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letsperaltiago · 4 years ago

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supercut, i’ll be your favorite scene

Here it is: THE KITCHEN COUNTER FIC™️

Hope you guys like this pile of filth and feel free to share your 😌thoughts😌 in the tags or in my indbox/ask! I’d really love to hear them!! For context: takes place during Season 6, Episode 6: The Crime Scene!

Also do I need to make a disclaimer saying that I know Jake would never intentionally neglect Amy yada yada...? You know the drill.

Enjoy!

READ ON AO3 HERE (RATING E)

It had been going on for weeks now and by then it was safe to say that Amy was getting fed up with the situation. Ever since this mysterious, seemingly unsolvable case had started consuming Jake’s every thought, move and decision, Amy had felt somewhat neglected. Her husband was of course still, as always, sweet and caring but lately the case had completely overtaken his life and Jake spent more hours twisting and turning every clue than he spent being paying attention to Amy – or anything that wasn’t case files or clues, for that matter. It’s not that Amy needed attention, like some child screaming for affection, but she was worried for her husband’s health and, even if it felt silly to say, their intimate life.

Sure, they’d kiss good morning, goodbye and hello but especially the past few weeks Jake had more often than not fallen asleep atop of the case files at the dining table rather than in bed with her. Naturally Amy felt many things: impressed by her husband’s dedication and hard work but also worried and frustrated… in more than one way.

One night, another one of those spent alone in bed with Jake sitting at the dimly lit dining table, Amy was done being cool and reasonable; fact was that she missed her husband and she was shamelessly horny. It didn’t take long for her to make a decision: tonight, four drink-Amy, minus the drinks, was going to make an appearance.

“Hey, babe,” she spoke softly with a sweet, curious air, keeping her ulterior motives hidden, as she wandered into the living/dining-room in her pajamas and pink nightrobe. Her steps brought her up behind him and when he finally came within her reach, she made sure to slide her hands onto his shoulders with extra grace and tenderness, softly squeezing them to hopefully give him a taste of the tender touch he surely had a craving for though he currently was too stressed to act on “What are you doing?”

A beat of silence.

“Just working the case,” he mumbled tiredly sounding unaffected by her presence.

It was going to take more work than what she’d originally intended to put into it, but Amy was more than willing to put in the extra work; she did love a good challenge.

“I see that,” she added bending over to wrap her arms around his torso and rest her head on his shoulder as to get a closer look at his work… amongst other things. He was only wearing his flannel and boxers, perfect, she couldn’t help but think.

“You’re working so hard, babe,” she stated sweetly making sure it went straight into his ear. “Don’t you want to relax a bit?”

Her hands stroked his chest smoothly sliding over to play with the top buttons of his flannel, the same flannel he’d worn yesterday, she couldn’t help but notice. Alas this wasn’t the right moment to mention this.

“I can’t,” he flipped over a page to scribble down whatever information crossed his mind. “Not right now.”

“But that’s what you’ve been saying every day for the past few weeks now. Working yourself too hard won’t do you any good, you know… It can affect your way of thinking.”

A peck to his neck was basically Amy begging for his attention, for some kind of reaction to both her words and actions, but it never came.

“I’m fine, Amy. I just need to get this done.”

Scribbling and flipping of pages continued even so, as if she was air, and Amy, more than ever, was now growing awfully frustrated about the situation. Never before, at least while they’d been together, had Jake been blunt and cold towards her like this. Of course, she knew it wasn’t personal, and that it was all tied to the case and the promise he’d made to the victim’s mother, but still she couldn’t help but feel rejected. Rather than letting it get her down, it did the exact opposite and fueled her inner flame.

This problem was only not solved because it was demanding new, more bold, methods.

“But…” she swiftly as ever popped open a few buttons of his flannel “… don’t you think you would be able to think clearer…” she slid a hand down his now revealed chest before continuing to lure him in with sultry words and notes “…if you just let me help you feel good for a bit.”

Gosh, his skin felt so soft and so good, even after all these years, and oh how she just wanted to bite into it, scratch it red and raw with her fingers till both their hearts exploded.

“Amy, please. I love you but I need to keep working on this.”

Ouch. Her hand froze just above his belly button before removing itself. At least he said something kinda nice, she thought referring to the I love you, but this wasn’t enough. I love you wouldn’t have her writhing and screaming till climax.

First attempt was a lost cause but luckily, in a twisted way, Amy was furious and desperate. Vanishing back to their bedroom without another word, boiling with both lust and frustration, the woman proceeded to plan B; and plan she hadn’t really planned but quickly came up with. Said plan was hiding in a paper bag in the back of her closet and she’d actually planned on revealing it to him on Valentine’s day but enough was enough: now would have to be the right time.

Said plan started ten minutes later when she waltzed down the hall and back into the dining/living room wearing the same night robe as before. Only this time she was wearing something else underneath: something fiery red and shamelessly lacey.

“If you’re going to stay up all night drilling this…” Smooth, Amy. She planted a few candles on the table before him before lighting them, making sure to bend over just enough for the dip in her robe to reveal what was hiding underneath, “…then lets at least make it nice and cozy for you.”

“Thanks, babe, but no need to. Just go back to bed and I’ll join you there later.”

He didn’t look up, not as much as a quick glance and Amy could feel her blood beginning to simmer in her veins from wanting her husband’s attention and touch so badly. He couldn’t be serious? He couldn’t not notice how she was basically begging for him, could he?

With a firm grip, in one smooth motion, she pulled out the chair besides him and sat down before slowly untying the knot of her robe as her eyes watched him, attentive, hoping see his reaction when he saw the surprise she was presenting him.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she peeled apart the robe and let it slide off of her like ice cream melting on a sunny day. The fabric fell to the floor without a sound and there she sat, half-naked and more inviting than ever before in her life.

Not that she’d tried to be discreet before, but she was now so very obvious about her intention that he couldn’t possibly let it slide. And if she wasn’t obvious enough then the way the red silky fabric enhanced her skin’s warm undertones while the black, soft lace complimented the curves of her breasts and thighs certainly were. All things she’d considered upon picking out the set. The gleam from the candles danced in the reflection of the silky fabric and Amy Santiago was more than impossible to overlook.

“Why don’t you join me in bed… now?” She bit her lip smiling while her fingers played with a lock of her dark hair.

“Babe, I’m really trying to work here. Please.”

He almost sounded annoyed with her as he scrolled through his phone, looking for whatever could be more interesting than her.

Anti-climatic was not the word; this was way worse, Amy was sure of it.

How could he do this to her? There she sat, exposing herself, metaphorically and literally, and all he could think of was work! Maybe she should try to be reasonable, consider how he felt in his situation with this specific case, but enough was enough! She pushed herself out of the chair and stomped off to the kitchen. At first she didn’t know exactly why she headed to the kitchen… Perhaps she just wanted to get away from him but then again, she could’ve just gone to the bedroom. The doubt faded the minute she saw some unpacked groceries, more specific carrots, on the counter. Standing there in the kitchen in her very lingerie at 1 AM feeling like a sad, rejected porn star, she found her Plan C and felt that there was no other way. Amy Santiago did what she had to do: grabbed a bunch of carrots, picked out the tiniest, crummiest knife she could find, a cutting board and started chopping.

Noisily. Over and over again. Repetitive and loud.

“Ames, what are you doing?”

A reaction – good. She looked up, just barely, through her eyelashes only to be met by the sight of her husband still not caring enough to look at her properly.

“Felt like getting a snack, that’s all…”

She kept chopping, faster, harder and most importantly: louder. Carrot after carrot, way too many, but she figured they’d just eat it some other time. For now it was all about pestering him, getting on his nerves as he on hers. Ten seconds went by… Twenty… Thirty…

Chop. Chop. Chop.

“Amy-“

Another loud cut interrupted him. Amy didn’t even bother to cut into proper shapes or sizes. It was all about the sound.

Forty… Fifty…

“Amy, could you please stop!”

Finally.

She smiled to herself at the sound of his snarl, hearing the specific shade of Jake Peralta she’d waited for all night long. Her eyes were still glued to the carrots on the cutting board before her and, she knew, if she looked up, she’d see her husband stare right at her. God, she loved their open kitchen-dining room.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me?” She challenged hoping to make it the tipping point.

Then she looked up and as predicted, her husband was staring at her with a newly arrived squint and dark look in his eyes. It seemed as if his frustration had finally opened his eyes to what was really going on: his wife was in their kitchen almost completely naked, wearing only the skimpiest lingerie, and he’d been stupid enough to look past it. Their eyes met: his angry and storm full, hers playful and hungry, begging.

Right then and there a pin could’ve dropped to the ground and it would’ve made the ground shake and sound like an explosion. The tension was thicker than quicksand and it was only a matter of seconds, an unbearable staring contest, before the sound of Jake pushing back his chair cut through it like a knife.

He slowly walked, as if he was planning his every step, around the counter dividing the dining area and kitchen area, and Amy could feel herself beam with excitement at the muffled sound of his steps.

“What did you just say?” Jake’s voice was low, a few tones deeper than usual, something he only did when he was angry or during sexy timez. “Think twice before answering me.”

His hands slowly slid onto her almost naked hips feeling the arousing sensation of the lace beneath his fingers. She was trapped between him and the counter before her, on purpose, she could tell and God, she loved him like this. After years of being together it was no secret to either of them that Amy, as much as she enjoyed being dominant and in charge, loved playing the play of the submissive one, the one getting told what to do. Something, if put in the right mindset, her husband handled very well. Key word: handled. Tonight, she needed to be handled. By him… With care? No, they were way beyond stage. Amy was buzzing with impatience. This needed to be properly balanced with the nature of the moment; a tempered Jake who would not put up with being told what to do. Not tonight.

“I didn’t say-“ her breath hitched interrupting herself when she felt him lean his body against her from behind, leaving no room behind him and her, and her and the counter, before letting his right hand slide along the top hem of her panties. “I didn’t say anything. I was just c-cutting-“

His index finger tugged on the elastic hem.

“Cutting carrots,” she breathed out nervousl and he picked up on it.

“Is this cool? Safe word?” he quickly added.

“It’s perfect and ‘Manhattan’ as usual.”

“Okay good,” he pecked the shell of her ear as a sign of approval before picking up where they left off.

“Hmm,” he hummed removing his finger knowing it’d disappoint her. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

“Oh,” she whimpered in reaction to his words being breathed against her sensitive neck. While being distracted by his breathy taunts Amy had completely failed to notice the hand sliding down the right leg of her panty. Here, when down low enough, his index finger had crooked itself around the center section of the garment to pull it to the side and reveal her forlorn womanhood.

Tonight wasn’t going to be a long night of slow fucking, they both knew, but Amy was still surprised when she almost right away felt two fingers part her folds, automatically coaxing her into submission.

“I have barely touched you…” he spoke with a voice so soft and in no way is a match to the sinful activity happening further down her body, “…and you’re already this wet.”

No words, only sounds of strain and pleasure, were to come from Amy. Jake was in charge now and he would make the calls tonight. All she could do was wait and obey.

“You’ve been such an annoying little pest all night and I thought it was just because you were bored, when in reality- “

“Jake,” escaped her in the form of a breathy declaration, in a moment of weakness in reaction to his finger’s Godsent work, interrupting him and this usually wasn’t well received, not in a scene like the one they found themselves caught up in, but Jake was too pleased with the display of his effectiveness to reprimand her. Instead, he just smiled to himself and made sure to stroke the exact same spot over and over again feeling her get weak in her knees.

“When in reality you just, so desperately, need to be fucked.”

To prove his point, he leaned a bit more of his weight onto her forcing her midriff up against the counter. His fingers still had room to work thus moving with more and more ferocity.

“Am I right, Amy?”

Eyes closed, mouth agape and head bent back to rest against his shoulder, it was safe to say that Amy was in another world. Yes, she heard the loud rumbling that was the sound of his voice, but his fingers were louder than anything else happening at that moment. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had her trapped she would’ve been grinding for more, used her body to get a better feel of his touch. Alas she’d have to earn it some other way.

“Amy,” he scolded bringing her attention back to his demands. “Tell me. Am I right?”

His hand not stroking her heat slowly started playing with the upper edges of her panties, pushing them down her curves in the process.

“Y-yes,” came out in a voice so breathy that the word was barely audible, and Jake could only just hear it because he stood as close to her as he did.

“Thought so,” he bluntly approved her answer and removed his fingers from her heat to allow himself to push the panties down entirely, letting them to fall off of her and onto the cold kitchen floor. Amy could feel the bulge in his boxers pressed against her now bare ass and it killed her to not be able to grind against it, to feel it properly.

“So…” he used his now wet fingers, glistening with her juices, making sure to trail them across her skin, to slowly push her hair to the side and leave him room to kiss the back of her neck. “Now that you’ve so selfishly interrupted me and the important work I was doing, just because you just can’t behave and wait to get fucked…”

Amy’s voice hitched, loudly even, in reaction to his words. Dirty talk had definitely moved up a few spots on her favorites list when her and Jake got together; he was so good at it and it made her want to play along.

“… there are two ways things can go now: either you pull yourself together like a good girl, let me get back to work and wait in bed…”

Amy did not like the sound of that. Nonetheless she bit her tongue and instead of fighting him she focused on the soft feeling of her husband’s breath dancing against her sensitive skin as his hands stroked her stomach, slowly inching themselves upwards towards her breasts.

“… or I give you what you need. Right here, right now.”

There was a moment of silence where Amy considered whether she should actually answer or let him make a choice for her. Did he want her to speak up or was it a trap?

“Tell me, Amy,” he scowled at the exact same moment as his hands reached her chest and latched themselves onto her still lace-clad breasts. “Tell me what you need. I’m not gonna ask again.”

“N-now, p-please” her stutters were weak, but they were there and she could only hope it was enough. They held so much desperation and honesty.

Meanwhile Jake feverously caressed her breasts, pinching her nipples through the thin, lacy material. Then, quickly running out of patience, he basically ripped the straps and cups down as to finally gain full access to this part of her he loved so much.

“Okay,” he pecked the back of her neck. “Can’t believe you’re so desperate that I get to fuck you right here on the counter.”

Jake definitely sounded smug, pleased with the situation, and Amy would’ve been be lying if she’d said she didn’t feel the same way… even though she couldn’t say it. They’d had sexcapades in the kitchen before but never like this and Amy was filled to the brim with excitement.

“God, I wanna see you on your knees with your lips stretched around me so bad but you’re just so ready for me, Ames… It’s too good to put off for much longer. Can you feel how ready I am for you?”

In case she hadn’t already noticed his hard on pressed against her bare ass Jake grinded into her and Amy very quicky came to hate his boxers even more, wishing she could just rip them off of him, and definitely let out a whimper at the needed touch. The full control he had over her was both everything she wanted and everything she dreaded; all she could do was hope that he’d fulfill her wishes for her.

Finally, as if a shooting had crossed the sky and heard her wishes, she felt one of his hands move away from her breast and relocate to push down the cursed material that kept her from being able to feel him properly. An outline trapped behind fabric was always promising but nothing could ever beat the feeling of Jake’s freed length.

“So ready…” he mumbled under his breath as he, impressively so, used one hand to fiddle open the clasp of her bra while the other was busy stroking his length. Given their current position there were things he had to take care of himself – many things, apparently. With both of his hands being busy paying attention to something that wasn’t her, Amy honestly wasn’t too pleased with the situation even though she knew it would pay off; she could already imagine, almost feel, the cool surface of their marbled countertop pressed against her torso causing goosebumps to rise across her entire body.

Thud. Finally, the strain around her chest disappeared as her bra joined the rest of their (limited) garments on the kitchen floor, soon to be forgotten by both Jake and Amy. Jake did still have his flannel on, barely hanging on by one closed button, but the parts of them that mattered were free and ready for tonight’s purpose.

She felt him take a tiny step back, away from her, and she was just about to let out a whine when suddenly her entire body quaked in response to his right hand giving her ass a firm squeeze before allowing it to run all the way up her spine, slowly and with great intentions in mind.

“Bend over.”

If only Amy could tell herself from ten years ago that she would end up marrying a man whose words could make her body and world tremble… The perfect two words, said so bluntly, demanding, had her convinced the second they fell from his lips.

She obeyed, with his hand on her back guiding her forwards, and soon she found herself looking out at their living/dining room from her new position: bent over their kitchen counter.

Jake’s hand continued its journey up her back, all the way up to her shoulder where he gave it a tiny affectionate squeeze before leaning down and pecking the back of her neck.

“Okay, babe?”

“Y-yes, perfect,” she whimpered, impatient, struggling to retain her recklessness.

“You look so good.”

The unequivocal sound of his palm patting her full ass cheek echoed in the kitchen. Even when trying to convey the need to ask for more into grabbing onto the counter, to a point where her knuckles turned white, holding back a whimper was out of her hands.

“Soon, babe. I just can’t get over how fucking good you look bent over like this...”

Another pat, a strike more appropriately so, to her other ass cheek let Amy know that he was definitely testing her patience and willingness to stay silent. He loved the frustration he knew she was battling with inside; mainly because he knew she’d never break because Amy Santiago’s desire to please and obey was stronger than the feeling of despair and need.

“… Bent over and desperate for me to touch you.”

Jake’s low, rumbling voice, the way an almost animalistic side of him shone through his words, was enough to keep Amy going. Although she did quickly take a preference upon feeling a sudden overwhelming burst of warmth and stimulus shoot through her when his fingers switched their attention from her ass to her folds, slowly running two fingers back and forth through them as to assemble as much moisture as possible.

Pleased with himself at the sound of a high-pitched and dragged out Oh there was no stopping him. Slowly torturing them both, mostly her, he kept working her open with his fingers as small moans and squeals dropped from her lips. His other hand kept a firm hold of her hip. Amy was off in another world, trembling at the feeling of his fingers finally doing to her what she’d been craving for for so long now. Her hands slowly turned sore from holding on so tightly to the counter under her, but she didn’t care. Everything felt so good and she’d die if it were to stop if she disobeyed or accidentally disregarded Jake’s wishes and plans.

All of the sudden, ready to whine at the loss of his fingers but quickly interrupted, Amy felt a strong hold of her hips from both of his hands and then, even better, herself being stretched around her husband’s cock. To hell with the consequences, Amy let out the loudest “quiet” moan she dared. The sensation washing over her was too much, too good, to keep quiet about however it helped that she expressed herself cheek pressed down into the cool kitchen counter.

“Yes,” Jake hissed pushing himself all the way in. “Fuck, you’re the best thing, babe.”

She felt a hand, once again, run up the length of her back as he shuffled on the spot to adjust himself inside of her. The stretch ceased for a brief second but immediately came back, this time for good, repeating itself in a steady pattern that had the entire front of Amy’s body, from her knees hitting the lower kitchen cupboards to the face rubbing up against the cool marble, following the given rhythm. The sound of their bodies slapping together, Amy’s skin drumming against their counter to the beat of his repetitive thrusting as well, came together like an obscene symphony. Only one thing was missing, and he knew why: she was waiting for permission like the good girl she was.

Bending over her so far that his chest ran parallel with her back, almost skin against skin, Jake made a makeshift ponytail with his wife’s soft, dark hair and, keeping in mind to stay careful, forced Amy’s head off the counter and back. Amy hissed, the pain and pleasure coming together, and she was finally in the perfect position for him to whisper into her ear.

“I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.”

The observation, rather the implicit demand, went straight to her already extensive drive and with her head held up by his hand in her hair, Amy allowed her sounds of pleasure to fall freely from her lips and accompany the repetitive sound their body’s coming together, over and over, skin to skin, skin to wood, skin to stone.

“Oh- oh- ohmygod yes,” came tumbling out of her like the world was collapsing inside of her and having straightened back up, still with a hold of Amy’s hair, Jake could only admire the scene before him as he felt the stressful case and immense pressure melting away. After this he would definitely have to apologize for being so absent lately but for now, they probably needed this more than anything else.

“Y-yes, baby. Feel so good around me.”

Every word, every sound, every move was punctuated by a thrust, one after the othert, speed and force slowly increasing as a momentum built and both parties fell into and drowned in an endless pool of longing and passion.

“Was this what you wanted when you decided you were going to act like a fucking brat?”

A tug on the makeshift ponytail demanded that Amy listen even though she knew he might not necessarily want an answer from her - at least not a vocal one.

“Was is worth it? Tell me.”

Another tug on her hair, definitely demanding an answer, and his fingers digging into her fleshy hips earned him a small cry of submission that almost had him coming right there on the spot. Alas he stayed focused and steady. He wasn’t ready to let go yet, and neither was she. Just the way he wanted it and the way she loved it.

“Y-yes,” she just barely managed to stutter between thrusts, too far gone to make out a longer sentence, even though she was dying to tell him just how good he made her feel and how she’d missed him inside of her.

“Can’t believe all it takes to shut you up is a good fuck,” he accused her, but she could tell he was not so secretly loving it, simply saying it, making it sound filthy, because he had needed it just as badly as her. “So desperate you’ll take it anywhere…”

He trailed off, out of breath from snapping his hips back and forth into her with hefty momentum that had both his and her legs shaking. Although, he knew, he wasn’t quite done with her yet. There might’ve been beads of sweat running down her arched back, red marks on her arms from the rubbing of the counter and beginning knots where he held onto her hair, but it couldn’t be over yet.

Using the last surge of energy, he had left in him, Jake decided to let go of his wife’s hair and used the now freed hand to give her ass one last spank, one whose loud snap and following whine bounced off the kitchen walls. Besides that, nothing was said and Jake was pleased.

“No complaining, huh? You just know that you always look so much better when I mark you up.”

It was hard to tell since her entire body jerked every time he reentered her however Jake was sure: she nodded. He stroked the fresh redness of her ass before hunching over her still very much bent over figure. The new curve of his body to ran along hers, his chest to his back, and gave him the opportunity to take a hold of her hands where they were still clinging onto the kitchen counter’s edge for dear life. Now he could help his thrusts by pulling into her.

“I’m so close, Ames. So fucking close.”

He readjusted as to be able to whisper directly into her ear.

“You look so good bent over like this… All for me…”

“O-only for you,” she managed to stutter.

“But I want to be able to see your face when you cum.. So hard like never before,” he marked his point by gathering some extra force to thrust just a bit deeper and the small scream it derived was worth it. Although he had already (kind of) warned her Amy felt like dying the second he so brutally pulled out of her completely. It was all soon forgotten though; the second he pulled her back up straight, spun her around and lifted her, almost entirely by himself, up to sit on the counter. Before Amy could fully comprehend what was happening, he had her face cupped in his hand and their eyes locked.

Amy could’ve sworn what he did and said next was the sexiest thing he’d ever done to her: without letting go of her face, neither her eyes, he used his free hand to push her thighs apart and around him.

“Now don’t you dare look away.”

Without further explanation he grabbed his cock and guided it back into her, once more appeasing her with the feeling of being filled to the brim by him. It was far from as easy or smooth as their previous position, but they fell back into a enjoyable pattern of movements. Before they knew it Amy was back to whimpering at every thrust, her magic spot struck over and over again. She was shrieking her pleas as he kept their eyes locked and there was no escaping it. The hand holding her face snuck a thumb across her dry lips, furthermore, causing them to part and welcome his finger past the edge and into the mouth he was dying to kiss.

“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look like this?” he praised enjoying the wet sensation around his thumb and the muffled effect on her whimpers it had before removing his hand, to her disappointment, only to then please when he put it to better use down between her legs. “And you’re going to look even hotter when you fall apart around me, understood?”

“Y-yes,” she croaked with eyes slowly beginning to flutter closed. “I- I’m so close, baby.”

“Me too,” he breathed heavily as he saw her eyes shut as his fingers played with her clit, wishing and yearning to take her where they both wanted to be. “Now look at me,” he demanded using his free hand to once again grab her jaw and reposition her face as to be sure she was looking directly into his eyes as he felt himself come closer to his climax.

He picked up the pace, the slaps of their skin becoming louder, and Amy immediately reacted by grinding harder onto both his cock and fingers meanwhile her mouth let every deep, sinful emotion pour out of her as a messy ode to her own climax.

“R-right there, ugh- yes! Faster, harder-“

“I’m gonna cum, babe. Right now,” he exclaimed.

“Y- yes, inside of me. Keep going,” she begged afraid that his climax would interrupt God’s work he was doing on her.

“Ye-“ he was cut off by his own climax which caused his head to shoot back and a groan from the deep of his gut. Although Amy had nothing to fear: even through his climax Jake kept up his pace, mostly with his fingers, and not too long after he had Amy writhing and gasping for on the counter.

“Come for me, babe. All over me.”

He was slowly coming down from his own climax and passionately coaxed his unravelling wife through their shared euphoria, listening and staring into her eyes as she crumbled around him.

After a few moments of aftershock in the shape of shuttering, gasping and whimpering, the room fell silent and time seemed to stand still. By then Amy had slumped forward, completely drained, leaning her head onto his shoulder meanwhile the cool night temperature of the room started to get to her. Small goosebumps danced all over her body.

For a bit they just let it be, let the moment stand on its own, giving Jake the time to run his hands all over his wife’s shaky, beautiful body that he loved oh so much.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so absent lately. I hope you know that it has nothing to do with you.”

Although it was a statement and a fact rather than a question, Jake definitely wanted and needed to know if she knew that it was so.

“I know.”

He could feel and hear her smile because that’s how stupid well he knew her.

“Good. Still want to say I’m sorry though,” he smiled into the top of her head before pecking it and getting a small taste of the sweat they’d both built up. “…And I promise that I won’t let work control me like this again.”

Silence. A beat.

“I really appreciate you saying that. Thank you…”

She turned her head so that she could kiss his lips and, just an hour ago, Amy might’ve thought he was the most annoying, stubborn human on earth and maybe he was… But now she was also once again sure of the fact that no one could or ever would love her like her husband does.

#I CANT BELIEVE I WROTE THIS #who am i even...#anyways here we finally gooo #jake x amy #jake and amy #peraltiago #brooklyn nine-nine #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #smut #jake peralta #amy santiago #fic #fanfiction #fanfic #peraltiago smut #peralta #Santiago

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

- Chapter 7 -

Meng Yao ended up not writing back to Lan Xichen at all, which turned out to be for the best – Madame Lan died of her illness a little later in the year, destroying Lan Xichen’s tentative proposals for a visit that they would have had to find a way to tactfully refuse anyway, and Meng Yao was able to write that letter with a great deal more sincerity and shared pain than he might have otherwise.

Lao Nie did not last the full year that Nie Mingjue had predicted they’d need – the initial qi deviation only led to more deviations down the road, as his unchecked rage twisted his mind further and further away from reality and he tried to cultivate with a saber that no longer existed; within four months he was no longer recognizable as the man he had once been, and within six he was dead.

It was not a good death.

Meng Yao had started hoping for Lao Nie to die by midway the second month, when it was clear that his condition was getting worse, not better, and that his madness was just a hair short of what it needed to be to remove him as unsuited for his position – he could stand, walk, talk, and make decisions (bad ones), and Meng Yao sometimes cursed whichever ancestor had schemed unsuccessfully to steal the sect leader’s seat through trickery because they’d made it so much harder for everyone else – but he hadn’t wanted it to happen the way it had.

For all that he was glad that Lao Nie was finally gone, six months after he’d actually died alongside his beloved Jiwei, Meng Yao would never have wanted Nie Mingjue to have to…no, better to say that he wouldn’t have wanted for Lao Nie to use his son as an instrument of his own destruction.

Nie Mingjue had been bearing up as well as could be imagined – better, even, through sheer will and the grit and stubbornness that the Nie clan had in spades – but that had been a step too far; he withdrew somewhere deep inside of himself, his eyes vacant and dead, and slept for three days straight. For a little while, Meng Yao had thought that he had also succumbed to a qi deviation, panic roiling under his skin as he had to try to keep it quiet, with Nie Huaisang helping as much as a small child like him could, but in the end Nie Mingjue woke up in time for the investiture ceremony making him sect leader.

They probably should have found some time to talk about it – talk about everything, to lance the boil of their suffering so that it didn’t fester in their hearts – except before Meng Yao could figure out what needed to be said, they were both pulled away by sudden spate of the skirmishes on the border because of course Wen Ruohan would use the opportunity of the sect leader’s death to try to steal away some of their territory.

They didn’t let him.

Nie Mingjue’s rage was something worth seeing, and Meng Yao’s own was very nearly as great, even if he expressed it through coldness rather than heat – even if he was considered too young to be sent out to the front lines, since unlike Nie Mingjue he was not pretending to be three years older than he really was, even if he could only help govern the sect at home in Nie Mingjue’s absence.

It was that coldness that let him cut through the politics that always followed the initiation of a new sect leader, especially a new one that foolish people from the outside might think would be susceptible to influence, might be naïve enough to allow himself to be used as a method for climbing into power.

It was that coldness that his mother saw, when she came to him with her own suggestions – the would-be influencers soon found that Nie Mingjue was born to be a righteous general, unyielding and stubborn, and that Meng Yao was coldblooded as a serpent, unmoved by their appeals, and so had come to Meng Shi with flattery and the promise of all sorts of things if only she would pass along a simple harmless message for them – and which made her words freeze in her throat long enough for Sisi to catch up with her and take her away, scolding her all the while for being too easily swayed.

It was that coldness that allowed him to continue to exchange secret letters with Wen Ruohan, stupid ones that claimed that his elder brother had gone mad to accuse another sect leader the way he had – treasonous letters, of the sort that Wen Ruohan would be able to use as blackmail if only Meng Yao wasn’t quite so sure that Nie Mingjue would listen when he explained why he was doing what he did.

If he explained. It didn’t seem necessary to burden Nie Mingjue with the knowledge of what Meng Yao was doing, not yet – not when he was already bearing so many other burdens.

Nie Huaisang had previously been uninterested in all things military, thinking of it as nothing more than more of the saber work that he hated, but Meng Yao knew that couldn’t be permitted to last, now that he was the proper heir, and so he took him in hand.

He took him to the meeting room, with all the maps and plans, and told it to him the way it needed to be told: “This stone represents twenty Wen retainers, and they’re all dead now,” he said, pointing to one of the silver pieces. “And that one’s ten Wen disciples, and they’re dead too – your brother killed them all by himself, taking them by surprise. They were all cut up into pieces, and he didn’t get a mark on him.”

“Why are you talking about the dead?” Nie Mingjue – who had in fact gotten several nasty cuts as a result of that fight, but facts weren’t relevant when weaving legends were for small children to learn viciousness from – asked, back from the frontline to gather supplies and set to go out again the next morning, rolling his eyes at them both. “It’s the living that matter.”

“I agree,” Meng Yao said placidly. “It’s the living we have to deal with. Mark da-ge’s words well, Huaisang. You always have to deal with the living, they’re far more troublesome.”

But oh, how nice it was to see your enemies dead!

(Nie Mingjue didn’t understand – but Nie Huaisang did.)

It took three solid months to finally chase out the last would-be incursion, and right around that time Lan Xichen finally got his way about coming for a visit the way he’d been insisted he be allowed to do for the entire time since Lao Nie’s death and Nie Mingjue’s confirmation as sect leader was announced.

“I don’t have time for guests,” Nie Mingjue said shortly when he found out that Meng Yao had approved Lan Xichen’s request behind his back. “Meng Yao, you deal with him; he’s here to see you, anyway.”

“Da-ge says that he needs to be kidnapped away from work,” Nie Huaisang solemnly told Lan Xichen, his beloved pretty gege, later that day, walking hand-in-hand with him through the gardens. “Or else he’ll never get a break.”

“Oh, your da-ge said that, did he,” Lan Xichen said, his eyes dancing. “Not your er-ge?”

“Well…”

“Huaisang, we’ve discussed this,” Meng Yao told him. “A good liar doesn’t back down at the first challenge. Don’t admit anything until you’re really cornered – or have a good excuse for why you lied.”

Lan Xichen laughed, but Nie Huaisang nodded seriously.

Meng Yao was pleased to see Lan Xichen, of course, but he had had ulterior motives: he had thought of a handful of schemes to use Lan Xichen to lure Nie Mingjue out of the sect leader’s office. It wasn’t a good place for him to be after everything that happened there – there were still bloodstains on the floor, ones that Meng Yao had caught Nie Mingjue staring dully at more often than he’d really like – and even though Meng Yao had already set up an alternative to use while they finished cleaning and redecorating, Nie Mingjue continuously claimed to be too busy to relocate even temporarily.

In the end, all his schemes turned out to be unnecessary because by the time they got back Nie Mingjue was out in the training yard for the first time in weeks, showing a solemn Lan Wangji how to jump over a saber sweep to the legs in what was mostly just an elaborate game of bunny-hops.

Lan Xichen abruptly sat down.

Right in the middle of the walkway, with dust getting all over his otherwise pristine robes, no less. Meng Yao sent Nie Huaisang back inside before squatting down next to him. “First time in a while?”

“Wangji wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t eat; he’s barely moved since our mother died,” Lan Xichen said, staring at the training field. His eyes were wet. “He’d obey if we told him to do something, but he kept sneaking out of the house to go wait by our mother’s door, no matter how many times we told him…I only brought him with me because I thought it might do him good to be somewhere new, rather than somewhere where he couldn’t help but think of her.”

Meng Yao thought about the sect leader’s office, which if Nie Huaisang was doing his job was at that very moment being moved to its new temporary home and the old one locked to all who might try to come and insist on being let in. Even if they were the new sect leader.

“I know what you mean,” he said, and smiled wryly. “But da-ge has a way about him, doesn’t he?”

By this Meng Yao meant that Nie Mingjue had charisma in spades – he was a natural leader, causing men to instinctively listen to him despite his age, though anyway that ridiculous height of his meant that he was already as tall as a grown man and was often perceived as one even by those who knew better. No matter how soft he was inside, how torn or broken, Nie Mingjue could inspire devotion, even fascination, from others in a way few others could.

Even Meng Yao with his silver tongue couldn’t compare: he knew how to cater to people, to calm and misdirect them, to lull them into a false sense of security so that he could sneak his objectives out of them, but Nie Mingjue could ask a man to fly to the moon and they’d seriously consider giving it a try.

He was something very precious.

“Yes,” Lan Xichen said, and he sounded almost as if he were realizing that fact for the first time. “He really does.”

A month later, Nie Mingjue had to attend his first Discussion Conference as sect leader.

At least it was situated at the nice neutral Jiang sect, Meng Yao thought, but he worried the entire time Nie Mingjue was gone. It wasn’t that he wasn’t allowed to go, if he wanted, but Meng Yao knew that having him back home – safe, keeping an eye on the Unclean Realm and Nie Huaisang both – would be infinitely more helpful in keeping Nie Mingjue from stabbing someone than his advice would be.

It still killed him to do it.

To think of Nie Mingjue alone, just him and his father’s murderer and three men that didn’t care to trouble themselves enough to help him get vengeance, for hours and hours and hours –

But Meng Yao knew what he had to do.

So he waited and paced and worked himself hard enough that Nie Huaisang started using some of their well-established tricks to lure Nie Mingjue from his office on him, which was really a sign of doing too much, and in the end the Nie sect delegation came home safe and unharmed and even successful: Nie Mingjue hadn’t stabbed anyone (the low, low bar they’d set for a success), hadn’t started any fights either physical or verbal (an even higher bar), and had even managed to get the reasonable concessions they’d been hoping to push through in the negotiations regarding sect matters after all the speeches and festivities were done (a stunning achievement).

Nie Mingjue didn’t seem as happy about it as Meng Yao would have expected.

“Meng Yao,” Nie Mingjue said when Nie Huaisang was safely tucked away into bed; he must have been waiting. “A word.”

“Of course,” Meng Yao said, but still led him back to his bedroom to prepare to sleep. They could talk business as well there as they could in Nie Mingjue’s office, and this way he wouldn’t be tempted to do just a little bit more, A-Yao, just the urgent things as if there weren’t enough urgent things to drown a man in. “What happened, da-ge?”

“I received an unusual offer,” Nie Mingjue said, and the way he said it meant that Meng Yao wasn’t going to like it. “From Wen Ruohan.”

Meng Yao already didn’t like it.

“He – expressed sympathy,” oh, no, Meng Yao hated it, “and suggested that he might be willing to withdraw his claim from the western river so that we could rely on its tolls in our time of need –”

“He’s willing to withdraw his soldiers?” Meng Yao asked, honestly surprised. “His made-up claim to the river is the only thing allowing him to claim that he’s entitled to put Wen sect retainers in the sects there; if he withdraws them, they’ll all come rushing back to us to swear allegiance, and our western border would be much more secure, even if he reneges on his word later and tries to come back.”

And that, of course, meant –

“For him to put that on the trading table, he must have had an extremely offensive request,” Meng Yao said. “What was it? Half our men put down their sabers and Nie Huaisang’s head on a pike for having defeated Wen Chao in the junior calligraphy competition last year?”

That should have gotten a laugh out of Nie Mingjue, but instead he just sat down on the bed, his shoulders hunched up by his ears. “No,” he said. “He didn’t want anything from – from the sect.”

Meng Yao wasn’t stupid, and for a moment there his vision tinted red, Chiwen whispering sweet words of death in his ear: death to evil, death to those that threatened his loved ones, death to those that stood in his way.

Death to Wen Ruohan in specific.

“Da-ge,” he said, and for a moment his teeth gritted together before instinct took over and his face smoothed into a neutral expression, a faint gentle smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You must be joking.”

Nie Mingjue’s shoulders somehow, impossibly, hunched even further up, as if he was the one who should be embarrassed by Wen Ruohan’s suggestion. “He propositioned me,” he confirmed, entirely unnecessarily.

“He tried to buy you, you mean,” Meng Yao said, and Nie Mingjue shrugged. Meng Yao’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not considering it, are you?”

“You said yourself it was a good deal,” Nie Mingjue said with a hint of stubbornness. “A shichen of discomfort and we could protect the western border for a generation, and if we can do that, we’ll have time to bulk up the rest of our defenses –”

“You cannot be serious. He killed your father!”

Nie Mingjue flinched.

“I know,” he said quietly. “But that’s my personal pain, not the sect’s, and I’m sect leader now, aren’t I? I need to do what’s good for the sect.”

“Okay,” Meng Yao said. “Fine. Then I’ll assassinate Jiang Fengmian’s son at the next Discussion Conference.”

“What?”

“I’ll use a sword,” Meng Yao said. “You know how good I am at memorizing techniques; I’ve already gotten some moves from the Wen and Jin sects down pat, and no one will suspect a Nie if I’m not using a saber. In the chaos as they try to figure out who did it and what to do about it, we’ll be able to steal all sorts of benefits from the three of them. It’d be very good for the sect.”

“Meng Yao, don’t even joke about that.”

“Who said I’m joking?” Meng Yao said with a shrug. “You said it yourself – you’re a sect leader now. Why should your personal principles stand in the way of the sect’s advantage?”

“Without principles, there is no sect,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “Without principles, we may as well not be men; we would be beasts on two legs, a desecration of flesh, a waste of spirit…”

Meng Yao crossed his arms and waited.

“…and selling anybody, even myself, in order to take advantage Wen Ruohan’s offer would be a violation of my principles, too,” Nie Mingjue concluded. “I take your point.”

“Good.”

They sat in silence for a long moment.

“Still,” Nie Mingjue said thoughtfully, and Meng Yao turned to stare at him incredulously, “it’s kind of nice to know that I’d be really well paid for it, right? Your mother would be proud of me.”

“I’m going to strangle you,” Meng Yao said, but he was already starting to smile. Only Nie Mingjue would dare to be that tactless just to amuse – only Nie Mingjue would dream of making a joke about himself like that, with the same black humor Meng Yao and Meng Shi enjoyed most. “And you’re going to deserve it.”

“Probably,” Nie Mingjue agreed, and he was smiling back, and for a moment it felt like they weren’t sect leader and advisor any longer – just brothers, just friends.

“Yeah? I’m also going to tickle you.”

“Don’t you dare, I have a reputation to maintain –”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #meng yao #jin guangyao #lan xichen #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #three gates

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maghrib-genova · 3 years ago

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Hello, forgive my anon, I have no Tumblr. I was looking for reactions to Instinct and saw yours. I liked so many of your points. I also wanted to ask if you thought Nicoline had some predatory behaviors, her trip to the fast food place, her being the therapist, Idris had no agency as a inmate, following him. To me it seemed this movie was far more complicated than Nicoline's survivor journey. And wasn't Idris a survivor too? I would love to hear your feedback if you feel so inclined.

Hello!!

No worries! (I will try to answer eventhough I think I might have forgotten some details about this movie and trying not to repeat myself much of what I have written in my review of this movie in the post that you have seen☺️).

I understand why you feel this way about Nicoline, when I watched this movie, I also keep having doubt toward her. What if she was just paranoid and have ulterior motive, we become like her colleagues, we didn't believe what she was saying right away.

Her colleagues have the datas and they have been following what Idris was doing 24/7 and he did look like he was a changed man already, but Nicoline has something the others didn't have, she has her own "instinct" because she can sense that Idris as the kind of predator that will strike again, not because she is a predator herself but because she has been around one for so long.

Also I think "predatory" word is not really accurate to describe Nicoline, unlike Idris who knows that he has the charm and use it to his advantage to lure his victim like the way he acted around the other younger therapist, that was quite manipulative, he likes the attention, and I bet if they weren't in the facility with many securities around, he might do something to her while Nicoline didn't act the same when given the attention.

When one of her colleagues shows interest in her, she didn't trick him into doing something he didn't want to do, but I think she did unintentionally reveal her true desire toward him when she was in her drunken state.

It means she does has a peculiar taste when in comes to sexual activities but it didn't make her a bad person, the fact when that man make a move the next morning, Nicoline didn't even feel comfortable to be touched by him anymore.

She didn't approach anyone the way he does with Idris. She didn't have the tendency to manipulate people. I think she instead was really vulnerable like her inability to stay away from her abuser/her own mom.

I think at some point she does crave the danger that Idris has. She wants to be treated in certain way because it gives her thrill eventhough I think she didn't actually like the idea of having that kind of urge because she feels that desire was bad. But actually this kind of desire can be explore in safe environments with the right partners that have good communication, safe bdsm play I think. ( and also Nicoline herself need a therapy and she needs to open up and end the circle of abuse, she needs to get away from her mom so she can be her own person devoid of her mom influence about her self worth. I feel so bad for her seriously. Some part she looks like a child trapped in a adult woman body.)

And about Nicoline going to the fast food place, I think it was just her way to try to confirm the truth of what Idris was saying to her, later we know it was all lie, so It was right for her to check about it in the first place.

And her being the therapist upperhand and use it against Idris I think it was just her way to do her job (The therapist who does take advantage in manipulating his patient is Hannibal lecter. That's an example of someoneone who use their profession to make his patient question himself even more 😅 not treating him in anyway and it even pushes will at some point to bad place). In Nicoline's case it gives her a more leverage to see the truth inside Idris's head, because it was her job to understand her patient without doubt.

When she asked a provocative question that makes Idris lost his temper in the first time in a couple of years after trying to appear normal in front of other therapists. Nicoline is clever and knows what button to push. It was just unfortunate for her to really desire the appeal Idris has in the process.

And when she followed him to that beach, I think she was both curious to see what happened in her own twisted desire and also trying to reveal Idris true color.

Nicoline will totally look like the bad person in this story if Idris was actually a different kind of man, not a manipulative sexual predator.

He does have something Nicoline want but with consent and some boundary. when Nicoline told him no in her appartment, Idris should have stop but he didn't but instead he closed all the window shields and put her in position of no where else to escape, she has no choice there anymore.

The story might look complicated at first because it seems like Nicoline was the one who was trying to manipulate Idris into falling to her trap by keep poking the beast and in the process it seems like she got what she deserved. But Idris has to be accounted like human and he should be able to control his urge because this is no jungle if he wanted to get back into a society where everyone might be juat doing their own business but for a man like Idris it could be an invitation for him.

That was what Nicoline was trying to proof, she was scared of him too, but I think she chose to be brave at the end and cage the beast for real and make herself as the bait. Nicoline's trap will not work if Idris wasn't the man that Nicoline's instinct was telling her that he was. At the end of the day, Nicoline didn't force him into doing something he didn't want to. Idris was real capable of stopping himself but he is just a morally corrupt twisted sick man and he really shouldn't be out in the open anymore. So I didn't think Idris is a survivor of any kind because I never see him as a victim.

I hope my rambling made any bit of sense and answer some question you were looking for.

😅

Sorry for the late reply. I was trying to put my head in order. The explanation keep mixing up and entangle with the beginning and ending haha

It's just this movie is amazing I think anyone watching can have their own perspective in how they see these characters and take conclusions from this story.

#instinct #marwan kenzari #anon #answer #carice van houten #instinct 2019

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css1992 · 5 years ago

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Do you take prompts? Cause I'm dying to read some good Mob boss Tony who's badass with everyone else and melts down for his baby Peter! :) Thank you anyways 😊

Hello there! I’m not sure I’m gonna take prompts yet, because I’m a really slow writer and would probably get overwhelmed way too quickly, but I do love myself some Mob Boss!Tony, I just needed an excuse to write it, haha.

@roleplayangelprincess, I really do hope you like this! Thank you for reaching out. XO

Mob Boss!Tony x Precious!Peter

Word count: 5k+

Warnings: explicit, nff, 18+, mentions of blood, violence, torture and child abuse (nothing explicit), no violence between main pairing. Mafia AU. If you spot anything else that might be triggering to anyone, please let me know!

-*-

Tony’s world had always smelt of gunpowder, blood and tears, for as long as he could remember. The only lullabies he knew were the sounds of shots being fired, screams of horror and desperate begging. Howard used to say it was important that he was raised in the middle of all that, he believed it would make him a tougher man, a firmer leader. He wanted Tony to experience all those situations he usually found himself in, because one day it would all be his – his whole empire, all of New York City’s underworld would be in the palm of his hands, and the scum of the earth that lived in it would be able to smell fear, weakness and softness from three thousand miles away.

So Tony never knew softness, kindness or gentleness. He was raised on blood, tears and gunpowder, to the sounds of screams, gunshots and begging. He was groomed to be a leader as heartless and cold as Howard, to be able to pull the trigger without hesitating. Cold and calculated. He was eight when he killed for the first time, just old enough to support the weight of the gun with both hands and handle its kickback.

The man had begged and cried, looking into his eyes, and Tony didn’t feel anything, he had heard those sounds so many times by then, it did nothing to him. Howard said “do it” and he did. He pulled the trigger. The man’s blood spattered his face and arms and shirt and it was weirdly warm, like teardrops on his skin. He stood there, mesmerized for a few seconds, before Maria told him to go clean up and get ready for supper.

That episode was his life in a nutshell, the smells, the sounds, the darkness, his mother’s reaction, his father’s nod of approval. He grew used to it all, he embraced it, he craved it, and he didn’t know anything else.

Until Peter.

Peter was a ray of fucking sunshine on Tony’s cloudy, dark days, and he hated it at first. He hated that he made his world brighter, he hated that Peter made him want to bend to his every wish, hated that he made him want to protect him from the world, hated that he made him feel so fucking vulnerable, and weak, and exposed, but he loved him. He fucking loved him so much. He had no idea when it started, but it felt like from day one, he never had a choice.

Tony had just left one of his clubs in a terrible mood, one of his most profitable deals had fallen though due to his employees’ incompetence and he had had to kill people – six, to be precise – it was a bloodbath, there was running and screaming and just nonsense in general, as he sat there and rolled his eyes at the failed escape attempts. To top it all off, there was blood on his favorite suit. It was a three-piece, Italian cut suit and it would go to waste thanks to those idiots running around like fools. All in all, a bad day.

“Excuse me, sir! Excuse me!” And then, sunshine. That chirpy, high-pitched voice coming from behind him was slightly annoying, and if he had been just a little more pissed he would have turned and shot him on the spot, no questions asked, but as it was, he’d maybe just tell him to fuck off.

When he turned around, though, there was a young man looking back at him, clearly scared now. Tony noticed that Rogers and Barnes had their guns pointed at him, as he raised his shaky, thin arms in surrender, a black, Italian leather wallet in his hand. “Y-you, y-you dr-drop...” He couldn’t even speak, so Tony took that time to look him over. He looked young, probably in his late teens or early twenties, he was thin and short and he had a very pretty face for a boy. He wore baggy jeans and an oversized NYU hoodie, so Tony guessed he was a student. In short, a very delicious meal for such a shitty night.

“Rogers, my wallet,” Tony cut the boy off, gesturing for Steve to get his wallet from him. He almost passed out when the blonde man approached him, still holding the gun to his face.

“I don’t mean any trouble, sir, I’m so sorry, I just found the wallet on the ground, I-I swear,” He whimpered pitifully and the sound made Tony’s cock twitch. He raised an eyebrow at himself.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking around to maybe try to figure out where the boy had come from. They were in a deserted area, somewhere between Queens and Brooklyn, near one of his clubs and a few of his warehouses, there was nothing around there that would justify Peter’s presence, unless he had ulterior motives and the college student get-up was just a ruse.

“W-walking home from work, sir. I-I didn’t have any money left f-for the subway,” He stuttered, hands still up, he was shaking all over now, and it usually didn’t bother Tony, but he was such a pretty thing, the older man didn’t like to see those squirming for the wrong reasons, he had other uses for them. If the boy was harmless, that terrible night could still be saved.

“What’s your name, boy?” That was all Natasha needed to run a background check on him and, in that moment, he found out the name of what would come to be his greatest weakness. Peter Parker. He looked at Barnes and he nodded quietly, sending a message to Natasha to run a quick check. As soon as it came back clear, he opened a big, shark-like smile at the still trembling boy. “Well, it appears we got off on the wrong foot, sweetheart.”

In retrospect, Tony wouldn’t be able to tell what possessed him that night, what made him think that it would be a good idea to lure him into his car and offer him a ride home. He knew that the boy did things to him, he was gorgeous and innocent-looking, a personal favorite, but Tony didn’t often act on impulse. Even his one-night-stands were carefully chosen and vetted, he couldn’t afford to take any risks; but that night, for the first time – the first of many –, he made an exception for Peter Parker. He didn’t know what made the younger man come with him, either, specially after being held at gunpoint by Rogers and Barnes, but he came, probably possessed by the same entity that clouded Tony’s judgment.

The mob boss made up a story about being the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and told him that Rogers and Barnes were his bodyguards. He wasn’t too far off from the truth, he did run a multi-billion dollar business and Barnes and Rogers were the only two people in the world he trusted with his life. He told the naive boy that he couldn’t tell him the company’s name for safety reasons, and he ate it all up like a good boy, got in the car with Tony and was easily charmed by his words.

What the older man didn’t count on, though, was that he was really charming, too, in his own way. He was smart and sharp, slightly sarcastic and sassy, and really, really sweet. The older man couldn’t quite understand why it attracted him so much when he took the boy back to his place, but it did, and when he had him sprawled on his one-thousand thread count Egyptian sheets, mouth slack and begging for more, he thought it was merely lust.

Only it didn’t go away after that first night, but Tony thought he just had to fuck him out of his system, which seemed easy enough. He invited Peter to dinner – unfortunately, he had to keep up the facade of being a nice gentleman if he wanted to have him again – and the boy was so fucking happy to hear from him when he picked up the phone. Tony could swear his room got brighter when his voice filled up the empty space.

He was just as charming and even more sassy the second time they met, a little less shy, a little bolder now that Tony knew what he looked like naked and stuffed full of his cock. He took him back home again. And again. And again. By the fifth time they got together, Tony realized – with the utmost horror – that he was beginning to care about the boy. He longed to see him, he wanted to know about his days; he was amused by his antics, he remembered the names of his friends from school, and the professors he liked and disliked. He wanted to hurt the people who made him sad for whatever reason, he was worried about his eating habits, he wanted to make all his money problems disappear. He cared about him.

So, logically, he had to kill him.

There was just no other way, Tony Stark couldn’t afford to care about anybody, it was too big of a weakness, it was gonna be his downfall and he couldn’t have it. So by the sixth night, he did what he had to do. He unwrapped the thin, pale arms from his chest, untucked the sweet-smelling head from under his chin, and got out of bed. He took his gun from the nightstand drawer and pointed it at Peter’s head.

He’d make it painless, the boy wouldn’t have to suffer, he’d die peacefully in his sleep. Tony would have to buy another bed, but other than that, it wouldn’t be much of a clean-up, the way the boy was lying almost in the center of the bed, there wouldn’t even be blood on the floor. Besides, he didn’t have any family left, he only had a couple of friends at school and two more who were away for college, so not many people to look for him. They’d think he’d moved away or something.

Tony stared at him over the barrel of his gun. As soon as he had stepped out of the bed, Peter reached for his pillow and clutched it like a doll, dreaming away, with an almost unnoticeable smile on his lips, completely unaware that he was sharing a bed with the most dangerous criminal in New York, possibly in the whole country. So innocent, and naive, and beautiful.

He was so tiny, so out of place in his cold, dark world. Peter didn’t smell like blood or gunpowder, he smelled like something sweet and edible, he never screamed or cried, he always had a bright smile for him and the most delectable laugh.

Tony faltered. No matter how hard he tried to will his finger to pull the trigger, he couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t fucking do it. He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered the gun, cursing under his breath, unable to believe he couldn’t do such a simple thing. Eight-years-old Tony hadn’t fucking blinked when Howard told him to do it. Why couldn’t he fucking do it?

“Tony? Is everything okay?” When he opened his eyes again, Peter was sitting up, and he looked worried. Tony noticed his eyes were fixed on the gun in his hand. “What’s going on?” He whispered, looking around the room, as if there was a threat out there, little did he know he was face to face with the devil himself.

“Nothing, sweetheart, I just thought I heard something. I checked, it’s nothing, go back to sleep.” He put the gun back in the drawer and the boy breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, good. Come back to bed, then.” He reached out his arms to Tony, so open and trusting, sitting on his big bed, swallowed by all those expensive sheets, wearing one of his old t-shirts. So fucking small, and breakable, and vulnerable. Tony couldn’t keep him. As long as the boy was alive, he would be a weakness, he could be used as leverage.

So he needed to die. It was for his own good.

The next day, he called Barnes into his office, lighted up a cigar and slowly smoked it as he tried to digest the words he had to say to him. The other man stood there stoically, waiting patiently, until Tony blurted out, “I need you to kill Peter.” He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even flinch. Professional as ever.

“When do you need it done, boss?” Barnes was the best man for the job, Steve was great, but he was a little soft, and Tony saw the way he looked at the kid, with that small, discreet smile full of fondness.

“Tonight,” he said, jaw set, eyes narrowed. It needed to be done. “He has a night shift at the diner. He gets off at eleven, I want it done by then. You know the drill, be discreet, careful not to make much of a mess, don’t leave any witnesses, yada yada.” He gestured with his cigar, feeling detached, like he was talking about anybody else but Peter.

“You got it, boss.” Barnes nodded and turned to leave, only to be stopped by Tony’s voice.

“Barnes,” Tony didn’t look at him when he turned around. “Make it quick. And painless.”

“Of course.”

So Tony waited. And that day might as well have lasted a fucking year, the way the hours dragged, he couldn’t concentrate on his meetings, couldn’t fucking eat, not even his cigars were enough to calm him down. He was snapping at his employees, killing people for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, losing money for being too fucking off his game.

Around ten that night, he sat on his favorite armchair, the one one in which he and Peter fucked when they couldn’t even make it to the bed, and waited. He drank his scotch and pretended to think of something else, anything, but his mind kept going back to Peter’s lifeless body covered in blood. Gone forever. He lighted up a cigar and, when he noticed his fingers were fucking shaking as it approached eleven o’clock, he realized he couldn’t fucking do it. At ten fifty-eight, he called Barnes.

“Barnes, what’s your status?” He asked, a lump in his throat, afraid it was too late already.

“He’s gathering up his things to leave, boss.” He answered calmly and Tony sighed in relief.

“I’m calling it off. Come back here right now, you and Rogers.”

“Yes, boss.”

As he waited for them, he poured himself a glass of scotch, weighting his options. He couldn’t kill Peter, but he couldn’t let him be a weakness either, so he needed a plan. First of all, Peter couldn’t be kept in the dark anymore, it was too dangerous. Second of all, nobody could ever know about him, the only two people who already knew he existed were Barnes and Rogers, and he would keep it that way.

“It’s your duty to make sure no one knows about him. Not a single soul. I mean it.” He stared at them intently and they looked back at him impassibly, nodding. “If anyone gets a whiff of him, if anyone tries to harm him in any way, I’m gonna choose one of you to torture and kill and let the other one watch and then lock them in the same room with the body to watch it rot, are we clear?”

“Yes, boss,” they both answered in unison, unfazed. One of the reasons Tony trusted them with his life was because they were each other’s weakness, they were easy to threaten. The second reason, of course, was because they risked their lives to rescue him when the Ten Rings gang managed to kidnap him, under Obadiah Stane’s orders, the jealous bastard. Nobody else came but them, and they took down the whole gang by themselves. He rewarded them handsomely, and they became the highest ranking people in his inner circle, followed closely by Natasha and Bruce.

“Good. Bring him to me.”

Not even an hour later, Peter walked into his office, looking frightened. As soon as he saw Tony, though, he breathed a great sigh of relief, rushing to his side to sit on his lap and hold him tight. Tony raised a brow, confused.

“I was so worried, Bucky and Steve just picked me up and they wouldn’t say anything, I thought something had happened to you.” His little arms clutched his neck tightly, desperately, and Tony’s heart swelled with emotions he didn’t even know existed. He breathed in the boy’s scent, feeling nervous all of a sudden, he wasn’t sure why.

“We need to talk, Peter.” He held his head with both hands and pushed him a little. “Maybe you’ll want to sit a little farther away from me for what I’m about to tell you.”

“I know what you’re gonna tell me. Please, don’t.” Tony froze at that, muscles going rigid, eyes wide. He stared at the kid’s face and he looked embarrassed, sad and scared.

“What do you think you know, Pete?” He asked quietly, studying the boy’s reactions. He shrugged his shoulders, avoiding Tony’s eyes.

“I think you’re not really a CEO,” he whispered, as a single tear ran down his cheek. Tony reached out to dry it immediately. “I-I think you h-hurt people… And stuff.”

“What stuff? Why do you think that?” He tucked a curl behind his ear and placed a finger on his chin to force him too look at him.

“I don’t know what stuff, just… Stuff. Illegal stuff.” More tears followed and he closed his eyes briefly, opening them a few seconds later. Tony waited patiently. “I’ve heard you on the phone a few times, I can smell gunpowder on you. And – blood. And it’s never yours.” Tony nodded slowly, watching his boy falling apart before his eyes, he looked pained. He was clearly a lot smarter then he let on and a lot sneakier, if he had been listening in on his phone calls. Weirdly, the older man wasn’t even mad.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” He questioned, trying to dry his tears again, holding the boy’s cheeks in his palms. He nodded slowly.

“It terrifies me,” he admitted quietly. “But I – I just. I can’t stay away from you.” He frowned and Tony sighed, smiling softly.

“I couldn’t hurt you if I tried, baby boy.” He wanted to laugh at how true that was.

“I know. I think I know that, just. Just don’t tell me wh– I don’t want to know. The things you do.”

“Of course, it has nothing to do with you, you’re not a part of this world. I’m just gonna need you to be more careful, ok, baby? We’ll set a few ground rules, and everything will be just fine.” He rubbed the boys arms as he nodded, but he still seemed agitated and nervous. ”Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I – Yeah, I guess.” He tried to smile but it turned into a grimace as a few more tears escaped his eyes. “I’m really scared.”

“Peter, listen to me. You don’t ever have to be scared, do you hear me? No one can touch you, you’re under my protection. Do you understand that? No one would dare, I swear to you. I swear it.” There was a lot of confidence in his voice, but he was terrified himself, he was afraid he couldn’t keep that promise, but Peter believed him. The way his face softened and he was finally able to smile again, Tony knew he believed him.

They took it one day at a time, slowly figuring out their own rules. After that talk, they didn’t see each other for a few weeks, just in case someone had taken notice of the fact that Peter had entered the tower seven times over the course of four months. Then, for the boy’s spring break, Tony took him to Japan for a week, where they could walk around freely, hand in hand, only taking a few precautions before traveling, like not boarding the same plane. After that, they were able to establish a weekly routine, they never met on the same day or at the same time, but they never went more than a week without seeing each other. Quickly, days turned into weeks, which turned into months, which turned into years. Two whole years, and Tony still couldn’t believe how a boy like Peter could belong with a monster like him.

“Boss, the prince is upstairs,” Barnes warned him as soon as he stepped into the tower, to Tony’s surprise. They hadn’t scheduled anything for that night and, for a few seconds, the older man panicked and it must have shown, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. “He’s unharmed. He insisted that I brought him as a surprise, just a heads-up.” He added and the boss let out a breath slowly, nodding.

“Very well.”

Tony hurried upstairs and as soon as he stepped inside the apartment, he was gifted with the sight of his young lover sitting on his armchair. He was wearing one of the older man’s t-shirts, his favorite one, the oldest Tony owned. He didn’t seem to be wearing anything underneath it, as Tony got a glimpse of his cute little cock peeking out from under the hem of his shirt, between his parted legs. The boy was sleeping, head resting on a hand, propped on the arm of the chair.

The older man walked towards him, loosening his tie, then stopped in front of him. He knelt by his feet, stroked his calves lightly and kissed both of his knees softly. The boy’s eyes fluttered open in surprise, until they finally focused on Tony.

“My prince,” The older man greeted, kissing his way up the pale, plump legs, stopping at the hem of the t-shirt. “Did I keep you waiting?”

“Tony,” He mumbled sleepily, running his fingers through the other’s graying hair. “It’s okay, I was hoping to surprise you, actually, but I guess I fell asleep.” His hand slid towards the older man’s cheek and he leaned into it like a cat, turning a little to place a kiss on his palm.

“Good boy,” he resumed his kisses on pale, shivering thighs, and Peter sighed quietly. “What was this surprise about, baby boy?”

“Just missed you, it’s been a while,” Peter adjusted himself on the chair, sliding his lower half down the seat and spreading his legs wider, until Tony could see a sparkle between the boy’s cheeks, where his pink, tight hole should be. The young man was blushing slightly, Tony found it endearing that he still did, after all that time.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, have I been neglecting you?” His fingers slid across Peter’s legs, thumbs drawing circles on the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs, and the boy’s breath hitched as he got closer and closer to his balls. Tony saw his small cock flushing pink as it stood to attention, and the toy inside his hole jerked.

“It’s okay, you’re busy.” Which was absolutely true. Between Peter’s classes, Tony’s tight schedule and having to keep the boy a secret, there wasn’t a lot of time for them to meet, but Tony would correct that soon. When the boy graduated in a couple of months, he wouldn’t be such an easy target anymore, at least he wouldn’t have a predictable schedule in such a public place. He could live at the tower, where it was safe, and Barnes and Rogers could take care of him whenever he needed to go out.

“I was, little one, but I have all the time in the world for you now, let’s see this surprise of yours, shall we?” He spread Peter’s legs further, placing each of them on the arms of the chair, his boy was incredibly flexible, gorgeous to watch. He raised his shirt a little bit, just up to his stomach, but didn’t take it off. “Ah, I see. What a beautiful surprise you have there, baby boy. Thank you.” His little hole was stretched around the plug Tony had bought for him, a slick, black one, with jewels encrusted on the handle, now sticking out of him. It wasn’t too big or thick, he liked him to be tight, after all. “Did my prince come while putting this in?”

“Yes, sir… Twice,” He was already panting and Tony hadn’t even touched him where it mattered yet. He smirked and clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, you must have been really starved for cock, right? Daddy haven’t been feeding you properly. We’re gonna correct this now.” He held the end of the plug and pushed it in a little more, moved it around a bit, only to hear his boy gasp when it brushed his sweet spot. Then he slowly started pulling it out, watching in amazement as his rim stretched to allow the thickest part of the toy to come out. Once it was completely out, his hole gaped for a few seconds, before clenching furiously around nothing.

The kneeling position was hard on his knees, but his prince deserved nothing less, so stayed there and leaned in, licking the wet, quivering hole, eliciting a desperate moan from Peter, as he held his own knees in an attempt to keep his legs spread open. Tony gripped his thin waist, fingers digging into his soft flesh, hard enough to leave marks, and tried to fuck his tongue inside him. Since it was already a little loose from the toy, it gave in and he was able to lick inside him, and the boy cried out in pleasure, rocking his hips against his mouth.

“Oh, I missed this, Tony… I missed this…” He mumbled, arching his back, and the older man kept going, tongue buried inside his hole, fucking and licking it, biting his ass cheeks carefully when the young man tried to close his thighs around his head. He tasted delicious and smelled amazing. Tony made his way up to his ball as he pressed two fingers into his hole. They went in with barely any resistance as the boy moaned desperately when Tony sucked his balls into his mouth.

Peter writhed on the chair, hands buried in the older man’s hair, trying to pull him closer, small whimpers leaving his mouth every time the man’s fingers brushed his prostate. Tony licked his way back to his hole, as he tried to fuck it with both his tongue and fingers, until he could see Peter was way too close to the edge.

He got up from the floor and undid his pants. As soon as his cock sprung free, Peter launched himself at it, grabbing it with one hand and sucking the head into his mouth, like a starving man. Tony’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he groaned, burying his fingers in his wild curls and tugging just a little, enough to prevent him from deep-throating his cock – he probably wouldn’t last long if he did, sometimes he thought he might come just from rimming him.

He held his head with both hands, setting a steady pace, and Peter obeyed happily. He licked the tip of his cock, kissed it gently, then went back to sucking as one of his hands came up to play with the older man’s heavy balls – he hadn’t come in days. He took a deep breath and allowed his boy to have his fun for a while, but then pushed him gently and lifted him from the chair, taking a seat himself.

“Come sit on your throne, my prince.” He grinned devilishly, and Peter didn’t even blink an as he placed a knee on each side of Tony’s thighs, reaching behind himself to guide his cock inside.

“Oh, fuck,” He cried, as he sank down onto his cock, mouth hanging open, head thrown back in ecstasy. Tony watched, mesmerized, as the boy took him in slowly, inch by inch, until his cock was completely sheathed inside his tight heat. Peter’s inner walls massaged him as his little hole fluttered, trying to adjust to his girth, and he made little sounds of pain and pleasure.

“You’re perfect, baby, perfect for me,” Tony held his face by the cheeks and brought him closer, licking his lips open to kiss him messily and hungrily. He’d missed him, too, his soft skin, his high-pitched voice, his tiny hands stroking his face, the bouncy, sweet-smelling curls. Peter truly belonged in another world, and although he should feel completely out of place in Tony’s arms, nothing ever felt so right in his life.

The younger man started moving after a few seconds, whimpering against Tony’s lips as he rocked his hips back and forth, up and down. His hands clutched the back of the chair as he bounced on the older man’s cock, following the pace set by Tony’s hands on his hips. The older man slapped his ass once, twice, only to see the boy coming undone, biting his lips and trying to stop himself from screaming.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he grunted, fucking up into him as he bit the younger man’s lips, holding his neck with a hand. When he slapped him a third time, Peter couldn’t hold it in anymore, he screamed the older man’s name as he came with a blinding force, arching his back and gripping his shoulders. If the sight of Peter out of his mind with pleasure wasn’t enough to push him over the edge, the way he clenched his hole on his cock would do it. The older man followed suit, as he grunted against the boy’s neck, leaving marks on his skin.

Peter went limp in his arms, completely relaxed and safe, arms wrapped around his shoulders as Tony held him close, protectively. If it were up to him, Peter would never leave the penthouse, he’d quit his job, and school, and be right there where Tony could look after him. But of course he was a feisty little one, so it wasn’t up to Tony.

“Have you eaten, little one?” He whispered, placing soft kisses on his shoulders and neck, and the boy shuddered.

“No, I was waiting for you.” He whispered back, snuggling further into his arms. “But now I’m sleepy.”

“Poor baby.” He placed a kiss on his temple. “Why don’t you take a nap while I cook you some Bucatini Carbonara, huh? Isn’t that your favorite?”

“No, I’ll cook, you always cook for me,” he mumbled against his neck and Tony could barely understand what he said.

“But you’re sleepy, baby. Besides, you’re a terrible cook on a good day.” Tony chuckled, feeling the boy laughing against his chest.

“Fine, I’ll help, then,” he compromised, pecking his lips.

“Sounds great.”

Peter carefully lifted off of his cock, then stepped out of the chair, hurrying to the bathroom. Tony watched, heart clenching, as his boy walked away. He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute, trying to rein in the feeling of dread that overtook him as he imagined Peter in danger, held captive by someone like him, someone as cruel and heartless as him, someone who would torture him, make him suffer, just to get to Tony. He opened his eyes wide, feeling helpless, as he realized there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to protect him. He’d give away his entire kingdom, he’d give his own life in exchange for his.

Peter came back to the living room, still wearing his old t-shirt, a huge grin on his face as he rambled about school. Tony smiled to himself. He was worth it.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #ironspider #mafia au

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bangtanmythology · 5 years ago

Text

In The Name Of Song. Truth Uncovered.

About: Y/N finds out the whole story of what she has become and who those around her are. Her training starts and her and Jimin become the siblings he’s always known they were.

Brother!Jimin x Reader, Mermaid!Jimin, Angel!Yoongi. BTS Supernatural AU.

Words: 2.9K

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“I understand the parent’s side of things. My Great, Great Grandmother betrayed a group of witches by having an affair with the head witches’ husband, who was a human and had a child, so they cursed her. The curse meant that she would never be able to marry a regular human or another mermaid, if she did fall in love with any of these then she was destined to kill him with her voice. Right? So, when she sang a lullaby to her baby, the husband died. The baby, who was my great grandmother, ended up marrying an nasty, rebelling mermaid, their female baby was born half mermaid, the other half became what was known as a siren because the baby, our grandmother, used her powers for evil things, she’d lure sailors in, killing them and using them, never falling in love but instead simply killing them. When we use our siren form to lure people instead of making them fall in love, we will simply kill them. Grandma used the sailors and ended up having a baby with one of them, she abandoned this baby and another mermaid raised mum.” You rambled,

The story was beyond complicated, your head spinning round in circles as Jimin stared at you, nodding every so often with a focused look on his face. He reached his hand out and placed it gently on your ankle, in the few hours that Yoongi had left you alone with Jimin you came to realise that he was an extremely clingy person.

“Yes, that’s all correct and then you know the story with mum and dad, we are now indebted to the reapers but the devils and angels work along side these reapers and when an angel falls, instead of becoming a devil, they are stuck wandering around the earth however they retain some of their angel powers. Yoongi is a fallen angel because he betrayed Michael, the archangel. He has not told me what he did to this day. He is stuck on earth, he begged the reapers to kill him again, to take him from this world and place him as a devil in the next but they would not do it. He begged for a purpose, for something to do, for something to protect, they told him that his debt would be payed off if he spent his life watching over our families. They told him that when we turned 18 he had to bring us here and watch us, make sure that we weren’t causing harm to the reality that we were in, this is the 7th Reality, we’re from the first reality which is the main reality. He had some other mermaids brought here to train me, our grandmother is here, she’s going to help you, along with me, we’re going to train you.” Jimin’s voice was soothing, his words somehow sinking fully into you and making it seem as though maybe all of this would be okay.

“Right, so he is a fallen angel, a bad one? He stares at me funny.” You mumbled, looking down at Jimin’s hand that was now gently running over the smaller grazes on your calves. Jimin looked up at you, shaking his head and laughing,

“He’s not bad, he was kicked out of the angel realm, that’s all, he’s grumpy, I mean he basically looks after this world all alone, the reapers went extinct 9 years ago and nobody else was sent to care for everything. Half of this world is dead, only magical creatures and hybrids live here. There’s human’s who are sent here to repent their sins, a lot of the creatures and hybrids feast on them. Werewolves and vampires are the worst, we have those in our reality too, they are aggressive, dangerous cannibals who feast on people and kill them. Of course, the werewolves and vampires here take care of those who are criminals. Quite often the ones sent here are either humans who commit serious crimes that they get put into life imprisonment or death row. We also have monsters who fight amongst themselves sent here. This is basically a training ground for a lot of people who are supernatural. We only stay here for a coupe of years and then we go back to the reality we are from. Originally, Yoongi was going to be sent to the 2nd reality to purge it, it is a hell reality, everything burns there, everything is crime and corruption. Of course, that would have been an awful place for us to be seeing as we’re weak to fire after all.” Jimin was rambling, his head now on your thighs as you ran your fingers through his hair, petting down the stray hairs that always seemed to stick up around his face.

“Well, if we’re weak to fire, what actually are our powers and what exactly am I doing here? How long will I be here?” you were looking around the cave, the water placing you in a trance as your eyes focused and unfocused on the shapes beneath it.

“Well, our skin is like that of a fish, of course when we are in our human form it doesn’t look like it or feel like it, but it definitely still is. You will notice that you’re now comforted when you are in the water, in fact if you really need to you can actually manipulate the water, nothing intricate, we can’t make patterns or anything but we can make ripples, waves, if we work together in groups we can even cause tsunamis. The ocean is where we are the strongest. I read a few books that say that if we meet another being, we can give them the ability to breath underwater which is obviously one of our strengths. Fire burns us severely, even the slightest touch will scald our skin and burn us, fire will kill us 3 times faster than it will kill anything else. When we sing, we attract others, they become enchanted by the sounds of our voices and we can lure them in, make them fall in love with us. I’ve done so with many girls, that’s why I have a bit of a reputation,” His voice trailed off at the end, his tone turning into a cheeky, playful tone that had you chuckling slightly. The small, adorable guy who was currently half asleep on your lap did not seem like he could be seducing anyone. His cheeky, lazy smile put doubt into you when I t came to his adorable clingy personality and you were sure that he could be a scary person when needed.

“I highly doubt that you are luring any women in with this clinginess Jimin, plus I haven’t sung a day in my life, nor will I, I sound like a trampled cat when I sing and it really isn’t pleasant,” Your voice was full of laughter and playfulness, mimicking his tone. The fever you had been burning up in had since disappeared and Yoongi explained that it was because he dumped you straight into the water as soon as you got here and you had transformed into your mermaid body, the reason behind the cuts, bruises and scrapes across your legs. You had not remembered anything because apparently it had been excruciating and Jimin convinced Yoongi to erase your memory of the pain.

“Hey! I lure plenty of women in I’ll have you know,” Jimin mumbled. You gazed down at him, a loud laugh escaping your mouth as his cheeks burned bright pink. He was half asleep, a huge smile of his face as your fingers continued carding through your hair.

“Y’know, both of us were left with parent’s that knew what we’d become, they’re humans who come from special families, protectors, they take in orphaned supernatural children and babies. I hated them when I first went there, I was 6, I understood what was going on, I wouldn’t talk to them, I lashed out, I did not want to be there. I wanted to go back to you, I wanted my little sister, I’ve known all these years that I had a sister, that I couldn’t contact her, that there was a little girl out there who needed me and I couldn’t do anything, I didn’t try hard enough, I’m a fai-“

“shut up. Do not talk like that Jimin. You couldn’t have done anything, we were separated for a reason, I didn’t know you existed, I was always protected, I never had problems. I used to be different you know, I used to be cheerful and naïve, I had someone in my life, an older brother figure, he protected me. Sure, he betrayed my trust but because of that I became careful, I stopped trusting people, I can analyse people, I closed myself off. Of course, he came back, and he’s kept his promise to this day, but I think something is weird about him. I think he’s like us, he disappears once a month for like a week or so and then he comes back always in a good mood and happy and he’s really athletic, strangely so, he’s really protective as well,” You were rambling, your brain trying to process that Seokjin may be something other than human. That everyone in your life might be more than human.

“He’s not like us, sounds like a werewolf to me,” Jimin sounded angry, his jaw clenching and unclenching to calm himself down, his fingers gripping his sweatpants.

“No way. You said that werewolves are nasty, evil creatures. Seokjin is lovely, he taught me to ride a bike, he took me to my first swimming lesson, he even spoke to my boyfriend when he embarrassed me and broke up with me in front of the whole school,” Your fingers had stilled in his hair, instead resting them on his forehead. Jimin let out a breathy laugh,

“Then he had an ulterior motive, he must have known about you being a mermaid, there is no way he’d do that purely for care for you. He knows more than he is giving up. Also, let me guess, you never saw that guy ever again?” Jimin was looking up at you, dark brown eyes shimmering, luminescent flecks lighting up his iris.

“Well no, I didn’t actually. That’s not like Seokjin, why would he use me for something like that, I knew him for 18 years, you know, I’ll bet that the years that he was gone was because he was here.” Your words were unsure and Jimin’s eyes were scanning over your face, a small pout set on his lips.

“Y/N, you don’t even believe what is coming out of your mouth right now. Anyway, I am sleepy, and I’d rather not sleep now, I’d like to be asleep and not out and about at night because I do not want an encounter with a vampire thank you very much.” Jimin was stretching his legs, raising himself to his feet, stretching his hand out to help you stand up with him. You stood with a groan, your legs protesting, knees feeling as though they were splitting in half from having been crossed for so long.

“How about I teach you how to change into your mermaid form, I mean, we only have a few hours of day light left and if you turn at night, you become a siren, not a mermaid. I’ve never seen one in person, but I’ve heard many rumours, apparently its not pretty, sorry Y/N.” Jimin had a big grin on his face, his previous radiant, happy attitude coming right back.

“You know what, I’d love that.” You smiled, your eyes looking around the cave, then down at your legs, wiggling your toes, patting the slightly damp floor of the cave with the sole of your foot. Your eyes flitted back up to meet Jimin’s.

“I have no idea how this works,” You chuckled, a nervousness creeping into your belly, he laughed and raised his hands above his head, intertwining his fingers and stretching them high above his head, leaning from side to side and then straight down, his hands touching the floor, his body surprisingly flexible.

“Well, first you’re going to need to be naked, there’s no way you can do it with clothes on. I won’t look, I promise, although, it’s not like I haven’t seen a naked woman before you know, and it’s not weird because all the mermaids have to see each other naked and also you’re my sister so I wont look at you in that way.” Jimin was laughing as he spoke, probably a reaction to the disgusted face you were giving him. You shook your head and pursed your lips.

“Definitely not, you need to close your eyes, then I’ll take my clothes off.” You told him, your voice pointed, echoing against the humid grey walls. He nodded his head and turned around, pulling his sweatpants down and jumping into the water, swimming a few feet away and keeping his back to you. You stood still for a moment, ensuring he was not going to turn around and embarrass you. Once he had been facing away from you for a few moments you began to undo your bikini top. Your brain suddenly remembered the words Yoongi had told you.

“Wait. Yoongi said that when I got here, he put me in the water and I transformed, does that mean that I was naked, and he put me back into my bikini?” You mumbled, cheeks heating up as you gripped the material of your bikini top in your hands. You saw Jimin shrug, his shoulders tucking into his neck as he raised his arms up in the air.

“when I got here, you were dressed but you definitely couldn’t have transformed with your clothes on. That’s one thing that Grandma made sure I never did.” He sounded bored and you quickly pushed your bottoms down your legs, stepping out of them and slowly lowering yourself into the water. You sighed as the pain in your legs seemed to disappear, the water seeping into your wounds as the water sparkled and the cuts, grazes and nicks in your skin seem to vanish slowly.

“erm, what’s happening to my legs?” You mumbled, your jaw hanging low as shock set into your body,

“Oh, well this water has been here for years, it’s connected to the sea of life, who even knows I don’t understand it either, this is the only body of water that does that, even the rest of the sea of life doesn’t do that,” He was smiling, you could tell by his tone. His hands clapped together as he mumbled a small ‘right then’ under his breath.

“okay, you need to picture your tail in your head. Close your eyes and imagine a fish, it is a beautiful, shiny fish, it is sparkling and swimming freely, zooming through the sea, it is happy, content with its life. Feel the water graze over its fins, it is warm, flowing in and out of coral and then, it becomes a human, with a beautiful, long tail.” His words are painting an exact picture into your head. You picture an emerald green fish, the colour of Jimin’s tail with golden colouration around its tail. It swam, shining, weaving between rocks, coral and other large fishes around it. The fish became engulfed by a bright light as a sharp shooting pain engulfed your legs and you could hear a faint voice.

“Keep focused, ignore the pain, focus on the fish,”

The bright light faded into a yellow hue, shortly replaced by a turquoise wave that seemed to break directly into your face before the wave disappeared. Small bubbles spread out in the water, a woman with beautiful green hair had her back to you, golden scales over her hips and waist, a large expanse of her back was clear, beautiful skin, the skin merging with the scales on the small of her back. Your eyes moved down to where her legs should have been, the golden scales faded into a beautiful emerald green, the gold returning down the sides of her beautiful, long tail. The bottom fin of her tail was a completely translucent golden colour, shimmering inside of the water. The fin was long, at least a half the size of the tail, split down the middle, two sides forming two curved, soft scalene triangle shapes that fluttered inside the water.

“you did it!”

Your eyes shot open, staring ahead of you. You felt the same, completely normal.

“No, I didn’t. I feel the same,” You mumbled, disappointment sinking into your features. Jimin laughed and shook his head, flicking his emerald tail as he swam towards you, reaching his hands out to grab at your feet, your arms stretch out behind you to balance yourself on the rocks behind you. His eyes glistened a brilliant green as they stared down at your tail.

Tail.

“oh my god! I did it!” You were screaming, the noise bouncing off the walls, a musical symphony piercing your ears, your eyes widened as you heard it, sending chills down yours and Jimin’s spines. You looked down at yourself, the beautiful gold and emerald tail you had seen in your mind was yours. Your chest was a translucent, shiny golden colour, it wasn’t scaly like your tail but more like the skin of a frog, glistening and smooth, your breasts completely covered in the golden colouring.

“Wow, this is amazing,” You laughed, a loud, airy laugh as you wiggled your tail out of Jimin’s grasp

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clcwedking · 5 years ago

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It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s DAKEN AKIHIRO/DAKEN, a VILLAIN from MARVEL! HE is SEVENTY THREE years old and look an awful lot like IAN ANTHONY DALE. I hear that they work as a MENACE TO LOGAN’S LIFE. Rumor has it they were AGAINST the Accords and ARE NOT registered under the new laws. I wonder what they’ll find with their new beginning! (luna, she/her, 27, aest)

This is so long i’m so sorry

KEY TO KNOW - THIS DAKEN IS FROM ANOTHER UNIVERSE

THIS UNIVERSE’S DAKEN ;;

(For anyone who has read What If? Wolverine: Father you will know this story - if not, read on)

The boy had the same origin - his mother was assassinated in an attempt to get to Logan. The key difference here: when Logan discovered Itsu’s body, he heard the baby’s heartbeat and was able to save him

Logan took the baby to a monastery in Japan to raise him in hopes that the discipline would raise him to be a better man

He named the baby John

John grew up and learned the ways of the monks at the monastery, but his nature - Logan’s nature - couldn’t be denied. He grew more violent, more angry, more disgruntled and unsettled as he got older

One day when he was around 12, Logan left for a few days to handle a few things. While he was gone, Sabertooth picked up on John’s scent, recognising it as being that of Logan and wanting to track him down. After killing a girl John had feelings for he threatened John’s life, holding him over the edge of a cliff while telling him the truth about his father

The emotion, anger, and fear in the moment kick started John’s mutation and his bone claws came out, stabbing straight into Sabertooth’s neck - of course his healing factor made this irrelevant, and he threw John off a cliff to punish Logan, and to test if he had the same healing factor as the rest of the family

John healed from the fall and returned to the monastery, and in his anger and rage he killed all the monks to leave Logan a message, before disappearing

He went to Tokyo and, as a result of his skill and instincts, he joined the Yakuza, quickly moving up the ranks, renaming himself Daken - meaning mongrel

By the time he reached the top he wanted more, wanted control of everything, and killed the head of the Yakuza, taking over himself at 22 years old

Then, Logan found him. They fought, Daken with his claws, Logan with his Muramasa blade, and Logan won. As a result of the blade used he couldn’t heal, and Logan was left to watch his son die.

Logan doesn’t remember any of this - because he’s lost his memories of his past he has no idea this happened. As a result, unless your character was alive and around in Japan from like 1960-1968 when he would’ve been in the Yakuza, they won’t know him either.

I am 100% up for characters feeling some kind of like multiverse weird vibe of maybe kind of knowing but not really knowing who this guy is!

THIS DAKEN’S HISTORY ;;

daken has a very tragic life i hope you’re ready. this is all taken from 616 Daken - unless your character is from that universe too, anyone mentioned here is from another verse!

Daken is the son of Logan and Itsu - a woman Logan fell in love with when he lived in Japan

Unfortunately that happy life he was hoping for was never meant to be - Itsu was heavily pregnant when she was killed, shot by the Winter Soldier in an attempt to draw Logan out

Logan returned to find her dead and, upon not being able to hear any heartbeats, assumed his baby was dead along with the woman he loved

Romulus appeared when Logan had left and removed the baby from Itsu’s womb - the baby had inherited Logan’s regenerative healing and had somehow survived the ordeal

Romulus left the baby with a wealthy Japanese couple who believed at the time that they could not conceive, and were happy to raise him as their own

Unfortunately his heritage was clear and, despite being given the name Akihiro by his adoptive parents, many in their village would use the slur “Daken”, meaning bastard dog

With so many treating him so poorly because of his heritage he grew up with a cold nature towards all but his father.

Unbeknownst to him at this point in his life, his pheromone control was beginning to kick in and was well outside of his control, largely focused on his mother and making her feel negatively towards him. With no idea what was causing it, Daken assumed his mother didn’t love him - something that only escalated when they were able to conceive, and Daken overheard her telling his father that she didn’t love Daken, and that they would soon be having their own child

When the baby was born Daken, wildly jealous, killed the baby and confronted his mother. His father was furious and disowned him, and his mother tried to kill him with a bayonet - this kicked off the rest of his mutant abilities and while trying to wave her away his bone claws came out and he killed her by accident

Unable to cope with the death of his wife and child, and unable to kill Daken, his adoptive father killed himself, leaving Daken alone

It was then that Romulus appeared and took him to the training camp in Canada Logan had been at decades earlier, to be cruelly trained by Silas Burr

He trained there for two years before being egged on by Romulus to attempt to kill his teacher, and in the process began learning to control his pheromone control

At this point Romulus began feeding Daken lies, telling him that Logan killed his mother and abandoned him, and as a result Daken grew with a need for vengeance on his father, wanting nothing more than to kill Logan for what he’d supposedly done to Itsu

He grew up adopting the nickname he’d hated as a child - Daken, over Akihiro - and began moving into a life of crime, stealing and murdering and doing his best to take over whatever criminal underworld he could

When he was given a tip as to where his father could be found he confronted him, resulting in a bloody fight where it was obvious Daken’s fighting abilities and prowess was very similar to Logan’s

The fight was interrupted by a hell of a lot of horrible stuff including more fighting and torture

He was later confronted by Logan and shot in the head by a carbonadium bullet - ironically by the Winter Soldier - to temporarily disable his healing factor so Logan could speak with him and tell him the truth

Lots more awful stuff happened in the mean time, Daken lost his memories for a bit and then got them back with some trauma added

Eventually he was recruited to join Norman Osborn’s Dark Avengers and agreed to join in hopes that he could lure out Cyclops and gain the Muramasa blade he had

He worked with the team for a time but he was never really loyal to Norman, always operating with ulterior motives

During this time he also made friends with Johnny Storm - by shooting him in the leg with an arrow in an attempt to frame Bullseye and lure the F4 in to work with him. He helped them break into Avengers Tower to steal info about Norman’s less than savoury ways but the plan failed thanks to Bullseye - evidence of Daken’s true nature was leaked online instead

Norman tried to push to improve Daken’s image which failed miserably, and when the Dark Avengers were later captured and arrested during the Siege of Asgard, he was the only one who escaped

Further fights with Logan ensued over time, not to mention he returned to his life of crime and working alone

He faked his death at some point and appeared in the F4 tower to ask Reed for help - his healing factor was having issues and he needed their help to fashion a claw-like weapon for himself before going off to work more in the criminal underworld

During this stint he met Laura who he thought of as nothing more than a clone of the man he’s hated his whole life - though they did end up working together

He then shifted to LA to try and take over the criminal underworld there, only to fail thanks to the effects of a drug called Heat which disabled his healing factor again, and LA ended disasterously

He then set his sights on Logan again, heading for NYC and planting bombs in Avengers Tower, the F4 tower, and the Jean Grey School before finding Logan and asking him to forgive him before blowing himself up. His goal had been to leave Logan with nothing.

Eventually he returned to life and formed a new Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, targeting Logan via Evan, wanting to turn him into Apocalypse. The ensuing mess resulted in Daken’s death at his father’s hands

He was brought back again by the Apocalypse twins as one of the Horsemen of Death

When Logan died he struggled to come to terms with the loss and how to deal with it, not having gotten his own revenge and struggling to reconcile the feelings of loss for a man he’d hated for so many decades. During this time he and Laura got closer, eventually developing more of a familiar relationship of a brother and sister

His life has swing between questionably noble for selfish reasons, and downright selfish and criminal depending on what suited him. He’s also died a couple more times, and has lost his left arm twice

Good to know/TLDR ;;

Daken absolutely hates Logan, believing that he was responsible for Itsu’s death and Daken’s horrific life full of torture and misery

Even so he has a propensity for the negative - his natural instincts are to be selfish and self preserving, something he’ll only ever ignore for a few select people like Laura and Gabby and Johnny

For someone who’s so selfish and will usually attempt to go for self-preservation, he’s really not good at being kind to himself. A life of torture and misery and confusion has made it hard to really bother taking care of himself

His healing factor seems to be linked to his mental and emotional state - his unsettled nature when Logan was killed made it hard for him to heal, especially to regenerate his arm when lost both times. Meditation to come to terms with his emotional state helped him recover

As much as he has a propensity for going back to criminal behaviour, he has expressed a desire to try and aim for better - unfortunately a life that’s been lived largely alone sees him return to more harmful and negative ways and leads back to a criminal life, or he’s pulled that way by his need for vengeance against Logan

He is very intelligent and strategically minded

Most recently Daken died again, but was only accompanied by Sabertooth and lady Deathstrike so there was no way for anyone to know what happened to him. when he was revived he was somehow brought back in this universe

Daken has the capacity to be good. He wants to, and has wanted to at numerous times in his life. At the very least he’s wanted to be better - but being in a universe where all anyone’s known him as is a bad guy, a violent man who does nothing but crime and murder and wreak havoc. Being in a whole new universe where no one knows him, what he is, what he’s done, definitely offers and opportunity to start with a completely clean slate, but Daken finds it difficult to ignore his natural instinct for bloodlust and violence so there’s a chance for him to be influenced either way!

Main Powers/Abilities ;;

Regenerative healing - the same as all other Wolverines, he has the ability to heal from injuries and loss of limbs

Superhuman factors - strength, speed, stamina, durability, agility, senses, and reflexes

Longevity

Weather adaption

Retractable bone claws - two from his knuckles and one from his wrist, pure bone rather than adamantium

Pheromone control - Daken has the ability to control people’s pheromones and emotional reactions as a result. He has demonstrated the ability to manipulate his pheromones for the purpose of suppressing his own scent to such a degree that even Wolverine's senses are unable to detect him. He can also use his pheromones to manipulate the emotional state and sensory perceptions of other beings. He has been known to use this power to instil intense fear, happiness, depression, sexual arousal, and a false sense of security to other beings. This allows him to seemingly appear where enemies can't see him, enabling him to inflect damage before an opponent realises it.

#beginagainintro #death tw #torture tw #suicide tw #drug use tw #bombs tw #guns tw #he's worse than noah lmao #if you read all of this you deserve a medal

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jenovahh · 6 years ago

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KYKM - 7 Months, 17 Days

Your hand is clutched tightly in his as the two of you dash through the rain, holding on to one another so neither of you fall off the edge of the cliff. Warped crystal is slippery as you found out when you had nearly slid off the edge, Zenos’ preternatural reflexes pulling you back to his side in an instant.

“Have you angered any primals recently Warrior? Or perhaps this is their vengeance; seeing as you always have us caught in some form of inclement weather?” he growls over a crash of thunder, slashing at a mirrorknight with his sword arm.

“How was I to know I would pick the one day it rains in the desert?! Ramuh doesn’t even rule over this domain!” you snap back, pulling him toward a tunnel just ahead of you. “And I don’t think he’s mad at me...” you add as an afterthought, voice sounding terribly unsure.

It matters little as you both skid to a halt in one of the tunnels in the Burning Wall, the glow of the many crystals providing more than enough light. You’re both only lightly soaked, but there is thankfully a torch burning brightly nearby, the two of you crowding near it immediately. The rain shows no sign of letting up, and if anything only seems to come down harder as you stare at the entrances of the tunnel. “It seems we’ll be here awhile yet.” you muse softly, shedding your outer most coat.

Zenos follows suit, placing his on a nearby rock as he watches you fumble around in your pack. “Next time we will not ignore my advice to check the upcoming weather before a hunt.” he admonishes, not at all fazed by your innocent smile.

“We killed it didn’t we? And much faster too, with your help. You have a real talent for hunting.” Your compliment does make him preen a little, though he’s not sidetracked as you intended.

“And we would also be home much faster, had you not declined my advice,”

“To go check the weather, yes, I know.” you pout, folding your arms like a petulant child. “How did you become such a great hunter anyway? If you can find Lampalagua that fast, you could find any S rank quickly I bet. What’s your secret?”

After your struggle to find Safat, the Warrior let Zenos take over as the leader o the hunt. With the right information, luring the beast out was mere child’s play to him, but fascinating to you. Your question seems harmless enough on the surface, making him reach into his memories of when he was young. The memories of his ruthless tutor, of spending the majority of his time locked away in the royal family’s library, with only books and tomes for his companions.

“Soryu?”

Your face is muddled with concern and worry, a gentle hand on his arm, making him wonder how long he had been caught in his memories. “Forgive me, Warrior. I was merely...thinking on how to answer your question.” he hums, staring out into the raging storm.

“I did not think it so personal a question. I apologize.” You whisper, gripping his sleeve a little tighter. Looking at you, he feels a part of himself he thought long buried bumble forth, wary and unsure. It wants to share with you. It wants to open itself to you, just as you had with him. No one had ever asked him much about himself, without some ulterior motive. But you, you wanted to know for the sake of knowing. To know more about him, the monster that he knew he was.

“Come, Warrior.” He moves to sit next to a wall, looking up at you expectantly. “Let us talk, to pass the time.”

You remain frozen there for a few seconds, but eventually move to sit next to him, closer than any normal (some would even say sane) person would dare sit, but still a respectable distance from his side. Resting an arm on one knee, he stares out at the storm again, collecting his thoughts.

“As you might have gathered, I came from a...privileged family. As a child, I could possibly want for nothing. Anything I desired was handed to me on a silver platter. T’was a life that I’m sure many a man would wish for.

I was the oldest child and thus, the one expected and trained to inherit all of the wealth. I had the best teachers, the best instructor for swordsmanship, cruel as he was. My honored father was busy with maintaining his wealth.”

He could feel his fist clench and relax, the memories swirling through his mind with startling force. “I hardly interacted with my siblings, due to my being primed to take over as head of the family one day. My main companions were books, spending hours upon hours locked within our personal library. Studying until I had read every word, memorized every tome. For the times I was not reading, I was trained in the art of combat, primarily swordsmanship due to my inability to use magic.”

He stares at his right hand, a wry smile as he does so. “I studied long into the late hours, trying to find anything to overcome this detriment. I had tried everything, even as far as self experimentation. The memory eludes me, of when I became so obsessed with the notion of gaining power, growing stronger, hunting opponents to see how swiftly I could defeat them. The people around me had ceased to be mortal, but merely machina on rails. Machines moving through the world without independent thought, until they became...” Until they became beasts in the hunt.

“Were you lonely?” Your voice is small and careful, your crystal depths full of understanding and concern. They are not filled with pity, but a genuine care for his well being. “I don’t mean to assume. But growing up without your father being around, or your mother, it must have been very lonely.” How perceptive you were. He had not even mentioned his mother’s untimely death, though he could hardly remember it himself. He could not remember mourning her, or if he had even got the chance.

And was he lonely? With no one but himself to depend on? Never knowing what it was to care or be cared for? Being taught that things such as affection were not needed for the prince of Garlemald?

Maybe he was.

“Perhaps.” he admits, the confession strange to his own ears. “It is but part of the past now. Nothing can change that. Nothing could change what I had become.” he finishes, looking out at the storm once more.

Suddenly there is a weight on his shoulders, the feeling of arms encircling one of his. “It might be the past. But that doesn’t mean that the past doesn’t hurt.” your voice is still quiet, full of a sureness he wasn’t sure he’d heard before. “Our past shapes us into who we are. Our past can hold us back. But it can also help us understand ourselves,” you pause with a warm smile, “and it can help others understand us too.”

You lean your head on his shoulder, fingers snaking down to touch his own. “Have I ever told you that I trust you? More than I have ever trusted anyone before?” you ask, idly drawing patterns on his skin.

He stares at your fingers moving across his own, enchanted by the motion. “No.” he lies, wanting to hear you say it again.

“Well, I do. I trust you more than anyone. And...you’re a really dear friend to me.” your voice trembles, a note of anxiety slipping through. Hearing your confession again fills him with a sense of pride, a recurring sense of peace that only you have ever brought out.

There’s a warmth swimming inside him that he can’t yet describe, but it threatens to take him over. He feels if he does not hold it back, it will fly loose beyond his control. But it must find it’s release some how, the feeling suffocating, as if he is drowning.

Unbidden, his hand slowly moves to intertwine with your own, warmer than he’s ever felt it. You do not reject the action, instead tightening your grip as you stare into his sky blue eyes. “You would be my first friend.” he admits, watching a shadow of sorrow flashing through your eyes before it’s gone, replaced by happiness.

“We can while away the quiet hours, as friend and confidant...” he hears you murmur to yourself, his own words striking a chord within him. Your hands fit perfectly together and not, a wrongness of it settling in, in this body that is not his own. It’s a new feeling, being this close to someone outside of combat, outside of seeking pleasure. Your thumb draws random patterns on his skin as you two wait out the storm in companionable silence, clutching your hand tighter in his.

#zenos #zenos yae galvus #FFXIV #ff14 #Final Fantasy XIV #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #my writings #kykm

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onisionhurtspeople · 6 years ago

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The Spiral of Narcissistic Abuse: Onision Edition

I originally wrote this post in April 2017, but in the year and a half since it’s been published, there have been literally dozens of new victims targeted by Greg (Onision) and his wife Lainey (Laineybot) that I felt were severe enough to warrant inclusion; and so here I am to re-write this post to include this new information.

1. “Love Bombing”: Display of excessive attention and professions of deep love. “Soul mate.”

Love bombing is the practice of overwhelming a person in a new relationship with signs of adoration and attraction in the form of gifts, compliments, meaningful gestures, discussions revolving around long-term future plans (marriage, children, vacations, etc), and professions of true love. The difference between love bombing and genuine love is that real love is earned over time through intimacy, trust, and consistency, whereas love bombing creates artificial feelings of intimacy that have not yet been earned.

Greg routinely engages in love-bombing when it comes to either a) trying to lure in new victims, or b) making attempts to reel in previous victims (such as exes), or current victims who are becoming disillusioned with him and beginning to pull away. In 2015, after Greg had convinced his wife Lainey to “explore her bisexuality” by getting a girlfriend, she had settled on an 18-year-old YouTube personality and makeup guru named Billie, and flew her down to their house for a visit. What Greg neglected to tell Lainey was that he had ulterior motives for pushing her to get a girlfriend, and this was because he wanted to convince Lainey and whoever her girlfriend was to enter a three-way, polyamorous triad with him. While Billie was there, in an attempt to draw her in, Greg showered her with gifts, compliments, and an excessive amount of attention and admiration; according to him, he paid her $1800 a month to manage his social media accounts, spent thousands of dollars buying her gifts of makeup and clothing, and his videos were full of glowing compliments towards Billie.

He tweeted this at Billie after she managed to “fix” a broken camera lens by throwing it on the ground. He screams at his own children just for losing at Mario Kart, could you imagine Onision having this reaction to anybody else treating his expensive equipment that way?

Every time he and Lainey broke up with Billie (usually because she refused to go along with their bizarrely strict and controlling expectations for her behavioral conduct, such as having to ask their permission before smoking weed - and yes, you read that correctly; the problem was not that she was smoking weed because it was illegal (as Greg and Lainey had originally claimed), the problem was that she didn’t ask their permission before doing it), Greg would begin to reel Lainey back in by trying to love bomb her again. This comment was made just two days after he’d cheated on Lainey with Billie, while she was pregnant with their second child:

…and every time they get back together, he begins love bombing Billie again, and ignoring Lainey. He is careful not to do this overtly on Twitter or Instagram like he does with Lainey, but during this time, he expends much more effort into communicating with Billie over Twitter and in videos than he does with Lainey. He is also very clearly more physically affectionate towards Billie in videos where the three of them appear together than he is with his own wife.

(And maybe this is just my unprofessional opinion, but the manner in which he compliments Lainey rings much more hollow and inauthentic to me than the compliments he used to give to Billie. It comes off as very rote and robotic, not genuine or sincere.)

2. Over-protection and isolation in the name of love. “We only need each other.”

One of the most common tactics that abusers use to control their victims is by isolating them from friends and family. They do this so that it’s harder for them to escape or see the truth of what’s happening to them. This behavior is manifested in ways such as convincing the victim to stay at home and not have a job, by controlling all of the money that flows through the household (including the victim’s money, if they DO have a job), and by slowly convincing the victim to stop talking to their friends and family members, because the narcissist “doesn’t think they’re good for [them]”. Without a sense of perspective or anybody from whom to gain a third-party point of view, it’s extremely difficult for the victim to objectively analyze the severity of the situation.

Throughout the history of his relationships, Greg follows this pattern with all of his partners to the tee. He makes repeated attempts to convince Billie to stop flying home to spend time with her friends and family members, who she is extremely close with.

Unbelievably, he attempts to manipulate her by bragging about how he’d already managed to successfully convince Lainey to not visit her own family more than once a year. In a livestream, Lainey once admitted that earlier this month (October 2018) was the first time she’s attended a family funeral in over five years, because Greg wouldn’t give her permission to go to any of the other ones. He also frequently attacks Lainey’s family on social media, as well as diminishing them in Lainey’s eyes by making his disapproval of them quite clear:

This is what he said about Lainey’s sister:

He especially does this to Lainey’s father, who saw through Greg from the very beginning, and desperately tried to stop his 17-year-old daughter from marrying him:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8sAjnkASwOo

He also did this with Skye while they were still married, restricting her from seeing anybody but members of his own family, and members of her family that he approved of (which was basically just her younger sister, a 15-year-old girl who Greg admitted to fantasizing about having sex with, including (more than once) accidentally moaning her name while being intimate with Skye). A quote from his website at the time:

January 24th, 2007

Alright, so it has been a few days since Skye and I hung out with another couple… judging from the fact that these people were the only ones we knew that had a lifestyle that wasn’t drugged out, beered out (also known as drugged out), smoked out, ethically lacking, rude etc. and we can’t even enjoy ourselves around them as much as we do each other… I just really don’t see myself and Skye spending time with anyone in the future other than family…

It seems that everyone who isn’t blood related has something extremely wrong with them… it may not be apparent at first, like a used car, but when you get on the road with them, and get to know them, the clanks and pings begin to show, maybe not after the first few miles, but definitely after the second or third ride.

(Source)

This isolation of Skye got so bad that eventually, two of their friends actually tried to convince her to leave Greg:

January 27th, 2007

I was going to post something extremely long about how upset I am with two people I know, within my personal life - who are continuously trying to break my wife and I apart psychically and vocally… but I’m not going to as I believe it can only cause a greater level of drama, which is exactly what they feed on.

In fact, they probably know I’m talking about them right now, and are dialing my number just to tell me/others how wrong I am for my wife, and somehow by saying I love her every hour of the day, feeding her full of yummy food, trying to make her happy emotionally/other ways, putting a roof over her head, that in result of that I’m a bad husband.

(Source)

A former classmate of Greg, who had gone to high school with both he and Skye, also gave an interview with someguy827, in which he detailed his observations of Greg slowly but surely isolating Skye from all of her friends and family members:

You can read the interview here. (Source)

And read the comment that he made on lolcow here. (Source)

3. Power gained by social isolation and artificially inflated self-esteem. “I feel like a better person with I am with them.”

Greg has claimed this about every single one of his exes. I can’t track down photographic examples of him claiming this about all of them never mind, I managed to find examples of him saying this to at least three different women. Here’s an example of when he said it to ex-girlfriend Adrienne:

Keep in mind that they had been dating for a grand total of two weeks when he made the claim to her that she had helped him grow into a better person in the short amount of time they’d been together.

He made the same claim about a high school girlfriend, Tanya, whom - again - he had known for only a couple of weeks; and they were not even officially dating when he said this to her:

Here is another example of him saying this about his first wife, Skye - again, only weeks into their relationship. The journal entry this screenshot was lifted from is much longer and I was having trouble pasting it into the body of this text in a way that was readable, so here’s a very short, cropped version of what he said. You can find the source for this quote here. (Source)

At the end of his relationship with Adrienne - while they were in the process of breaking up - he called her repeatedly while she was at work, leaving her over a dozen voicemails in less than a day. During this time, Adrienne managed to get in touch with Shiloh, another of Greg’s exes, to compare notes about the similarities in their relationship. When Shiloh listened to the voicemails that Greg had sent to Adrienne, she posted this comment on Facebook:

He had been telling the two women, only hours apart from each other, about how special and meaningful they were to him. The saddest thing about this is that at the same time, he was also calling Skye; and this exchange between himself, Shiloh, and Adrienne occurred only days before he started talking to Lainey.

4. Creation of a feeling of dependency; induction of fear of the loss of relationship.

One of the ways that Greg likes to induce feelings of psychological dependence on him is through a tactic called “manipulation break-ups”. The phenomenon is explained here by dwayners13:

One of the most common tactics used by manipulative & emotionally abusive individuals is the ‘manipulation breakup’. This is simply when a person repeatedly breaks up with their partner, not because they truly want to end their relationship, but rather to gain power & control over their partner & the relationship in general. There are a variety of issues & events that can cause a manipulation breakup (far too many to list here), but it can range from their partner doing something they don’t like/approve of to the emotionally abusive person being confronted on their abusive/manipulative behavior (by their partner &/or their partner’s family/friends). [...] Instead of taking the time to discuss or even arguing about the issue in an attempt to resolve it, the person will just break up with them, knowing that their partner doesn’t want to break up. They will then refuse to speak with them about the issue (& the relationship in general), essentially shunning or ignoring their attempts. This can include ignoring phone calls, text messages, VMs etc.., If the couple live together, they will simply refuse to speak with their partner (aka the silent treatment). Their intention is to make it seem like the relationship is over, so that the person will practically beg & plead with their partner & be willing to agree to anything in order to get back together.

(Source)

Greg and Lainey both admitted to him doing this multiple times throughout their relationship; and still, to this day, they admit that he attempts to break up with her every single time they argue, even though they’re married and have been for over seven years. It is extremely abnormal for a 34-year-old father of two who has been married for seven years to threaten to “break up” with his wife every time they get into an argument. These attempts at manipulation on Greg’s part terrify Lainey so much that she readily complies with whatever he wants in order to convince him not to leave her. This pattern could not be more apparent than how this manipulation tactic played out in their relationship with Billie.

During the time when Greg and Lainey were in a polyamorous relationship with Billie, Lainey expressed repeated discomfort about Greg and Billie spending so much time together while she was excluded by having to spend so much time cooking, cleaning, looking after their their son (she was pregnant with their daughter at the time), and managing their household (which we now know, thanks to Maya, that Greg does not help out with at all, meaning that Lainey spent the vast majority of her day doing these things while Greg and Billie were in another room playing games, making videos, and hanging out). She felt that Billie was only there for Greg, and was not comfortable with them being sexually intimate together, even when it was all three of them together. After a while of this - despite Lainey’s continued discomfort, disapproval, and lack of consent (which is vital for any healthy, functioning polyamorous triad) - Greg told Lainey that there would be more more boundaries, no more jealousy, and that he and Billie were going to do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted; and that if Lainey didn’t like it, then he was going to divorce her.

Naturally, terrified of losing her husband, her family, her home, her source of income, and the only lifestyle that she’d ever known - with a three-year-old in tow, and pregnant with their second child - Lainey felt forced to remain in the three-way relationship that she didn’t even want to begin with.

A quote from his video, “Onision’s Break Up Story”:

“I told my wife that there would be no more rules in the relationship. That there would be no more boundaries, no more jealousy, and that I would do what I want.”

(Source)

After this quote, Greg goes on to explain that he reassured his wife that he had no intention of leaving her; however, how could Lainey believe this, when just a few months before he had attempted to leave her for Billie, which only didn’t end up happening because Billie told him that she didn’t feel right about it? When he had threatened to leave her so many times before over much smaller and less significant things? He goes on to say this:

“Regardless, it is important to note that Billie did tell me that she thought Lainey might be upset if she and I slept together, but every time she indicated she was worried, I would remind her of the conversation I had with Lainey where I repeatedly told her there would be no more boundaries, we would all have balanced relationships, and that there would be no jealousy.”

This is an ultimatum. The reason why Lainey went to Billie to ask her not to sleep with Greg is because she already knew that he would shut her down if she tried. Ask yourself this question: for what reason would a woman feel more comfortable asking other women not to sleep with her husband, instead of just going straight to the source and simply asking her husband not to sleep with other women instead? The answer is that it’s because she already knew that he would say no and try to divorce her if she kept bringing it up. It is not unreasonable for Lainey to believe Greg capable of doing this, considering that he has admitted in the past to leaving one woman for another (when he left Skye for Shiloh in 2011):

Greg doesn’t just do this to Lainey, however; he has done this, to my knowledge, with every other woman he’s ever dated. The following is a screenshot of a portion of the letter written by Adrienne - the 26-year-old that Greg dated for three weeks just before he met Lainey - describing how Greg attempted to manipulate her through making her fear the loss of the relationship:

Later on in the same letter:

The entirety of the letter written by Adrienne can be read here. If you’re interested in understanding how Greg’s mind works, I highly recommend reading it - it is extremely insightful, analytical, and well-written.

5. Restrictive control of resources and activities enforced by induction of guilt, or fear of anger.

It’s no secret that Greg attempts to restrict the activities that his girlfriends are allowed to participate in. This ranges from the aforementioned control over how often they’re allowed to visit their families, to whether or not they’re allowed to have a job (a tactic reported by several of his exes and by Greg himself), to how often they’re allowed to go out with their friends, and even to what they are and are not allowed to eat.

In the following screenshot, a blog post by Shiloh months after they’d broken up, she details how he not only manipulated her into cutting off contact with her friends and family back home, but also convinced her to put her music career on hold so that they could be together all the time:

(You can read the full post here.)

He also talked Skye into quitting her job once he began making enough money off YouTube, with the reasoning that couples should be spending at least 50% of their time together. (I’m having trouble finding the screenshot for this, but it’s out there somewhere - I’ve seen it before.) Here is a similar screenshot, however:

He would also become extremely angry with Adrienne when she wanted to go out with her friends…

...and tried to manipulate her into quitting her job, moving in with him, and depending entirely on him as her source of income, all within three weeks of meeting her.

6. Gaslighting causes victim to doubt what they see or hear. Inability to trust own thoughts and reasoning.

When Lainey first broke up with Greg and was considering divorce after he cheated on her with Billie, she admitted that she had never even wanted a girlfriend to begin with, and that it had been Greg who was pressuring her into it…

…but later, when Lainey recounted her side of the story in a response video to the one that Billie released, she adamantly maintained that it was she who had wanted to experiment with her bisexuality - evidence that Greg had been gaslighting her into believing that he was not at fault, yet again, and that it was Lainey who had desired to keep bringing back Billie over and over again. The tweet posted in first part of this screenshot was taken only six months after the tweet in the second part:

In addition - despite having told Lainey that it was his decision to sleep with Billie, and despite having literally admitted in a video that he published on YouTube to Billie having repeatedly brought up her discomfort with going behind Lainey’s back in order to be intimate with Greg - he still managed to convince Lainey to doubt her own perceptions enough to the point where she now, to this day - over two years later - still considers Billie to be the homewrecker, and that it was Billie who cheated on her with Greg, not Greg who cheated on her with Billie. That is how manipulative he is.

During one of the periods in time when Greg and Lainey had broken up with Billie yet again, Lainey began talking to a new girl named Hailey (known online as Luxymoo). At first, Hailey believed that her relationship with Lainey would be exclusive; but after Greg informed her that the relationship would actually be an open polyamorous one, she realized that she was uncomfortable with the arrangement and decided to pull out. Despite the fact that she had every right to choose not to go through with it, Greg then attempted to gaslight her and invalidate her feelings:

After that I started doing research on what it meant to be in a three way relationship, I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t for me. Which killed me, because all I wanted to do was be with Lainey. I wanted to try for them, but at the end of the day, I had to consider my personal feelings on the matter. I knew I couldn’t be what they wanted, because I wanted Lainey.

I told Lainey as soon as I came to that conclusion. I wanted to be honest. I didn’t want to drag it out. Lainey didn’t respond to me.. but Greg did. He said that if he were in my position, he would do whatever it takes to be with Lainey. He said that I didn’t really care about Lainey, that all I was looking for was friendship. He said that he thought my mind was broken. He said he thought I may be sexually dormant. He then would say that he thinks i’m a good person and that i’m the safer alternative. He called me a good distraction.

He wanted me to still come up. But that was a fleeting thought. He said friendship would be hard, and that I was doing everything I could to avoid a relationship with Lainey. Then he pitched the idea of me being with Lainey exclusively, while he’s with Lainey exclusively. Like we wouldn’t be doing sexual things together. I still declined because 1. he had spent so much time invalidating MY feelings on the matter, attacking my personality, pressuring me, etc. and 2. I also knew that that wasn’t what they wanted, and I told him that we would still hit that road block of me wanting exclusiveness. He had said in a previous conversation that it was like him and Lainey were on an island and I had a boat, but I wouldn’t throw them a life line because I wasn’t the right boat.

(The full conversation and screenshot can be seen here.)

He also tried to use this tactic on Maya - a girl who dated Lainey very briefly in late 2017 - in an attempt to preemptively gaslight her and discredit her, should she choose to come forward with her story about what he did to her:

Which he did, in fact, try to do later on, by attempting to accuse Maya of being a “homewrecker” for “wiggling while she was sitting on his lap” (despite not mentioning that he was the one who had placed her there, which she did not consent to, and only went along with because she felt so uncomfortable). The posts detailing her full account can be found here and here.

7. Increased emotional and psychological dependence of victim on abuser.

Greg has already succeeded in doing this with Lainey and many other girlfriends in the past, and has attempted to do this to several more. When married to Skye, Greg insisted that she not have a job outside of the home because he believes that a couple should spend most of their time together (despite later claiming that spouses who do not have a job outside the home, or at least have children, are useless). After meeting Shiloh, despite the fact that she was a celebrity in Canada at the time they met, he forced her to quit her singing career and move in with him to work for and with him full-time; to this day, over seven years later, her singing career still has not recovered. Upon breaking up with Shiloh, he dated a woman named Adrienne, who he attempted to manipulate into moving in with him within three weeks of the start of their relationship - and she almost did. And likewise, when he began dating Lainey, within a month of meeting her, he had proposed to her, rented a house in the state where she lived so that she could finish high school, and then married and impregnated her within the year, so that he could groom her and keep tabs on her until she was old enough to marry.

Lainey does not have a job, and is completely financially and psychologically dependent upon Greg for not just survival, but her very sense of identity and self-worth as a person. In fact, she is so dependent on Greg as a source of ego regulation that I wrote an entire post breaking down and analyzing my impression of Lainey’s personality matrix because I was so baffled by the extent of her psychological dependency on him. You can read it here, if you’re curious (and have a lot of spare time).

8. Punishment through anger, verbal abuse, forced isolation, character assassination, etc.

When angry with ex-girlfriend Shiloh, he pushed her into a door frame, causing her to miscarry (although some people do not believe that she was pregnant, since she and Greg had once faked a pregnancy and stillbirth):

He also forced her to shave her head bald, calling her a “whore”, “his property”, and “a good bitch”:

When Billie lied to him about smoking weed, he attempted to punish her by forcing her to dye her eyebrows green, shave off her hair (the third time he has attempted to, or succeeded in, manipulating a girlfriend to shave her hair off), get an ugly tan, be chained to his basement wall for a week wearing a sign saying “I’m sorry for lying Lainey” around her neck, and tattoo “I’m a liar” in the small of her back:

When he breaks up with exes, he also slanders and demeans their character on social media. He even does this with friends, other YouTubers, and sometimes just with people - usually women - that he doesn’t like. Including myself, by the way:

Proud moment. :’)

He made a video criticizing his ex (Adrienne) for the number of sexual partners she’s had, as well as implying that her vaginal hygiene was poor, and even made a series of videos in which he went and got himself tested for various STDs in order to imply that she was so promiscuous that she could have given him one (a video which later got deleted off YouTube when he realized how many downvotes it was getting); however, you can see her reference the video in her letter here:

When he and Skye divorced, he slandered her by calling her a thief and a liar, and continued to milk sympathy from his fans by implying that he was unfairly being forced to pay alimony, even though he agreed to the amount in the settlement, and she was rightly owed that money for her part in producing his early Onision videos.

When he broke up with Billie, he said and did several things to demean her character, including calling her a drug addict, imply that she’s “less than” for being a high school dropout who lives with her parents still, and also revealed to his entire fan base that she has an eating disorder, accused her family of being drugs addicts, and that she had been sexually assaulted and had an abortion, a secret which she had previously revealed to only a handful of close friends and family:

After Blaire White called him out for his actions, he made a video calling her so many different vile names, with such vitriolic hatred in his voice, that I actually have trouble watching it all the way through. You can really see his narcissistic rage coming out in this video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lEVHT6No5Xc

He has exhibited this cycle over and over again with YouTuber Cyr, who he has been friends with off and on for years:

Most recently - meaning since I first wrote this post (about a year and a half ago) - he has continued in this pattern of slandering ex-girlfriends and ex-friends a further three or four times at least; and so this is the part of this sub-heading that will provide new information that was not included in my old post.

After Jaclyn Glenn began dating Richie of SocialRepose, Greg flew off the handle, making a series of insulting comments about Jaclyn’s physical appearance on Twitter and YouTube, including remarking that tall women are gross, and that had she been dating him, he never would have allowed her to get breast implants, because they’re disgusting (and she’s disgusting for having them):

Since she has broken up with Richie, Greg has now reverted to his attempts at love-bombing Jaclyn (and her friend Jessie Paege) on Twitter, hoping to reignite their friendship (and the possibility of bringing her into a new trinity with Lainey, or at least hoping that she’ll be able to give a boost to his YouTube career).

A few months ago, a close friend of both Greg and Lainey - model, actress, and member of the BDSM community Madison DeCambra - made a video with Greg about the DDlg (Daddy Dom/little girl) kink, which was received very poorly by the DDlg community. Feeling responsible for having hurt and contributed to the misrepresentation of the community that she loves so much, Madison posted a video on YouTube apologizing for any pain that her involvement in Greg’s video may have caused. Greg reacted to this by terminating their six-year-long friendship, as well as - predictably - going on a tirade of character assassinations against her on Twitter, including bringing her two-year-old daughter into it despite having previously accused anyone willing to bring a person’s children up during an argument of being trash.

These were the texts he sent to Madison, which he then posted publicly on Twitter in order to discard and defame her:

(Source)

Here is a screenshot of Madison arguing with TomatoBisquette (another former friend of Greg’s whom he has discarded, in his case for being friendly towards MrRepzion, a YouTuber who Greg hates for having called him out in the past), who had tried to make light of how upset she was when Greg posted on Twitter telling her that he was disgusted by her and never considered her a friend:

He also used the opportunity to take another pot-shot at Beck - a former fan of Greg and Lainey before she, too, was ousted from their lives - for defending Madi:

However, the worst part of this interaction is that he chose to bring Madison’s two-year-old daughter into the argument, just because he was angry with her mother. Here was Madison’s (understandably angry and hurt) response:

A recent addition to the roster of the Avaroe’s stable of ex-friends, Maya - a 19-year-old bartender who briefly dated Lainey, and who visited them for about a week over the Christmas holidays in 2017 - described Greg’s behavior towards her as being bizarrely, uncomfortably interested in probing her about her past. She felt that he was pressing her for information to use against her in the future, and described the odd, inappropriate expression of pleasure that would come across his face while he was listening to a person describe some misfortune that had befallen them:

It would take me ages to compile a list of all of the exes, friends, YouTubers, and other randoms that he’s demeaned on social media or in his videos, so instead I’m just going to provide a (probably incomplete, and still-growing) list of people whose characters he has assassinated on Twitter or YouTube:

Exes: Skye, Shiloh, Adrienne, Billie

Friends: Cyr, Andy Biersack (and his father), TomatoBisquette, Maya, Madison DeCambra, Beck, Jaclyn Glenn

YouTubers: Social Repose, Blaire White, Eugenia Cooney, Dan Howell, Keemstar, LeafyIsHere

Other: Ayallah (best friend of Billie, ex-girlfriend of Social Repose), Lainey’s family (father and sister), his own father, Luxymoo (Hailey)

9. Scouting new supply.

Before he had even divorced Skye, he moved on to Shiloh. When Shiloh left him and went back to Canada, he met Adrienne. When he broke up with Adrienne and she refused to take him back, he was texting Shiloh and Skye within 24 hours. When Skye, Shiloh, and Adrienne all refused to take him back, he then moved on to Lainey, who he had met and proposed marriage to within just a few short weeks of meeting. When he got bored of the ultimate power that he exerted over Lainey, he used her as queerbait to pull in Billie. When he and Lainey broke up with Billie - still bored with Lainey - he began auditioning new girls for a spot in his harem (Hailey/Luxymoo, Eryn, Maya, Sam, Beck). Here is a timeline of Greg’s known romantic relationships over the past fifteen years:

If Greg’s high school classmate is to be believed, however, then there are many, many women that Greg has been with that did not make this list.

And finally, here’s a funny, tongue-in-cheek chart chronicling the pattern of what happens when Greg and Lainey bring a new girl into the house:

Lainey doesn’t know it yet, but this entire cycle is going to begin repeating itself sooner or later. It’s just a matter of time. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were lowkey auditioning girls as I write this.

10. Acting as though nothing happened.

Need I say more?

#onision #laineybot #narcissism #npd #abuse #anti onision #anti o

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imagine-loki · 7 years ago

Text

The Powers That Be

TITLE: The Powers That Be

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Twenty-Nine

AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki discovering a hidden mutant when he realises they are at risk of being found by S.H.I.E.L.D. who experiments on mutants, he is the one to help them.

RATING: Teen and Up

“Odin’s beard.” Thor stared open-mouthed as Alexia worked the different elements together seamlessly.

“You sound somewhat surprised,” Loki commented, coming up beside his adoptive brother to watch her.

“I never thought…”

“You witnessed her actions on Midgard, just as I did, you knew before now what she is capable of.” Loki shook his head slightly in annoyance.

“Loki; this…this is…there is no manner in which I can express how incredible this is.” Thor pointed to Alexia, who was manipulating earth and water together in the form of a moat-surrounded castle; but rather than simply using only those two elements to achieve it, she also used wind to influence its shape.

“She has improved it is true.” The princes both looked to Diarmaid as he walked up beside them; he too was looking at Alexia. “But she has far to go yet.”

“I was warned to tell you,” the Light Elf looked at Thor before the prince continued. “She is not one to take comments in a ridiculing manner, she tends to rebel against them when she hears them and is inclined to cease even trying if you comment in such a manner.”

“That I have already witnessed first hand.” Diarmaid stated, “She will not do anything that she does not wish to, that is blatantly clear.”

“Starks’s better half was her employer before her coming here; she stated that Lady Alex has a talent for such things. I was also told to mention that she tends to thrive best when she is set a goal and is left to her own devices.” Thor informed him.

“So it would seem.” Diarmaid indicated to alexia, who was after altering her training to cause a mid-air whirlpool.

“This is not being done under your instruction?” Thor asked in disbelief.

“It is not, for I am not due to train her until noon today; though I must declare, I am very impressed, she does not do as well as this when she trains under me.” The trio continued to watch her train for another while before she returned the grounds to their original appearance, before turning to leave.

“Diarmaid, how long do you estimate it will take before she has completed her training?” Thor asked, turning to see both Diarmaid and Loki starting at him. “I obviously mean her basic training, I am after all, well aware that one never stops learning.” He added quickly.

The Light Elf said nothing for a moment, instead turning to look at the now empty grounds that bore no sign of the unnatural requests made of them not five minutes before. “Honestly, I cannot answer, for there is no manner in which to estimate her power. Should it have a limit, then when that is reached and then perfected, should it not, well then, Norn’s alone only know. But what I can tell you, is the best part of the next decade will be honing these three before it can be even considered that she be introduced to fire wielding.”

“But she ages so fast,” Thor stated.

“That has been noted and discussed more times than one would imagine is deemed normal. The wielder herself becomes quite upset when it is referenced, believing it to all be for naught, or indeed, questioning why to try at all, pending her mood at the time.” Thor looked to Loki, who seemed to agree with that comment. “Nothing is known yet of what will be done with regards that. A Midgardian has a horrifically short existence, and that is very much against her. Soon she will no longer be able to carry a child, meaning she will have to cease training for that to be permitted, yet she will not have reached her potential by that time, which could go against that.”

“Wait, what is this of her bearing a child?” Loki looked at Diarmaid in horror and disgust before he realized what was being implied. “He cannot be serious.”

“Loki?” The blonde looked to his younger sibling.

“Odin wants her bred, like a good mare or bitch. Dare I ask will she get a choice of the sire, will she even get a choice if she wishes to bear a child? Perhaps she wants none, for I never recall her mentioning such a wish.”

“Loki, no one can force her to have a child, that is ridiculous.” Thor dismissed. “For all we know, she could have gone to see a man right now that has taken her attentions.”

Loki looked at Thor in disbelief. “You naïve fool, of course, she can be forced, her body does not care if she consents, so long as the right set of circumstances are met.” Thor silenced. “You cannot say you would condone it.”

“Of course not.” Thor defended. “I would never have brought her here if that is the case, death would be kinder.”

“So it is agreed, this will not come to pass?” Loki placed his hand in front of him, implying that he would shake Thor's.

“If Lady Alex wishes to bear a child that is her prerogative; should she not, I will never allow it to occur non-consensually.” He agreed, taking his adoptive brother’s hand and shaking it.

“The Allfather may disagree,” Diarmaid interjected.

“In this, he is the one with no choice, not Lexi.” Loki spat back. “She is not an animal in his menagerie to be selectively bred, and I shudder to think what her opinion on the matter would be if she had had the misfortune to discover what was thought of her, I dare say all of Asgard would be under water by nightfall, and deservedly so.”

“I must warn you, Princes, that this is not just the Allfather’s request, but the request of many of influence. It is unknown how such gifts come to be, and as such, it is being requested that it be studied more.” Diarmaid began. “I cannot see how it can be dealt with without upsetting many powerful beings.”

“It will be dealt with, because should it not be, I will stand beside Lady Alex and my brother to defend her, as was done on Midgard.”

“It is decided then as to who should sire such offspring,” Loki growled angrily.

“I think a certain name has indeed come to the fore.” Diarmaid nodded solemnly. “But from what I gather, it is not one the Allfather agrees with fully; he has his eye on another suitor.”

“Suitor?” Loki scoffed, “to reference such a being as a suitor would imply that she would be wooed and happy with such an idea. There is no spell you can cast, no potion that you could conjure that could lure her willingly into such a matching if it is not of her wanting.”

“I agree, but it is not my place to argue such, my duty is to train her and hone her skills, which I will do to the best of my ability, after that, I can do no more,” Diarmaid stated, holding up his hands in a pose replicating surrender. “She will not be forced into such a union, from what I have gathered, but it will be made very clear that it is what is wanted from her.” Diarmaid bowed his head at the royals and left.

“This is very wrong.” Thor shook his head. “I fear coming here may have been a terrible decision for her if this is to be the case.”

“Nothing Odin does is without an ulterior motive,” Loki growled again.

“Loki…”

“You cannot argue this Thor, to do that to her, breed her like an animal, and how many would he have her bear, one, three, ten? Would she be permitted to care for them, mother them? Is that even what she wants? Never once did she seem to exhibit any maternal instinct, when have you witnessed her speak of such things. With the rearing she had, the manner in which she was made feel as though she was an unwanted accident, as though her conception was an inconvenience, which seems to have had a terrible lasting effect on her.” Loki ranted, furious at everything that was occurring.

“I was not aware she felt that deeply about it,” Thor mumbled.

“Why do you think she has little time for that father of hers, why she will not read his letter, do you know she does not even hold any ill against me for what…” Loki inhaled deeply, not wanting to reference the incident on Midgard concerning Agent Coulson again. “She cannot; she stated she felt nothing to suggest any resemblance of a familial bond, what does that tell you?” Thor remained silent. “This has to be stopped immediately.”

“I agree.” Thor nodded. “Norn’s that is not something I believe I would utter again to something you state.”

“Well, considering I am the brains of this outfit.” Loki gave a wolfish grin for a moment. “It will be your duty to seek who it is that is being thrust upon her and prevent his agreement also, and I will deal with containing this before she finds out.” He instructed, Thor again nodded, and turned to find Sif and the Warrior’s Three, as they would know of the goings-on of Asgard with him having been away. Loki, on the other hand, went in search of Alexia; not knowing where she would have gone after leaving the grounds, knowing that she would have to return there soon for her scheduled training with Diarmaid.

Guessing that she had gone to get something to eat, he headed to the dining room, not paying any heed to his surrounds as he did so, what he just learned playing over and over in his head, causing his anger and some bile to rise within him.

In his anger, he failed to see the wielder in one of the doorways, her face pale with the shock of what she had just overheard.

#loki #other #submission #submitted fic #chapter 29 #the powers that be #wolfpawn #discovering #mutant #hidden #risk #S.H.I.E.L.D.#experiment #help

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linkspooky · 7 years ago

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I can't help but sigh when Kaneki burned Mutsuki's letter without reading it first 😩 way to ignore the problem... Also, though Mucchan is manipulative at this point I suppose maaaybe he's really sincere in the letter? Since he used the pronoun ore (according to jaiminis box), which means the more stable(?) Mucchan

Mutsuki’s conscious stated intention is that he wants to cover for Haise and bring him home, honestly we have no reason to believe that is any less honest than his ulterior shadow motivation that was revealed as a result of Uta toying with his feelings.

The fact that Kaneki saw Mutsuki’s display of turning from affection to violence and could only come to the conclusion that Mutsuki only cared about capturing him, is even more proof that Mutsuki’s reasons are more complicated than that. If Kaneki thinks something with certainty than he’s probably definitely wrong.

I think it’s both things, sincerity mixed with Mutsuki’s own poor coping mechanism. However the one most likely at fault is Furuta, once again the symbol of the system that enables Mutsuki. There is no doubt in my mind that Furuta only offered the position because Uta told him how he feels about Sasaki, and he knows that Mutsuki will possibly go behind his back with a flimsy scheme like this that is the perfect lure for Kaneki towards a trap.

What looks like a coordinated attack between Furuta and Mutsuki is likely not, Furuta is using Mutsuki in the same way he uses the Oggai. As I’ve pointed out previously, Mutsuki’s qualities, an orphan, a product of great violence, one only saved and valued for the sake of turning him into a weapon against ghouls, heavily parallels the Oggai’s predicament already. While he sees himself as a coordinator of them and one who can use them to his advantage, he’s also pretty much indistinguishable from them.

The point is Mutsuki is not some manipulative villain figure, even if the narrative currently presents him that way. He’s a desperate child, one both equally abused and enabled by the system. His villainous acts are mainly just a grasp for agency, he’s trying to return control to his life, by forecfully resetting the chateau back to the way it was. Believing that if Haise is somehow still around, the symbol of the only stable period in his life, Mutsuki somehow will reclaim his internal stability by fixing external situations.

#metasks #Anonymous

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saferincages · 7 years ago

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gAme over: in my end is my beginning

I can’t stop thinking about that ridiculous, unsatisfying finale, and how spectacular it COULD have been had they simply planned it well in advance and timed it properly. There are so many plot holes/plot threads/red herrings/unanswered questions that I cannot even begin to address them all, and I dreamed this up fairly quickly, so I apologize that it is a very rough draft and doesn’t resolve certain things completely, but it’s a sketched out version of the way I imagine this plot being able to actually work on some level:

Alex Drake is an unhappy and unstable child, abandoned by her adoptive parents and left to fend for herself at a young age, and when she is a teenager, she decides to find out the truth about her birth parents. She steals or hacks her adoption records, discovers their names and the place of her birth, and sets out for Rosewood, PA. When she arrives, she discovers that she has both an older sister, Cece Drake, and a twin sister, Spencer Hastings. Cece has recently been released from Radley (for whatever backstory reason you want to give her, because anything would be better reasoning than her canonical reveal), and is living independently, so Alex approaches her first, assuming (correctly) that she will have less of a chance of being rejected by another lost sibling than by the parents of her twin. Though Alex is of course immediately drawn to Spencer, Cece tells her horrible things about the Hastings, along with the fact that Spencer has no idea she was adopted, and so, instead of immediately introducing herself to Spencer, she hangs back to see what her life is like.

She discovers that Spencer is close friends with a girl who is (as far as she can see) an awful bully, so she decides that the best way to immediately ingratiate herself to her twin and her twin’s friends is to remove this bully from their lives. “That Night,” she witnesses the girls’ sleepover in the barn, realizes Ali has drugged them, and takes the opportunity. She attacks Ali, hitting her over the head, meaning to frighten but not kill her - but, of course, she doesn’t know the girls all that well yet, and recognizing Ali from behind in the dark and the utter chaos of the night proves difficult. The girl she actually hit was Sara Harvey, who was simply passing through Rosewood - Melissa (also mistakenly thinking Sara was Ali), witnesses this attack and thinks she’s seeing Spencer, who is struggling with substance abuse and the mood swings and memory lapses which accompany it, murder Ali. Horrified, she approaches the body in a panic, but she sees her face, and knows it isn’t Alison. She rushes up to Ali’s room, where Ian is still waiting, and Ian (because of the NAT Club, or because Ali told him at Hilton Head, choose whichever makes more sense) has discovered that Ali has been planning to disappear, and tells Melissa she’s already gone. Ali left behind both her yellow top and her name bracelet. Melissa and Ian dress the body of the anonymous girl in Ali’s clothing, and bury her in the backyard, assuming that, should anyone find her, they will initially believe it’s Alison, and it will force her to stay away (both of them want her out of town, let’s say they’re the ones who replace her dental records and such, too), but Melissa is also attempting to cover it up to protect her sister (she does not tell Ian she witnessed the murder, and Ian assumes it’s Melissa herself who killed her, thinking she was Alison).

Alex flees back to Cece, but says nothing about what she’s done. Ali is reported missing, and Cece is wracked with grief and anger, and she tells Alex a piece of their story she’d withheld before - their connection to the DiLaurentis family. Ali is both their cousin and Cece’s good friend, as Cece spent the summer getting to know her, as an initial attempt to reforge a connection to her family. Alex, having no idea that the attack she planned was against her own cousin, cannot confess what she did, for fear of Cece’s wrath, and not wanting the only family she’s ever known to reject her and throw her out.

The girls are traumatized, and Aria’s family leaves for Iceland - all also throwing a wrench in Alex’s plan to reveal herself as their defender and become part of the group. A year passes, Aria returns, the girls begin to reforge their friendship, and Mona is -A. During this time, Cece and Alex watch and wait, for different reasons - Cece becomes more and more convinced that the girls are guilty of harming Ali that night, and wants to punish them; Alex becomes more and more obsessed with their lives, their friendship, and how “good” they seemingly have it. When Mona is admitted into Radley, Cece (knowing the place all too well due to her time there), steals the game, with Alex as her helper - disguised as Redcoat and Black Veil (Alex has to either wear the Ali mask and blond wig, or a veil over her face, because, of course, no one can know she looks exactly like Spencer). Cece’s intent is finding out what happened to Ali, but Alex has ulterior motives - she’s decided to take Spencer’s place. Cece has already begun to build the Dollhouse, thinking that kidnapping the girls will push them to tell the truth about what happened to Ali, and she and Alex devise the plan of the night in the woods with the body they fake as Toby’s, pushing Spencer to the breaking point. The plan is to put Alex in Spencer’s place while she’s in Radley, as the first step to luring and eventually abducting the rest of the girls, but a sudden twist occurs - while Spencer is in the hospital, Ali sneaks in to visit her, and Cece discovers that she’s alive.

Cece’s intentions shift, as she now wants to bring Ali home, and Alex becomes a liability. Unbeknownst to Alex, during this time, Cece has tracked down their birth mother, Mary, and Cece convinces Mary to take Alex back to London. Alex is infuriated to be taken out of the game, but goes with her mother because she wants the chance to know her. In London, she realizes Melissa (who, of course, is also her sister) has moved there, too, and she can’t give up her interest in her family or her propensity for stalking, so she watches her, and sees her with her charming British fiancee, Wren. She becomes infatuated, and eventually approaches him, as Spencer, which is the first time she’s able to test whether or not someone will believe her in her twin’s place. She convinces him not to tell anyone that she’s there, and his feelings for Spencer override logic, so he keeps quiet. By the time she finally admits her true identity (which she is forced to do when Spencer comes to London to visit Oxford), he is already in love with her, and promises to keep her secret.

Ezra has also been spying on the girls, for his ~book~ (I hate this, but want to try and keep this as close to the convoluted canon as possible, so), and Cece approaches him, saying she has additional information that could help him finish writing it, but what she really wants is to take advantage of his knowledge and clues to discover Ali’s whereabouts, which they do, when they find her in Ravenswood. All of those events can remain in place (it’s been a long time since I saw those seasons, so forgive me for being fuzzy on the details?), but the girls can still find Ali in NYC and bring her home, and of course, Mona still wouldn’t want that, leading to her “death” as Cece takes her to the Dollhouse so that she won’t expose everything Cece has done or tell the girls all that she knows.

S5, the Dollhouse, and the events subsequent to it can also essentially stay the same - Cece tells the girls a twisted version of the truth (passing herself off as Ali’s long lost older sister, not Spencer’s, to protect both Alex and Mary’s identities), and is admitted to Welby. Alex stays in London with Wren, because she’s content for the time being simply to have someone who loves her. He tries his best to help her with her delusions, her obsessions, and her rage, and she tries to give up her thoughts of Rosewood. Mary, assured of her youngest daughter’s safety, returns to Pennsylvania to keep an eye on Cece’s care, and to confront her sister and Peter for the mess they’ve made (thus, the details with Jessica’s murder also remain, but would happen a bit later in the narrative).

Five years pass, and Cece’s release is imminent, and Alex begins to become interested in returning to Rosewood and revealing herself, though Wren has qualms about it. But then, Cece is murdered. (idc about Archer, but he could feasibly still be a part of the plot, although I’d prefer him not to dupe Ali into marrying him). At this point, Alex would’ve known her older sister for something like seven years (even if she wasn’t physically with her the entire time, their bond is strong, it’s easy to assume they’d have stayed in contact even while Cece was in Welby), and she snaps - just as Cece assumed the girls must have done something to Ali on the night that started everything, Alex now assumes they must have killed her beloved sister. She wants revenge, and in her sister’s honor, she continues the game, plotting all the girls’ downfall, and determined to finally take her rightful place in the town from whence she same.

We, the audience, know of Alex’s existence from at LEAST Cece’s reveal, if not sooner, and thus the suspense of when she reveals herself to the girls builds continually, plus there could be a lot more scenes of possibly not knowing whether we’re watching the real Spencer or not, along with being able to witness scenes of Alex clearly being creepy in the background and planning her torture for the girls.

They are all targeted and taunted, but they all also actively work together to figure out who this person is, and end it once and for all. They are real participants, not sidelined and irrelevant in their final episode. A lot of S7 (especially 7B) would need to be polished and reworked, but it could have been done, and everything would still wrap back to That Night, and Alex would’ve been someone who had, indeed, been hiding in plain sight for years, rather than being a coincidental encounter in a London bar. Where Cece hated the girls and viewed them as her objects, her dolls to manipulate, Alex has developed a twisted love for them (limerence, perhaps?), she wants them to know how smart she is, how long she’s watched them and shadowed their lives, how much she deserves (in her mind) to be loved and accepted by them (this sort of retreads Mona’s motive, but then...so does everything else...but I think it might have led to the girls actually realizing that perhaps they ought to have let Mona in a bit more? idk), and if they won’t let her in for who she is, then she’ll have to take her twin’s place. Liars’ Lament has some sort of real purpose, the puzzle makes an actual picture (imagine if it was Spencer’s face, and for a moment the other four girls think Spencer is AD and spend at least an episode terrified and suspecting her, before they begin to piece together that the person who has been with them for a while...wasn’t Spencer at all). Alex uses the blueprint her sister established, intending to house Spencer underground, and there’s another cell for whomever murdered Cece, too (so, Spence and Mona would’ve been in there together, rather than Spence and Ezra, although she still could’ve kidnapped Ezra in the finale too, it’s almost irrelevant, as frustrating as that is). Spencer is abducted from the Blind School, and replaced, and Alex is masquerading in her shoes for the entirety of 7B, so the girls have many episodes to observe her odd behavior, spend time with her, and begin to unravel the final mystery, concluding with them solving the mystery and racing to rescue their missing best friend (I also would’ve had Alex die at the end, but ymmv).

You can extrapolate details from there (whether Wren helped her or not, how much Mona/Ezra/Melissa/Jenna/Jason/Ian/Wilden/Garrett/whomever knew, etc etc), but these are the primary issues it could have fixed:

Bethany, since she was ultimately meaningless, never existed, the body was always Sara, and thus Shower Harvey as we knew her isn’t in the story

Alex being Redcoat/Black Veil gives an actual reason for that enigmatic figure’s existence

The fixation on the girls’ appearances pre-Ali’s disappearance (ie: the way they were dressed in the Dollhouse, the way their game pieces were designed) was because Alex had been observing them since that time.

Cece was always a mistreated daughter, eliminating all the problematic “Charles” issues, and...there are just so many unresolved issues with her reveal that would have to be filled in differently that I honestly can’t even begin to chart them, but I know there’s a way to make her reasoning less messy.

Events of That Night, Melissa protecting Spencer (even the flashback with Spencer and the shovel being spattered in blood could’ve been explained, it was Alex), why Spencer was targeted to be broken in such a vicious way in S3 - it would all tie together (I think the lodge fire could be a puzzle piece fit into place here, too, but it’s been so long since I watched those episodes that I don’t trust my memory to make sense of it).

The motives are still a bit muddy and hinge on abandonment and feelings of scorn/loneliness/loss of family (plus mental illness), but at least there’s more clarity than...what they gave us, at least there’s a path that goes back to the start.

This doesn’t resolve things like ezrA (my ultimate favorite theory), or any other truly epic theory that has been written and analyzed in the fanbase over the years; it doesn’t fix myriad plot holes and nonsensical clues (again, a lot of which might have been written and delivered entirely differently had this been planned in a more linear fashion and had Alex been established much sooner), but I’m trying to work with what we were actually given by the writers, to see if there was a way to make it thrilling and compelling, and I’m convinced they could have, had they invested the thought and the time, and it breaks my heart that they didn’t, that they took a show that was exciting and unique and beloved by many, and made such a mess of both its mystery and of its brave, complicated heroines. I still consider their sisterhood and friendship to be important and beautiful and iconic, but the mystery should have been, too.

(Feel free to add to this with clarity and/or details if you wish!)

#pretty little liars #pll #pll theories #alex drake #pll spoilers #long post for ts #can you believe i'm so upset that i broke my streak of not writing about fandom for AGES on here to try and make sense of this #can you believe i've been too exhausted to answer messages properly for months but still felt compelled to write this out #i'm more hurt by this show than i wanted to be and i loved it so much over the past few years #but then...i could say that for a lot of shows?#i just really wanted pll to ultimately be satisfying and frightening and to make some semblance of sense

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247krp · 8 years ago

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— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Kim Seolhyun, spotted prancing about in the Southwest Side. I don’t remember seeing her with any clique back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say charming and secretive? Apparently now he spends time as a soloist at KS Star Entertainment, and keeps skeletons buried at Macheon Hill Community, 305. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, Luna; we missed you so.

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

If there was one word that could describe Kim Seolhyun, the word was lucky. She had only been in her freshmen year when Gossip Girl mysteriously disappeared, which meant Gossip Girl had little time to dig through her history. Not that Gossip Girl would pay any attention to her though, as Seol would often make sure to keep the drama around her to a minimum- she needed to of course, to make sure Gossip Girl never knew much about her. Her future depended on it.

Throughout high school, Seol was a well-liked girl. She had many surface-level friends, but none of them close enough to her for her to invite them over- or for them to know about her past and family. If she had ever wanted a boyfriend, or best friend in high school, she would’ve had a crowd to pick from. But she was never lonely. Not with her sister keeping her company. Many people knew about her sister, Kim Hyuna- they had an unbreakable bond.

If you were able to ask anyone who knew her back in high school, they would’ve described her as sweet, smart, caring, someone who would share their lunch with you if you left your lunch money at home; it’s too bad it was all a show.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

Since high school, Seolhyun hasn’t changed much. Her show personality is as bright as always- but this time, it’s luring in fans. Seol is now a soloist from KS Star Entertainment, a quite a popular one. She’s released 3 singles since she debuted back in 2014, all of them doing well on charts. To her fans and everyone she meets, she is still that sweet little girl that people described her as back in high school- except this time, she knows how to use it to her advantage. Seol has gotten much better with words, knowing what to say, and when to say them. With this new skill that she mastered, she uses it to get her way. Almost nothing she does happens without an ulterior motive.

Now that Gossip Girl is back, Seol is putting up more barriers than ever. Now that Gossip Girl is back, Seol knows she needs to keep up her show personality at all times. One slip up- and her life could be over.

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

Little Seol was born in Busan on January 3rd, 1995- Two years after her older sister, Hyuna. Their household lived in luxury- with their mother a lawyer and their father a cop. Their parents had always lectured about justice, and morals, so Seol and Hyuna grew up believing in laws and rules. With parents constantly out making money, her older sister constantly took care of her, and they formed a close bond.

Seol was a child genius. She absorbed math, science, and literature faster than a sponge absorbing water. She spent her pre-school year flying through high school level maths and science, and started reading college level books when she was 4. However, she was never quite normal. She learned how to fake a smile, fake a laugh, fake tears, at a very young age. She grew independent very quickly, only relying on her sister through times when she was lonely.

One day, in 1999, Seol’s parents had a day off. Her parents planned a day at the beach for the little girls, and 4-year-old Seol couldn’t wait. She had been running around with a bucket of sand, trying to make sand castles, when her older sister vanished in the waves. Seol hadn’t even noticed- until she saw her father rushing frantically to the ocean. Moments later, she saw the limp body of her sister being rushed to the paramedics, she felt a strong pang in her heart, but didn’t shed a tear. It was the first time she had ever felt fear. Only her sister could pull out Seol’s genuine emotions.

Ever since that day, their family was never the same. Hyuna had constant panic attacks whenever she was around water. Even showering was difficult. Seol couldn’t do anything for her sister for almost two years, before Hyuna had gotten a bit better. She still had panic attacks near the ocean, but showering and simple daily life tasks had gotten much better. But in 2008, when Seol was 13, their parents were tried of Hyuna’s constant attacks. They moved to Seoul, where they would be farther from the sea, and their parents would have better job opportunities. She breezed through the primary school there with high marks (especially chemistry)- never letting her teachers see her full potential, so they wouldn’t pressure her as much as other students.

It was late December, almost January when Seol stumbled upon something she wasn’t supposed to see. Seol had been searching around for her birthday present, knowing her parents had always hid it somewhere in the house days before her birthday. After not finding it in the usual hiding places, she went over to the safe her father told her to never open. ‘Just this once,’ She had thought, thinking of what the safe’s passcode could be. She solved it in one try- her mother’s birthday. 111070. When she opened the safe, she did find her present- but that wasn’t all. She found stacks of money, and a few documents. Curious, she read the documents and found out that in a recent investigation, one of the suspects were proven innocent, due to lack of evidence. Then, investigating her parents’ laptop, she found an unfinished document about the same case, but in the document, it stated that there was found evidence, and enough for the suspect to be proven guilty. It all clicked. Her mother and father were being bribed to let criminals go.

Infuriated, Seol told her older sister, but there was nothing they could do. Their lives felt fake. All the lectures their parents ever told them were all lies. Their parents were hypocrites. They never confronted their parents about it, or told the police. But in the winter of 2009, both parents died. The investigation showed that the father had died due to poison, and the mother died to stabbing wounds. The court closed the case with saying the father murdered the mother, then committed suicide.

Gossip girl was only active in Seol’s freshmen year, disappearing when she turned a sophomore, so she graduated in 2014 drama-free. Once out of high school, KS Star Entertainment scouted her by her looks, but she quickly showed them she was talented in singing as well as dancing, so they debuted her in 2014 as a solo artist. In the same year, her parents’ case was reopened, due to a witness speaking up about a small figure rushing into the car, but quickly closed after not finding evidence.

#247: accepted

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theroseandcrown · 4 years ago

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The Rose & Crown: Chapter Nineteen (Part One)

Rating: M Chapters: 19/24

Summary: The Doctor is on a new mission in search of clues to help him find the "end" of the paradox.

Read this story on another platform: Archive of Our Own Fan Fiction WattPad

The Garazone System, 2532

The melodic hum of the metal city was felt below her feet as Clara stepped out of the TARDIS and into the small alcove of a crowded alley. The aroma in the air was filled with the unfamiliar scent of foods she had never tasted, perfumes she had never inhaled, and people she had never met. The countless unknown species passing by took no notice of her nor the strange blue box she had emerged from as they went about their business in the populous marketplace. The continuous drone of a thousand voices pierced her ears, blending as one collective symphony. High above her head, a large rust-coloured planet was visible beyond an extensive glass-domed ceiling. An unusually thick layer of spacial storm clusters could be seen nearby.

The Doctor exited the box and closed the door behind him. Approaching her side, he slipped his hand into hers and inhaled a deep breath in preparation for their departure. Once ready, he looked to her curious expression and smiled. As many times as he had warned himself not to bring her anywhere after their last endeavour on Messaline, he couldn’t resist the look of wonder in her eyes. Little by little, he was finally winning her back. “Okay, let’s go,” he requested, keeping her close to him as they entered the fast lane of flowing pedestrians.

Her eyes worked quickly to take in every bit of their new surroundings as they manoeuvred through the endless sea of people. Her focus was redirected towards each shouting merchant as they displayed their jewels and tapestries for purchase, held strange exotic animals or offered samples of their home planet’s most popular delicacies to lure in potential customers. “Where are we?” she shouted over the chatter, trying to avoid being trampled or lost in the masses as he continued to lead her through the crowd.

“The Orion star system, Garazone Central,” he called back to her. “The largest interstellar commerce station in the known universe.”

“Please tell me you didn’t drag me halfway across the galaxy for new parts to your clockwork squirrel,” she groaned, dodging as many people as she could as they pushed their way passed them.

“Are all women this difficult to please? You take them out for a day of unlimited shopping and they assume you have an ulterior motive.”

“Okay, so why are we really here?” she asked, raising her brow suspiciously as she wondered how many shops they intended to pass before finally stopping at anything even remotely interesting.

“Information,” he answered determinedly, remaining focused on getting them through the hordes.

“Right. I’m sure it’ll look lovely hanging in my bedroom,” she frowned.

The Doctor charted every alley and shop they passed, keeping a mental note of where he parked the TARDIS in case they found themselves having to return to it very quickly. His eyes scanned each building and internal passageway housed within the large space station, gathering strategic Intel in the off-chance it would become useful to them later. Along the corridor walls, he observed various hospitable amenities: bank tellers, communication terminals, vendors, and elevators. Everything one might need to ensure their extended stay was well worth the trip. As they passed into the next alley, the lights inside the domed structure began to flicker and dim for a few moments before returning to full power.

“What was that?” she stopped suddenly, having noticed the unusual sight. Though no one else seemed to have been affected by the sudden malfunction.

“Ion storm. You learn to get used to them,” he answered, unphased by the brief darkness.

“Are we safe in here?” she asked before quickly reminding herself that wherever the Doctor was, some aspect of danger was sure to follow.

Returning to her side, he placed his arm around her waist to herd her safely through the crowd as he spoke. “I’d be more concerned with what’s out there than what’s in here,” he gestured towards the ceiling at the strange clouds forming in the surrounding space. “This station is over a century old. The first of its kind to be built with an energy shield strong enough to withstand the destructive nature of the ion storms. By the turn of the twenty-sixth-century, it had become the most successful trade-way in existence, luring hundreds of thousands of visitors and merchants since the end of the last Cyber War. Think of it as a sort of interstellar sideshow attraction. A space Route Sixty-Six.”

“So you’ve been here before then?”

“Oh yes, plenty of times. Although, not always with the same face. Comes in handy when you find yourself on the wrong end of a negotiation gone sour and banished from the market forever,” he grinned as if caught in the moment between the present and the remnants of his past escapades.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. You called them an idiot and somehow managed to get yourself arrested?”

“That was one time! And no. I called him a thieving con-artist trying to sell me a shop full of lies. Apparently, they take merchant slandering very seriously around here.”

“In other words, just a typical day for you.”

“It would take a lot more than a few hours behind bars to keep me away,” he assured her, somewhat distracted by his senses drawing him closer towards their intended destination. “Besides, I’ve learned my lesson. There’s nothing to worry about. You’ll come to find that the species here are mostly friendly... ish.”

“Ish?”

“Ah, here we are!” He stopped as his eyes became fixed on the entrance of a strange-looking establishment. The sign above the door read Otto’s Robotics in bright neon lettering. Opening the door for her, she stepped inside while he scanned the crowd for any suspicious-looking characters who might have seen them enter. Satisfied with their transparency, he proceeded inside and closed the door behind him. Taking a closer look around, he became instantly attracted to all the wonders inside as would a child in a candy store. From augmented limbs to computer circuits, it was practically a cybernetic playground just waiting to be explored.

A pair of voices originating from the front of the room brought his attention towards the shop clerk and his customer, both of which had multiple aspects of their bodies upgraded or replaced with robotic technology. A third man, whom the Doctor identified as a subspecies of the Silurian race, stood guard at a door behind the shopkeeper. The traditional battlesuit most commonly worn by his species had been replaced by a vest of furs and decorated with trophies possibly obtained in combat from previous engagements with his enemies.

Keeping a discreet but watchful eye on his companion, he continued to peruse the merchandise undisturbed as the shopkeeper assisted his other patron. Clara had taken interest in an unusually designed robotic bird sitting peacefully behind its iron cage while he stuck to examining the magnitude of small gadgets on display as they waited. His eye caught the familiar sight of an early edition electoliser, its pieces still intact. It had been so long since the last time he used one, he barely remembered how it worked. Turning it around to examine its intricate design, he was struck by an electric shock emitting from it. He winced quietly to himself and shook the pain from his hand, glancing around to see if anyone had been witness to his embarrassment. Once certain he was safe from wandering eyes, he replaced the gadget on the shelf as inconspicuously as possible. A moment later, the customer thanked the clerk for his help then proceeded to the exit. Now alone, Clara and the Doctor made their way towards the counter where the shopkeeper was eagerly awaiting them. “Your shop is quite impressive,” the old man addressed him. “The salvage industry must be fairing rather well these days.”

“If it’s parts your searching for, you’ve come to the right place. You’ll find no other collection that compares. Whatever you seek, I can procure... for the right price,” he replied, grinning towards the pair.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any money,” the Doctor confessed.

“Oh, I’m sure something else can be arranged.” He looked towards Clara and leaned over the counter to examine her with interest. “How much for the female?”

“Sorry, what?” she uttered in shock.

The old man eyed the cyborg, his brows furrowing as he stepped closer to block her from his view. He braced his hands upon the counter and glared at the man intensely. “That depends. What are you offering?” Before the man could respond, he felt the sudden shock of pain as Clara smacked him in the arm. “Ow!” he cried, holding his affliction with care as her furious expression glared back at him. He then returned his attention to the man. “I’m terribly sorry. This one appears to have developed a fault.” A moment of uneasy silence fell between the two men before they burst into laughter and shook hands with each other.

“It’s good to see you again, old friend,” the robotic man claimed.

“You haven’t aged a day,” replied the old man.

“Wait, hang on. You two know each other?” she asked, housing a dangerous combination of confusion and anger.

“Of course!” the Doctor exclaimed with a wide smile. “Otto and I go way back.”

“It’s true. I owe this man my life,” Otto claimed. “How long has it been, Doctor?”

“For you or me?”

He laughed and shook his head. “The Doctor and his infamous blue box. How is the old girl these days? Keeping you out of trouble?”

“She certainly tries,” he grinned.

“Not hard enough it would seem. Word around the city is that you’re a wanted man. I hear the reward is quite substantial for anyone who can manage to bring you in alive.”

“Yes, well, they’ll have to catch me first,” he replied brassily.

“Aye, that they would,” the clerk smiled and turned his attention towards Clara. “And who is this lovely young lass? Your better half by the look of it.”

“Ah, yes,” the Doctor confirmed, smiling sincerely at the presence of his companion despite her current agitation. Placing his arm around her, he politely urged her forward. “Clara, this is Otto. Otto, this is my Clara.”

“A pleasure, ma’am,” the cyborg nodded, studying the pair with warm regard. “So, what brings you back to this section of the solar system? Nothing of a serious matter I hope.”

“I’m looking for information. I hear you’re the man with the answers.”

“That depends entirely on the question,” he replied tenuously.

The Doctor leaned in towards the man, bringing an aspect of privacy to their conversation. “What can you tell me about the Raven?” he asked, studying the man’s expression carefully.

“Never heard of him,” Otto answered nervously.

“Oh come now. I’ve come a long way,” the Time Lord persisted. ��I’ve no intention of leaving here empty-handed. You haven’t been reconsidering the value of our trust, have you?” The reluctance displayed on his friend’s face indicated that maybe he had been away from this place for too long. “I can assure you, whatever information you give me will never leave this room. No one will ever know. Unless, of course, you’ve something to hide?” he prodded.

Before Otto could reply, the door to the street opened and a partial cyber-being entered the room to sift through the merchandise. The shopkeeper cleared his throat and leaned towards the Doctor. “This conversation is best continued behind closed doors,” he said, cocking his head towards the rear of the shop. “Follow me.” The three of them headed towards the guarded door. As they reached the large Silurian, Otto turned around and faced the pair to stop them with a stern but apologetic expression. “The girl must stay.”

The old man quickly glanced towards his companion then back at the robotic man. “Clara’s with me. Wherever I go, she goes,” he insisted.

“I’m sorry, Doctor. But women are forbidden beyond this point. I’m afraid her presence would bring… unwanted attention. I would not be able to guarantee her safety,” he admitted. Reaching up, he patted the Silurian on the shoulder and smiled. “Not to worry though. My man Flaax here will see to it that she is properly taken care of.”

“No deal. She’s my friend, not a spare part. I’m not going to just leave her in the hands of some overgrown reptile in a monkey suit-”

“It’s alright, Doctor,” she interrupted, placing her hand on his arm to stop him before he managed to say anything that would get himself in trouble again. “We’ll be fine, don’t worry about us. Now go get what we came for.”

Sighing and grumbling irritably, he pulled her aside and pointed a strict finger in her direction. “No wandering off. Stay where I can find you. If there’s trouble, you know what to do.” He couldn’t help but feel an immediate sense of regret for agreeing to abandon her in the care of someone else.

She nodded in understanding, watching as Otto opened the door and the two men disappeared behind it. Turning around, she found herself face to face with the giant lizard-beast. His green eyes glared down at her with intrigue. “So, Flaax is it?” she asked nervously. “Is there a Missus Flaax?”

The Doctor followed Otto closely as he led them through the dark narrow passage. Reaching the end, the room before them opened up to reveal a sort of back-shop repair station. A series of dimly lit supply cages created a pathway through the darkness. At first glance, there seemed to be nothing unusual or potentially dangerous about this place aside from the unpleasant odour of machine oil and sweat. The sound of metal being welded together caught his attention as he glanced towards the blue flickering light. He noticed a man wearing a metallic helmet over his face had halted his work to examine the newcomer in silence. The robotic arm resting in front of him twitched and moved its finger-like digits as if it had come alive.

As they headed towards the next room, the Doctor could hear a series of voices laughing and shouting from within. Approaching the doorway, Otto led them into a common room where several different species of large males were seated around a small table engaged in some kind of unusual card game. His presence in the room caused them to rise abruptly from their seats, their chairs dragging noisily across the floor. They silently glared at him with murderous eyes. The Doctor froze where he stood, unsure of what he had just walked into. From the dark corner of the room, a bipedal creature rushed towards him, barking and growling loudly. Startled by the noise, the Doctor stepped back as the creature quickly approached. Just before reaching him, the animal was yanked to a stop mere inches from the old man. The beast yelped and tugged at the shackle and chain around its neck which held him back. The Doctor analysed the creature from where it stood. Its body and snout covered in fur, he recognized it as a member of the canine-like species known as the Garm. Though known for its strength and gentle nature, this one appeared rabid and vengeful. Its red eyes burned fiercely as it glared him.

“He’s with me,” Otto addressed the animal. The Garm growled and sniffed the air, then retreated to the corner where only its bright red eyes could be seen through the darkness. “Come,” he requested, gesturing for the Doctor to accompany him into the next room. Though hesitant, he reluctantly followed after him if only to escape from the aggressive unwelcoming glances in his direction. Once inside, the Doctor found himself in what appeared to be a large furnished office space with a window view of the marketplace. A series of cabinets lined the wall, a desk and some chairs sat nearby. “You’ll have to excuse them, we don’t get many visitors around here,” the robotic man said, closing the door behind them.

“Can’t imagine why,” the Doctor replied facetiously. “And what of the Garm? Why are you keeping him chained to a wall?” he asked, trying to maintain his anger over the creature’s apparent captivity.

“He is no prisoner here,” Otto assured him. “He can remove his shackles whenever he wants to,” he added, heading for the cabinets and stopping at one of the shelves. “I picked him up on a trade route a while back, more like a rescue. His owner was a rare species collector. Kept him locked in a cage for most of his life.”

“Then why not set him free? Surely he’d rather be with his own kind than trapped here on this station.”

“He is free to come and go as he pleases. He chooses to stay here with me because I’m the one that saved him. He has accompanied me on numerous salvage runs over the years. I’ve given him every opportunity to find his own way but he wishes to stay by my side. It’s gratitude and loyalty that keeps him here, not ownership. A bit like your companions, wouldn’t you say?”

“It’s not the same thing,” he argued, irritated by the accusation.

“Isn’t it?” he inquired, retrieving a pair of glass goblets from their place and setting them on the surface in front of him. Locating a bottle of neon green liquid, he opened the top and began pouring its contents into one of the cups. “If you ask me, he wears the collar because it reminds him of his past. The only life he had ever known before coming here. Transition can be a very difficult process to overcome. It’s a shame. All that freedom and no idea what to do with it. I’ll admit, he’s a bit on the untamed side. But I can assure you, he’s completely harmless.” Taking up the glass, he made his way towards the Doctor. “If anything, it’s the others I’d be worried about. They’re easily threatened by strangers and quick to violence. Good for business, bad for friendships,” he confessed, offering him the drink.

“None for me, thanks. I’m on duty.”

Otto shrugged and toasted on his behalf, then sipped at the elixir and took a seat behind his desk. “So, I see you’ve traded in the notorious bachelor’s life. Congratulations, my friend. Of all the men I’ve ever met, I never thought you’d be the type to settle down.”

“Yes, I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” the Doctor replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. Seizing the moment to take a closer look around the room, he couldn’t help but notice that his friend appeared to be doing rather well for himself these days.

“She’s very attractive, your companion. I can see why you’re protective of her.”

“I owe her more than just my protection. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that she and the child’s future are in good hands.”

“This Clara of yours, she must be of great importance to risk bringing her to this place after what happened the last time you were here,” he noted, glancing out the window as if focused on a particular memory of the past. “Much has changed since then, Doctor. Nothing is sacred anymore. These are very dangerous times, my friend. If the wrong people were to discover you here, there would be nothing I could do to stop them from handing you over to higher authorities. A smarter man would have stayed away from this place, especially with a child on the way.”

“Yes, well, I’ve come to find my choices on the matter are severely limited,” he sighed, taking the vacant seat across from him. “I’m well aware that bringing her here was a calculated risk, one I have considered very carefully. Though it is good to see you, I’m afraid our visit here is not a social one. My dealings with the Raven have brought more consequence than I could have ever imagined. The day to day thrill of living the life of a fugitive on the run has long since worn off. Which is why I’ve come to you. I need your help. I need to know what you know.”

Otto observed the desperation in his friend’s eyes. Whatever had happened must have been truly severe enough to find himself in Garazone of all places looking for aid. In the past, he would have jumped at the chance to repay the Doctor for his kindness. But now, if anyone were to find out he had come to see him or was assisted in any way, he’d be tried and convicted as an accomplice. Which put himself and his business in an unfortunate predicament. “When it comes to the Raven, you can trust me when I say we have a common enemy. The army of the Shade has claimed the lives of many of my brethren, all good men. Nowhere is safe from their reach, not even here. Even now, their forces patrol this sector with intent to eliminate those in league with the rebellion against them. If you are indeed at the mercy of the Raven and his army as you say you are, then there is a good chance they already know you are here. Whatever trouble you have found yourself in, for the sake of my family, I cannot help you,” he confessed, ashamed of his cowardice.

“I see,” the Time Lord spoke disappointedly. “That is unfortunate.” Rising from his seat, he returned his hands to his pockets and slowly paced about the room. The thoughts running through his mind were entirely unlike him. The lowest point he could reach yet still leaving a small trace of his true self behind. When it came to desperate times, there was no tactic in his arsenal he wouldn’t consider. Everything he had been through thus far had brought him to this point. Every trail, every breadcrumb he followed led him here. He refused to believe he had come all this way for nothing. “How is your family, by the way? Well, I trust, since last I saw them,” he suggested, in contempt of his own indignant emotions as they began to fester inside of him. “How fortunate for you that I arrived just in time to spare them from becoming another tragedy in a war they had no part of. If it hadn’t been for me, their story would have ended ages ago. If I hadn’t intervened, their fate would have been left to someone else. Someone, perhaps, who wouldn’t have felt their lives were in need of saving.” He approached the desk and leaned his hands upon its surface. “And if you were in my position, would you do everything in your power to protect them? Would you fight for them?”

Otto eyed the old man. Though his words struck him to his core, they bore a much greater truth behind them. Without the Doctor, there would have been no family to go back to. The man standing before him was responsible for saving the most important thing this war-torn galaxy had to offer, never asking for anything in return. As long as he still lived, he would forever be gratefully indebted to him. “Aye, I would,” he professed. He ran a hand down his face and sighed deeply, knowing he was about to regret his next words. “What is it you want to know?”

“Everything. Starting with why they’re here. What is their interest in the Garazone system?”

“No one knows for sure,” he answered, downing the last bit of liquid from his glass. Rising from his seat, he headed to the cabinet and began pouring himself another drink. “This station was once under the protection of the Merchant Space Corps. Their job was to ensure all trades were legal and fair. Trafficking had become a thing of the past. There was peace here.” He turned around to face the Doctor and leaned against the cabinet. “Several years ago, the MSC was taken over by the Shade army. They managed to integrate themselves into our systems. They blended into our society as if they had been here all along. They took control over everything.”

“But why here? Why this place? What possible significance could one merchant colony have over an entire army?” the Doctor wondered, trying to piece together the information like a giant frustrating jigsaw puzzle.

“He who controls the commerce controls the people. This is the largest trade station in existence. They know what materials are coming in, they know who is buying them. Anything of use to them they seize for their own benefit, leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves. Any who refuse to abide by their laws are either taken away or slaughtered like animals. Those who were fortunate enough to escape this place took what they could and abandoned their businesses to be scavenged by the rest of us.”

“Why didn’t you leave with them? Why stay here?” he asked, angered by how bad the situation had become in his absence.

“Garazone is my home. That shop is my livelihood. All of my children and grandchildren were born here. You would ask me why I didn’t force my family into refuge, into a future that is uncertain? We are no safer out there than we are in here.”

The Doctor sighed, knowing first-hand how it felt to fear that which dwelt just beyond his blue doors. But if he didn’t find a way to stop his daughter and her destructive forces, there would be nowhere else left safe to run to. “Tell me about the rebellion.”

“There isn’t much to tell. A few attempts were made to take out their armies, to return control of the station to the people. But the Shade was always one step ahead as if they knew what was about to happen. Those in cooperation with the rebellion turned on each other, suspecting there was a spy among them. Many of its members ended up selling the names of others for profit and immunity. The rebellion quickly fell apart. Those who were convicted of treason against the Raven were taken into custody, never to be seen or heard from again. Many of those men were my friends. They were like family to me. And now they’re gone.”

“Any idea where they may have been taken?” the Doctor asked, trying to find a weakness he could work with.

“I wish I did. Ever since the purge, security has become even tighter. All I could discover about them is that the guard is switched out every four weeks. The old set goes out and a new one comes in. Like clockwork.”

“So wherever they’re taking the prisoners must be close by, located somewhere within the same solar system or a neighbouring one. At least that narrows it down a bit.” He paced and rubbed the back of his neck while trying to paint a broader picture in his mind. “The Shade, who controls them? Where do they get their orders from?”

“All transmissions come through the tower,” he answered, gesturing out the window towards a tall structure beyond the dome. “Only members of the army have access to it now. They maintain all messages from the outside. Many of us haven’t heard news from those living on the surface in months.”

The Doctor continued to pace in mild frustration as he thought about what was missing from the story. There was always some aspect left unaccounted for, some obvious clue staring him in the face. All he had to do was open his eyes. “And what about the buyers? Surely they must have ties to the outside. How do they communicate with their home planets from here?”

“The terminals. Anyone can access them. But like everything else around here, they are strictly monitored.”

The old man stopped and spun around towards his friend. “Are they hard-wired?” he asked, his expression shifting to enthusiastic curiosity.

“What?”

The Doctor approached the robotic man and took hold of his shoulders to draw his focus. “The terminals. Are they wired to the station?” he repeated, this time with urgency.

“Aye, but what does that matter? Any tampering and the Shade will be on you within minutes.”

“Trust me, that’s all I’ll need,” he assured him, releasing his friend and heading for the door.

“What are you going to do?” Otto asked, strangely confused by the sudden turn of events.

“What I always do,” the Doctor stopped and glanced towards him with a confident grin spread across his face. “I’m going to save the universe.”

“I’ve seen that look in your eyes before,” he noted, concerned his friend was about to do something very stupid. “Don’t be a fool, Doctor. You’re going to get yourself killed out there. Think of your family,” he pleaded.

The old man approached his friend once more and placed a caring hand upon his shoulder. “I may die, yes. But nothing will ever stop me from thinking about them, not even death. No matter the risk, every breath I take that pushes me forward is dedicated to them,” he replied sincerely.

Otto let out a sigh and ran a hand across his metal scalp in conflicted silence. He feared his friend was on a direct path to suicide, but going at it alone would only bring him closer to ensuring that fate. He was torn between the consequences awaiting his own life if the Doctor were to fail or living the rest of his days in regret knowing he could have helped but succumbed to his fear. Making up his mind, he reluctantly nodded in favour of his friend. “I’ll buy you some time, it’s the least I can do.”

“Goodbye, old friend,” the Doctor smiled gratefully.

“Until we meet again, Doctor,” replied the robotic man.

#dr who #dr who fan fiction #dr who fanfiction #12th doctor #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #twelfth doctor #the doctor #twelve/clara #clara oswald #whouffaldi

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myalterego302 · 6 years ago

Text

Dreamy night.......

Last night was the first night I got any real good sleep in about 4 days. My dreams were many and very Vivid. But a couple of people in a couple of things that I haven't thought about Forever came to mind.

I wanted to try or experiment with a particular type of drug particularly meth.

Where I live it is extremely difficult to come by in every time I thought I would be able to have some it always always fell through for whatever reason.

And when I was able to successfully get something it was the first time for the person I was with as well and we knew nothing about dosage whatsoever so we just thought it sucked.

The person I dreamed about knew what she was doing but underestimated my tolerance as someone who never used and was put in the position where she had to support the habits a people that were grown and not her responsibility.

She's not a bad person and I have nothing negative to say about her and have long since forgiven her for taking my money and using it in a way that it was not intended. It's actually my fault for putting myself in that position as far as I'm concerned.

I knew better but I wanted to try this drug.

She got the drugs from her cousin. She told me about a time her cousin gave her a 1-gram shot which even at the time seems like a lot but knowing what I know now it seems like suicide.

I really don't like people and in speaking with women especially who tried to support heroin and crack habits I've been exposed to some gut-wrenching stories and experiences that literally make me sick to my stomach. They make me like people last and especially like my gender not at all.

I thought I heard the worst of the worst until I heard the women's methamphetamine Diaries. That's not a real thing but it's the stories I've Been Told about what has happened to people I consider friends during their usage.

It's after the stories that I always wondered about that one gram shot. I know it was her cousin but based on the stories I've heard age and relationship does not seem to matter.

I asked her if the time do you think he had an alternative motive because the only way he would give her the shot is if she finish the entire thing. She said no. I let it go the time but I woke up dreaming about her and that one gram shot.

I dealt with her cousin directly after that going forward and he seemed like all in all he wasn't a bad guy. He admittedly used the drugs he had as a way to sleep with the women he wanted but from what I can see they all did so willingly. Is that kind of shady using someone's addiction against them. The women I know would not have been traumatized the way they are by his actions. Praying on someone because of their addictions is bad but it is not in the same universe I heard which again brought me back to wondering about that one gram shot.

She and I are not friends. She is not treated me the way that a friend would and has used me only for my money to support her habit in the habit of those around her. She is also not a bad person and I have long since forgiven her. I put myself in that position and my response was I know who she is and what she is and I will not put my self in that position again for her to take advantage of me or I'm the fool. I'm not knowingly a fool these days.

I texted her and told her to call me. I didn't tell her why because she might not have called back. If she thought she could make some money she'd call back immediately which she did.

I told her why I was calling and I asked her if she was okay. She said she's going to jail on Monday which may or may not be the truth. I kind of think she is supposed to go to jail on Monday but I know addicts. That doesn't mean she necessarily will show up.

She also claims she broke up with her dude which is not unusual. They actually do break up on a pretty regular basis and say mean awful things about one another but hey they do the same thing while they're together.

They always get back together so there's no need for me to believe that anything like this is permanent.

You don't understand, he stabbed me in my chest with a knife. I do understand because he is beating you to a bloody pulp multiple times because you didn't give him enough drugs or the drugs or he wanted drugs and every single time when you say it will never happen you all end up back together.

I've learned with other female friends first hand how that cycle goes. I also understand no one in the moment is equipped or has the ability to make what will be their permanent choice.

I would like to thank she will leave him alone because it will be better for the both of them but I also know their history. Independently and sober I don't think either one is a bad person.

She doesn't know her worth and believes the only reason he will stick around with her is based on the money and drugs she supplies. Forcing her to do things to get those money and drugs. Things he then never hesitate to throw in her face.

It's one of the most sick codependent 4 year relationships I've ever seen. Oh yeah and he's still married. He went to party with drugs and a prostitute one weekend and has not on a permanent basis been home to his wife and children since.

He does go back to his wife and child when she's out of money and his wife will provide him with that money but then my friend lures and back with money and drugs and he goes back and forth between both women who have no clue that they don't need him and would probably be better without him.

As ugly as that story is I do like people a little bit more today after talking to her.

She is okay and I believe she wants to go to jail because she knows she has to do something different. Jail does separate her from her drug of choice but often offers little in the way of treatment or coping skills. That's why I was picking my except at 4:30 in the morning at the police station after her current boyfriend knocked her out over drugs.

My ex was in treatment living at a sober house employed and doing well. Her boyfriend was in jail and absolutely believed he was drug free and would remain that way and they would take over the world once he got out.

I asked what her game plan would be when and if he relapsed. Due to no fault of his own he was not receiving treatment in prison. In my state they put drug addicts in prison and expect them to act differently once they get out because they were punished. That doesn't work so well but she refused to accept any possibility of him using it again.

I would want my significant other to believe and have faith in me the way she had faith in him and that's an awesome thing but because of that Blind Faith she did not have realistic perspective of what she was dealing with.

He relapsed and as a result she relapsed and they relapse together. She didn't listen to people and try to have and maintain their relationship within the first year of her recovery. That was a no no. She did not develop a plan for herself if he relapsed. That was a no no. She never took into consideration that he would relapse knowing her own struggles even while being treatment and going to meetings none of which he was doing.

I share these concerns with my friend going to jail and I asked her if at all possible to get treatment while she's incarcerated so she's better equipped to deal on the outside.

I hope she listens.

Her cousin did not have an ulterior motive forgetting her that high except maybe to make fun of her.

Based on what I know now and I did not know at the time she first relayed the story I knew she would have hours where she did not remember s*** and it was those hours I was worried about.

I'm glad to say there was no reason to worry. She immediately left her cousins after taking the shot with her boyfriend at the time. Yes he's an a****** but he was her a****** so even if he had taken advantage of her it would have been something she definitely would have agreed wholeheartedly to sober.

She told me she woke up at home in her bed safe and sound.

I was prepared for the used and abused story that I always hear lately. It never came thankfully.

I liked her cousin. He was far from perfect but he was young and a product unfortunately of his environment. And considering where he grew up and what he was surrounded by all in all he was definitely a nice guy.

I'm glad to find out he's not a monster.

I'm glad to find out my friend experienced no More trauma than she already has.

I'm excited that I can hate people and my gender a little less today than I did yesterday.

I almost forgot she asked me what I was doing today and explained what she rented for the weekend before she went to jail.

I am very honest and straightforward and try not to deceive anyone. I know what hanging out with you usually entails and no I don't have any money to buy you drugs but if you really just want to hang out I'm alright with that. I assured her I would not be offended based on what I told her if she changed her mind about hanging out.

She shocked the f*** out of me by saying yes she still wanted to hang out and offer to buy us something saying it wouldn't be as much as I usually spend which within itself was nice.

I'm used to being the one taking care of everyone else I have a couple of people in my corner not including her lately that have had my back when I have done nothing for them. One of them was off of Tumblr who is far as I'm concerned has every reason to hate all men including myself if she wanted to. But she totally f****** looked out for me without me ever having done anything for her twice. That was the first time ever and I appreciate it and I appreciate her and have subsequently look out for her a hundred fold but that's not the point

I will hang out with my friend. I will not consume any of her drugs. But I will provide her with a safe place where she does not have to worry about what will happen if she consumes whatever amount of drugs she chooses to.

There will be somebody to watch over her. There will be somebody to make sure she is safe. There will be somebody that make sure everything that was there before she took drugs it's going to be there when she sobers up. There will be a man there who sees her as a person and not an object and will not take advantage of her in a vulnerable state where she does not have a capacity to think clearly.

She will have a friend and maybe I made a new friend.

Maybe there is hope for Humanity

Nah, I guess that was taking it a little too far. We're all f***** and we're all f***** up

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