he processed Gibson’s revelation, a response seemed useless, they finished their meal in silence. Mulder gathered the spent wrappers and containers, William was blinking his eyes when Mulder got back from the trash can. He opened the back door, unbuckled his son and picked him up. “Hey buddy.” Gibson handed Mulder the diaper bag, he nodded his head in thanks. “Yeah I thought I’d better change and feed him before we get back on the road.” 

Mulder took several steps before stopping and turning. Gibson resembled a young sentinel standing watch beside their Jeep. “Gibson - Scully was this really the only way?”

Gibson’s face was solemn. Mulder didn’t need any further acknowledgment, but he held William a little tighter though on his way to the restroom. It had been three months Mulder knew there was more he needed to know. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to hear it…

The camaraderie between Mulder and Gibson deepened as they spent time together eventually Mulder no longer thought of Gibson as his jailer, but as his young friend. Maybe even a younger brother. 

The dreams began the same night William babbled Da-da for the first time.

Mulder had just changed him and he was tickling William by rubbing his nose over the soles of his feet. It elicited giggles and squeals. Mulder then moved to his belly tickling and blowing several raspberries. Williams hands smacked Mulder’s head and he grabbed fistfuls of hair. Mulder gently pried Williams fingers apart and mock yelled, “Ow! Will don’t pull Daddy’s hair!”

Will continued to smile up at his father and that’s when it happened. “Da-da!” Mulder’s expression must have entertained his son and he repeated it several more times. “Da-da, Da-da, Da-da!”

Mulder swore his heart grew, just like the Grinch. His first word was Dada. That night though Mulder couldn’t stop the feelings of despair from creeping back in. Would he ever get the chance to hear his son say Mama? Would Scully?

She asked him to forget her. How could she not know even death was unable to eradicate her from his mind… or his heart.

That night he had his first dream of the beach.

Darkness. A beam of white reflected from starlight sparked and twinkled as it danced against the crashing waves at the water's edge. It calmed Mulder even with the waves reaching to the heavens against the nearby rocks, travelling through his auditory senses. In the distance stood a petite figure. Red-golden hair blew in the breeze covering the faceless figure staring out on the watery horizon.

"Scully!" Mulder cried out. His feet carrying him swiftly toward her. Slowly, the figured turned, like on a turntable rotating towards the music of his voice. The winds velocity gained in strength the closer Mulder got until instead of a pillar of salt like Lot's wife, she transformed to grains of sand. "Nooo!" Mulder screamed, but it was lost in the breeze. The sandy particles stealing her form -  kissing his flesh with biting pricks as they drifted past him in the wind.

Mulder woke up sweating, shaking, head and heart pounding. William was crying louder than Mulder had ever heard. Was something wrong? Mulder lurched to his feet and ran to the nursery. Mulder could see panic in Gibson’s eyes as he transferred William whose his face was beet red, his breath hitched and tears streamed down his cheeks into Mulder’s arms.

William’s fists pounded against his father’s chest, Mulder gently palmed his son’s head, thumb stroked his downy hair. He rested his lips against William’s forehead murmuring soothingly until William’s hitching sobs slowed and became a mournful mantra of “Da-da.”

Mulder’s legs were still shaky with the residual remnants of his dream and fear that something was wrong with his son. The rocking chair beckoned. Mulder followed the call and sat quickly re-positioning William he began to rock, the familiar motion soothed both father and son.

“What happened, Gibson?”

Gibson looked slightly nauseous a pasty almost green hue overtaking the panic that had been present on his face. He gulped, “I, I … your dreams - William’s - I can’t. I’ve got to go.” Gibson ran out of the room.

Gibson made it to the bathroom in time. After vomiting and dry heaving he was left feeling shaky and weak. He managed to splash cool water on his face and brushed his teeth staring at his reflection in the mirror, his head still aching as snippets of Mulder and William’s dreams spiraled through his head.

Gibson looked into the wastebasket wads of bloody tissues from his sudden nosebleed earlier lined the bottom. He didn’t want Mulder to see the evidence, didn’t want to add to Mulder’s worries. The pain had been excruciating like a bomb when off inside his head and Gibson had felt true fear in that moment.

After throwing away the small trash bag Gibson went into the nursery, Mulder and William were fast asleep in the rocking chair. Gibson grabbed a soft throw blanket and draped it over the exhausted father and son. They were both dreaming of the beach again, but it was calm and soothing. 

Gibson knew he wouldn’t find sleep for the rest of the night so he began to pack their belongings. Not much to do really - living from a suitcase was a part of life on the run. The next morning in subdued silence and after eating breakfast they loaded they loaded Silver Minivan. Exchanging vehicles during their journey at random safe houses was the norm as well.

Gibson and Mulder continued their discussions on the road. Gibson thought Mulder used his innately curious nature to avoid thinking about the woman he loved. Gibson answered as many as he could if he knew the answer.

“What happened to the creature in the Power Plant?”

“How did you get out? Why didn’t it hurt you?”

“Are they still here Gibson? Can you hear them?”

Gibson also discovered on this trip that usually when they neared a large city it was easier to block out the multitude of voices buzzing in his head. To focus only on Mulder and William - sometimes he would fall asleep during Mulder’s quiet times, which were few, listening to the slushing surf William shared.

They all had bags under their eyes - even the baby. A full night of rest was impossible. Gibson had another nosebleed and Mulder was in the rocking chair with William again. Gibson really didn’t want to intrude on Mulder’s dreams, but he was drawn in like a magnet.

Mulder and Scully were making love on a beach. Mulder’s white dress shirt was ripped open his tuxedo jacket under Scully - he still wore his trousers.  “I love you, Scully.” Mulder said as he stroked into her with a snap of his hips, wringing a deep moan from her. His head dropped and he sucked a nipple into his mouth swirling his tongue over the pebbled tip until Scully panted and his name was drawn out of her. 

He rolled until she was astride him, his hands guiding and following her hips - mimicking the ocean waves behind them. Scully was wearing a black dress the top of it hung around her waist. Her breasts swayed invitingly and he leaned up to lick one and then the other. She tightened around him the spasms rippling along his flesh pulling his own climax from him. She collapsed onto his chest, in moments their hearts were beating in tandem. Scully slowly sat up, Mulder grunted still half hard inside her.

“I’ll never forget this Scully.”

She looked down at him and shook her head sadly before leaning forward and gently kissing him. “You will.” She whispered before she sat up again and just like before she became sand and the wind consumed her. Mulder sprung to his feet yelling - looking around wildly. “Scully! Scully! Scu...ly,” before collapsing to his knees. “Don’t go.” He choked out.

Gibson found himself muffling his own cries into his pillow. The people he called his parents hadn’t loved him like that. Would anyone ever?

[wetalkinboutbooks]

My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite

Summary: When Korede’s dinner is interrupted one night by a distress call from her sister, Ayoola, she knows what’s expected of her: bleach, rubber gloves, nerves of steel and a strong stomach. This’ll be the third boyfriend Ayoola’s dispatched in, quote, self-defence and the third mess that her lethal little sibling has left Korede to clear away. She should probably go to the police for the good of the menfolk of Nigeria, but she loves her sister and, as they say, family always comes first. Until, that is, Ayoola starts dating the doctor where Korede works as a nurse. Korede’s long been in love with him, and isn’t prepared to see him wind up with a knife in his back: but to save one would mean sacrificing the other. (Taken from Goodreads)

Our Ratings:  

 → Geena:  ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️🌗 

 → Kae: ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️🌗 

Overall: 

My Sister, the Serial Killer is a thriller that delivers 😤 Oyinkan Braithwaite does an amazing job delving into the psyche of our main character even though there’s only a few hundred pages to this book. In addition, we also get a sense of every other character’s personalities (with some bias since it is first person). There’s wild plot twists and an ending that leaves your brain reeling! We highly recommend this book, it’s a quick read and pretty entertaining. 

~ Spoiler-full discussion below ~

The Good: 

→ The story

Kae: So, we start off with Korede receiving a call from her sister, Ayoola. She has killed another man and has class her big sister to help clean up her mess. Korede, as tired of her sisters shit as she is, drives to her sisters now DEAD boyfriends house to help dispose of the body. Her sister is always claiming self-defense, but Korede isn’t so sure. She’s a bit of an obsessive cleaner, so she scrubs his house clean, they throw his body in the river and continue on about their lives. Korede, not as easily as her sister. Korede is a nurse who has a crush on one of the doctors, Tade, who is just GOD’S FINEST MAN, according to Korede. Not in those words, but you get what I’m sayin’.  

Geena: SHE DESCRIBED HIM LIKE THE MAN OF EVERY GIRL’S DREAM

Kae: Boom! This is true. She’s madly in love with him. He can sing, is tall dark and handsome, and has a smile that outshines the sun. BUT, Korede is not conveniently attractive and is often overlooked by her beautiful sister, Ayoola. Though Korede doesn’t mind, it still irked me that everyone assumed she was jealous of Ayoola. They also treated Korede like the ugly duckling and I DID NOT like that shit AT ALL. 

Geena: Kae really hit all the main points, and I agree… I HATED how Korede was treated and looked at. Everyone around her seemed to look down on her (even her own mother???). Regardless of how she’s been treated due to her comparison to Ayoola, Korede loves her sister (like why else would she help hide 3 of her murders lmao) and would do ANYTHING (obviously) for her. Though that takes a hit when Ayoola waltzes into her hospital and the doctor she had a crush on falls head over heels for her. It’s just a wild ride from there as the doctor Korede thought was so perfect… just…. Rots??? LIKE HOW DO WE DESCRIBE THAT… His perfect man façade just fades as the story progresses. I really liked how the story progressed and we got to see how Korede’s opinions and thoughts change over the course of the novel like yaaas girl men ain’t shit!

Kae: Basically, yes men ain't shit and I love how his character just deteriorates in front of our eyes. That’s good writing because at first, I too was like “yaaaas, a perfect man!” then I was like “Ew, it stinks in here. Smell like funky ass Tade.” with that funky ass personality. 

→ Muhtar and Femi

Geena: DESPITE MY EARLIER POINT ABOUT MEN AIN’T SHIT, two men in this story were okay. Given that one was in a coma for half the book, and the other dead. Femi is the man that Ayoola murders at the start of the book, we learn about him as Korede keeps track of his family and how they react to his “disappearance.” Femi was a Soft Boy™ that wrote poetry and was lowkey jacked (according to Korede as she helped wrap his corpse). Femi essentially haunts Korede’s conscious, like the first man that Ayoola has murdered that wasn’t an absolute bag of shit (once again… according to Korede). I also liked how Femi’s voice in Korede’s head was the loudest when she was the most anxious about Ayoola murdering Tade… but as the novel progresses we hear less from ‘Femi’. AND LIKE…. OYINKAN IS SUCH A GOOD AUTHOR… all these subtleties that I didn’t even notice till now.. 

Kae: GEENA, YOUR MIND. I didn’t even peep that until you said it. But yes, to all of it! And now, we have Muhtar. Muhtar is a patient that’s been a coma for a few months that Korede has been caring for. She also talks to him about the murders her sister commits and how she helps clean the mess. You’d think this is alright because Muhtar has been in a coma for months, so he won’t tell anyone. WELL DING DONG, YOU ARE WRONG…. Kind of. Because my boy wakes up and he remembers damn there everything. Korede is shook (but I saw it coming hehehehe) so she then begins to avoid him. But, he requests her. He thinks her voice is what saved him and kept him alive while he was in a deep, comatose sleep. She begins to learn that he is a professor and that his wife was MAYBE TOTALLY POSSIBLY (absolutely) having an affair with his brother while he was knocked tf out. Korede is nervous because Muhtar remembers everything, but he assures her that he will not tell her secret. But he DOES tell her that continuing to aid her sister is going to destroy her little by little. He’s kind of right. But he, along with Femi, is a voice of reason for her. Muhtar is also one of the few people that treats Korede like a decent human being. He never mentions her appearance or if he thinks of her as a bad person. In his eyes, she is his angel that saved him from completely drowning in the sea of darkness that was his coma. We stan Muhtar! He even wanted to stay in touch with Korede after he recovered, but Korede reluctantly, burned his number. She wanted to leave him in the past, like all the murders she helped clean up. 

Geena: Ugh yes, I was thinking that maybe Korede saw Muhtar as an uncle/father figure, because their own father was absolutely garbage like…. TW for reading this book because their father is honest to god the WORST. I feel like if she had kept his number and talked to him she would’ve been able to break out of the toxic cycle of helping her sister get away with murder but I guess it wasn’t in her fate :(

The Bad :  

→ Korede 

Geena: Our heroine is UNFORTUNATELY the bad of the book. We sympathized with her a lot, she was the eldest sibling that always got the short end of the stick both at home and work, but she was expected to be perfect nonetheless. Yet, as the story progresses and the solutions to her problems become glaringly obvious (pls turn in ur sister… even though at this point your complicit) Korede turns a blind eye and continues to fall under the influence of Ayoola. We had hoped that by the end of the series Korede would have realized that blood isn’t thicker than water…. But :// I MEAN I understand why narrative wise but IT STILL WAS FRUSTRATING like…. 

Fate: *presents the perfect chance for Korede to be free of Ayoola*

Korede: *slips on sunglasses* suddenly… I can’t read 

Kae: Yeah, I sympathized with Korede a lot. Like, she was always overlooked, talked down to, and treated like she was less than. But she’s honestly the true definition of “ride or die” *ba doom tiinnngg*. I do wish that even if she didn’t turn in her sister, she would’ve at least moved out of her toxic home away from her murderous and toxic ass sister. Like Geena said, she had the perfect opportunity to solve her probbies, but she just kept up with the shits. THOUGHHHHH. Her sister DID attempted to kill Tade and failed and that kind of backfired. Ayoola claims Tade was beginning to think Korede killed Femi and Ayoola was like “oh shit…” then stabby stabby, missed him, BOOM. He stabs her instead. It’s a whole thing but they get out of it. Blame it on Tade. Self defense and all that jazz. But YES, I’ve gone off topic. Korede got stuck like chuck. 

Geena: LMAO YES KAE WORDED IT PERFECTLY! And now that you mention it… I’m like…. What did Ayoola say that led Tade to believe that Korede killed Femi 👀 Ayoola was fr gaslighting our poor girl the whole time like… OKAY I KINDA WANNA TALK ABOUT AYOOLA BC HOLY SHIT THAT GIRL…. HOW U GONNA CASUALLY LICK ICE CREAM WHILE LOOKING THE SISTER OF THE MAN U KILLED IN HER FACE AND BE LIKE “OMG IS THERE ANY NEWS?” LIKE……. WHERE IS HER OSCAR? AND HER JAIL SENTENCE… My mind was REELING… Also, I GUESS Korede’s choice makes sense, she chose to protect Ayoola since they were kids (from their shitty ass dad) and I guess that trauma just forced her to follow the same path. 

The Ugly: 

→ Tade 

Kae: Geena was so right about everything she said about Ayoola. HONESTLY. TRULY. Now, Tade… Tade, Tade, Tade. Not gonna lie, I was swooning right along with all the other ladies at the beginning of the book. He was described as the perfect gentleman. He is basically what every girl (or boy or anything in between or not) would want. Then, as the story progresses, we see Tade as well… a fuck boy. Like, backtracking a bit, Ayoola mentioned that Tade was just like the rest. He saw a pretty face and nothing else. And well, Ayoola was right. He didn’t know shit about Ayoola, her little quirks, or even what she liked. He just thought she was pretty and was ready to put a ring on it. He began to ignore Korede, only talk to her if it was about Ayoola, and eventually came to speculate that Korede was the one to kill Femi. He thought like this because he grouped pretty faces with lovely things, and well… ugly faces with ugly things… Like murder and jealousy. We slowly began to see that Tade was just like the rest of them and that was ANNOYING AS SHIT. ESPECIALLY when he starts getting up Korede’s ass, saying she’s a bad sister and jealous and bitter. Korede was nothing but nice to his STANK ASSSSSS and in the end, he couldn’t even be nice in return. MIND YOU. He’d only known Ayoola for like a month or two, but had known Korede for like a year or so. Annoying. 

Geena:  HARD AGREE ON EVERYTHING KAE SAID, because holy shit Tade deteriorated faster than Femi’s corpse. He really saw Ayoola once and forgot about Korede. Our girl out here used to COOK for his dumbass… She used to listen to him talk about everything, and Korede was ready to give him the world. The funniest part in the whole book was when Tade is going batshit crazy because he finds out that Ayoola cheated on him and Korede sees his condition and was like pathetic.jpeg… But they share a moment there??? And Korede tries to tell him that Ayoola is a serial killer and Tade is like “I KNEW YOU WERE A BACKSTABBING BITCH!!”  while Korede was like… the only stabbing bitch here is Ayoola but alright. Not to mention when he brings out the ring for Ayoola and he’s talking like a crackhead about how much he loves Ayoola and Korede asks “Oh, so what do you like about her.” *CUE SILENCE* Tade is like “OH you know she’s super pretty and I wanna be with her.”......... like……… if that ain’t the most fuckboi shit……… I guess that was the point Korede was like “men ain’t shit!!!!” making it easier for her to just turn him over to the cops when he stabs Ayoola. GOD he was fucking annoying, kinda disappointed that Ayoola didn’t kill him :/// hoo boy thinkin bout that man gives me a headache… the absolute stupidity……………. Korede was wearing them heavy rose-coloured glasses at the start of the book and we got to read them shatter so that was a good touch!

→ Ayoola

Kae: AYOOLA. The perfect, pretty little sociopath. This girl is honestly something else. Sometimes I would have to scoff at the gall of this girls ability to not give a single fuck. Ayoola really murdered Femi, called Korede, then was just chillin on her phone or whatever while Korede cleaned up the mess. She has to have this like, impulse feeling where she hears Kill Bill sirens and sees red, then just straight up STABS OL’ DUDE and then she’s back to normal like “oops, I did it again.” and this bitch just be like WELP GOTTA CALL BIG SISSY TO HELP ME la dee daaa. She even participated in Femi’s hashtag on Insta. Home girl was DANCING IN HER ROOM after killing him. This would honestly make a great movie, ngl. 

Geena: YOU’RE SO RIGHT IT WOULD MAKE A GREAT MOVIE, I’d pay to see this made. God.. Ayoola was actually psycho just after a week she murders her bf she decides to go on to the next one? Like girl wasted NO time moving on, even though the whole time she was with Tade she was, like Kae said, participating in Femi’s Insta hashtag like “omg where is my man :(((“. ALSO the way she expects Korede to not question her after she kills a man? Korede will simply insinuate that Ayoola murdered someone and this girl would be like “YOU SEE ME AS A MONSTER????? IS THAT HOW IT IS?” Making Korede feel bad and backtrack. ALSO, like Kae mentioned…. AYOOLA WAS NEVER STRESSED??? Even when the cops rolled through to question her and Korede, Ayoola was like ~sips drink~ “I’m sure Korede has this figured out.” Going to project for a second and be like.. That’s such a younger sibling thing to do? Like never stressing about anything because they’re sure their older sibling will make up for them.

Kae: And we do. We totally make up for them. Because if they’re not going to do it, it falls on you ANYWAY and I honestly don’t like seeing my little sister get in trouble so, I get it. She only deserves to get in trouble if I think she deserves it. Mostly because we totally raise our younger sibs. We lowkey “momma bear” them. 

Conclusion 

Geena: This book was pretty short, only a few hundred pages, but it was fucking JAM PACKED!! It was a thriller, every chapter you were like “Ok this is where Ayoola snaps!!” or “This is where the cops catch them!”  but NAH! I really enjoyed the writing even though the ending made me wanna SCREAM, Oyinkan Braithwaite does a really good job at foreshadowing and so on. For example, foreshadowing Muhtar waking up (which I should’ve seen but I was drinking that dumb bitch juice). Rated it 3.5/5 because I think there was room for Korede to grow past what she has known but sometimes we just fall back into what we’ve always done :/ 

Kae: I agree. It was a short book but it was jam packed with entertainment and I never knew what was going to happen next. I really enjoyed reading it and I loved how modern it was with it’s mentions of Insta and Snapchat. I liked that Korede dealt with all of her trauma by excessive cleaning. I liked that it showed a real coping mechanism, even if it was under horrible circumstances. I liked all of the characters and the way Oyinkan wrote them. I loved going deeper into these characters personalities. The ending did piss me off, but IT’S A THRILLER BOOK. So I should’ve seen incoming *small violin*. I too, give it a 3.5/5. 

Geena: BUT YA I’D SAY THIS IS A GOOD BOOK REGARDLESS OF THE ENDING RIGHT? I really liked everything UP to the end skfjns… PLEASE READ IT!!

Kae: YES. READ IT. IT’S SOOO WORTH IT. IT’S A WILD RIDE BAYBEEEE. 

[filichkin]

"The Perfect Storm"

Cool air, precursory of the upcoming gale, was filling the bedroom, moonlight crawling inside through the imperceptibly unveiled curtains, gently illuminating one side of the bed, as if searching for company in such a lonely time of day. It delicately accentuated elements of the decor, awaking memories in Steven's sleep-deprived mind.

Moon Goddess Statue. He remembers that ache he felt, when he looked Pearl in the eyes and saw an emotion way too familiar, even though it was usually hidden with supportive, yet condescending smile — disappointment. Misery, that he felt at that point, prodded his entire being, manifesting into a knot of exposed wires somewhere at his core. Dread of not being given another chance. He isn't needed anymore. He was finally trusted and he didn't honour that trust.

Universe was lying wide awake, weakly staring at the ceiling, his face drenched in a mixture of forced tranquility, ennui and despair. He placed one of his hands on the chest, trying to focus on his own heartbeat, methodically counting every thump, hoping to find something, anything that is able to engulf his concentration just enough to ease the swarm of thoughts in his mind and let him rest in the arms of Morpheus at long last. The beats, pulsing through every blood vessel, were monotonous, predictable, as if this noise was giving out a command to relax his body, but the consciousness kept sobbing from the never-ending enervation.

Aside from his pulse and the tides, crashing in the veil of an erstwhile serene night, a constant buzzing of Steven's old electric alarm clock could be heard. Once a beloved ice cream mascot, left in the room as a way to honour the memory of the simpler times, now was exclusively an inducement of the deep-seated, dull sense of shame. Shame for being the only person, who persistently and willingly abandons themselves in the past. In futile attempts of creating stability in his life, the boy bound himself to phases of his familial history that were always destined to sink into oblivion, and now those unbudgeable chains were dragging his very soul to the Erebus. Steven is not the same individual as he used to be, he knows that. But who is he then? Who could he possibly be now, if he already zealously discarded the persona of a visibly joyful kid he once was; the kid his loved ones seemingly see him as to this day?

This anxiety knelled in his mind for years with no end in sight, but coming to terms with something like this was nearly impossible. Even though the moonlight, dispersing itself across his nightstand kept bringing Steven's attention to the unintentionally distressing mementos, he couldn't bring himself to close the curtains. That would rid him of the only companion he trusted enough to show his sincere emotions to, at least as sincere as they possibly could be after all this time of repression.

Worries and fears feast on minds of those, who are left alone in the darkness for too long. The shadows found their way into people's eyes and there they stayed, like a fever you can't sweat out. Sometimes Steven noticed something similar in Connie's glance, whenever he mentioned her past. She would come up with a light-hearted remark, chuckle and put on a frail smile, cloaking the fragments of desolation, once prevailing in her psyche. Feelings of solitude, neglect, lostness, hopelessness of ever being understood. She gathered strength over time, of course, but couldn't have Steven done something sooner? Couldn't he try harder to muster the courage to approach her at the Boardwalk Parade all those years ago? She desperately needed help, she needed support, but he left her behind like a coward. He could've changed someone's life for the better, he should've exerted himself just for a fraction of light and placidity in that sad knowing smile she would give him before saying goodbye. He should've done everything he is possibly capable of, but right now he was left alone, frantically looking at the photograph, standing on top of his headboard, directly into Connie's eyes. He defeatedly searched for forgiveness from a person he loves deeply, who was frozen in time right in front of him. He would never find an answer he was looking for, unable to bring himself to initiate this conversation in the first place.

Throughout all of these years of running — where from and where to? — Steven was never able to get used to a "normal" way of living. Faces of friends and those close to him regularly haunted him in his dreams, but the uncertainty in their attitude towards this lost kid seemed intentional, malicious, as if he never even deserved their rightful anger. His days were loaded with meaningless rush, trying to assist anyone, who needed at least the tiniest amount of support, because that was the only way to drown the pang in his heart, constantly reminding him of guilt related to a multitude of mistakes in the past. Anything he ever did, he did for them. But it was never enough. He must try better. He must know better. Why, regardless of all of his strives, he could never do anything right? He just wants to fix everything. But time continues mercilessly moving forward...

Hours, spent in this storm of thoughts, wouldn't let him alleviate the stress until the sun started rising. Steven's body ached from stagnation, but he knew to ignore the discomfort that was all too familiar to him. He couldn't allow himself to skip even a minute of this new day, he couldn't let himself create new mistakes, that would join the daily swarm of butterflies appearing in the moonlight every time he attempted to fall asleep, that no one but Universe could see. Nights were always hard for him, but only in those moments of silence he would grant himself a right to disenthrall his poise and follow the stream of his unleashed inner world, where the only thing left to do was to endure the anguish from his self-torturous mind.

[catdaddydef]

❤️💖💘💓💝💕❣️💟❣️💕💝💓💞💘💖❤️💝💞💕💖

Tagged by the lovely @enderkate and the wonderful @ahgase55g7

The rules are:

1. Tag the person who tagged you

2. Answer the questions.

3. Tag 10 people

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE U GUYS

•How tall are you?

5’2 and flourishing. Give me a tall man tho, but I'mma still wear the pants. Everyone in my family is literally the same shape and height. The genes are hella strong.

•What color and style is your hair?

I dye my hair all the time, but my natural hair color is a lightish brown. Right now I have it a pretty dark shade of brown, but an thinking of dying it again. I have super long, straight, and THICK hair. It’s getting hotter out and I am about to chop it all off. I really want to bleach my hair, but that is too big of a step.

•What color are your eyes?

Brownnnnnn.

•Do you wear glasses?

Only when I drive or am in class. I have tried everything, but my glasses always leave a weird indent where my makeup is on my nose. So, I try to get by without them.

•Do you wear braces?

No. I actually sucked my thumb until I was ten, so I am surprised my teeth aren’t messed up, and I have really straight teeth. Maybe sucking my thumb moved them back into place? Is that even a thing?

•What’s your fashion sense?

I love fashion so much omg. I usually go for a vintage look, but am really into athletic fashion. If I could wear vintage Chanel or Versace everyday, I would, but your girl is broke. I desperately want a Chanel boy bag, so sugar daddy where u at?

I tag a lot of fashion under INSPO. So, if you ever see that tag, that’s what u will see me wearing or wanting to buy.

•Full name?

Ashley Rose. Idk if I want to put my full name because I am dodging the feds. JK JK

•When were you born?

August 5, 1997. 🦁♌🦁

•Where are you from and where do you live now?

I’m from Minnesota in the US. Reppin that northern twang. I live in Minneapolis, which is the biggest town in our state. It’s smaller than Chicago, but just the right size to get a small town feel in an urban city.

•What school do you go to?

I’m in university right now at the University of Minnesota. I’m a third year studying Psychology and Family Therapy. My goal after getting my degree will be to go onto grad school, either for Psychology or Social Work.

•What kind of student are you?

I was always the class clown, but in uni there are to many people to be wildin like that haha. I actually really love school and enjoy all of my classes. I worked really hard to get here, so I am milking it for all it’s worth. My grades are really nice, and I pride myself in saying that because I have went through such a tough time and still willed myself to keep up with school.

•Do you like school?

I’m a nerd yeah.

•Favorite subject?

Anything psych related. I’m in this cognitive psychology course right now and I love learning about the brain and how it explains our actions. Did you know we can live with only half a brain?

•Favorite TV show?

I love love love love love Naruto. It will forever be my favorite childhood memory, especially with my sister. That being said, I love anime as a whole. Right now I am watch JoJo and it is giving me life. Some of my other fav’s rn are The Haunting of Hill House, The Office, and That 70’s Show. I was a big Game of Thrones fan, but I didn’t like that they diverted from the books, so they lost me there.

Oh! And I am a huge reality TV fan. I have seen almost every season of The Challenge, watched Flavor of Love and I Love New York a million times, and Keeping Up With The Kardashians is a guilty pleasure. Say what you want, but I have been watching that show since 2008.

•Favorite Movie?

I’m a sucker for any emotional, sad movie. I love Titanic, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, A Star is Born, Edward Scissorhands, yeah. But my all time favorite movie would be the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy. I can recite the whole script of Dead Man’s Chest and don’t even doubt it.

I just recently saw Akria and have been super obsessed with it, so that may potentially be a favorite.

And The Room is such a gem to me. Midnight showing are such a mood.

•Favorite books?

Hands down the Harry Potter series. I have read them all three times. I also am an avid fanfic reader. Go support your fandom writers plz. They are so precious.

 These are some of my favorite writers @prettywordsyouleft @urlocalkpoptrash @katdefbeom @ahgaseda

Favorite pastime?

I’m a huge YouTube Stan. Like, I spend most of my free time watching shitty videos. I’m one of Trishy’s Fishies 🐠🐠🐠

I am super in love with my cat, Miss Boo. So, I try and spend and give as much love to her. ♥️

Something I really love doing is finding new animes to watch with my sister, so shout out to her!

•Do you have any regrets?

I do, but if I had the chance to take them back, I wouldn’t. I have struggled a lot, but realizing that my mistakes have made me grow and learn is something I cherish.

I regret not fully standing Got7 till If You Do. I watched their little asses from debut, but fell in completely later on. Foolish.

•Dream job?

I’m so looking forward to what is ahead of me in social work and therapy. BUT I have always wanted to be an ice skater. Deadass. Or do something in fashion.

•Would you ever like to be married?

Yes! It will happen when it happens, but I know I would really love to grow old with someone and build a family. Let’s hope my prince gets his ass together and come find me. I’ve been waiting.

Where u at Jaebum. The fuck.

•Would you like to have kids?

Definitely. I want to have a huge family with a bunch of pets. I grew up with a yellow lab and when I am out of uni I want to adopt one. Also, I want to have an army of cats.

•How many?

Deadass five or more. Let’s go womb.

•Do you like shopping?

It is a bad habit. Don’t get me started. I admit I spend too much money on stupid stuff. I am such a makeup addict so plz keep me away from Sephora.  

•What countries have you visited?

Italy and Greece! I really want to travel more, but my wallet says no, no, no, no, no. I will probably end up living in Minnesota for the rest of my life because I want stay close to my family. Family means everything to me.

Regardless of being labeled as a kpop fan, I would love to visit Korea. I studied four semesters of Korean and would love to put it to use. I have also been a fan since 2013, so through kpop I have taken in a lot of the Korean culture. It would be a dream trip.

•Scariest nightmare you have ever had?

Waking up. JK. I don’t really remember my dreams all that much, but any dream where either someone has died or I am getting chased really freaks me out. I use to have really bad sleep paralysis, but I never had any hallucinations, just the experience of not being able to move or breath is super trippy.

•Any enemies?

Only myself.

•Any significant other?

Yeah, that spot is open right now. Please send in your applications.

I’m pretty sure Jaebum is single right now, just saying.

•Do you believe in miracles?

I want to, but I physically do not think they actually happen. I am a really practical person, but am open to learning and wishing.

I am suppose to insert a Got7 Miracle quote here hehe?

•How are you?

Gucci. Stressing and excited because the semester is coming to an end. And also super hyped because I just ate some good food. Hehe.

Tagging these lovely people! I’m not sure who has done this or not, but if you want to, JUST DO IT! 

@lordofassgard @jacksonurs @defsoulsgirl @tuanamino @empressjiaer @youngjaelitist @prettywordsyouleft @mark-tuan-and-namjoon-lover

[xdefending]

                                    LORELEI IN THE DEADLANDS

Lorelei’s psyche was heavily impacted by her time spent in the realm of Mehrunes Dagon. The distress upon entering an oblivion gate -- the uncertainty of whether she would emerge from it again -- took its toll on her; not that she ever let it show, of course, relentlessly entering gate after gate, keeping as many Daedra at bay as she could while Martin worked endlessly to translate the Mysterium Xarxes. She knew that he had plenty of weight on his shoulders as well, and didn’t want to add any unnecessary burden on them in the form of her own rapidly declining mental health. Still, despite her perseverance and unyielding courage, there are simply some memories of traversing through Dagon’s wretched plane that will haunt her for as long as she breathes.

The heavy, putrid stench of rotting and burning flesh, the unbearable h e a t, the screams of agony that never silenced, the list goes on, really. Behind her mask of ferocity lied a face of terror. It was always better when she wasn’t alone, as being responsible for the lives of others urged her to keep her head on her shoulders, but the added pressure and concern for her comrades gave her a preference for venturing solo, regardless of her fear. And on the occasions that she did embark alone, unsure of what lie in wait for her, well... no one ever witnessed that Lorelei on the other side of the gate. The Lorelei whose hands trembled against the grip of her sword, whose wide eyes took in so much red, whose skin crawled and whose blood curdled at the petrifying sounds of pain and despair and death. So much death. No one suspected the existence of that Lorelei, for she disappeared as soon as the hero emerged from a collapsing gate, sigil stone in hand, defiance and victory written on her features. She couldn’t allow even a hint of her consistent anguish to slip through that mask, for that mask gave people hope. It mattered not what it cost her; she could not take that hope away from them.

There was a particular incident in which Lorelei did not escape a portal in time after retrieving the stone, and when it closed, she found herself trapped in the Deadlands. With the former sigil tower having collapsed with the removal of the stone from its beacon, it left her no choice but to traverse the molten plane in search of another. The process took her nearly a month; a month of navigating such a frightening hellscape, a month of only as much rest to keep her going, a month of always looking over her shoulder and never lowering her guard, a month of fighting to stay alive, a month of not knowing whether she would ever see Tamriel again... A month of the consistent fear that she was going to either die or remain in that hot, rancid, horrid place forever.

Sometimes, the nightmares of it still plague her, centuries later.

She still doesn’t talk about it.

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

My Design V

---

“INSIDE THE MIND OF A HUNTER-KILLER: A profile of the unprofilable. By Freddie Lounds

I met her at a coffee shop in a small town in Missouri. There were normal, every day people all around us going about their business. Ordering coffee. Wiping their children’s hands. Typing a novel that will never come to pass. All without knowing they were within killing distance of the most enigmatic murderess in the United States of America.

Her name is Joanna Beth Harvelle. She is a blonde, 5″4 and 117lbs. She grew up in a small town in Nebraska as an only child, her father passing away when she was a child and her mother both caring and over-protective. On paper, her last known location was at the University of Nebraska where she flunked out of her arts course within six months.

On very special paper, deep within the confines of the criminal behavioural profiling unit at the FBI, her last known location - at least according to her - was in Massachusetts where she left three bodies decapitated and the heads subsequently burnt. Such description is in her own words, and said with a smile…”

Will did not get the chance to continue the article as a meaty hand slammed the top of his laptop down. Following the arm up, he was unsurprised to find the enraged face of Jack Crawford staring back at him.

“How is it that Freddie Lounds can get a face to face with that monster, and you, my prize profiler, can’t even tell me where to start looking for her?” Jack practically growled the words out, snarl upon his lips more animal than human.

Will rolled back in his chair away from the desk, hands dropping to between his knees as he dropped his gaze. It was hard to be impassive when he had been interrupted from reading about her, reading someone else’s take on the woman that followed him everywhere in the last year. He had been able to distract Jack for months with other cases, other profiles, other murderers. He had been able to pretend that her words didn’t haunt his mind the same as Garrett Hobbs when walking through a scene beside the other man. He had been able to hide her from the other - all the bits of her that followed him around, that twisted him about, and seduced his very senses from him. He had even been able to conceal her from Jack’s spy in Hannibal. Of that, Will was exceptionally proud.

“Freddie Lounds is an easier person for someone to reach out to.” He found his voice falling into a soft contemplation, as if mulling the words over in his mind rather than having rehearsed them the moment he saw the interview go live. It was true though, Freddie Lounds would have been the easiest person for her to contact if she simply wanted to speak with someone. Easier than having made her way into Will’s home, easier than having followed Will to crime scenes, than having convinced him to appear and speak with her. Easier by far than infiltrating Quantico and entering his classroom. “And you know Freddie, she would have been gnawing at the bit to publicise something like this.”

“Ah yes, Freddie and her love for a good story.” Will barely batted an eye at the tone from the other man, as Jack seemed to talk himself out of the fury towards Will himself and redirected towards the writer of the article. It barely bothered Will as he stood to leave, headed for the lab for the most recent case, that he was able to manipulate the other man as efficiently as he did. “Any leads on the new case?”

“Not just yet.” His reply was left behind with the other man as Will left the room.

—

“ ‘She orders another round of drinks for us both, and leaves a 25% tip for the waitress who brings them over. “I used to work in hospitality,” She says, the affectionate smile on her face that of someone who knows the hatred of customer service, “I know how much that work sucks.” I find myself nodding in agreement at that idea. “ Brian recited across the labratory as the trio worked over the most recent body. “Sounds like a woman after my own heart…”

“A woman who will rip your heart out of your chest cavity, you mean.” Beverly responded, hand currently working to clean off a cut across the throat of their current case body. “Definitely someone you should try to meet, Brian.”

“She has a boyfriend, or a husband perhaps by now. Regardless, she wouldn’t be interested in you Brian.” The words announced his entrance into the workspace, Will barely surpressing the desire to turn around and leave at the three sets of eyes turning to look at him. Before Beverly could open her mouth to ask, he held up a hand and moved towards the group. “She’s not that hard to read into, and if you’ve ever seen her crime scene photos theres always some sentimental jewellery on. Joanna Harvelle isn’t on the market.”

“You sound a bit dejected there, Will. You been profiling her and got beat to the punch?” Jimmy’s quip cut through the slightly awkward silence that Will’s observations had brought up, and got a laugh from the other two investigators as he moved to sit down on the edge of one of the metal desks. “Freddie Lounds really is cold hearted to take that interview, and expose others to that psychopath.”

“Pretty sure she’s not counted as a psychopath, Jimmy, that bit about family clearly meaning that there is human connections in her life.” Beverly corrected, eyes focussed on determining the depth of the wound on their current victim.

The three men fell into a contemplative silence as two of them refocussed upon their tasks and the third thought over the other man’s words. It didn’t need much thinking though, Will knew that he was dejected at the idea his bloody angel wasn’t something he could attain. That she was only for looking, but not for touching. She reminded him of Alana in that way, however the restriction was much harder to follow through with as he thought over when he would next be free to dive into Freddie Lounds’ website.

As he removed debris from the fingertips, Jimmy broke the silence. “ “I wouldn’t call them murders,” the woman said, a hand rubbing at the back of her neck, “I would call it a civic duty. Perplexing as that may sound. I mean, I love Batman but he’s wrong - if you kill murderers, the number of killers does change with enough gone”. The fact a lot of those victims of hers are unidentifiable… Makes you wonder who they are, doesn’t it?”

“Makes you wonder that a murderer is quoting a comic book like it validates her actions.” Beverly shot back, brow raised before asking, “Is there any perp tissue under those nails?”

“Nah, this is just dirt-gunk from the look of it.” The other replied, wiping the contents into a tube before starting on the next nail. “Batman is an interesting choice to pick though - a murderer quoting the hero who refuses to kill.”

“She doesn’t quote him because they are different, she quotes him because they are the same. She sees herself ridding her world, or rather her country, of those that intend to hurt it.” Will finds himself speaking aloud as much as speaking to himself. His eyes glaze as the pendulumn wipes for him, unaware of the pause of the other three in their work. He rarely empathised in front of others, and the trio had not seen him ever perform the task in front of them or about something other than crime scenes. “Jo is a fighter, she’s a vigilante driven to save those both knowing and unknowing of her work to do so. Like Batman. And like him, she has a secret identity, a secret life, a normal life…”

His voice trailed off, eyes raised to look across the labratory as he saw her approaching him this time - her coming to him, rather than him always chasing her - bare feet padding across the cold concrete of the floor. Her hair was mussed, pulled back into a pony tail but tendrils draping around her face which smiled warmly at him. She was dressed to sleep, he knew that, somehow, from the white man’s shirt that swallowed her frame and the bare legs that showed beneath it. His bloody angel left a trail of bloody footprints behind her as she moved her way to him.

She was in the midst of another of her killing sprees - on a hunt - and met Lounds just that morning. She had spoken with the redhead at length, laughed at the right times and made the right jokes to come off as approachable, and shared her psyche for the world in a way she would refuse to with anyone of a psychiatric profession. His lure shone brightly under the other woman’s light, and she had read the early edition of the story that night before she planned to sleep. She knew it would reach the person it was intended for, she knew he would see her. That through Freddie Lounds, she would be able to reach out and touch him after going silent from his waking life for three months.

The thought reached him as she did, hand outstretched to his cheek, and as Will leant into it the vision disappeared - the trio of investigators staring at him from over the body of their current case - he wished that it had been real.

---

The clock read 2:37 in the dark room when he woke with a start. There was the sweat that his nightmares always brought, but it was cold on his skin as the breeze blew through the room.

His family were still at rest, not disturbed by the disturbance that had woke him, and he could see them laying sleeping, dozing or relaxing before the fireplace. They were not what had woken him.

As he turned to the other side, the disturbance became clear - hair glowing white in the pale illumination of the room from his laptop, doe eyes staring back at him. The screen lighting her face still showed the article that had summarised her in all ways but the truth. He had poured over it all day, and fell alseep to the warm glow of it - before the truth he had been searching for it in had woken him to the reality again.

“Hi again.” Her voice cut through the quiet night noises, one hand tucked under her head as she looked back at him. It had been her arrival, her presence in his bed, that had woken him from slumber but it was her voice that woke him from his dreams. “How did you like my interview?”

“Freddie Lounds is a hack.” Will thought his voice sounded rough to his ear, crackled from sleep but harsh in intent as well. “She wrote you all wrong. Too sweet, too friendly, too normal.”

“Am I not sweet, or friendly, or normal, Will?” It was the question for the ages, and he rotated to lie facing her. Seeing her like this was almost like a dream, like he would wake up drenched in real sweat this time, longing for it to have been real. 

He shook his head at her question, mimicking her position as he whispered back, “You are, but not like she protrayed you. Her words were fake, making it out that you are not how you are. She didn’t want you to be dangerous, so she removed the danger from you.” His fingers twitched to reach out for her, fearing the moment they touched that she would disappear in smoke or blood like his nightmares. “Freddie Lounds was afraid of the real you, so pretended that it wasn’t there.”

“And are you afraid of me? I’ve told you who I am, what I do, why I do it...” Jo’s eyes blazed back at him, dark as the dark night around them, as she raised a pale brow back at him. “You’ve seen me as I am. But are you afraid?”

“You are not a monster...”

His words got one of those bourbon rich laughs from her, the scent of vanilla, metal and chocolate wafting over him as she rolled onto her back laughing. The smell clogged his senses, reminding him of the first time he found her in his home, on the very same bed. And that had been real. His dreams never quite managed to include the essential scent of her, and he found himself moving towards it, drowning in the intoxicating safety and danger that rolled off of her. 

“But you are mean...” Will found the words coming to his head as he caught sight of the laptop screen, her words written in pixels staring back at him, over the top of her profile. “That article was mean. You did it to poke Jack and the bureau - that you could speak to them but they couldn’t reach you.”

“I must be pickin’ up some bad habits from some friends of mine then.” Jo’s voice softened, the humor still evident as she glanced to him out of the corner of her eye. “But really I was meanin’ it for you. To remind you of what we discussed.”

“Those friends of yours who aren’t real - aren’t human - and those that you claim aren’t people at all that you kill.” He raised himself up on one elbow, eyes flickering between her face half in darkness and half in light - so like her being - and the screen. ‘ “People are afraid of what they don’t know. Of what they can’t explain. I live without that fear cause I know what’s really out ther” ‘ is in bold on the screen, highlighted by his mouse as he had drifted off.

The woman rolled to her side again to face him, those eyes beaming up at him as if they were staring straight into his soul and trying to split him apart. “You still don’t believe me, do you?” He wishes she had never said the words, squeezing his eyes shut at the hurt tone and the ache it stabbed into his chest. She believed him about Hannibal, and Abigail, and everything, but he couldn’t believe her about her world. His mind was cruel to dream this up tonight of all nights.

As he felt the bed dip slightly, as if she was moving to stand up, he found himself reaching out. Grasping. Tugging and pinning. His palms pressing her shoulders back into the bed as he hovered above her. Blonde hair spread across the spare pillow, spilling about her as she blinked up at him - the fear and uncertainty in other’s eyes when they looked at him missing. He could feel the cold breeze on his back again, where his shirt stuck to his skin, like icy knives but that melted as Will leant down to press against her and her lips.

There was a gasp, whether his or hers he couldn’t say, and then hands pushing to move him back, confusion on her face to match his that she was solid and didn’t disappear. That the smell of chocolate and vanilla and danger was still flooding his senses. “Will, what-”

He cut her off again, tugging at her, probing at her lips with his tongue and a hand sliding into the golden tendrils around her. She wasn’t disappearing like the figment in the lab. She wasn’t taunting him with bloody hands like the nightmares he would wake screaming from. She wasn’t even pulling away from him like Alanna had. She was pliable and warm and leaning back up into him like a vine into sunlight. 

“Shh, let me keep dreaming. Don’t let me wake up...”

He couldn’t let her ask her questions, break the foggy dream he was finding himself in with the reality that this wasn’t allowed. That he wouldn’t trust her like she trusted him, that he couldn’t do this, that she couldn’t be this for him. That they couldn’t be anything outside his dreams. He couldn’t wake up from the dream and have nothing to grasp onto again. 

All he could do was sink into her lips, her arms, her scent and pray that he wouldn’t wake up this time.

---

The alarm clock was screeching when he rolled over, the sounds of grunting and yips from his family at the disruption making him roll over to turn it off. The clock said 6:25.

Will blinked his eyes open blearily, sleep crust caught and rubbing at his eyes as he slumped back against his pillow thinking of the dream from the night before.

Normally his dreams were not so grounded - there had been no oninous stag-man outside the window, no twisted lighting, no blood seeping from behind her hands - yet so far out of the realm of reality for him. He was always driven to the line of insanity by the plague of dreams he had, but that one had thrown him far over the cliff and into the oblivion of madness chasing after her. 

Like he would if she was really in his grasp again, he thought. Will rubbed a hand across his face, before he rolled onto his otherside towards where she had laid in his dreams. Towards the laptop screen still angled straight at him.

His hand drifted across to where she had been, before pulling back like an electric shock at the warmth still on the side of the bed. Frowning, Will shifted over before being assualted by the scent of danger and safety, chocolate, vanilla and metal rust, as he sat upright swallowing down the lump in his throat at the reminder.

Will leant down to the pillow, finding several long, blonde hairs upon the pillow case before his eyes drew up to the computer screen.

Highlighted by the mouse, disjointed across the article but all able to be seen in order, were the words - “don’t” “Trust” “me” “we” “Can’t” “do this”.