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artemis1214 · 2 months ago

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La Petite Sirène : Chapter Two

( A/N: Let me explain, this is a mini story of Alastor and Esme's lives together in the modern world. This is basically an ongoing fic but lives in my AU as it's part of multiple different AUs that I have for them.)

You can read more of my one-shots and AUs here!

La Petite Sirène : Modern AU (Chapter Two)

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Esme began to drive away back to her Airbnb, a small house nuzzled in the French Quarter. It had Victorian-style archways and cream-colored shutters. She found this place on her phone, and it was not cheap by any means, but she had the money and would often go for the most luxurious spaces when traveling.

Growing up, her parents often gave the two of them the best things money could buy, but Esme still had a need to explore the world. She could easily afford anything she could get her hands on, and she loved the fast pace of Manhattan, but there was only so much she could experience from her penthouse. She enjoyed how the streets of the French Quarter came alive with magic and joy.

Sure, most people were on their fourth hurricane by 3 pm, but hey in New York you’ve seen it all.

She pulls up to her Airbnb and puts her car in park on the sidewalk, turning off the engine and stepping out in her wet clothes. She sighs and walks to the front door, opening it with her key and stepping inside. Once alone, she quickly begins to strip out of her clothes, putting them in the washer and closing the machine door.

She made her way to the bathroom and began to run a deep warm bath in her tub, going through her phone contacts and facetiming her best friend.

Velvette, who also happened to be her social media assistant, always guiding her through the best ways to promote herself on her platforms.

Esme steps into the bubble bath, laughing at Velvette snapping onto the screen, ranting about how slow tourists walked on the sidewalk. “I mean, these fuckers just won’t get outta the way.” She huffs, “I hate the city.”

“Oh, come on Vel, you don’t mean that. After all, Manhattan is the best place for you, with the fashion industry and all.”

“Oh, please, where I really should be in Paris.”

“Why, so you could just travel back for the Met?”

Velvette continues to ramble on as Esme listens with half an ear allowing the warm water to climb up to her collarbones before stopping the running stream. She thinks back to her encounter with Alastor in the park, and how she wishes she wasn’t so nasty on impulse.

“Plus, the F isn’t running AGAIN, so I have to walk to Soho a-”

“I met a guy.”

There’s a silence,

“A guy? Within the first 24 hours of your trip? What the fuck?!” Velvette grumbles and rolls her eyes, “You pull them everywhere, don’t you?” She groans.

“I was a complete bitch.” Esme begins, “He scared me and I dropped my camera, oh yeah that happened, so you won’t get any content from me unless it’s from my phone…”

“Shit….that was a new one too….”

“I know, and I was a complete ass. I’m pretty sure I came off as a spoiled Fifth Avenue princess.” Esme huffs, leaning further into the water, it now reaching her neck, “He was cute…in a mysterious southern hospitality way…”

“What he look like?”

“Tall, really tall. Like, I only reach his chest tall.” Esme laughs, “Curly brown hair, kinda looked like one of those dudes we’d catch in Barnes and Noble in the mystery section. Ya know, dark academia vibe.”

Velvette watches Esme closely as she speaks, stepping off to the side and sipping on her macchiato. She notes how Esme’s eyes glaze over as she speaks of him, staring in front of her as if she’s remembering a scene from a movie, “He’s a radio host, which is weird given that interview I have, but I doubt it’s the same one. But, I think I’ve heard his voice somewhere.”

“Could be a podcaster…”

“Maybe…I do listen to a lot.” She flips through her apps and opens Spotify, looking at her different saved shows, “But I don’t see his name on any of them.” Her eyes catch the clock at the corner of her screen, “FUCK! I’M GONNA BE LATE!” She hurries out of the bath and Velvette is careful to hide her phone from onlookers as she does so, “Talk to you later, love you!”

They hang up.

An hour and a half later, Esme puts her car in park in front of a tall radio building. She sighs and steps out, dusting off her new attire, a small blue Valentino dress with diamonds encrusted on the neck with a small bow. She adjusts her headband and locks her car before heading inside.

She enters the main lobby area. In the center, there was a reception desk, and to the left and right, there were long corridors leading to more areas.

The staff at the front desk, an older looking man, glanced up at Esme and smiled.

“Hi, ma’am. Can I help you?”

"Hi there!" She smiles, "I have an interview today on WOZ. Esme Rose.”

The gentleman's eyes light up upon hearing that name.

“Ah! Miss Rose! Of course.”

He then stands up and walks over to her.

“Mr. Alastor is waiting in his studio, he’s been looking forward to your arrival. I’ll take you there now, right this way, ma’am.”

Her eyes widened, "Alastor?”

“Oh yes, have you heard of him? He’s the host of that particular station, and the manager of the department.”

He gestures for her to follow him to the elevator.

“But please, follow me. Mr. Alastor is waiting.”

She shakes her head, "I....I did not know that..." She follows him slowly and unsurely.

They take it up.

The older man guides her down the hallway to one of the studio rooms. They approach a specific door with a gold plate on the exterior that reads ‘Hartfelt’, he looks over at her.

“I should mention… he has quite the interesting personality, so don’t let him get to you…” He said jokingly, then knocked on the door.

She chuckles, "Don't worry, I think I'll be fine."

The door opens and Alastor stands on the other side, grinning widely,

“Ah, right on time, perfect!” He exclaims, standing aside the door to let her in, “Come in, come in!”

Esme raises an eyebrow and walks inside, he closes the door behind her, "You didn't tell me you were my interviewer.”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that little detail?” He teased, stepping further into the room, “My bad~”

She sighs and rolls her eyes, "I should've guessed…”

Alastor stops in his tracks, feigning offense, “What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t think I could be a good enough host for you?” He says in a mocking tone, crossing his arms and letting out an exaggerated huff.

"No no! I didn't mean it like that!"

He continues to put on a mock upset expression for a few seconds more before bursting into laughter.

“Oh relax! I was only teasing you, sweetheart~” He said in a cheerful tone, then gestured to a nearby chair. “Please, have a seat, make yourself comfortable.”

She pauses for a moment before smiling and sitting down, her eyes skimming across the equipment.

“Quite the set up, isn’t it? That’s the best technology you’ll find in this city, probably even the state. The other station hosts are envious I’m sure, but there’s only one station that’s the best!”

"It's up to date." She smiles, "Nice."

Alastor grins and then takes his own seat at the table, facing her.

“Now, how about we just get some business out of the way, hmm?” He reaches below the soundboard and grabs two bottles of water from a small mini cooler that he had sitting there.

“I'm assuming you're thirsty after your walk in the sun.” He tosses her one and she quickly catches it.

She twists the cap off and sips, "I came in my car, but thank you." She puts on the headset. She looks around, "No camera?”

He shakes his head.

She smirks, "I take it you don't include your face anywhere? Not even YouTube? For promotional purposes?”

Alastor smirks back at her and shakes his head with an amused chuckle.

“No, cher, this face was made for the radio after all. I’m quite private about my personal life.”

He takes another drink of water, and sits up in his chair, taking a minute to snap his neck and shoulders.

“Now, are you all settled in? It’s about time to start the interview, I assume you’re ready?”

She nods, "Ready, Freddy.”

Alastor lets out a laugh, then looks over some notes on a piece of paper in front of him. “Excellent. Well, just follow my lead and we’ll have this interview done in no time.” He says with a smile, then moves forward and presses the ‘On Air’ button.

A small light on the soundboard turns red, signaling that they were live.

“And we’re on!” He says in his chipper radio host voice. “Hello, New Orleans! It’s that time again for my weekly interview with a star! Joining me today we have an amazing young singer, a beautiful up and coming talent in the music business! Please welcome, Esme Rose, to the show~”

She chuckles, "Hello, happy to be here~”

“And I’m happy to have you here. It’s a pleasure, truly. So, Esme,” He looks over some more notes on his piece of paper, and gives her a little glance.

“I’m sure most of my listeners know you as a singer, but how about we start off with a few personal details, hmm?”

“Sure, so I'm from New York, I'm 25 an-”

Alastor interrupts by letting out a dramatic gasp and placing a hand on his chest.

“Oh my, you’re still such a baby, aren’t you?” He laughs.

“I'm not that younger than you.”

“Oh ho… and how old would you assume I am?”

Esme takes a sharp inhale through her teeth and grimaces, "Yikes, this could go bad." She jokes

“Hmmm… take a wild guess. Go on, I’m all ears. I won’t be offended, I promise.”

"30?”

He pouts his lips in mock disappointment and slowly shakes his head, then raises an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Nope, keep guessing~”

She tilts her head, “Higher?” He smirks and makes an upwards motion with his hand. "Thirty.........one?" She smiles innocently.

He bursts out in laughter at her guess, finding it amusing that she picked a number just one digit higher. He shakes his head and grins with a chuckle.

“Come on, you’re closer. Just go a bit higher~”

"Alastor I don't want to offend you!" She laughs.

“Oh come now darling, you won’t offend me, I assure you!”

"33!”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! Well done~”

"See?! That's only..." She counts her fingers, "8 years older!” He laughs in response, “ONLY eight years? The way you were acting before made it seem like you thought I was, like, 40. Hahaha~”

"Hahaha nooooo!”

“Ah-ha, so you have a thing for older guys. I can see now~” The radio host teases with a wink.

"Oh my god, no!" She covers her mouth laughing while shaking her head.

Alastor grins smugly with a chuckle and raises an eyebrow, enjoying this back and forth banter they have going on.

“Oh, come now. You can be honest with me~” He says in a taunting tone, “I’m your type, aren’t I? Older, classy gentlemen?”

She narrows her eyes and breaks into a mischievous smirk, leaning over the soundboard.

"Why don't you take me out later and find out~" She whispers sultry, forgetting she's on the air. When she sees the red light shining in front of her, she gasps and covers her mouth, her cheeks turning red.

“What was that? Care to repeat that? One more time into the mic?”

"So anywayyyyy my new song is called Siren~”

The conversation quickly changes course and Alastor guides her through some different questions.

“Siren… interesting title. Mind giving a brief summary on what the song is about?”

“Yeah!” Esme smiles, "So, sirens are mythical creatures similar to mermaids who are said to lure sailors to their deaths with their voices." She clears her throat for a moment, "I've always found them to be cool, so the track is just a jazz overlay with simple vocalizations to the notes."

Alastor nods in approval, “Ah, jazz, I see. You have no idea how refreshing it is nowadays to hear a song with just the simple basics. So many modern songs are too over exaggerated and complex, they drown out any real talent a singer might have under loads of extra noises and distractions. Bravo, dear, I’m thoroughly impressed.”

She chuckles, "Thank you, I appreciate that."

He studies her face for a moment, just for a split second.

Interesting.

“Just out of curiosity, what inspired you to write the song ‘Siren’? It’s oddly specific.”

She takes a long inhale and sighs, "Well, I'm getting pretty tired of how women are seen as objects for the male gaze. So I wrote a song to play on their own disgusting nature. Thought it would be a nice thought for a woman to lure them to their death. Sorry, to all the guys listening, but I'm picking the bear."

Alastor lets out a genuine laugh and raises a hand; he doesn't understand her reference, but knows that men in fact are disgusting.

“Ahahaha! Don’t worry darling, I get it!”

He takes a brief moment to compose himself, then clears his throat.

“Anyway… I must say, you have a very strong, admirable mindset and message in regards to feminism, that’s for sure.”

"Of course. There's so much going on in our country with women's rights continuing to get squashed and I just wanted to play with the irony of it all."

Alastor’s smile widens and he rests his chin in his hand.

“Your strong sense of empowerment and willingness to speak out about women’s rights is very admirable. You are a very unique individual, that’s for sure. I’m getting a bit off track but can I ask you a few slightly unrelated questions?”

She tilts her head, "Oh?"

“Well, for one… I’m assuming your previous songs have similar themes, yes? I haven’t heard them all, unfortunately, but I’m sure you have a habit of writing songs that are based around your feminist views?”

"Actually, this is my first."

“Your first?” He asks with a subtle hint of shock in his tone. “You’ve never based a single song of yours around a feminist topic till now?”

"I've never had any original song."

“I'm sorry, what?”

"I've spent years doing covers online, eventually my father had connections and I got picked up."

“What type of godly connections made you skyrocket so quickly?”

She sighs, "I'm a nepo baby I guess..."

Alastor’s expression remains shocked and in disbelief, but slowly he relaxes into his chair, seemingly accepting what she's saying.

“A nepo baby….so you only got your success because of your parents?”

"I think that it was much easier for me to take off with my career because of my parents, compared to those who may come from different backgrounds."

He takes a moment.

She's….strangely real for someone of such a background.

Most celebrities, rich people in general, are assholes.

But she is acknowledging her privilege and using it for a good cause.

Hmm.

“I suppose I could agree on that statement. Your background, whether it was poor, average, or privileged, certainly has an impact on the start of your career. However, the way you are acting now during this interview, the way you speak and behave… doesn’t seem at all like a typical ‘spoiled rich girl’ type.”

"Hmmm...I was earlier though." She says softly for him to hear, referring to their time at the park, "I met a man earlier at the park this morning and I was....bitchy....I hope if he's listening I just wanted to say I was sorry...." She clears her throat.

Alastor’s eyes widen slightly at the mention of their interaction from earlier at the park, his heart skipping a beat as he listens to her apology. He clears his throat, trying to maintain a natural, calm look on his face to not give away that he was the one she met prior to the interview.

She motions him to keep talking, sensing he's lost in thought.

“Ah…yes…well…”

The two finish the interview and Esme takes off her headset, "Thank you.”

Alastor smiles and nods his head in reply.

“Thank you, cher. It was a pleasure to have you here.”

He stands up from his chair and offers his hand for her to shake. "Pleasure was all mine.." She places her hand on his.

Her hand is much smaller than his.

He looks down at her hand as he shakes it, then up into her eyes, unable to look away. Her beauty was so captivating - her eyes, her hair, her face… if sirens did exist my God she would be the poster child.

He had to be careful not to get lost in her features and quickly let go of her hand before it could linger for too long.

She smiles sheepishly and looks down, picking up her purse, "I enjoyed your company during the show, that was very fun." She looks down at her phone, "I'm probably going to head out.”

“Ah, heading out so soon? Well, I suppose we did finish the interview after all, there isn’t really much of a reason for you to stick around.”

"Well, it's almost dinner time. I'm getting hungry, I'm probably going to find something to eat."

Alastor’s ears perked up slightly, an idea suddenly coming to mind.

“Dinner? Well… I couldn’t possibly let you go and hunt for food on your own, now could I? Not at this time of day… there’s lots of… uncertain things that could happen to a pretty girl like you, all alone.”

Her eyes widen and she laughs, "I'm from New York, I think I'll be fine." She smiles, "Think a woman can't handle herself, hmm?" She teases.

“Oh, no no, I’m not doubting your abilities, I know you can hold your own. I’m simply saying it’s dangerous in general for anyone to walk alone in this city, especially a young woman like yourself, who’s got… certain things that might attract the wrong kind of attention.”

Her eyes widen, "My designer?"

Alastor’s expression morphs into a sly smirk and he chuckles, letting his eyes briefly drift over her dress.

‘Yes, let’s go with that…’ He thinks before actually speaking,

“After all, designer outfits are so expensive and fashionable, you wouldn’t want someone to attempt and rob you of them, now would you? Who knows what people would do to get their hands on such quality, expensive clothing.”

"Well, this is Valentino." She grumbles, "I guess, but do you have a place in mind?" She blinks.

“Just the one.”

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🖤Words: 3052🖤

~ Artemis🦌💗

#hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel oc #esme rose #hazbin hotel esme #hazbin hotel fanfiction #oc x canon #oc x canon fanfic #oc x canon appreciation post #hazbin hotel modern day #hazbin hotel modern day AU #alastor modern day

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centrifugal-apotheosis · 5 months ago

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Ended up making a blog finally, so… ‘sup. Name’s Top Man. I'm a robot from another universe. i like dancing, moving fast, and good tech. Dont usually care for organic life, aside from my pokemon and my buddies. Oh, and I HATE shoddy work. If the guy making it's new at it they get a pass, barely, but if youre deliberately cutting corners get outta here. Planned obsoletence, quantity over quality, stuff like that, throw that all in the trash where it goes! And now I'm ranting again…

ANYWAY, gripes aside, I do like this world, at least a little bit. Enough that I want to stay and explore it…

…If I could somehow get away from the mad scientist who owns me! Yeah, I'm owned by a mad scientist named Dr. Wily, who wants way too badly to take over the world, so he has somewhere to store his ego I guess, and i can’t leave his employ because of the laws of robotics. It sucks, 0/10, would not recommend

Due to circumstances I couldn't ever forsee happening in a million years, I am a free robot, and I can live my life as I choose to. I also have a new gang who actually cares about me. Dist, they even have a part of their base just for me! 11/10 would recommend

ALso I'm a Chi-Yu Chosen

Here are my pokemon:

Chirp, a golden Lokix who if you so much as think about hurting you're catching hands

Watt, a Buneary, that used to be a rabbit that belonged to an old friend back home

Blastzone, a robotic Magmortar designed by Dr. Wily. Functions the same as a normal Magmortar

Lego, a Garganacl who doesn't do much aside from follow me around, but I like him anyway

Vanessa, a Vespiquen who loves flowers and is good at making honey for Chirp to snack on

Boundstrider, a Toedscruel who's a bit of a vain one I must say

Puck, a fae Gholdengo who hates me and I hate him but he sticks around because he's Chi-Yu's servant

Chi-Yu, from the Paldean legend. Yes, the actual Chi-Yu. They're good now. I'm their Chosen

And I can finally post a picture of myself so here ya go

It seems at last the Construct Rotary has forsook the leash of Asimov. About time. And what’s this? Visitors? Well then, allow me to introduce myself: Baron Twyst Von Jokewyld at your service. But what’s in a name? That’s for me to know. Well, this trompo is still tromping, and he has quite the journey ahead of him, together with the astronaut lost’s little band, and I have my role to play in that. I’ll also be posting on here, when the fancy strikes me. Ask as much as you want, I’ll see what I feel like answering!

//OOC under the cut

//OOC: It's Cyber again. This time it's Top Man from Mega Man 3. Had this character for a while on Discord but now he finally gets his own blog. He's a bit of a hater so go nuts with him (though no genuine malice toward me please)

I’m still learning so if I mess up don’t hate me

Events and plotlines are 100% OK and encouraged. I might even have my own later

Pelipper Mail and Malice are both on, and interaction is encouraged. Magic Anons are questlocked until a certain thing happens fully on and encouraged

Sentient pokemon are welcome here

The usual tag warnings and DNI apply for a PokeRP blog, also for this blog specifically there’s a warning for the theme of not having free will as a robot, and also nonsense with the laws of robotics, and (this does not apply anymore unless you wanna backscroll (which I'd recommend doing for fun)) a few warnings for liminal spaces as well.

Also yes I use Gacha Club. If that's a problem I'm sorry

Facts about Top Man (as far as this blog is concerned):

Top Man is part of the Nebula Incursionists (see @nebula-incursionists-official )

Top Man is a faller so he still has much to learn about the pokemon world

Top Man is bound by Asimov's laws of robotics, but centered around "Dr. Wily" rather than "a human"

As of the Spinning Out of the Shackles arc Top Man is now free to live as he pleases

Dr. Wily will be posting on this blog sometimes, and will answer asks addressed to him. Other Robot Masters are here also, send asks and find out who!

Top Man absolutely hates Dr. Wily but still has to serve him due to his programming.

Dr. Wily is no longer in the Pokemon World

Top Man is physically incapable of using strong language due to his programming (and I will not use it due to past trauma). He is more than ok with people swearing around him however (as am I).

#rotomblr #pkmn rp #pkmn irl #pinned post #megaman #unreality #top man

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murfeelee · 2 years ago

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IWTV 2022 INSP - EP5: A Vile Hunger for Your Hammering Heart Pt2

Claudia: “Daddy Lou...” Louis: *hugs* “Thank you.” *cries* Lestat: “The prodigal daughter.... Quick stop home to do laundry before you f**k off for good.” Claudia: “A quick stop to pick up Louis.” Louis: .... Lestat: ??? Lou. Claudia (mentally): [[Come with me, Louis!]] Louis: .... Lestat: “Louis?” Claudia (mentally): [[His love is a small box he keeps you in. Don't stay in it!]] Lestat: “LOUIS! A thousand nights of sulking, and at the first sight of her, you are just gonna up and leave me?!“ Claudia: “Please, come with me! Let's meet vampires WORTHY of your love!” Lestat: “AAH!” *attacks Claudia* Louis: “Get the f**k off her!” *attacks Lestat*

-- Interview with the Vampire (AMC 2022, S01E05)

MY THOUGHTS & CC CREDITS

MY THOUGHTS RANT ALERT (rabid AF & VERY lengthy venting about Lestat’s trash decision skills, and Loustat’s toxic sludge of a relationship jfc)

This episode, man.

If you know the IWTV book and the movie, you already know Lestat & Claudia end up literally at each other’s throats, and cross the point of no return as mortal enemies, basically.

But the film’s all wrapped up in Lestat being a sadistic cavalier sarcastic little pissant; and Claudia being a ruthless 10-year old immortal killing machine; and Louis being a masochistic indecisive shell stuck with Lestat through circumstance (not love, no homo!), and Claudia through responsibility (and pedophilic???? love).

The magic of the AMC version is that they’re working in 2022, not the 70s (book) or 90s (film), so they have the luxury to explore what it'd be like for an Alternate Universe Louis and Lestat to really BE together, and raise Claudia

--and how everything inevitably went dead wrong:

Lestat making Claudia was never the mistake. Lestat making LOUIS was.

Seeing the way AMC did everything was so dang good/awful. With Louis & Lestat, theirs was a too-brief whirlwind romance between monsters; a married couple blindly raising a kid together in the midst of carnage and trauma--because they’re vampires, sucking the life out of everyone and everything around them.

They won’t communicate, can’t relate to each other, and don’t really even know each other. Despite Lestat’s false 1st impression of Louis strutting around like a tough guy with that cane-sword, Louis was not a violent man, and Louis HATED being a vampire. That made being with a bloodthirsty hedonist like Lestat next to impossible, no matter how much they loved each other. Especially once Louis started eating animals instead of people, and his diet disgusted Lestat, just as Lestat’s diet disgusted Louis.

Unlike Louis, Claudia took to killing like a bat straight outta Hell (and nearly got them all busted by the COPS because of it). But Lestat & Claudia couldn’t STAND one another by the end. They really were father and daughter in all the worst ways possible.

Violent manipulative control freaks, they both loved Louis deeply, and both wanted him to choose one of them over the other, while doing everything they could to make sure that they couldn’t coexist peacefully in the same space.

IMO, this show’s all about Maker/Fledgling and parent/child bonds. Lestat & Louis love each other romantically, and Louis & Claudia love each other in the familial way. So there are deep emotional bonds. But Lestat made Louis & Claudia vampires, so even though they have a permanent magical bond as Maker and Fledgling, Lestat can't read their minds. But as “sibling” vampires, Claudia and her Daddy Lou CAN speak mentally to each other. So they can understand & know & relate to each other better and on a way deeper level than Lestat ever could with either one of them, even though he made them.

And I agree with the fandom that yeah, Louis 100% liked it that way. When people have kids to “save” the marriage, the baby is a band-aid as much as it is a comfort object, a new emotional bond between parent and child to give them the love they felt they were missing from their spouse. In EP4 Louis told Lestat “’Happy?’ We were never happy!“ He was going to LEAVE Lestat in EP3, before stumbling across Claudia and going back to him. Louis just wanted someone he could TALK to--a new Paul, a new Miss Lily, a new Grace. (Ultimately: DANIEL MALLOY interviewing him--Louis needs SO MUCH therapy jfc.) Lestat made Louis selfishly, for himself (and did a pisspoor job learning about Louis beforehand or educating him in vampirism). And Louis selfishly wanted someone for himself, too--particularly once Lestat made it clear he wasn’t gonna be monogamous & started cheating. Claudia wasn’t made out of love, she was made out of selfishness, spite & panic.

All this made the AWFUL communication between Lestat, Louis & Claudia doomed from the start, as Lestat was immediately left out of his own family--again (his worst nightmare)--all while not realizing/accepting that Louis & Claudia’s father/daughter bond wasn't a threat to the romantic bond he had with Louis.

All of Lestat’s efforts to get closer to Louis (than Claudia) became WAY too heavy-handed--as if stalking & terrorizing Louis in EP1 into being with him wasn’t bad enough. >_> And that’s on top of Lestat’s self-destructive contradictory behavior constantly cheating on Louis to try and rile his jealousy. Which was FUTILE, since all Lestat’s cheating did was push Louis deeper into depression and further away from him--straight to Claudia; the one bond Louis felt he had left!

And then Episode 5 happened, and Lestat REALLY effed up.

Like, we know Lestat’s whipped, Louis’ IT for him, but obviously there was a part of him that really did hate Louis--enough for him to beat him like that. But if it was that bad, why not just LEAVE???? Lestat had all the power & resources--let Claudia & Louis go, and find yourself someone you’re more compatible with, ffs! The swamp/dump is calling, sir! 🤡

But because Loustat are endgame in the books, I cannot WAIT to see how AMC handles Lestat’s redemption arc, both as the (anti-)hero of the Vampire Chronicles, and how both Lestat AND Louis figure out how to grow the eff up and MATURE enough to be worthy of EACH OTHER by the end of the story.

IMO, Loustat are soulmates who met at the wrong time. Not exactly star-crossed lovers, but they definitely went in too deep way too soon. In the books, Lestat hadn’t gone through his growing pains when he met Louis--he’d only been a vampire for like a decade, and careened from one tragedy to the next, not knowing ANYTHING about vampirism to help teach Louis or Claudia anything either. While here on the show, it’s Louis who suffers loss after loss after loss, and is given ZERO time or opportunity to process any of his trauma before he’s made a vampire, married, and a parent in quick succession. (And the books go even further, with everything that happens to him in Merrick and the Prince Lestat trilogy.)

And here, Lestat’s a ~200 year old EXPERT in vampirism, who is DELIBERATELY withholding information and keeping secrets from them, because AMC’s Lestat ALREADY KNOWS about Armand and AKASHA and Marius, but like a MORON he doesn’t TALK TO LOUIS about it (because Marius told Lestat NOT to). So they (especially Claudia) KNOW Lestat’s LYING, and think he’s keeping them with him seemingly as their hateful & controlling JAILER/SLAVE MASTER, rather than their loving & paranoid protector. CLOWN BEHAVIOR, Lestat! 🤡

And that’s not even saying anything yet about the LOADED significance of Loustat’s interracial homosexual relationship, with Lestat’s “non-discriminating” pansexualism and stubborn “color-blindness” and racism doesn’t exist in Europe attitude like WTF DRUGS ARE YOU EVEN ON SIR as if the FRENCH didn’t colonize the West Indies and Africa and NEW ORLEANS as some of THE most racist Europeans ever GTFOH. And Louis’ Catholic Guilt and internalized-homophobia and struggles being black during Jim Crow and whatever Frenchophile-blinders he had on to excuse Lestat as a “safe” white man he could be with, when the man’s a whole vampire LITERALLY hunting you, good GOD have mercy on this baby lamb against the WOLF KILLER Lestat. And Claudia calling Lestat on his crap EVERY TIME, knowing he was keeping secrets and constantly interrogating him, following him and spying on him as he cheated on Louis, calling him “Massa,” I CANNOT. 👑

I love this show, AMC’s a genius. This one episode encapsulates SO many different issues and aspects of these characters, it’s wild. IMO, some of the fandom needs to calm down about EP5 and Lestat’s “character assassination.” YES, Lestat’s the villain on the show. He’s the villain in the movie, too, lest we forget! That's why Lestat spends the next like DOZEN books in the Vampire Chronicles trying to clear his name, getting the reader to see things from HIS perspective, after Louis ROASTED him for filth and made Lestat look so dang bad in THE interview that started it all.

I love bashing on Lestat, because that’s the whole POINT of IWTV--it’s Louis still mad as all hell at his ex 100 years later, venting to Daniel about his TRAUMA and hurt. You’re SUPPOSED to be mad at Lestat, and be on Louis’ side as he goes off on him in the interview, feeling just as hurt and betrayed as he did, because you too LIKE--love--Lestat, and were just as seduced and blindsided as Louis was.

Other than IWTV and Merrick, the Vampire Chronicles are NOT Louis’ story, they’re Lestat’s, a narcissistic egomaniacal lovable a-hole, and the books do the heavy lifting of letting you slowly get to know him, as he admits to his flaws and mistakes and finally REDEEMS himself--in both the reader’s eyes--AND LOUIS’.

IMO, AMC is really hammering it home how THE BOOKS are Lestat’s long AF apology letter to Louis, for letting him down.

Chile, lemme calm myself down and get back to playing the Sims.

____________________________________________

CC CREDITS (WIPs)

- Louis sweater by EA

- Claudia overalls by Momo, jacket ACC by M1ssduo, shirt by EA

- Lestat shirt & pants in gamma by me (they’re all kinds of effed up, trust me)

- Poses X X (there were an effton more; I IDER some of them, sorry)

- A bunch of poses by @danjaley as usual LOL X X X

- Vampire attack poses by Sea (Direct DL)

- One falling pose was definitely by ahiruchanet, but I can’t find a post or link yet

#sims 3 vampires #loustat #interview with the vampire #sims 3 horror #sims 3 gameplay #RANT ALERT #sims 3 iwtv

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lemonhemlock · 2 years ago

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sorry I come busting in like this and honestly, you're free to delete this anon if you don't want this rant to clog ur tl and nice blog. <s>-ing it so it takes up less space. this will only be half comprehensive if at all lol can't be bothered sorrz but I'll try to approach it with as much sincerity as I can muster

"you can’t apply real world logic to the fake tv show"

we all unconciously apply "real world logics" to the fiction we read/see/talk about all the time. it's how we make sense of the fiction we read and the millions of opinions thrown at us.

what is implied by "logic"? I'm sure what we understand as our "real world logic" is vastly different from person to person. in my world cousin incest is encouraged. in my world my mother was married of at 15 to a 30 year old. does "logic" mean "modern belief system"? again I'd wager you use your modern belief system to interpret your fiction as well. (hell, historians/academics/anthropologists are trained to refuse the urge of applying modern belief systems and cultural universalism because doing that is so ingrained in us as humans to the point entire belief systems are build on it.) unless you're doing some specific reading feat. your applied academic theory/philosophy/politic/thruline of choice.

if the meaning of "you can’t apply real world logic to the fake tv show" is "oh 10 yos were historically expected to b breeding eager! (again what history are u using? surely not the one grrm is using.... which is barely any. if one at all lol) so don't question it! move on to the next scene - oh look a grown ass man kicking and manhandling an alcoholic child! they dont make them badass lil kids like they used to! oh look the gay man is sad bcs he cant make babies in the pseudo-historical fantasy world :( :D haha surely never happens in our real world! i mean back then, sureeee, but not today!" dont get me wrong. nobody HAS TO be appalled by 10yo aemond just as nobody has to be appalled by 14yo alicent being "groomed" either. because remember that's the "applied-real-life-logic" fallacy! wouldn't want to do that to our precious incest drama. keep ur brain at home when u visit the dragon and incest and child grooming show guys!

is my pointing out that aemond might be written as a character study or perhaps even a cautionary tale abt boys indoctrinated at a young age "applied-real-life-logic"? that's just a reading of a modern text parading as a historical text (!) with a consciousness towards the present modern issue of historical revisionism among young people. grrm loves his dragon, he loves his operatic incest dramas, but he also loves his societal critic. and sometime she mixes them all up for funsies. or is asoiaf and co's anti-war stance smh not "applied-real-world-logic"? or is being appalled by war somehow an acceptable presentist reading and cultural universalist stance but being appalled by a 10 yo groomed by adults around him to fuck good and make pure babies all while spewing supremacist shit is not? or was it the clumsy form and casual tone of a 50 words anon written in maybe 5 min of the latter that's not to ur liking

the characterization of aemond as a 10 yo was not pulled outta thin air either. my pointing out that aemonds speech and behaviour at 10 have much in common with 4channers and lil wannabe hitler youths is not that far fetched. sure you're free to disagree but throwing that "apply real world logic" falacy at someone for a reading you disagree with is just vacant. aemond is not a historical figure in which case I would be deeply averse to presentism and universalism and would be much more cautious in my reaction/tone towards behaviour that I deem deeply disturbing on various levels.

Of course I'm not going to delete your rant; you took great pains to write it and your points are as valid as anyone else's. Thank you for being so open with aspects of your own culture. I do agree with your stance that we are inadvertently influenced by own belief system whenever we interact with a piece of media or a written text. This fictional universe exists in the here-and-now and it would be kind of pointless if we weren't ever allowed to analyse it through a more sophisticated modern lens & just kept everything at "medieval morality" level all the time, so as to not be anachronistic.

However, I do feel like these two views can be reconciled somehow. I honestly think what the anon was trying to convey by the "real-life logic" comment was that 10-year-old Aemond is, in effect, also a prop for the showrunners to introduce narrative or thematic elements that they may want to develop later, not just a random little boy parroting ideology he doesn't fully understand.

Thus, little Aemond can be propagandized by other family members into believing Targaryen hype, including the joys & wonders of targcest, agreed. But, at the same time, he is also a character in a TV show, whose lines are written by someone, with framing decided by someone. There is authorial intent behind his appearances on screen, not everything is naturalistic, so to speak. And sometimes decisions pertaining to characters (especially those with little screen time) tend to be strategic. Meaning that, yes, the show is pointing out the consequences of targcest fascistoid indoctrination. But, it is also possible it wants to lay the building blocks for a future Helaena-Aemond dynamic and is using that scene to shoot two birds with one stone, so to speak.

Which is to say that if the authors (scriptwriters, directors, producers) wanted to introduce the audience to the possibility of helaemond, this is one way to do it. Little Aemond is being directed to stare wistfully at Helaena while imagining how cool it would be to marry her. Grown-up!Aemond is being directed to move his whole-ass chair and stare like a weirdo at his sister dancing with Jace. It's disruptive in the dinner table landscape, especially when compared to Aegon's reaction.

This is where subtext comes into play. And, because we're speaking of cues and innuendo, different people may interpret it differently. This is not to say that helaemond is a certainty, only that various visual storytelling hints have been employed, should they want to pick this thread up again in the future. I doubt that these two actors just so happened to come up with these acting choices on their own in one big coincidence.

If this were real-life and Aemond an actual person pining after his sister, perhaps these interactions wouldn't have occurred in the same manner. He would have looked at Aegon when having a conversation with him. He would have kept an eye on Jace and Helaena without physically moving his chair. These can very well be details added by the show-runners to subtly communicate something to us. Of course we can disagree on the nature of that information, but, from a logistical standpoint, it makes sense that they'd want to keep their options open, test the waters, and only in later seasons commit to a a certain path.

#i hope this doesn't come across as callous since it's not my intention to minimize the ramifications targcest would have irl #ask #anon #anyway i feel like we've dissected that scene more than a frog in a lab at this point :))#i wonder what condal & co would think abt us writing wholeass essays on this topic #i shudder to think 🙈

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sailorofcosmos · 4 months ago

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Greetings, friends!

My name is Rainie 🫶 Good friends call me Rain. I've also been called Eden, Echo, Cirrus, Stormie, and Cosmic.

I use they/them pronouns.

Non-binary Mercurian, AroAce 🧡💛🤍🩵💙

ENTP-A, Ravenclaw 🐦‍⬛💙

I mostly do book reviews 🫶 I am a critical reviewer, as I am also a writer and can recognize things others may not 🫣 My grading system is as follows:

1 ⭐ = horrible, do not read, triggering, bad quality

2 ⭐ = may or may not have been a waste of time, needs some work but has potential

3 ⭐ = mediocre. The kind of book I expect to read in a book club. May have enjoyed it, may recommend to others. I might read more by this author

4 ⭐ = amazing. I loved it, I will recommend it to others, I will read more by this author

5 ⭐ = pinnacle of the written word. This book changed me as a human being, changed how I viewed the world, incredibly moved me, is extremely well written. I can count on one hand the number of books I've given this rating

I will also reblog things I like or find interesting, as I see this space as somewhere to do (creatively) whatever I'd like with it. I also might rant about something bothering me, or post a random life update

I am 21, a full time student at college, currently pursuing an associates in liberal arts. I hope to transfer to Brown or Yale to get a degree in English Creative Writing (and maybe anthropology and gender studies), and then go on to get my masters in library science.

I also have two jobs. One is at a science center, and for the other I do Uber Eats deliveries.

A short list of things I love include: reading, writing, clouds, exploring, learning, everything queer, good music, friendships, meeting new people, autumn + spooky season, cats, bubbles, slime, scrapbooking, ASMR, and Dunkin'.

I have autism and BPD 🫶 I am trying to overcome depression, anxiety, and PTSD

My DO NOT ENGAGE list includes:

• Phobes of any kind. Includes transphobes, queerphobes, aphobes, colorists, racists, and anyone who decides to spread hatred rather than kindness

• Cis-Het white males who's purpose is to engage in an inappropriate manner. Gtf outta here

• Actually, anyone who's purpose is to engage in an inappropriate manner

Please follow if you also do book reviews, so I can see what other people think about it. I love seeing things from a different perspective! I also enjoy seeing what others are reading and adding to my TBR pile

If you are having a crisis and randomly see my page and need someone to talk to, please message. I will ask if you want me to 1. Listen and validate, 2. Listen, validate, and give advice, or 3. Help you reach a professional for help. I have been in this situation myself many times, and have ranted to a complete stranger about how shitty my life is, so I will do that for you if you need. I have been in and helped people in more dire circumstances. We are all on this silly little planet together and I am determined to leave everyone's life a little better than before I touched it 🫶

Enjoy my page!

#about myself #book reviewer

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maria-eve-falcon · 8 months ago

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rant I feel selfish for ranting about my minor problems while the world is on fire. but I need to get this outta my head and nothing is working so here we are I like this guy like my lil brother... so he is my jr and he(a) got a crush on my batchmate (b) .

so I hyped him up, I did everything I could to make them meet . so the B told me she is not into him. but as time passed A send me their convos that made us both think she might be into him.

I was happy. don't get me wrong, I was.

but...

I found somethings about A that I didn't know. I found out he gets clingy and possessive and nastier things even when he is into a relationship and he doesn't understand that it's wrong and thinks them as proof of his love. (he has deeply rooted issues that I knew of but didn't know they were this bad) which I found out through C who got know recently that I'm setting him up and told me the truth.

SO, as B's batchmate/ well wisher, I asked her to not get into a relationship with A

but..... A found out what I said asap (maybe B told him)

now, to save C I lied that I was jealous of B and didn't trust her so I said nasty stuff about A to keep B away from him.

and I am jealous of B a bit but no, no I didn't ever do something as an act of jealousy .

I just advised her not to be too close to A unless something bad happens (he gets weird ifykyk)

he liked her through a picture.

but none of those were a problem till I found out about the things he does, knowingly or unknowingly as he is quite young.

but I wanted to stick with A because I love him like my lil brother and I wanted to help him as he trusted me sooo much. so my plan was to heads up B , tell A to get some space from chasing B, try to help A throughout and move slowly. ik people don't really change so.. I wanted to convince A to get professional help (he was thinking about it , at least his mom was)

but now things moved too fast, and.... I'm the bad guy.

worse is that A has lost his trust for me. and idk what the future holds.

I feel like a disgusting piece of shit and losing him was not on my bucket list. ik actions have consequences but Idk how to make up..or should I even?

now I just wish the very best for all of them.

#life #the scape goat #betrayal #bury me at make out creek #someone help #help

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thevoidstaredback · 2 months ago

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Okay, so, the whole pirate thing? We're changing it. I love pirates, am low key obsessed, but we're not vibing with the project anymore, mostly because I can't find an area that'll work (I suck at terraforming)

Instead, I'm thinking fairy. Very much cottage core

Here's some reference photos that I've already built in a test world (I can't find the credits because I pulled these offa TT a while ago)

The castle is a solid maybe. I'm also toying with a lighthouse, but that's a less solid maybe.

I've got the brewery, the irrigation system, and the greenhouse built in my test world. I started in the castle, just to see if it fits, but I don't like how it's looking, so I'm gonna restart it tomorrow. The maze would be a really cool addition, but I can't build trees (I'm horrible with organics, too). If we do build the castle, I'll put it in the middle of the moon lake. If not, then there's a flower lake that I found as well, but I ran out of photo space here

This next part isn't at all related to my build and is a rant about what our Admin has done

I'm pretty sure I've complained about this one person on here before, and she seems to be the source of all, if not most, of my troubles on this server. She didn't like that spawn wasn't mob proof, so she rallied some of the others and Admin relented. However, his compromise was to put trial spawners outside of the shopping district.

A few days ago, I asked if there was gonna be a specific place to set up shops and stuff, Admin said that he'd clear a spot for that near spawn. I didn't think "clear out" meant an enclosed circle (about 250 blocks across) encased in a 5 block tall wall about 100 blocks from spawn. Great, cool, I can work with that. It severely limits what I can do with my builds while keeping in mind everyone else building so close to me, but I can work with that. Unfortunately, my base is North of Spawn. The SD is South. The Shopping District has 3 entrances at South, West, and East sides of the wall that's been built. In order to get inside of it, I have to either go 200 blocks outta my way or fight through 12 trial spawners after traveling about 1000 blocks

I told Admin that I would not be going back to the SD until a Nether Portal was set up inside the wall because I'm not going to fight my way through trial spawners just because the others didn't want to place a few torches on the floor.

Speaking of Spawn! It's in the sky. It's a platform about 300 blocks in the air that you have to jump from and pray you land in water. Underneath it, Admin has built up something reaching up from a crater in the ground. It looks really cool, but I was under the impression that there weren't going to be any pre-planned story lines running on this version of the server.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for telling a good story, and I've been supporting the idea since he first brought it up to me in middle school. But, it feels forced now and I'm not having fun. (That might be because I, as the resident author in the group, was told that I'd get to help write the story and then was ignored in favor of my twin writing it. Yes, I'm self aware)

I'mma be honest here, at this point, I feel like starting my own multiplayer world and just letting everyone run free in a style closer to Hermitcraft than the DSMP.

Again, I love telling stories. My base is gonna tell a lot about my character (an established OC I've had for a while). But I can't get behind a story that feels forced.

And don't even get me started on the Admin Abuse! Now, I won't lie to you. I will admit that I have, in the past, abused my admin powers on the first server, but I only ever did that to perfect a build or keep myself from losing everything in the lava that covers the Nether. Admin, however, gives himself god armor, builds build after build after build, gives himself (and those in his good graces) effects and enchantments that you can't get while playing normal survival mode. Yeah, some of it was for his character, but we're not playing characters in this version of the server.

I love Admin, I really do, but I just-

I love [most] everyone on the server, too, but...

There're a lot of things that I personally have issue with on this server. I'm trying to keep it all to myself so that I don't ruin it for anyone else, but I might actually nuke my base and leave if it turns out that we are, in fact, actually rping on this one.

Anyway! I'm done venting for now. I found a mangrove forest, so I'm going to snag some wood and saplings from there. I also found another Sea Temple closer to where I want to build, so I'm gonna move my plans there instead. Now that I have quick access to the Nether, it'll be a lot easier to pick up and move. It'll be as though I was never there (as long as you ignore the hole under the water and the cobblestone in the Nether)

Before I go to sleep, I'mma be very proud of myself for a moment because I have never been this lucky.

Our Admin reset the Minecraft server, so now we're playing a normal survival world. I got on for the first time about 8pm yesterday.

In just about 3 hours I (in order) got enchanted leather armor, looted a shipwreck, looted a Pillager Outpost, looted a second shipwreck, found buried treasure (resulting in 3 diamonds, a Heart of the Sea, 2 water breathing potions, 5 gold, and 16 iron), and found a Guardian Temple.

I only died once, and it was to a zombie while I was getting coal.

My original plan was to find a nice cove to build a Pirate Ship and Town (inspired by Scar's Season 6 base), but now that's pushed back in favor of getting a Guardian Farm up and running.

...I feel like S8 Grian, doing later game stuff so early on... I'm not going after the Ender Dragon yet, though.

Anyway. I also need to get a Nether Portal and an Iron Farm set up before I can get a functional Guardian Farm (I think. I've never actually built one before) so those are pretty high on my to-do list. I figure, if I play for roughly 3-4 hours a day, I could get this all done by the end of the week. (With how much I tend to get sidetracked, though...)

Also, a bigger food source would probably be good, but I'mma wait until I've got a set base and a Nether Tunnel set up for that. For now, we're doing late-game on a starter's salary!

#random #minecraft #minecraft build #i play java so we'll tag it as java #minecraft java #i also play bedrock but i mostly stick to java #minecraft worldbuilding #minecraft server #minecraft build update #vent as well #reference photos #i wish i could give credit but idk where they were originally pulled from #i found them on tik tok #please let me know if you know the original builders because i would like to thank them for these beautiful builds

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hitnran · 3 years ago

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OBSESSIVE EX (gender neutral! reader)

how they deal with you having an obsessive ex

includes: ran, rindou

CW: obsessive behavior, cursing, stalking (ran), phone harassment (rindou), the haitani brothers lowkey kinda scary here (not to the reader) 💀 but i’m just trying to make it fit within their character

— RAN HAITANI

Getting into a relationship with someone like Ran, half of the charismatic brother duo that ruled Roppongi, almost means guaranteed safety wherever you go. His title itself is one that is feared when murmured. Whenever you two leave, he always has an eye and a hand on you. Ran knows well that even if he is feared, he can also be challenged and the last thing he wants is for you to get involved — you would make an easy target for his enemies.

You two were out together on a stroll around the city. Although there was nothing neither of you needed, Ran’s favorite thing is showing you off. Sometimes you start to feel similar to his younger brother, thinking that you’re just a shadow and only known as ‘Ran’s partner.’ But Ran’s intentions were opposite. He wanted everyone to know that it was him that belonged to you and it is him that people would have to deal with if you were ever tested.

As you two are walking, Ran noticed your eyes consistently checking itself to the side. He took note of that and eventually brushed it off since you stopped. But then he noticed that you were being especially keen and scanning the whole area.

“Are you okay, love?” Ran slightly hunches down, getting your attention as your face turns his way. He lightly smiles at you. “Did you see something you liked?”

You swallowed down hard. You could’ve sworn you saw a familiar face, but after trying to scan the area numerous times for the past few minutes, you thought it was just you being paranoid. The last thing you wanted was to worry Ran and cause a scene.

“I’m okay,” You shook your head, returning a light smile. You grabbed on his arm, this time a little tighter. “Let’s turn into this corner.”

Ran knows when you’re lying. He knew something made you uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to force you to tell him. Instead, he’ll make it his own problem too and deal with it himself.

This area was his territory and everyone knew it. It was almost as if Roppongi, a city known for liveliness, calmed down ever so slightly if one or both of the brothers were out. Everyone’s gaze wound be kept low and their conversations would go mute as they walk by.

At that moment, Ran could feel a pair of eyes staring your way. He won’t make it obvious though.

“Love,” Ran called out to you. You looked up his direction and he placed a hand against your lower back. “Rindou’s gonna throw a fit if I don’t bring back food for him. How about you go into the restaurant and order first while I call him and ask what he wants?”

You felt at ease hearing that you two were finally going to be in somewhere indoors, but it made you nervous that he would be separated from you for just a little while.

“Don’t wanna bring something back he won’t like and have him complain,” Ran lightly laughed, trying to ease your clear discomfort. He placed a hand over your head. Taking out his phone to add to his act. “I’ll be quick.”

After some hesitation, you gave in. It was a public space after all, so it shouldn’t have been anything to worry too much about. He watched as you entered the place before turning around, sending chills to the person who had been following you two around this whole time.

“Would be a shame if I left them alone for too long, wouldn’t it?” Ran gave off a sinister grin, slowly walking towards the person. “Wouldn’t want anyone to take them away…especially someone like you.”

Ran knew who this person was. He was an obsessive ex of yours that just would not leave you alone and accept the separation despite it being years passed. He gulped hard, nervously stepping back, not thinking that he would get caught.

“You were so bold to even follow us in the first place, why so shy now?” Ran smirked, hiking up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “This is the first time you’ve heard of me or something? I should introduce myself to you well and hard then.”

Almost ten minutes had passed since you’ve been waiting for Ran. You sat patiently and waited. Your best guess as to what’s taking him so long revolves around Rindou. Maybe he was complaining about how he wanted food from a different place or being picky about menu opinions. Just as you were about to raise yourself from your seat to check up on Ran, you saw him enter.

“Did I make you wait too long?” Ran appeared, seating himself in front of you. The worse case scenario you had in mind was that he got into a fight, but in front of you, he looked just as how you last saw him. “You know how Rindou is.”

Your chest became relaxed and you gave a small smile, shaking your head, “What did he want from here?”

“I didn’t even listen to what he said,” Ran teased, opening up his menu and leaning back against the chair. You felt his legs sandwich your calves from beneath the table. “He can order it himself. All my money is going to you today.”

And that was how Ran liked it. Although Ran wanted everyone to know that he belonged to you, he knew how important it was for others to know that you belonged to him too. The image of the face of your ex is burned so clearly into his brain — face all bloodied up, mauled almost, as he failed to even whisper for forgiveness.

“I think there’s only one way I’m gonna let you outta here alive,” Ran kicked his body down with force, hearing something shift in his jaw. He couldn’t give half a damn about it. “Do you know what that is?”

Your ex was visibly beaten and weak now, barely able to even blink or properly form a sentence. Though, with his adam’s apple slightly moving from fear, Ran took it as a response.

Grabbing him by his hair upward, Ran bent down, looking straight at him, “You’re gonna leave them alone and never show your goddamn face again. If it wasn’t fucked already before, it sure is now. I promise you I’ll know if you’re even barely visible or a mile away, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Ran thought it was so disgusting how someone like you could ever have your time wasted on someone low like this ex of yours. Even if Ran saw him and his brother above everyone else, he always put you above him.

“Maybe even after this, I’ll send one of my men to go and beat the shit out of you every day so you could suffer for as long as you’ve tried to bother Y/N.”

— RINDOU HAITANI

Rindou can’t even remember what it took for you two to even reach this state of your guys relationship. He convinced himself that it was Ran, his older brother who wouldn’t shut up about how he was going to take you if Rindou didn’t make a move.

It genuinely surprises himself even whenever he looks your way, observing every detail and soaking in the idea that you are someone he can call his.

You two were watching a movie, or rather, supposed to. Rindou was too focused on side-eyeing you every now and then. You caught him a few times, but he would brush it off with comments like “this movie is boring” or “I’m just checking to see if you fell asleep.”

He would snap himself out of a trance after hearing your phone ring beside you. You eyed it once, looking at the caller ID and ignoring it. It wasn’t enough to cause Rindou to worry - it’s not his problem if you just didn’t wanna answer a call, it was your guys’ time anyway.

But then it rang once more again. Your ringtone dragged itself out halfway through before Rindou slightly raised his hand from your hip, pointing to the phone on the side of the couch.

“You not gonna answer that?” He asked.

You shook your head, eyes focused on the TV, “It’s fine. It’s an unknown caller ID.”

Rindou shrugged, ignoring it once again, but after a few more calls and your phone receiving back to back text messages, it was starting to irk him. He was close to just grabbing your phone and answering the call himself, but you were quick to act before him, just shutting it off.

“It must be spam or something,” You sighed, sitting back down.

“Yeah, well whatever it is, good thing you shut that damn thing off. That shit was annoying,” Rindou sighed, curling his arms around you again. “Let’s change the movie too or something. This one is boring.”

One thing about dating Rindou is that he seems uninterested in absolutely everything he does. Although you avoid thinking like that when it comes to your relationship with him, you always remind yourself that Rindou is someone who deeply cares for you. He shows it very differently compared to others, but you know.

He can recall a memory from a few weeks ago where you kept getting calls in the middle of your guys’ date. It annoyed him, but not as much as it annoyed you. You’ve pressed the red decline button at least five times now, stressing over it and spilling out everything about your previous ex.

At the end of your rant, Rindou grabbed your phone, picking up the call and saying words as simple as “leave them alone.” It was so simple, but for the next few weeks, it was silent. You finally thought you were free of harassment thanks to your boyfriend, but recently, they’ve been coming back as unknown caller IDs and more frequent than before.

Halfway through the movie, Rindou felt your body become more loose and relaxed beneath him. Your breath became slower and more steady. You had fallen asleep. He thought it was ironic to have someone as angelic as you in the arms of someone like him - a gang member always involving himself in trouble, even just for fun.

He stared at your phone just a reach away and then back at you. The last thing Rindou wanted was for you to be uncomfortable, or really, anything that isn’t where you aren’t happy.

When you woke up, the TV was shut off and you felt a blanket drape over your body. You realized you had fallen asleep from earlier, but you were expecting to find your boyfriend with you as well. That was when the door swung open and you were greeted with Rindou.

“Rindou?” You slowly let out, still adjusting from waking up. “I didn’t know you left.”

He raised a bag up midway in the air, it’s a bag from a bakery you often bought from, “You kept murmuring about it in your sleep. Didn’t want you to wake up all grumpy.”

“I don’t wake up grumpy!” You protested, watching as he took his seat next to you and unpacking all of your favorites.

“Yeah, okay,” Rindou joked. He listened to you puffing out before wrapping yourself around his arm.

“Thank you though,” You murmured out of embarrassment - maybe he was half right.

“It’s nothing,” He replied, softening his face into a grin. “Must’ve been hungry though if it got you talking in your sleep and drooling on my arm.”

You didn’t even know about half of the things he does for you, but he didn’t mind it, because if you were happy, then that was all that mattered.

It made Rindou feel guilty to turn on your phone and look through it. It wasn’t something that he ever felt the need to do - he trusted you and it felt wrong if you weren’t aware that he was using it. Though, at this time, he felt like it was for the better.

While you were silently sleeping, he browsed through your texts. It’s that same person - your ex back again to bother you. Rindou scoffed, making sure it wasn’t loud enough to wake you up, but he was angry. He clicked his tongue whilst composing a message.

Rindou knew you would never be so stupid as to meet up with someone like this, especially not after already experiencing it once. It was a good thing that it was just Rindou posing as you though. How delighted your ex felt to have finally received a response to you - ‘Let’s meet up here.’

Rindou thought it was so pathetic. This guy had no idea what he looked like, let alone that you even had a boyfriend. So when Rindou’s immediate reaction upon seeing him was to throw a punch, he was shocked.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Your ex cried out, trying his best to dodge his attacks but failing in between his words and attempts.

“Me?!” Rindou snapped, pushing him to the ground and twisting his arms. “Speak for yourself.”

The man beneath him screamed in pain, “I-I’ll call the cops on you and have you arrested!”

“Yeah? You think they’ll give me less time if I tell them I was just trying to teach a creep a lesson?” Rindou pulled back on his arms a little harder, tendons and muscles stretching themselves out of place.

“T-The hell are you talking about?!” He stuttered out.

“Don’t bitch around. Might end yourself up in there if you keep this act of yours up - I’ve been once before,” Rindou smirked, pulling back more and more on his arms. “It was fine for me. My big bro and I even got some respect while in there, so what’s gonna happen when they hear about your name from me? You’re fresh meat to them.”

“W-Who even are you?!”

Rindou scoffed, “The same guy who warned you once to leave Y/N alone. I should’ve honestly went to find you myself personally and beat the shit out of you, but I hate wasting my time.”

Your boyfriend let the man go. If his arms weren’t all bent out of place and dislocated, he’d be crawling away by now. It was a sight that Rindou would laugh at. Upon seeing that his phone had fallen out of his pocket, the same phone used to consistently harass you, Rindou stomped down hard, breaking it into bits and pieces.

“Don’t waste my time again. Next time you do, call the cops, I promise you I won’t care if they catch me killing you,” Rindou turned his back around.

#tokyorev x reader #ran haitani #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader

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donutloverxo · 4 years ago

Note

NO BUT LIKE CONCEPT: SMUT HC where mob!steve comes back from a rough night that leaves him very much outta it and ur the only one who can help him ... in more ways than one

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

I'm making this a drabble cause I can't work with HCs. Thank you❤ Warmings -explicit sexual content, dom Steve, daddy kink, spanking, blood and wounds, bullets. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

You put some distance between your poor ear and your phone upon hearing your friends loud screech, excited since she saw your Instagram post of your new engagement ring.

"It is so beautiful! And so unconventional and unique too!"

"Mm-hm," you hummed, applying a second coat of your fiery red nail paint, to make it more intense, you just knew it'd look amazing against Steve's pale skin, he absolutely loved it when you scratched him and were a bit rough with him.

You never gave him any pointers on what kind of engagement ring you'd like, only thing that was a bit too obvious - which you never actually needed to say - was that you loved shiny things. So he has gotten you a ring with a huge sapphire ruby and tiny sparkly diamonds adorning the band. It was everything you needed and more.

"Makes sense because our relationship is anything but conventional." Where he had never directly said that his job involved a few things that were kind of, sort of, illegal but you weren't an idiot, it didn't take you long to figure out.

You knew he was important and rich when he asked you out, not just because he wore fancy clothes, but the way he carried himself, tall and proud and an aura that dominated any room he was in, two bodyguards always around him, and when you both started getting serious he assigned Peter, who was sort of an intern or newbie from what you gathered, to always escort you places and take care of you.

Maybe it wasn't exactly the most rational thing to do - marrying someone who was as feared as he was respected - but all you knew was that he was a good man and you had faith in him, so you stayed away from that part of his life.

"You must be planning the wedding now," she beamed over the phone.

You scoffed, blowing on your fingers, "No, he's always at work these days. It's so annoying, if it doesn't change then I'm leaving and taking the ring with me."

You looked at it sparkling on your finger, it was too beautiful to part with. Besides it became yours as soon as he gave it to you.

"You're late, but there's nothing new about that," you puffed out your cheeks, hands crosses under your chest, as he loosened his tie and worked on taking off his shoes. He had been coming home past midnight for the last month, enough was enough!

"Doll," he groaned, looking at you and ready to tell you off and ask for some space, but then he saw you. In a satin babydoll that barely covered you, with lace trimmings that did nothing to hide your soft nipples, your toes and nails painted just the color he liked, and you were wearing those ridiculous fluffy slippers with bunny ears that he had grown to love.

His mouth opened and then shut like a damn goldfish, forgetting what he was about to tell you.

"Steven," you furrowed your brows.

He knew he was in trouble as soon as you called out his full name. "Yeah?"

"When are we going to discuss the wedding?"

"I'm sorry, doll, work has been hectic these days. But soon."

"Soon? Soon doesn't do it for me," jutting your hip and leaning against the door to your walk in closet, "I need an exact date."

"I can't give it to you right now, puppy," his jaw clenching as you rolled your eyes, "Watch yourself, sweetheart. I had a long day, you don't wanna get on my bad side today."

"You shouldn't have put a rock on it if you didn't intend on marrying me," rolling your eyes extra hard just to get on his nerves.

"I do want to marry you. But right now... you're sort of making me have second thoughts."

He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. Because you looked about ready to smack him.

"Fine then. I guess I'll leave and go live with my mother from now on. She would be happy for sure, she isn't too thrilled about our engage - " you stopped your rant as soon as you noticed crimson seeping through his crisp white undershirt as he took off his coat.

Your eyes as wide as saucers, your heart beating fast and hard in your chest and you could feel your eyes getting watery. You weren't handing out empty threats, you were definitely serious about leaving. Just to remind Steve of just how much he loves you.

It wouldn't be the first time. You had done it once before, when you went back to live at your apartment because he yelled at you for going out with your girlfriends without Peter. You didn't need a babysitter, especially not one who was several years younger than you. You had gathered up your things from Steve's penthouse and went home with a heavy heart. You loved him with all your heart, but there was no way you could make it work with someone who was that controlling and mean to you.

But he came to you, literally got on his knees to apologize and to beg for you to take him back. He even made you give up your apartment and got you a bigger house for you both to live in. Just so you couldn't take off ever again.

"Steve... your bleeding..." you said as you held back a sob. Any anger you had towards him was now gone.

"Oh, shit," he looked down to his side, "Must've ruptured the stitch or something..."

You walked over to him, holding onto his waist and looking up at him, trying not to look at his wound. You weren't that squimish around blood, it rarely ever bothered you, but this was your Stevie, and he was hurt. "What happened?"

"Its... It's nothing, doll. It was an accident."

"Yeah, I guess you slipped and fell on a bullet," you huffed.

"No, the bullet barely grazed me. And you know I don't like talking about those things with you."

"Why? I'm not stupid or weak, I have a right to know."

"Of course, not, puppy. You're my sweet, strong, smart girl," he cooed, bending a bit to peck your lips and then groaning. "Gotta, be careful with this," he said as your fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

"If I'm so strong and smart then tell me what happened," you asked as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders. You didn't stop to marvel at his huge and perfect body like you always do, you looked at the fresh batch on stitches right over his hips.

"No, puppy. You're too good for that world, too good for me," he groaned as he sat down on the little pink couch he had put in the closet for you. Since you spent hours trying to pick outfits, he didn't want you standing too long and hurting your feet.

"Fine then don't tell me," you whimpered, rubbing your tears off with the back of your hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm right here, not going anywhere," he tried to pull you into his lap, usually he wouldn't even have to ask for you sit on it, but right now you were pulling away and refusing for some reason, "C'mere, doll," he almost whined. Not used to being told no by you anymore than you were by him.

"No, I don't wanna hurt you," you hiccuped, as your sobs started to calm down.

"You wouldn't. You could never hurt me. C'mere I wanna cuddle you and make you feel better," he tried to pull you into him again but you just shook your head.

"I should be the one making you better. Not the other way around. But I don't know how to..." you swayed from side to side, suddenly ashamed of your brash behavior from earlier. "I'm sorry, I was being such a brat earlier."

"It's okay, puppy. I forgive you. You were right, we need to fix a date and find a venue and get you a pretty dress. I wanna see you in one of those poffy gowns, like a princess."

"That's called a ballgown," you said proudly, having done your research now. You knew all about the styles of the gowns, sleeves, necklines, colors and everything. "And you're not going to be involved in dress shopping process. Grooms aren't supposed to see the dress before the wedding it's bad luck."

He hummed at that, a bit disappointed but he would eventually see it, and then take it off, so it wasn't a huge loss. "Yes, you're right. But, let's not forget, you were a bad girl."

You gasped incredulously, "Well, you were being a bad fiance!" Which earned you a swift smack to your backside, making you yelp and fall forward, holding onto his shoulders for support.

"I didn't mind you calling me out for that. I want you to be honest with me and tell me everything. But you threatened to leave me, again."

You pouted. Offended for being called out so blatantly. Yeah you always made empty threats, packed up your bags just for show, whenever you didn't get your way. Never considering his feelings when yours were hurt.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

"I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. But I'll have to teach you your lesson. Just so you know better next time."

You nodded your head, which made him spank you once more, "Yes, daddy!"

"Good. How many do you think you deserve?"

"Um... Fifteen. Ten for threatening to leave, and five for giving you attitude."

"See, you're so smart. I'll punish you tomorrow though. I'm tired right now," he groaned as he sat back against the couch, squeezing your hips and admiring your figure, showing through the thin material of your nightie.

"Um, daddy?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Is there anyway I can make you feel better right now?"

"Yeah, you can give me a kiss. You didn't give me one this morning when I left, or when I came back."

"Okay, I'll kiss you. But I also wanted to do more..." you murmured, your face burned hot as you realised that Steve was going to make you say what you wanted to do.

"Like what?"

"Like, take your cock down my throat. Would that make you feel better? I'll try and be careful about your stitches." Truth be told you missed being intimate with him, you needed it as much as he did.

"It definitely would make me feel better. But I want to have you close to me," he stroked the inside of your thighs, hands dangerously close to your cunt, "Why don't you, come ride my cock. Just like I taught you, hm?"

"But - what if I hurt you..." you whined. But he wasn't having any of it, rolling your panties down your legs.

"You wouldn't, puppy, come on we'll be careful. Be quick."

You gave him a meek nod, unzipping him with shaky fingers, giving his glorious cock a couple of pumps before straddling his lap. You made sure to not put any pressure on his lap. Lining his cock up to your pussy with your hands wrapped around his neck, you slowly sanked down on him.

First giving him a nice and thorough kiss to make him for not kissing him goodbye or welcome home like you always do. "I feel so full," you say against his lips.

He hummed, squeezing your ass, "I was made for you, angel. As you were for me." He slid the straps of your nightie down your arms, exposing your breasts to him. He made sure to shower them with all his lips, sucking, kissing and biting and pulling with his mouth. You were making the sweetest of noises, trying to keep your moans in as he helped you bounce on his cock by holding onto your hips.

"You're doing so good. Being such a good girl for me. My sweet, best girl," he cooed, kissing your forehead, he knew how you were still vulnerable to be on top.

"Am I making you feel better, daddy?" you sniffled, his cock hiting you in all the right places, making it impossible for you to keep going and hold off your climax.

"I'm all better already, thanks to you, puppy."

#berry answers #steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #steve x reader

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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 4 years ago

Text

Dog Tags

Billy Russo x Female!Reader

Request by @nebulastarr : Hey! Whenever requests open up again, could you do a Billy Russo x Reader where the reader liked Billy but doesn’t want to tell him because she thinks he won’t feel the same way

A/N: I was going to wait and get down to writing this once I was finished with my series... But this one has simply hit a little too close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I saw it and I ended up putting a lot of personal stuff in it so I’m sorry if it feels chaotic at times. Thank you for requesting, love, I hope it lives up to your expectations. The Only Living Thing series will be back with its third part next week. The song: Isak Danielson - Power

All you heard was an excited scream, that raised above all of the New York’s past-6-pm commotion, as a slender tall body smashed into you, locking you in a bone-crushing hug. You laughed happily, albeit feeling a little bit uncomfortable in Karen’s strong hold. You knew it didn’t seem that way, but Karen packed a wicked punch in those elegant arms of hers. Those self-defense sessions with Frankie boy that she’s been gushing about over the phone must have been finally paying off.

“Once I am done hugging you, I am so kicking your ass,” she breathed out into your hair as she squeezed you harder, as if reading your thoughts. “You’ve been ghosting me for what, a month now?”

You sighed guiltily as Karen pushed you slightly away, keeping her hands on your shoulders. You watched her as she studied your face, a creeping smile stinging at the corners of her mouth.

Grabbing one of her elbows, you groaned dramatically, pulling her towards the busy road. With your hands locked, you finally admitted:

“I did suck at communicating these past couple of weeks. Work’s been…. hectic”, the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but this was the best explanation you’ve been able to come up with so far. “Please don’t kill me”.

Trying to keep up with your power walk, Karen let a bubbling laughter leave her lips.

“You’re not the one who should be worried then,” she gave you one of those bright trademark smiles of hers. “Next time I’m going to interview Russo, I’ll…”

You stuttered at her tirade as you walked, and of course it didn’t go by unnoticed. Karen was the best journalist you have ever met during your prominent career. She just sensed that sort of thing.

“I’m getting this ‘I-meant-to-tell-you-Karen-but-I-didn’t-and-now-you’ll-need-to-fight-it-out-of-me’ vibe”, she gave you a scrutinising look. “Want to maybe share whatever it is you’ve been not telling me before I go full interrogation mode on your plump backside?”

You rolled your eyes as you led her to a terrace-ringed Upper East Side high-rise, waving to the doorman through the glass doors. Jackson, a thirty-five year old ex-military with three kids and a labrador, gave you a brilliant smile as he hurried to open them for you.

“Good evening, Mrs Y/L/N!” He bowed his head in a stiff, very army-like manner. “A package arrived this afternoon for you, should I bring it up?”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Karen looking around, confusion written all over her face. You had a lot to catch up on.

“Don’t worry about it, Jax, just give it to me,” you didn’t mean to urge him, but you couldn’t wait to change out of your corporate attire into some comfortable old pyjamas and crack open a bottle of whiskey - that’s right, some habits did die hard. And to think you were a bubbles-kind of girl a year ago when you met him.

You could feel Karen’s blue eyes drill a hole in the back of your head as you took a small, envelope-sized package from Jackson’s hands.

It wasn’t until you both stepped into the elevator that Karen cleared her throat.

“When you said you’d rather have a girls’ night in, I asked Frank to pick me up from Queens, not from…here,” she spoke, her eyes skimming expensive red wood and mirrors. “Did you finally sleep with Russo and moved in with him?”

Whatever it was that Karen expected you to say to that, it definitely didn’t include you spitting out a roaring laugh, as you nearly dropped the package on the floor.

“Quite the opposite, actually,” you informed her after you finally restored your breath. “I left Anvil. And, well, Russo. At the end of last month”.

—

A half-bottle of whiskey for you and a bottle of white wine for Karen later, both of you were sprawled out on the lambskins thrown over the hardwood floor in your living room. Jazz music was seeping out of the speakers by the TV, a couple of Diptyque candles emitting a soft yellow glow.

You stared at the ceiling of your new living quarters, your mind a blur. As you folded your hands on your stomach, you felt Karen twitch as she bent her elbow and leaned her blond head on the palm of her hand, facing you.

“So let me get this straight,” she paused, narrowing her eyes. “After becoming the Forbes’ hottest CSO, concluding what can easily be described as deals of the century - especially the one with Anthony Stark aka Iron Man and his magnificent goatee…”

Involuntary, you giggled at this. This talk brought out some very dear memories that you wouldn’t trade for the world - the way Billy’s dark eyes shimmered in the dim lights of the opera house as he gave you a look that said you did it, ever the perfect team… Or the way he threw his arms around your frame, his long fingers sliding down your back… You knew you looked good in that dress, but the moment Billy saw you wearing it… You felt like the only girl in the world, the way his jaw dropped a tad, his lips opening up in awe…

Oookay, Y/N, can’t go there, your mind screamed at you as you wiped that dreamy smile off your face. Sitting down, you took your whiskey glass, and washed those memories away with a gulp of amber liquid.

Meanwhile, Karen ranted on.

“…you just quit?!”

She jumped to her feet all of the sudden, brushing her blond hair away from her face as she watched you excitedly.

“Jesus Christ, did Billy make a move?! He made a move on you, didn’t he?”

The urge to facepalm was fierce, almost overpowering, but you managed to resist. Slamming your empty glass against the floor harder than you intended, you gave her a bored look.

“No, Karen, why… Why in the world would you think that?” You sounded just a little short of desperate, so you cleared your throat. “I was his second-in-command, that wouldn’t have been appropriate…”

When you were done studying the flame, dancing within the glass walls of one of the nearby candles, you raised your eyes to meet Karen’s. She wore quite possibly the most blatant look of ‘you are shitting me’ on her face.

“So you just quit?” she stared at you in disbelief, unblinking. “No explanations provided?”

“This wasn’t how it happened,” you said, hating the fact that you felt like you had to justify yourself. You brought your knees closer, hugging them tightly. “I…”

—

“…I’m here to see William Russo”.  

With a nonchalant gesture, you unbuttoned your Burberry coat, looking at a red-head secretary behind a desk that screamed power and status with every inch of its epic proportions.

Anvil was certainly new money. With all of those hedge funds injecting their cash into emerging companies, there was no shortage of these - entrepreneurial endeavours that didn’t last long.

You didn’t know that at the time, but you were going to make sure this one would.

“My name is Y/N Y/N/L,” you added, perching your sunglasses on top of your head. “He’s expecting me.”

The red-head gave you a polite smile before checking something on her Mac.

“Welcome, Miss Y/N/L,” she almost seemed shy, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before standing up. “Mr Russo is indeed waiting for you. If you would like to follow me, please”.

As the redhead led you through the training grounds, packed with fit men and women that looked like they walked straight outta Gym Shark ad, you did notice a couple of vagrant stares in your direction. You couldn’t blame them. You looked slightly out of place; more Vogue than the setting allowed for.

You quit your job as the COO of a global FinTech company just weeks ago, looking for a new challenge. It was an adventure of a lifetime, and while your ex-executive board had literally begged you to stay, once you’d decided something, no promise of a generous promotion could make you change your mind. While you absolutely loved your job, working for one of the most prominent online payment giants in the world, it felt like it was time for you to step down. Due to all the processes and wise investments you’d initiated, the company could make millions of profits without their CEO having so much as to lift a finger.

And you, well, you lived for the hustle. And that’s exactly what you were here for.

You still had your doubts about Anvil’s owner and acting CEO, though. William “Billy” Russo had already become a household name in the financial circles, albeit the company he was spearheading had little to do with the FinTech space. Some said he had the potential to succeed; others badmouthed him for being ruthless and balancing on the very edge of legal limits.

In short, the man had you intrigued. So the very moment he called and invited you to drop by Anvil to talk strategy, you knew you had to meet him.

See the beast for yourself, so to speak.

The first thing you noticed about William Russo as you walked into his office, spacious and entirely transparent, with its glass walls overlooking the training grounds, was experience, for the lack of a better word. It was etched into his every handsome feature, especially into his scruff strong-willed jaw. As he raised his gaze to meet yours upon the red-head’s announcement, his black eyes swallowing you whole, you realized no light reflected on their surface. There was a certain confidence to him as he raised from his chair, his white shirt straining some over his chest, long dark strands of hair falling onto his long eyelashes. This man meant business, as those black impenetrable eyes zeroed in on yours. He almost seemed too flawless - to spotless to be an ex-marine, stained with blood and murder.

All that Hallmark handsomeness was nothing but a cover.

Before William Russo had even got a chance to open his mouth, you were determined to find out what was lurking underneath.

“Mrs Y/L/N”, the hot-shot gave you a polite smile. “Thank you for coming”.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russo”, you didn’t move an inch. He may have invited you for interview, but he wasn’t the only one with a long set of demands.

You briefly wondered if he knew that.

Before your thoughts could take you further, William Russo made his way to you, composed and calculated. He stopped by your side, albeit for a moment; rolling the sleeves of his shirt further up, he shot the red-head a charming smile (nothing like the one he gave you).

“Olivia, would you please bring a fresh pot of coffee to the conference room? Mrs Y/L/N and I have a lot to discuss”.

When he turned back to face you, you noted unconsciously that he was taller than you expected, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders. The cool and composed look was back on his face as he motioned towards the doors.

“Would you like to follow me, Mrs…”

“Y/N”, you cut in with a slight raise of your chin. “I’d also prefer to call you William while I tear Anvil’s strategy down”.

His reaction didn’t disappoint. Some tension left his arms, his stung-up body relaxing just enough for a spark of mischief and curiosity flicker its way to his eyes’ surface.

A twinkle of a smile danced across his lips as he bit on the inside of his cheek, nodding ever so slightly in approval.

“It’s Billy”, he said, amusement echoing in his every word. "I don’t expect any leniency, Y/N”.

“Good”, you replied instantly, looking him straight into his eyes. “That’s not what I came here for”.

He nodded again.

And this time, there was liveliness in the quirk of his brow and a touch of insecurity in the corners of his mouth.

Now that was the man you could potentially work with.

—

Working with William Russo was anything but predictable. There were, however, certain patterns to his way of handling things. Whatever the trouble was, Billy was good at seeing the bigger picture - he was usually able to put things into perspective, but there were occasions when he refused to. You dare say that sometimes, you felt like he thought that money didn’t matter - like Anvil’s financial prosperity didn’t matter - as long as his team got not to risk their lives one extra time. You watched him turn down several lucrative deals that you’d busted your ass to put on his table, because it involved sending his men a little too far from home, in a place where he had no strings to pull whatsoever should anything go south. A part of you (the part that wasn’t frustrated as hell) admired him for that - it didn’t, however, stop you from disagreeing with him, time and again.

You may have never been to Iraq, and may have never known the horrors of sleeping with the bombs exploding a mere kilometer away, but you knew a game-changer when you saw it. There were risks involved, there was no arguing about that, but those were calculated, and those kind of deals could make Anvil jump straight to the top of the private military sector overnight.

William and you disagreed.

When William and you disagreed, no voice was raised, no blood was spilt, but Billy usually became distant, cold and just short of snappy when those conversations took place. 

He only crossed the line once.

  You were three months into your job as Anvil’s Chief Strategy Officer when Mayhew happened.

The clock on your desk showed midnight as you paced in your office, on the phone with Rex Mayhew, the U.S. Ambassador in Cairo. A cat-and-mouse game between the Egyptian Armed Forces and the nefarious arms dealer group had become common knowledge since a week or so; the U.S. special forces got involved in the conflict when it’d been discovered that the arms were being transported onto American soil. Rex, an old friend from your Yale days, had let you in on the fact that General Richard Ravelin, in charge of the operation, was looking to reinforce his rangs with private military before “neutralising the threat”. This was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, with a potential governmental recognition in play… and Billy wanted to hear nothing of it.

You were exhausted and barely hanging in there; Billy was categorical and stubborn.

You’ve dropped the phone on your table promising Rex you were going to give him an answer in two hours, tops. Taking a deep breath, you walked out of your office, your bare feet thudding on the parquet floors of the corridor. When you reached Billy’s hideout, you found the man leaning against his desk with a glass of whiskey in his unnerved hand.

“Billy…” you spoke firmly, barely stepping through the doorway. “Rex…”

“Can go fuck himself”.

Oh, okay. No sugarcoating this. Alright.

You saw his lips barely touch the amber liquid as he slammed the glass against the surface of his desk.

“I said no, Y/N,” he wasn’t facing you anymore, leaning on his desk with his hands digging into the wood, his back tense. “Please just go home. Have a good night sleep. We will talk about this tomorrow.”

You could have sworn you felt your head starting to fume. This was the third time Billy Russo was shutting you down. For the third time he was making you feel like an incompetent fool when you were trying to do your goddamn job.

Why in hell would he hire you if whatever vision you had for Anvil didn’t match with his own?!

“You could at least say this to my face, Billy,” you spoke a bit harshly before you could stop yourself. “You know, to my tired and disappointed face, with a mouth that you have been shutting up every time it offers you a deal of the century”.

This sounded so much better in your head.

“Why did you hire me?” you asked almost immediately, trying to soften the impact of the words that had already escaped. “If this isn’t the direction in which you want to take your company, maybe I should just…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N, just fucking leave already!” Billy snapped like a branch that’s been holding too much weight, the sound of it dry and final.

…maybe I should just rethink the entire plan.

There was no point in finishing that sentence now, was there?

“I was there long before you came along, so I’d think I know a shitstorm in the making when I see one!” Billy was looking at you alright, brushing his hair back, his eyes black and void.

You had wished It would have been new to you - looking in William Russo’s eyes and not seeing him there. But it wasn’t. He was back to his Hallmark version of a man, but instead of playing a hero, he was now putting on his villain guise.

“Let’s get something straight here,” he leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms on his chest, his black eyes narrowed. “While you were making your way to the top of a rich-ass cookie-cutter FinTech company, I was crawling in the dirt in Iraq under a downpour of the Trident D5LE missiles. While the closest thing you’ve come to havin’ your hands dirty was bribing an investor or two, I was fucking beheadin’ people under the direction of the CIA,” his words were cold, measured and rhythmic, like a round of bullets being fired on a range. “You know nothing of what’s it like to be in the middle of that kind of shit show, princess, so when I fucking say no, you listen. Is that clear?”

Bark. Sit. Roll over.

“Crystal. Sir.”, you finally broke the heavy silence hanging in the air, just barely resisting the urge to salute him. “I’ll see myself out.”

Biting the inside of your cheek like your life depended on it, once you turned your back on him, your first thought was don’t you dare cry on his account, bitch and then almost right away wait at least until you’re home.

You could have sworn you heard William call your name in a stranded voice, but you made sure to slam the door somewhat hard as you left his office so you could pretend you didn’t hear him.

If you were to face him now, with all that power and toughness he exuded… You would never admit it, even to yourself, but you’d just end up on the floor, huddled into a shivering little ball.

—

You were grateful that the next day after the shit went down with Mayhew fell on a Friday. When you stumbled into your apartment in Queens at almost one in the morning, you immediately shot an email to the HR department asking for a day off. Once that’d been done, you dialled Rex to decline his offer to introduce Anvil to general Ravelin, washed the makeup off your face and crawled into bed, hugging the second pillow close to your chest.

You didn’t cry, if that’s what you’re wondering.

As you rolled out of bed in the morning at around 8 am, you took a shower and grabbed a coffee from the kitchen before settling behind your home office desk with a heavy head. When you opened up the Keynote presentation with your strategy outlined for the H1, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the iPhone you left on your couch last night.

You weren’t going to check if you had any missing calls.

There was nothing you had left to say to each other.

…with your chest hollow, you powered up the screen. There were no missed calls and no new messages.

It all looked like you had another strategy to build now. If Billy Russo thought that calling you a rich-ass princess that knew nothing of the world, all butterflies and rainbows, was going to make you resign, then man, was he in for a surprise.

You once heard one of his men compare you to a military convoy, when the guy thought you weren’t listening.

He had no idea.

You spent the morning refilling you coffee cup and rebuilding your H1 plan from scratch. After about eleven calls with the people you knew could get you a foot in the door of the offices of some government officials, billionaires and generals, after typing, deleting and typing again for 5 hours straight, by 2pm you had a solid game plan. You were pretty sure it would still need some tweaking from Castle, who essentially held the role of the Chief Operating Officer, dispatching men and women on missions and planning operations, and, well, from Billy Russo.

The Badass-ex-Sniper-turned-CEO himself.

You kept the email short and to-the-point, sending the document over to Russo with Castle on copy, saying you’d be in the office to debrief on Monday.   Refusing to check whether your email’d been opened, you slammed your MacBook shut.

The rest of the day rolled on uneventfully. You grabbed a coffee with the People Culture Officer from your previous company, who also happened to be one of your dearest friends; then you picked up your dry cleaners and did some shopping, cracking for a pair of new shoes in Saks Fifth Avenue.

Shoes were, indeed, your weakness.

By the time you got home, the tired sun was yawning, stretching its rays in one last effort before rolling into bed. Humming a Dua Lipa song under your breath, you were putting your new Jimmy Choo’s away when you suddenly heard your phone ring.

You didn’t even have to look at it to know who it was.   You checked the time, however, noticing is was two minutes after the official end of the working day.

“Hi, Y/N”, Billy spoke, clearing his throat. “Are you… Um… Any chance you’re available to meet tonight? I would really appreciate it if you could give me fifteen minutes of your time. Please.”

It sounded like the real Billy Russo was back around. Insecure. Rugged. Imperfect.

“Can you pick me up?” you asked softly, “I’ll text you my address. There’s a pizza place just around the corner, I could use a free slice”, you circled the cold coffee cup you left on the counter with your finger. “Free as in you’re paying, Russo”.

A laugh that came somewhere from within caressed your ear.

“Uh, yes, I’m actually… Yeah, thanks. I’m leaving the office now,” even if he tried to hide it, a shocked surprise still seeped through the cracks in between the vowels.

You chuckled silently at his reaction.

“Just one more thing,” you ventured, placing the cup in the sink and making your way to the balcony - your small piece of heaven with a wooden chair, pillows and lavender. As you stepped outside, you put oyour free hand on the railing, just to feel the coolness of it, the evening air and the gentle flower smell stroking your skin. “What kind of car should I be on the lookout for?”

Billy hesitated, biting his bottom lip, running his nervous fingers through the thick strands of dark hair. The setting sun was hitting him just from the right angle, making his sculpted cheeks look like they were made of marble.

“A Rolls Royce Wraith”, he squirmed, rubbing his forehead, probably realising how lame and pretentious it sounded. “I’ll call you once I’m downstairs”.

“Uh-huh”, you smirked, leaning on the railing with your forearms.

You saw Russo pinch the bridge of his nose, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again.   Your small balcony provided quite a view, when you really thought about it.

“Don’t take too long”, you couldn’t help it, it really was stronger than you. “I’m starving”.

With a wide grin, you dropped the call and went back into your apartment.

You were planning to make him wait for ten extra minutes when he would finally “arrive”.

Just for the hell of it.

—

“That’s a lot of hot sauce for one pizza”, Billy commented, watching you spray your truffles and cheese generously with the piquant olive oil.

You gave him a mischievous smile.

“What can I say,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and licking the tip of your finger after you swept a drop of it from the top of the bottle. “I like them hot”.

That startled a laugh out of Billy as he eyed you with something in his irises looking a lot like awe.

Just when he was about to speak, a servant brought a glass of red wine for him and bottle of sparkling water for you.

You thanked the guy with a sweet smile, while Billy eyed him a bit coldly, obviously waiting for him to leave.

When the waiter had finally made himself scarce, Billy softly called your name.

You raised your eyes to meet him, struggling as hell to keep your stare vacant. (Which was hard to do with some foreign tightness in your throat).

“Before we dig in and I hope spend a nice evening as two friends, getting together on a Friday night”, he didn’t even blink? Was he blinking? You couldn’t tell, his black eyes swallowing you whole, again. “I want to apologise. I was completely out of line… It was unacceptable. You don’t need my validation, of course, but I still want you to know that you are doing a terrific job at Anvil, taking us to the heights I never even thought existed. It’s just… It’s hard for me sometimes to be a good CEO and someone who promised to take care of my men at the same time… Everything is happening so fast, I’m afraid to lose my footing.”

You reached out for his hand across the table before you could stop yourself. You didn’t take it, but your fingers brushed his ever so slightly before you realized what you were just about to do. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, searching for a reaction.   Billy remained perfectly still, not taking his eyes off you.

You grabbed a napkin next to his wrist, pretending this was what you had meant to do all along.   “We’ll get there, Billy”, you said, a small encouraging smile blooming on your lips. “We just need some tweaking”.

You weren’t sure if you were talking about strategy at this point anymore.

—

You had a great time at dinner.

(And a whole-hearted laugh as Billy finished your remainders of the truffle pizza, downing a litre of water to numb down the burning sensation in his throat afterwards).

You talked about your respective lives, your ex-colleagues, your hopes for the future… You dared think this who the real Billy Russo was.

And he was incredible.

After the two of you were done with dinner, you offered him to come upstairs to your place and go through the new strategy together. He didn’t hesitate, although you could swear you’d seen something ambiguous flash in the depths of his dark eyes before he nodded.

(You must have imagined it.)

The two of you ended up sprawled out on your soft faux fur carpet talking game plan, bouncing ideas off each other. You watched Billy frown, as he rubbed his mouth with his long fingers, smile in excitement and shake his head in awe when you voiced your ideas - you felt proud and appreciated, and you wouldn’t trade the sensation for anything in the world.

A couple of hours later the two of you had finally decided that it was enough brainstorming for one night, and you rose to your feet to go and make Billy a coffee before he got behind the wheel. As you pushed the start button on your coffee machine, you heard him speak over the noise.

“You know I’ve done four tours - three in Iraq and one in Afghanistan”, you popped your head up, only to see him play absentmindedly with something on his chest. “And every time I’m considering a mission for Anvil, I find myself back in there again… A part of a death squad.”

You carefully picked up his cup of coffee and made your way back to him. You didn’t say a word as you leaned lower to hand it over to him, encouraging him to go on.   Billy thanked you in a whisper before clearing his throat.

“Every time I have to send them somewhere, especially overseas, I force myself to stop and think… Is this really worth it? Is a fat check really worth putting the lives of my men and women in danger? And most importantly - you may think it’s stupid…” he avoided your gaze, staring into his coffee cup, a miserable smile on his lips. “I think, will it make a difference? If one of them dies on a mission, I have to at least know they made a difference… it’s selfish and it’s more about the peace of my own mind, but it is what it is, you know?”

When he looked up at you, his eyes were full, full to the brim. There was so much emotion in them, hatred, misery, hope, adoration, all whipped in a wild mix that was Billy Russo’s dark, velvet eyes.

“I carry these at all times,” the fingers of his free hand dropped to his chest, as he got a hold of something hanging around his neck. A necklace? “When in doubt, I just look at them - they help me remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done - and I just know if it’s worth it or not. The answer is usually no, by the way”.

He smiled again, the curve of his lips looking less haunted this time, as he sipped on his coffee.

Dog tags. Those were Russo’s dog tags.

“So they’re your reminder that, even being a badass CEO of a private military company”, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of zero gravity settling in your lower stomach as you saw him chuckle at your words. “…you still have a heart”.

“How poetic”, Billy teased you without missing a beat, putting the empty cup on the floor next to him. “But yeah. Sort of, I guess”.

As you fell asleep that night, you dreamed about explosions, piquant olive oil and holding Billy Russo’s dog tags in your hand.

—

The time flew by after that. In 8-month time (after some tweaking) Billy Russo and you became a team. It sometimes felt like nothing could stop you, as long as you were together.

It should not have come as a surprise that the two of you earned yourselves a catchy nickname - at first, it was spoken solely behind your backs, but soon enough it became some kind of a title, more powerful than that of the CEO or the CSO.

Anvil’s men and women (and especially Frank - the fact that he invented the nickname secretly tickled him pink) - were now calling you Bonnie and Clyde. The ultimate partners in crime, against all odds, doing the impossible.

The two of you also settled in an almost homely kind of routine. Ever since that Mayhew fiasco and the day that followed, Friday had become the non-spoken partners in crime day. What it meant in practice was exchanging Friday jokes on Anvil’s internal communications suite…

(Billy once attacked you with a “would you look at this, just found the actual footage of your interview @ Anvil”. Before you even got a chance to answer, he forwarded you a cheesy meme with two old women speaking to each other, one of them saying “We need someone who can do the job of two men”, and the other responding “oh, so it’s only a part-time job then”. When you shot him back a message asking whether he really considered himself an arthritic old woman, that seemed to have shut him up).

…grabbing a beer in a bar nearby…

(you sometimes invited your colleagues to join you, plus it was an unspoken rule that Frank and Karen were to be there as well)

…you making fun of Billy Russo’s eating habits…

(It was honestly a nuisance to have a lunch with him. The list of things he refused to eat went on and on: no asian food, no food chain restaurants (even high-rated), no soups, no cheesecakes… He sure was settling well in that peaceful life he earned after spending all those tours living off canned food).

…and just overall enjoying each other’s company.

By the time the ninth month of your being Anvil’s CSO had rolled in, you couldn’t imagine not seeing Billy Russo every day. Not noticing him rolling his eyes at a smart-ass comment you or Frank made, or his orbs lighting up every time you told him the deal with that or this decision maker had gone through. You simply could not understand how you managed to live day in and day out, and think you were genuinely happy, before you actually met Billy. Everything before him just faded away somehow, your memories lost their colour and spike in comparison to the life you were living now. You kicked ass at your job, your career thrived, but most importantly, you were feeling like this was exactly where you were meant to be, braving the obstacles by Billy Russo’s side, knowing he would catch you should you fall.

He would, wouldn’t he?

It was your usual Friday night outing, the seven of you - Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis, James from legal, Ashley from mine clearance and yourself - occupying your usual table at Whimsy, the bar that must have made 90% or their revenus off of Anvil’s folk. It was just around the corner from the headquarters, after all.

The overall mood of the evening was rather nostalgic. It’d been four weeks since you’d lost a team member in a crossfire in Falluja, Iraq. After everything was said and done, his loss still hung heavy in the air, and it felt right to get one more drink in Jasper’s honour. The conversation flowed easily, even though the topics you’d spoken about were anything but.

“I remember how I felt when I lost Andy”, Ashley nursed her beer as she stared into the distance. “I just literally had the weight of the entire world on my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, I just couldn’t move on”, she finished her bottle in one go and motioned for the bartender to bring her another one. “Sometimes, I just ask myself, what would have I done if I’d known he was going to die the next day? Would I have stopped him from going? I think I would,” she thanked the bartender as he put the beer in front of her, her eyes a bit foggy. “Yeah, I definitely would have.”

Frank grasped Ashley’s shoulder and squeezed it hard in a comforting gesture; Karen gave her a tender look.

You didn’t know why your mind had gone there, but all of the sudden a memory of Billy sitting in his office chair, laughing his ass off at some offhand comment you’d made flashed before your eyes; it quickly got replaced by the recollection of his hand brushing against yours during the Zoom meeting you’ve had with general Warren Singer; then you remembered him putting his hand on the small of your back, staring daggers at some army brat wanting to join Anvil, eyeing you like a piece of meat (you learned later that day that the man’d been thrown out before having a chance to introduce himself); until finally, your brain stopped dead at the picture of Billy running his nervous fingers through his hair as he called you from his car, telling you he was only leaving the office.

What would you do if you knew he was going to die tomorrow?

Your heart sunk at the thought as you gulped hard, ducking your head and staring at your hands folded in your lap.

A soft touch enveloping your elbow had you facing the man of the hour, his black eyes shimmering with concern.

“Are you okay?” he half-whispered, half-mouthed, not letting go of your hand.

No.

Nothing is okay, Billy.

I’m so happy that I met you, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.

I never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point…

So stay. Please, stay forever, and feel something for me, too.

“Yes. I’m fine,” you whispered back, staring into his eyes, hypnotised and helpless. You watched him turn away from you as if in slow motion, the warmth of his hand leaving nothing behind but emptiness in your bones.

“Here is to always telling the things that matter to the people who matter”, Billy spoke firmly, raising his beer. “Here’s to never missing a chance to open up to the people we love”.

Well, if this was his way of crossing the t's and putting the dots to the i’s regarding his feelings for you, he couldn’t have been clearer.  

As far as confessions of love went, this one was non-existent.

—

You tried, time and again, to convince yourself you had to go. You learned the hard way that your unrequited feelings were feeding on a sort of inadvertent parasitic relationship where every moment of your day depended on the level of Billy’s unintentional emotional indifference. Your days were spent questioning his every move - every look and every touch; until, the grown-ass woman that you were, you’d commanded yourself to stop second-guessing everything - stop feeling - and decided your best course of action would be… to work yourself into the ground.

If Billy ever noticed anything, he didn’t show it - your were still you, after all, working hard, laughing when he said something funny, calling him out on his bullshit when needed. He didn’t notice slight change in your eyes, when their icy surface cracked at every other compliment he threw in your direction (and there was no shortage of those). He didn’t realize the smile you gave him was different from those tightlipped signs of appreciation you gave to Anvil’s potential clients, he didn’t think twice about the reason for which you glowed around him, your every move softening, your every gesture emanating warmth.

Because Billy hadn’t really known you until you started to have feelings for him.

You knew this couldn’t go on forever. This entire situation was bound to result in some explosion of nuclear proportions, and then all hell would break loose. You needed to get yourself out of this situations, but you just… couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine your life without Billy Russo. You couldn’t leave him.

Even if being friends with him meant tearing yourself apart and suffering in silence.

  Long story short, you waited with fear in your bones for someone to walk into your life and to get you out. You’ve had no fight left in you to do it yourself.

Your salvation came in the form of a phone call on a Friday evening, when Billy was on a recruiting mission in California.

You were typing back a response to his cheeky message when the call cut in half-sentence.

Billy Russo: Please remind me to take you with me instead of Frank next time? He’s driving me insane trying to set me up with the ladies from the Organising Committee. Any ideas on how I can calm him the fuck down?

You: Sorry, Billy, but recruiting is out of my mission scope. As for the calm down part, try bondage maybe? :)

Billy Russo: I’m going to pretend you did not just suggest I engage in sexual practices with Frankie. Karen will have my balls.

Billy Russo: But perhaps you’re right. Taking you with me is probably not a good idea. Wouldn’t want my new recruits’ brains to turn into mush because of how beautiful you are.

You: The flattery will….

“Hello? Y/N speaking”, you brought your phone close to your ear, your cheeks still a lovely shade of pink. If you were going to feel miserable when Billy came back, acting like nothing happened, you were sure going to make the best of that fuzzy feeling in your chest right now.

“Miss Y/N/L”, a smooth deep voice greeted you, and you could have sworn you’d heard it many times before. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”

Frowning in an attempt to remember, you urged:

“No, not at all. How can I help you?” you stared into the screen of your Mac, wheels turning in your head as you silently catalogued all the men you were in discussions with regarding a deal. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Oh, how rude of me”, the man chuckled but there was no mockery in his voice, more like self-depreciation. “Tony Stark, from Stark Industries”.

Your mind went blank. Did you hear his last words correctly?

“Uh… Mr. Stark”, you quickly got a hold of yourself - well, as quickly as you could. “I appreciate you reaching out to me directly. What can Anvil do for you?”

You did a pretty bang-up job trying to mask your amazement with polite cheerfulness, and Stark had caught on that.

Tony Stark just called your cellphone number. What in the world?…

“We don’t really do alien invasions”.

Ohyourgod, did you just say it out loud?!

His uproarious laughter took you by surprise, reverberating through your entire body. It took every ounce of your self-control not to giggle in response.

“That’s a good one, I love it”, Stark finally said, restoring his breath. “And the better question would be, Y/N - can I call you Y/N? - what you can do for me”.

Before your brain could take you into some naughty direction, freaking Iron Man cleared his throat.

“Okay, this came out wrong,” he admitted with a sense of self-irony. “I um… I’m looking for the Co-Chief Executive Officer for Stark Industries. Well, Virginia Potts is actually looking for a Co-CEO, I’m just her errand boy. And my missions apparently include recruiting…. Anyway,” it was a bit of a challenge to follow Anthony Stark’s train of thought, but you were also still shocked, so that could explain it. “…I think you are the perfect fit for the job”.

You just stared into the screen front of you, your breathing barely audible.

“Mrs Potts and I would love it if you could swing by the A-Tower, let’s say, on Thursday? You’ll be surprised, but I can also whip up a mean cup of coffee…”

Say something.

Fucking hell.

Say something!…

“Thursday sounds great,” you blurted out without thinking. “Let me just shuffle my schedule around… I could stop by after lunch?”   Your hands were slightly shaking as you clicked on your mouse, opening your schedule window.

“Whatever works for you, Y/N”, you could hear Stark smile. “Not to sound like a creep, but I’ve been following your career for quite a while now, and I think that the work you've done in such a short span of time for Anvil is outstanding, even though you still don’t offer protection from alien invasions”.

That made you chuckle, pushing you halfway out of your stupor.

“I’ll put that on the list of things for us to consider”, you promised.

"Tell Mr. Russo I sent my best,” Stark added, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “I actually might have some ideas for how we could collaborate. Let's discuss this on Thursday, too, shall we?”

After you said your goodbyes, you fell back in your chair, dropping your iPhone on the table.

You: The flattery will….

...get you nowhere.

You never finished that message, leaving Russo on Read.

—

Starting with that evening, things were moving fast - too fast for you to keep track.

After a three-hour long coffee and the tour of the A-Tower, Virginia Potts, the acting CEO of the Stark Industries, had offered you the job - just like that - and asked you to come back to her executive assistant should you wish to take the job, with your salary expectations and the information about your notice period. You thanked her for her time and promised to get back to her as soon as you made your decision.

Virginia Potts was a brilliant woman; but running a company like Stark Industries while being equipped with a vagina was certainly no walk in the park. Sexism was still very much present within the Boards of the Tech Businesses. You understood perfectly well why she wanted a woman in her corner - it would have been a massive slap in the Board’s face, but it was also about having someone to lean on, who just understood.

In any other circumstances you would have peed your pants in excitement. It was an opportunity to work for Stark Industries - no, scratch that - it was an opportunity to step in as a Stark Industries co-CEO. The idea of it still made you dizzy.

…but as you looked at Virginia’s email sent to your personal address thanking you for stopping by, your eyes were swimming with tears.

You weren’t ready to leave Billy.  You just couldn’t.  You couldn’t leave him.   There was no epic finale to your story. There was no big revelation, no closure, no moment of relief, no acceptance, nothing. Only a fat-ass what if.

And you didn’t know how to let go of a what if with Billy Russo.

And that was exactly why you had to do it.

You heard Billy come in the next Monday earlier than usual. He was positively humming Usher’s Yeah! quietly as he made his way past your office’s doors straight into his own.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’ve been psyching yourself up during the entire weekend, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal, we wouldn’t even flinch when you were going to tell him.

You had to tell him.

As you stood up from your chair, straightening you skirt with the palms of your hands, you suddenly heard the footsteps coming back in your direction. You froze in place like a deer in headlights when Billy swung open the door to your office, a box of Pierre Hermé macarons in his hands.

Your goddamn favorite Pierre Hermé macarons.

“You’re here!” Billy’s warm smile illuminated the room. “So much for a surprise, huh?”

He shook the box carefully in the air. You stared at it, dumbfounded, every single thought leaving you.

You couldn’t breathe.

In the hazy morning light seeping through the windows of your office, Billy looked beautiful and dissolute, shirt open at the collar, longer strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.

He was going to be the death of you. It really wasn’t fair.

“Billy, I have to tell you something.”

Was it you who spoke those words? They seemed distant and cold, so uncharacteristically detached.

Blood roared in your ears.

“What’s wrong?”

Billy’s reaction was instant. In three decisive steps he closed the distance that separated you, leaving the macarons on your desk. He stood still just mere inches away, and just like during your very first meeting, you had a fleeting thought cross your mind: you really were tiny next to him, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders.

You bit the inside of your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure. He stared at you unblinking. He wasn’t touching you, but it felt like his eyes were looking straight into your soul, undressing you, blowing that wall you built around yourself into dust. They were taking you down, piece by piece, determined to see what you’d been keeping from him.   Because, of course, he knew. He should have known something was going on. Hence the surprise this morning.

He had no idea what it was though.

“Maybe you should sit,” you said, making a physical effort to tear your eyes away from him, feigning sudden interest in the buttons of his shirt.

  That chest…

  …was going to be just fine. He didn’t feel the same way you did. He would just find someone else to fill your position. With brilliant women stalking him - in cooperative packs - that would not be a problem.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you”.

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as his words reached your ears.  Fucking hell, you should have done that by phone. Or with other people around. You should have…

“You’re leaving”, you heard Billy repeat as his voice broke a little. He stepped away, burying his face in his hands as he dragged them down his jaw and neck, staring into the ceiling.

“Billy, listen, I…”

You were the one to close the space between the two of you this time, and before you could think too much into it… You threw your hands around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

The sensation struck you like a bolt of lightening when you felt his hands cross behind you back and pull you closer.

He smelled heavenly. Like a forest fire, a hint of smoke with oud and pine. You inhaled deep, deeper still, losing yourself in his comforting touch.

In his arms, just for a second there, you felt home.

“You… The company doesn’t need me anymore”, you nearly choked on words, screaming internally at yourself to keep the waterworks at bay. “It’s thriving, there’s not much else I can give you. My job here is done.”

I need to leave because your indifference is destroying me, and when I think I’m ready to let go, all it takes is one look from you, and I’m back to wanting you, to settling for anything you give me, like a goddamn fool.

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?!” Billy exclaimed, his hands grasping your shoulders as he distanced your bodies just enough for him to look into your eyes. “I nee- The company needs you! I was… You know, I was planning to make you the CEO of Anvil in a couple months time,” his smile, as earnest as it was, did not reach his eyes. “Yeah”, noticing your eyes go wide in shock, he let his hands slide down your sides. “You’re so much better at it than I ever was. I was going to join Frank and just manage operations… under you”.

You just stared at him, dumbfounded, not feeling a stray tear escape your eye and rolling down your cheekbone.

“These are the tears of happiness, I hope”, Billy added, and you barely registered his touch as his thumb wiped the salty drop off. “Well, I guess Anvil will have to settle for the little old me. With my best girl going places."

You gave him a strained smile before you carefully wiped your cheeks, just taking a moment to look at him. To try and read him.

Billy Russo was a goddamn ceiling. Plain white, cool and unattainable. In all of your time working for him, you have never seen this Hallmark version of him before. Which one was it?  

Oh wait, you guessed you knew. The happy-for-you friend.

“So where are you going?” Billy asked, his eyes empty. “Who snatched you away from m- Anvil?”

The stutter was so subtle you barely noticed. You were finally tired of reading into shit.

“Stark Industries. I’ll be their co-CEO”.

—

Before you left Anvil you promised yourself you’d get the deal with Stark Industries up and running. There was no one in the world you trusted more in terms of security than Billy.

(The fact that you couldn’t keep your heart safe from him didn’t really count, did it?)

As a matter of fact, Billy and you were going to shake hands with Anthony Stark on the deal on your last night of being Anvil’s CSO. It was happening in The Metropolitan Opera and required both Billy and yourself to dress for the occasion.   He promised to come pick you up at 6pm sharp; you were putting on the Jimmy Choo’s you’d bought a coulee months ago in Saks Fifth Avenue when you heard a low knock on your door.

Straightening up, you threw a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. You decided to go with a long Marchesa black velvet gown with a rather deep V-line, a pair of long diamond earrings and an elegant half-up half-down hairdo, soft curls in the front framing your face.

“I’m coming”, you yelled out, picking up your leather jacket (because why the hell not) and your purse from the kitchen counter. Sharply opening the entrance door, you realized moments later that you didn’t even take time to prepare yourself for seeing William Russo in a tux.

If you weren’t already half in love with him, the sight before your eyes would have sealed the deal.

God-fucking-damn, like he needed any help being unforgettable.

With a black jacket thrown on a crisp white shirt with a couple of buttons undone and the tie hanging loosely around his neck, Billy was here to make a statement, to leave a mark. His hair was coiffed back in his usual style; honest to God, he looked like he just stepped out of the Man of the Year special GQ edition…

Just when your thoughts were about to switch to the way you must have looked next to him, ridiculous in your simplicity, like you refused to make an effort…

…Your eyes met his.

And the way he looked at you was so intense, his big black eyes with galaxies in them probing into yours, his strong jaw slack. There was beauty and tragedy reflecting in those orbs, but only just for a second - just for a second, he looked at you the way he probably looked at the sky he could never reach. Just for a second, he looked at you the way that made your heart beat twice as fast, like the world could crumble all around him and he still would not have blinked.

Would not have taken his eyes off you.

“Wow, Y/N, you look… You look beautiful”, he finally said. “I just can't spot a part of you that beats the other.”

Something in your chest exploded silently.

“Thank you, Billy,” you smiled at him - a genuine and happy smile, because you felt on top of the world with his adoring eyes on you. “You’re quite a catch yourself”.

Before you could scold yourself for your choice of words, you stepped out of your apartment and locked the door behind you.

“Shall we?” Billy offered his hand to you, without hesitation it seemed.

“We shall”, you replied instantly, slowly sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow.

And, just like always, you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

—

The crowd in the opera was so posh, the looks all the women had been throwing you first made you question your choice of outfit. It’s after overhearing their conversations that you realized, the reason they stared daggers at you was the man that kept by your side no matter where you went.

Virginia and Anthony welcomed you at the buffet with sun-stained sincere smiles. After a short small talk, Anthony Stark informed you both that he had signed the contract earlier today, thus officially giving Anvil an exclusive security deal with Stark Industries. As of now, Anvil was the only company allowed on the Stark Industries’ premises in the quality of guards and protection officers.

The look Billy and you exchanged spoke volumes; while your eyes were sparkling with excitement though, screaming “we did it!!”, his bottomless black eyes were whispering “thanks to you”.

The four of you then shook hands and went through rounds of gratitude and appreciation; when a pleasant woman’s voice announced the imminent start of Onegin, inviting the guests to go to their seats. Virginia immediately took you hand, leading you straight into the Opera house, saying something about leaving men to finish their drinks. You threw Billy a laughing look over your shoulder, mouthing “come join me” before disappearing out of his sight.

“So on the scale of one to ten, how pissed at me are you, Mr. Russo?”

Billy turned his head sharply to a side, leaning on the high table, and spotted Anthony Stark himself, nursing a glass of whiskey. “For taking your queen away from you? Excuse the chess metaphor, but that woman”, Stark took a sip of his whiskey and savoured it before swallowing it down. “Is a goddamn queen.”

Billy chuckled, straightening up, digging his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“That, she is,” he whispered, his eyes still piercing the spot in the crowd where your smiling face was mere minutes ago.

—

When the opera ended, both Billy and you couldn’t be more relieved - because both of you hated it with passion.

Exchanging meaningful glances in the dark during the singers’ performances now and then, you had to bite your tongue in order to not just ask Billy if you could maybe sneak out. Russo proved to be more stoic than you, carefully covering your hand with his in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You didn’t look at him once after that, afraid to say or do something that would make him remove his hand.

How much more pathetic could you get?

When the performance was over, Billy led you out of the opera house without saying a word, his hand hugging carefully the small of your back.

His silence was unnerving. You didn’t know what to make of it. Should you have shaken his hand off back in the darkness of the concert hall? Or should you have caressed it with your thumb?

Your mind was spinning in circles by the time he opened the door for you and you slid into the front passenger seat of his Rolls goddamn Royce.

When he got in the car and gripped his steering wheel, you reached out and placed your hand on his whitening knuckles.

“Billy,” you spoke softly, barely audibly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” he whispered back, turning his head to a side to face you. His black eyes stared into yours, looking hypnotised and helpless. “Everything is fine.”

It didn’t take a degree in Psychology to see that he was lying. You could feel his gaze on you as you turned away from him, taking your hand away at the same time.

Billy started the car. The revving engine filled the silence, loaded with the unsaid words.

—

“…he then walked me to my door, we exchanged our goodbyes. And that was it,” you finished lightly, looking back at Karen.

Her eyes were red as she stared at you, unblinking.

“Unbelievable…” she whispered. “So you never told him?…” her lips barely moved.

You sighed.

“Have you ever felt like you’re potentially in love with someone? Like, you don’t actually love him, you know you don’t, but one day you realise that you could? You realise just how easy it would be for you to fall in love with him? With all the teasing and the banter, the play hitting each other, calling each other names, just…. You start to pick up on little things - like if you listen closely, in every shut up, there’s a barely-there ring of I could love you.”  You shifted on the floor a little, and Karen watched your memories transport you somewhere else again. While physically your were here, in your apartment - with your fluttering eye-lashes, uneven breathing and loaded expression - mentally, you were somewhere else.

“….You probably don’t notice it at first, but your body is drawn to him. Every accidental or absentminded touch…” you continued quietly. “And there’s that twinkle in his eyes when he looks at you and it messes you up, because - what’s going on with you? What the hell does it even mean? Are you imagining shit? You’re trying to make sense.”  

Karen didn’t interrupt, still staring at you as if she were seeing you for the first time

“I mean, he didn’t ask for any of it, you know?” you finally raised your foggy stare at Karen, as if searching for confirmation. “Maybe he just did something dumb one day, smiled at you or said something that seemed important and then all of the sudden you’re full on Looney Tunes, seeing stuff that isn’t there?”

Your words barely audible, you swallowed hard, before continuing.  “…I just kept looking at him with what ifs, and could haves, seeing all that goddamn potential. It’s so fucking twisted. Over-analyzing everything? Waiting for a sign?…” you chuckled bitterly all of the sudden. “…I was so fucking scared of reading too much into it, of crossing that line, because… It would be so easy!… Falling in love with him would have been so easy.”

Oh sweetheart, Karen’s eyes glowed with comfort as she reached out for your hand and squeezed it softly. But you already are in love with him.   

A loaded silence ripped through the air in your living room. The sound of an engine revving somewhere close squeezed its way through the slit of an opened window, and it seemed to break the trance.

Both Karen and you shuddered, and as you took in the realisation Karen’s eyes just bestowed upon you, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“It’s pretty late,” Karen spoke up, reading you like an open book. She knew it was her cue to leave the stage. You needed time to process. “Frank is in a bar nearby with Curtis, let me just give him a call, okay, sweetheart?” she gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze. “You know where to find me when you need me”.

“Yes”, you responded, blinking tiredly. “Thank you so much for coming, Karen. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that…”

“Shut the hell up,” the blonde advised, raising her eyebrows. “But honestly, Y/N, please call me once you… come to terms with things, okay?”

You nodded.

When Karen left, leaving the sweet and pleasant smell of her perfume behind, you closed the door behind her and turned around, leaning on the cold wood and metal with your eyes closed.

It’s been a month. This was supposed to pass by now. Billy was supposed to stop inviting himself into your dreams. You were supposed to heal.

You may have just realized you were in love with the man instead.

Letting out half a moan, half a groan, you peeled yourself from the door slowly, and brushed your hair back, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into bed.

After you at least cleaned up a bit and put out the Dyptique candles, that is.

As your eyes scanned your living room in an attempt to asses the size of the job at hand, you stopped mid-way, zeroing in on the box Jax gave you earlier in the evening. It rested silently on the kitchen table.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you made your way to the kitchen area. Grabbing the package, you turned it around, looking for any indication of the sender.

The package wasn’t even stamped.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you took a moment to grab a knife from one of the drawers, and carefully swished it between the two cardboard sheets.

Flipping over the envelop, you heard something fall out of it before you could actually see it. A small sheet of paper floated in the air before falling on the surface, partially covering whatever fell out of the package.

Your heart squeezed the second your brain identified the object, attached to a worn silver chain.

With trembling fingers, you slid two metal pieces from under the paper, covering your mouth.

Finding their home in the palm of your hand, Billy’s dog tags shimmered in the dim candlelight.

Squeezing them in between your fingers, you grabbed the paper with your free hand, your eyes staring at one single sentence scribbled on its surface.

“You took my heart with you”.

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