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sunsents · 4 years ago

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Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

#angst #hp angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley series #reader insert #harry potter fluff #harry potter fic #fred weasley imagine

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volturiwolf · 4 years ago

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Soulmates - A Demetri Volturi x Reader Imagine

A/N: This is the first imagine I finished and uploaded, and it came quite unexpectedly while talking with @volturidoll13 who suggested a Demetri Volturi one-shot where the reader would follow Bella and Alice to Italy and would accidentally say “wish he’d choke ME” out loud (see my post for reference). So, here it is. Also, I’m sorry if something doesn’t make sense. English is not my first langage. Enjoy :)

No of Words: 5749

Mentions of: Swear Language, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Dying/Death, Killings, Self-doubt, Self-consciousness, Kinky Choking, Sexual Arousal

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I think I had enough of Bella. No, I know I've had enough of her. She may be my best friend, the one who truly understood me the moment I stepped foot in Forks High School, beginning of last year, but this was just too much.

I have spent countless hours trying to support her when Edward Cullen left her, 5 months ago. I was there to be her emotional support, and even spent time with Jacob Black, an old friend of Bella's, who stayed at the Quileute reservation.

Jacob seemed kind of polite, although his attempts to flirt with Bella whenever he could were cringy, to say the least. But I supported her then too, trying to be sort of the third wheel / the one who tried to show Jacob she wasn't really interested in him that way.

His friends, Embry and Quil, were as nice and polite as they were beautiful. When Embry abandoned Jacob and Quil, Bella and I were there to support him. When Jacob abandoned Bella, I was there to support her.

Even when Bella was sad, angry and desperate to know what happened to Jacob, I was there to calm her down. I was there when she went to see him and he turned her away. I was there when she slapped Paul in the face. I was there when he turned into a huge wolf, and I couldn't help but scream.

Jacob explained everything about the wolves to both Bella and I. He told us how it's part of their DNA; how they are meant to protect the tribe from dangerous outsiders; how the metamorphosis from human to wolf can be somehow controlled over time, with practice and persistence. THAT I could understand.

What I couldn't understand was how vampires existed in this world! It wasn't Bella the one to reveal that secret to me, rather Alice, Edward's sister. Apparently, she saw Bella dying, the day she supposedly went cliff-diving, which I told her not to, having a severe fear of heights myself.

Bella took the risk, and if it weren't for Jacob, she would most likely be dead by now. That's what Alice said she "saw" - she explained to my incapable self that, as a vampire, she had a gift, the gift of predicting the future, based on others' decisions.

All this information was overwhelming me. I could swallow the harsh reality of wolves existing, but vampires, too? It seemed too much for me in such a short period of time.

Alice quickly explained some basics to me, like the fact that the Cullens were vegetarians, but the majority of their kind fed on human blood, as well as the fact that they even had a sort-of-government of vampires, residing in Italy, the Volturi.

She then turned to Bella to scold her about her recklessness and how she was prone to "life-threatening idiocy". I couldn't agree more with the short brunette right now. Bella has been nothing but reckless the last few weeks, and she was putting her life in danger for no reason.

They were talking about Edward or whatever, but I wasn't paying any particular attention until Jacob showed up. I decided to give them some space to talk, and Alice followed behind me, stepping out of the house.

Her face was a mix of disgust and worry, not paying any particular attention to me, probably trying to hear Bella and Jacob's conversation from the kitchen. After a minute or two, I heard her taking a sharp breath, her eyes fixating on nothing in particular; they were just staring ahead of her.

She took a sharp breath, as she regained consciousness, stepping quickly into the house. She walked in quite wide and quick strides, considering her miniature figure, and, though taller than her, I had some trouble following behind her.

She ran directly to the kitchen. "Bella. Bella, it's Edward. He thinks you're dead. Rosalie told him why I came here."

They both looked at Jacob; Bella practically screaming to his face, accusing him of not giving her the telephone to speak with Edward herself.

"Bella, he's going to the Volturi. He wants to die, too." The small brunette continued.

Within a minute, Bella made her decision: she was going to Italy to save her ex-lover. She promised us that she would just make sure he lived, and then, she would go back to her "boring" life.

Alice ran outside, starting her car immediately, as Bella was followed closely by Jacob, who tried to convince her not to go, pleading with her, all in vain. Bella was as stubborn as she could get, and nobody could change her mind.

I turned to Jacob, without really thinking about my next words. "Don't worry. I'll go with her. I'll make sure she's back safe, okay?"

All Jacob could do is nod at me, though his face was full of concern, frustration, and he was clearly distraught by Bella's decision to leave him and save Edward. As if all this time she, Jacob and, sometimes, I spent time together meant nothing to her.

I jumped in the back seat of the car, not waiting for either Bella's, or Alice's approval. I knew it would be a huge risk for me to go to the vampires' lair, but I also knew that Bella could use all the emotional support she could get.

As much as I hated Edward for what he did and said to her, I knew that he was everything to her, like her own little haven. Her own little oasis, which I guess felt more like a tundra, compared to Jacob's flaming hot desert. I rolled my eyes at my embarrassing thoughts, but I assumed that's how she thought of them.

The drive to the airport felt like a ton of weight crushing my shoulders. I had no place to follow them to Italy, as it was truly none of my business. But I promised Jacob, and though Bella could make me so frustrated with her lack of self-confidence and self-respect, I liked her company a lot, and I needed to make sure she was alive and safe.

In the couple of months that she came out of her apathetic state, we reconnected again, reminiscing about our unorthodox friendship, both of us being new to the town, shy and not particularly sociable.

However, Bella was the ideal friend to keep you grounded and connected with reality, which I, sometimes, had trouble with; my mind was running wild and free most of the time, while my mouth was staying shut.

So, I was willing to go across the ocean for her, to an unknown place, in a castle full of bloodsucking vampires. I wasn't pleased, but I was willing. Willing to help her save her stupid ex-boyfriend, and hopefully not get killed in the process.

During the flights, Alice tried, more or less, to explain the dynamics of the vampire world; the Volturi, being this sort of government-slash-royalty of the vampire kind, were tasked with imposing their laws over the other vampires. Their most important law? Don't expose your existence to humans, unless you want to die. Well, there goes that!

Alice had already talked to me about their kind; Bella knew through her association with both Edward and the rest of the Cullen family. The chances of any of us making out of there alive seemed slim to none. I was literally flying towards my death. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool.

I was trying to calm down my nerves, which did not work at all, when all I could think about were those Italian vampires. Alice told me that the vampire Kings, especially Aro, who seemed to be their leader, were interested in collecting talented vampires.

So, it was pretty obvious that he would, most likely, get rid of Bella and myself, and would gladly keep Alice and Edward, who, as Alice told me, has the gift of reading people’s minds. So, we were actually doing that Aro guy a favor there; bring him the “talents” and get rid of the “intruders”, the humans. Great. Just, great.

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We were currently on our way to Volterra. Alice had stolen a yellow Porsche from the airport’s parking lot, which neither Bella, nor I opposed to, for now. It was a fast way to get to Volterra, plus I’ve never actually been in a Porsche, and I felt pretty amazing. Alice seemed like a skillful driver, and drove pretty fast, which I liked, especially if I was the one driving. Bella and Alice’s conversation interrupted my thoughts.

“What? What do you see?”

“They refused him.” That was good, right?

“So..?” Bella knew there was something else behind Alice’s vision.

“He’s gonna make a scene. Show himself to the humans.” Why the hell, Edward?!

“No! When?”

“He’s gonna wait until noon, when the sun’s at its highest.” Bella seemed more and more worried and anxious, and I heard her heavy breath, which seemed like she was starting to go on panic mode. I stroked her shoulders lightly, trying to calm her down. As much as she deserved to get worried, given the events that led us here, this was not the time to panic.

“There’s Volterra.” Alice pointed to her left, at a beautiful, picturesque town that looked as if it had jumped out of the Renaissance era. The scenery of Tuscany was beautiful, and it had always been part of my bucket list to travel across Tuscany in a small rental car. That was not how I pictured that trip, or how I pictured my last day on Earth.

Alice was running through the city’s narrow streets by now, never stopping to honk at people passing by, who moved left and right, trying to avoid the “crazy driver who decided it was a good idea to drive a sports car through such a city’s small, narrow, occupied streets”; at least, that’s how I saw it.

Alice did not back down, and continued driving skillfully through the city’s small arteries. It was odd though, the fact that everyone around us was wearing red capes, red clothes, everything was red. Bella questioned it out loud and Alice informed us that today was the celebration of Saint Marcus’ Day, the day that the Saint expelled all vampires from the town. The irony.

Bella was experiencing a full on panic attack, as we were only 5 minutes away from Edward’s shenanigans. Theoretically, everything was in order, until the moment we were stopped by the local police who refused to let us go any farther. Bella opened her door. She would go on foot, to find Edward before he exposed himself. Alice would park the car somewhere outside of the town’s walls, and we’d then go and find them.

I turned around my seat, to watch Bella running through the streets, to the plaza where the clock tower, which Edward was going to expose himself from, was located. Alice left the car outside of the walls, but still, close enough to have easy access.

For me, it was quite easy to walk around now, as my skin was not sparkling like Alice’s was. Alice had to wrap herself around a coat, a long, thick scarf and gloves, and wear sunglasses to protect her identity even more. I was walking in the middle of the streets, watching around carefully, as good as my human eyes could see, trying to help Alice go unnoticed, as she pushed herself more towards the buildings’ walls, trying to avoid the sunlight.

That went on for a while, until we were close enough to the clock tower, where Alice took my hand on hers and, with long strides, walked towards the main entrance, which was, thankfully, shaded enough for her to walk through.

She must have heard the conversation inside the building, as the moment we stepped in - Alice breaking the lock that kept the door momentarily closed, she started talking to the others, who I mistook as being Bella and Edward. As another sign of my unluckiness in life, she was actually addressing two other vampires, a tall brunette and a shorter blond.

They both looked gorgeous, but they could probably kill me as easily as it was for me to blink. I instantly became stiff, and Alice must have felt it, but she kept on holding my hand, trying to play it cool in front of the others, while trying to get rid of her disguise with her free hand at the same time.

“Come on, guys. It’s a festival. You wouldn’t want to make a scene.” She tried to play it nice and cool, though I knew she was just as worried being here as the rest of us.

“We wouldn’t.” The brunette vampire responded, now looking at me, who, by now, I have lost all my confidence in coming to Italy to help Bella.

I caught the blond vampire looking me up and down my body, and felt rather self-conscious. I didn’t have the best relationship with my own body and my own self; I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror, most of the time. So, I made up for what I lacked in self-confidence with sarcasm, bad humor, honesty and snarky remarks. I would be really going off of him right now, if I wasn’t shaking.

Though beautiful, the blond vampire also scared me, just as much as his brunette partner. I stared back at him, looking at his confident stance, one hand behind his back, and a smirk across his face.

When my (Y/E/C) eyes met with his red ones, I started shivering even more, holding on Alice tighter than before. I felt my heart beating faster, my breath became both sharper and deeper, and I felt as if I would cry, right then and there, in front of everyone. I saw the blond becoming a bit stiff, his jaw clenching, swallowing deeply, but he still wouldn’t take his eyes off of me.

Alice and Edward exchanged some looks, as if they knew what was happening, but chose to not tell anyone else. The scene in front of me was interrupted by the clicks of heeled shoes, and a blonde girl came into our view.

“Enough.” Her voice was stern, and her stance was stoic as she came closer to us.

“Jane.” Edward recognised her and lowered his head towards the ground. He didn’t seem scared before, when it was just the two vampires in front of us, but the small woman now seemed to have him terrified.

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long.” She looked between the two vampires of her coven, as if she was criticizing them for their incompetence to bring us all before Aro. Then, she turned to us, looking us straight in our eyes, or rather our souls, probably to warn and scare us at the same time, before walking back to where she came from.

Alice turned towards Bella and I, the only humans there, who clearly looked more terrified than she and Edward did. “Just do as she says.” She simply said and we followed behind the girl, with the other two vampires closely behind us.

The blond one was so close to me, I could feel the coldness radiating off his body, making me shiver. The brunette gave Edward the red robe I didn’t notice he was holding before, probably to cover himself in front of the Kings. The blonde girl moved between Bella and Edward, and Alice and I. Edward was trying to comfort Bella but I couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying, my mind making all shorts of scenarios about how the vampires would kill me and the others. The more I thought about it, the more I was shriveling on Alice’s side.

We reached an elevator - I never thought vampires used elevators, but maybe it was for the humans around? The brunette and the blond entered first, as the blond turned around to stare at us, turning his gaze at me afterwards, before fully stepping in. Then, it was time for Edward and Bella to get in, followed by Alice and I. The blonde girl stepped in last, before the elevator’s doors closed shut.

The elevator music, an operetta, was supposed to calm peoples’ nerves. Yet, in this tight box, it had the opposite effect. Surrounded by vampires, vegetarian and non, the music was just creeping me out.

The fact that the blond vampire was merely two inches away from me was making my knees weak and my heart pounding, though I, myself, didn’t even know if my own body was reacting out of fear or attraction towards the blond vampire. I felt him leaning closer to me and barely heard him sniff around, but I clearly saw Alice turning her head around and giving him death stares, to which he retrieved back to his original position.

The elevator stopped and we all stepped out. We walked past a receptionist’s desk, the woman standing up, smiling and wishing us a good afternoon - based on the few Italian that I knew. From what Bella and Edward said, the receptionist was a human, wishing to become a vampire, like the others.

“And so she will be.” Demetri smirked, looking at me, who I still haven't abandoned Alice’s hand.

“Or dessert.” Jane interrupted, and I felt myself losing consciousness for a split second, before I felt the blond vampire grabbing my arm to stabilize me. His hand was cold and his grip tight on me, not leaving me even after I looked at him with wide eyes. He just smiled and continued walking ahead.

Jane opened the doors in front of her, leading us to a massive room, made out of marble, and decorated with Roman columns and scriptures on the walls. Surprisingly, it was well-lit and bright, compared to the dark halls that we passed through just a minute ago.

“Sister. Send you out to get one and you bring back two. And two halves. Such a clever girl.” A brunette boy, a bit taller than Jane, called towards her, as she walked by his side.

The blond vampire let me go and walk farther into the room, still holding Alice’s hand like I was holding on her for dear life. The blond vampire now stood a few feet behind us, next to the tall brunette one.

A black-haired vampire, who seemed a bit too excited, started walking towards us. “What a happy surprise! Bella is alive after all. Isn’t that wonderful. I love a happy ending. They are so rare.” He was talking with fake happiness in his face, as if he was reading from a script, grabbing Edward’s hand in the process.

“La tua cantante.” Your singer. The vampire seemed to know how much Edward craved Bella’s blood, and questioned how Edward could do so easily.

“Aro can read every thought I’ve ever had with one touch.” Well, that explained a lot. And now I placed who Aro was within the Volturi.

I now learned more about Edward’s gift, which was more similar to Aro’s than anyone else’s, but he couldn’t actually read Bella’s thoughts. Aro requested if he could test his own gift on Bella, probably hoping that he could read her thoughts and brag about it. But when Bella offered her hand, which he took too willingly, his face was unreadable and then, disappointed and angry, not being able to read her either.

Then, he turned towards me, still by Alice’s side. His red eyes were cold and hostile, and his face uninviting. I felt small and vulnerable, exposed, in front of his critical gaze.

“Dear (Y/N), excuse me for the waiting. Edward has presented me a very..intriguing image of you. Could you offer me your hand? I would like to get to know you, as well.”

My lips were trembling, not being able to say a word, and my eyes were glistening. Please, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. I knew that whatever Edward had shown him I couldn’t avoid. So, I took a step forward, leaving Alice’s hand and extending the other one towards Aro. I felt a breeze behind me, as Demetri came to stand on my right side, looking closely between Aro and I.

The mind reader took my hand between his hands, and I felt my thoughts being examined and tossed around my head, like a small whisper trying to cast a spell on me. The vampire looked at me, deep in the eyes, and his face was filled with fascination for whatever he saw inside my head.

“Fascinating, indeed, dear. Your mind is just filled with thoughts and images, though they are not very distinct. You are not an easy book to read. I still haven’t figured out who you really are. Although…”. He looked at the vampire standing beside me, motioning for him to give him his hand.

The blond obeyed his master. Did he have any other choice? Probably not. Aro took the blond’s hand, and his wicked, sick smile came back.

“Oh, this suddenly became even better than I would have expected.” He turned towards the vampire sitting on the throne, looking sad. Marcus? The vampire in question nodded, and Aro turned around in an almost theatrical move, with open arms, for everyone to see.

“It seems that our dear Demetri has finally found his mate in (Y/N). I’m so happy for the two of you!” His face was smiling, but his voice sounded as fake as ever.

I didn’t know what “mates” meant. Alice didn’t have enough time to explain every “vampire term” to me, so I was clueless regarding this part. The blond, who I now knew as Demetri, must have seen the confusion in my face, as he leaned slightly towards me and whispered “Soulmates” in my ear. My eyes widened and he giggled lightly.

Whether it was how close he came near me, or his giggle, or the fact that we were “soulmates”, my heart responded immediately, thumbing faster in my chest, and I felt my cheeks burn - I was clearly blushing in front of everyone, as if I couldn’t be any more awkward than I was before.

Aro interrupted my embarrassment, as he turned once again towards Bella, wanting to test if she was immune to the others’ gifts as well. He turned towards the blonde girl, Jane, asking her basically to show off her own gift. Edward ran forward to stop whatever it was going to happen, only to end up in pain, writhing in an inaudible pain, as Bella was practically screaming to stop.

I honestly didn’t mind Edward suffering, even if it was for a few seconds, considering that Bella had it worse for over 5 months. He finally dropped to the floor, as Alice ran to his side, and the blonde girl’s brother ran to grab Bella, to stop her from going by her lover’s side.

I had no idea what was happening. I was just looking around, shocked and scared, as all these unfamiliar things were taking place in front of my untrained eyes. I felt a hand stroking my arm up and down. I turned around to see Demetri smiling slightly at me, trying to calm me down. I sighed a bit and felt my heart slightly at ease.

That was until the Kings decided that Bella was a liability - I wasn’t? - and Aro called out for Felix. I turned around and saw the tall brunette smiling evilly, while the shorter brunette turned Bella around and left her there, exposed, in front of the giant. Edward seemed to know what it would be happening, as he immediately stood up and ran by Bella’s side to protect her.

He immediately ran forward, attacking the tall brunette, and knocking him down. Alice ran towards Edward to help him out, but she was immediately stopped by Demetri, who I didn’t notice had left my side, grabbing her by her neck and immobilizing her, dragging her away from ever reaching her brother.

“Alec!” Demetri shouted towards the brunette boy, who had just left Bella at Felix’s mercy, pointing towards me with his eyes. The boy, Alec, came by my side, and practically dragged me farther from the scene that took place in front of me. His grip was a bit too much as he squeezed my arm, making me slightly cry in pain. Demetri growled at him, and Alec’s grip loosened significantly, but he still kept his hand on my arm.

Felix was pissed by now, as he immediately started fighting Edward, pushing and slamming him around the room. However, I couldn’t focus my gaze on them; not because they were fast, but because I was focused on watching Demetri, and how he was still holding on Alice’s neck tightly, never letting her go.

Watching Demetri’s hand around Alice’s neck should have made me feel appalled and sorry for the small brunette girl, but it didn’t. On the contrary, I felt rather aroused, watching his strong hand wrapped around the brunette’s neck.

Honestly, I felt a wave of jealousy and annoyance hitting me. That should have been me! Only I was worthy to be touched by this sort of demon who masked his true identity with the facade of an angel. It should be me! I couldn’t help myself, my jealousy building up inside me.

“Wish he’d choke ME!” I told myself, getting more frustrated by the minute.

“Patience, cara mia. All in due time.” Demetri smirked at me. I did not realise I said that out loud, until Alec started snorting beside me, clearly laughing cheekily, and Felix started bursting in laughter, his grip tight on Edward’s jaw by now.

I had embarrassed myself in a room full of vampires once again, the majority of them being part of the Volturi coven. If the Earth opened in half and swallowed me, I would pretty much welcome it at that point.

Bella brought me back to reality, as she was practically screaming, begging the vampires to let go of Edward, as she looked clearly distraught and upset. She even offered herself instead of Edward! Why, Bella? Just why? I have understood by now that they were mates and they’d do anything for each other, but she would sacrifice her own life for Edward?! That didn’t make sense to me.

Aro seemed to agree with me, but he thought more of the “soulless monster” perspective, while I thought more of Edward’s character, and how much his absence had scarred Bella. Alice told me, on our way here, that he thought he was doing everything to keep her away just to protect her, that being close to him put her in danger. But, from my own experience with Bella, she was suffering more away from him than he thought she would.

Aro looked disappointed between Edward and Bella, wishing he would give her immortality, which he did not seem willing to do. Aro moved menacingly towards the terrified girl, prepared to end her life. I fell forwards, attempting to reach her, to move in between them, but Alec’s grip tightened, keeping me back, both of his hands on my arms now. Aro was basically licking his lips, when, suddenly, Alice stopped him.

The small brunette confirmed that Bella would become a vampire like them, and that she would even be the one to change her, as she saw in her vision. Aro called her forward, and Demetri let her walk towards his Master.

He then moved towards Alec and I, replacing the brunette boy, but, instead of grabbing my arms like Alec did, he embraced me tightly, not letting me move away from my position. His cold embrace sent shivers down my spine, but, surprisingly, I let myself relax in his arms, feeling safe, and like that was where I belonged. I felt him smiling and relaxing, as well.

Aro seemed pleased with whatever Alice had shown him, and intrigued by her own gift of predicting the future. Alice had told me that her gift was subjected to the decisions people made, and the future could just change at any point. However, if Aro believed that her vision would eventually come true, we had no reason to tell him otherwise.

Aro turned to Bella. “Your gifts will make for an intriguing immortal.” He whispered as he touched her face, Bella clearly feeling uncomfortable under his touch. I would, too - Aro seemed creepy in his own way, his behavior and movements just as unpredictable.

He then told us to leave, and prepare for Bella’s transformation, and Felix let go of Edward. Marcus told everyone that a woman named Heidi would be coming soon and thanked us “for the visit”, as Aro said his goodbyes. Demetri walked towards the exit, me still in his arms. Edward grabbed Bella by her hand and Alice followed them behind.

As we were walking through the corridor, a beautiful woman walked past us, many people - they looked like tourists - following behind her. She had long, wavy brown hair and purple eyes, which could only mean that she was most likely wearing blue contacts over her red eyes. Her aura was full of confidence and power; she knew what she was doing and she took her job seriously.

“Nice fishing, Heidi.” I heard Demetri addressing the woman from behind me. So, that was the Heidi Marcus was referring to. Wait.. Nice..what?

“Yes, they do look rather juicy.” The beautiful woman replied, eyeing between Bella and I, as she continued leading the tourists down the hallway.

Demetri must have seen her reaction, as he brought me closer to him. I was in shock, and started trembling more than before. These people, these poor people would be the vampires’ snacks in a few seconds. Like Bella and I could have been just minutes ago. I tried to not think about it, but the screams that echoed through the hall would probably haunt me for the rest of my life.

Demetri opened another door as we approached the end of the corridor, and we found ourselves back in the reception area. The Italian woman greeted us once again, but I didn’t listen to what she said, still in shock, just waiting to leave this horrible place as soon as I could.

“Just wait here. You will be able to leave in a few hours, when it’s dark outside.” Demetri instructed Edward and Alice, and took his arms away from my body, turning to look at me. “Wait here, cara mia. I’ll be back soon.” I nodded, not being able to say a word.

Demetri turned and ran towards the throne room. I knew he left to feed, and I just couldn’t bear the thought of him killing innocent humans. I couldn’t keep myself from crying, as I started trembling and losing balance.

Alice came by my side, trying to stabilize and calm me down, while Edward tried calming down a hyperventilating Bella. We were both losing our sanity, not being able to keep up with the Volturi’s lifestyle, as it seemed. I was craving Demetri’s touch but, at the same time, I couldn’t stop the human in me, the logic, the sense that said that I should stay away from the vampires who killed people.

I heard Alice and Edward talking with the receptionist, but I couldn’t make out exactly what they were talking about. Alice, slowly and carefully, with her hands still on my arms, led me to a nearby bench, as the receptionist walked away. I was rocking back and forth, trying to calm down, realizing that we are still alive. I saw the receptionist coming towards us, offering a glass of water to both Bella and I.

“Grazie mille.” I thanked her, my voice barely audible.

“Prego.” She smiled at me, and walked back towards her desk.

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I didn’t realise how much time passed, until I heard footsteps coming towards us. I was way more calm by now. Lifting my head towards the direction of the footsteps, I saw Demetri and Felix. I shyly smiled at Demetri, and he smiled back, with a smile wider than mine, a smile that warmed my heart.

“Hello, again, amore mio.” I felt as if my heart stopped for a split second upon hearing the words he used to address me. I would still be weak to my knees, if I didn't already sit down.

Felix was the one to inform us that we were allowed to go now, being way past nighttime. I stood up, and attempted to walk forward, towards Bella and the two Cullen siblings. I intended to leave with them, but I was stopped by Demetri’s hand on my wrist.

“Where are you going, cara?” He looked at me, knowing why I was attempting to walk away.

“I.. I thought we’d.. be leaving? That I’d be leaving? With the others?” At least, I was hoping I would be leaving with them.

“I’m sorry, amore. I can’t let you go, not now that I found you. You’ll be staying here, with me.” Demetri sounded so natural and serious, and I could only stare at him, my mouth agape.

“But.. I thought it was okay for me to leave. I have a life behind, you know. I have a school to finish, I have my family, I have things to do.” I still looked at him dumbfounded, waiting for him to allow me to go, just for now, just for a few months at least.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). But I cannot risk anything happening to you. I will make sure you are safe and protected here. We will arrange everything with your school and your family, and whatever else is needed. Please, stay.” Demetri’s eyes were pleading, and a shiver passed through my body, just by looking at him and hearing him talk.

It took me a few minutes to respond; nobody said a word all this time. “Okay.” I said faintly. “I will stay.. here.. with you.”

Demetri’s face lit up, and he leaned closer to me, wrapping his arms around me. He was careful to not hurt me, and I knew, at the moment, with my heart full of love and affection for that man, that that was where I was supposed to be. With Demetri. For as long as it lasted.

#demetri volturi #volturi #demetri volturi x reader #twilight #twilight saga #twilight post #twilight renessaince

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no-droids · 4 years ago

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Ch 17 was so, so, so good (thank you!!) 🥺 i am still processing. ((Edit: this turned into an essay so i Am Very Sorry in advance, there is a tldr at the end though))

First of all. We get to see Din going through it the same way sweet girl was a couple chapters ago and I love it! She’s been so clear from the start that she doesn’t want to run away from him and now Din’s getting to the point where he doesn’t want to chase her anymore because he just wants her to be physically there with him again. The second night of comms while she’s camped out at the orphanage?? “I thought this was going to be alright, but I hate it.” ??????????? i am a Puddle of Emotions no one look at me 😭

And then the way he’s so unsure about whether she hasnt begun to reconsider wanting to keep up with his bounty-hunter life now that she’s finally gotten a break if being forced to outrun a mandalorian can be really even be called a break for the first time in a year?? And he can SEE all the places she’s stopped to talk to people on this planet (his comment about the number of times the blond guy turned around to talk to her in the line? 🥺.) Din knows she’s enjoying these small encounters with people, getting to interact with a new planet and learn new things as she’s making her way through each place, and since they’re only talking at night he gets to think about it literally all day long as he follows her trail and tries to figure out what her plan is. This is truly an exercise in Din thinking nonstop about sweet girl (which ofc he does already, but like, thinking critically about what she thinks/wants/does/needs and why) and I feel like that’s causing him to slowly start to second guess himself in terms of where he would put himself on sweet girl’s list of priorities. And I wonder how much of this he’s actually considering for the first time? because it’s always him who leaves and comes back when he gets jobs — this is the first time that sweet girl has left him instead of the other way around. Sweet girl has had tons of time to think about these things, whereas Din hasn’t really had to... because it’s not the one who leaves who feels the absence most, it’s the one who’s left behind (even if just temporarily).

I can just picture Din’s increasing doubts as the chase keeps going, whether he’s worth putting up with his lifestyle and whether sweet girl wouldn’t rather have a life like the people he sees in the footprints around hers? because he knows her, knows she likes soft beds and meeting people and fresh fruit and beautiful scenery, which are all things that living on the razor crest can’t always provide except for the last one bc Din Djarin IS beautiful scenery let’s be clear and just. the ANGST. I cannot. ( a n d meanwhile sweet girl is having a breakdown thinking he wants to STOP looking and LEAVE her? As if)

So when she shuts down his tentative doubts about it on the second night she’s at the orphanage and Din starts asking questions about favorite animals and flowers and things?? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I lost it. Din is mirroring the love and care he receives from sweet girl (and learning to tap into those emotions as he does) and I am just in awe of both his character development from ch 1 to here and your ability to show that gradual shift in your writing.

Tl;dr thank you very much for this latest chapter! I will continue to be a soft emotional little puddle for the foreseeable future, or at least until I can figure out to scrape myself off the floor and function like a human being who has not just read rough day ch 17 and promptly dissolved as a direct result🌻

okay

okay first of all ma’am/sir/friend, please do not put tl;dr’s on a fucking MASTERFUL DISSECTION LIKE THAT like I genuinely hope people read every word of what you have written because you’re so spot on about everything that I was almost taken aback JEJFJJDJFJF

I would like to say, and I need to do this in list form because you have presented so many beautiful points that I’d like to address them one by one,

1.) Din Djarin is used to being alone. Full stop. Like even with sweet girl helping out with the baby and agreeing to stay on the ship while he goes and grabs quarry, he’s gone for weeks sometimes. He is used to being by himself, to fending for himself, protecting himself, patching himself up, EVERYTHING by himself. He is the most independent self-sufficient driven bounty hunter Karga has on the payroll and he’s reliable, which is why Karga would give him four pucks at a time. Giving anyone else four pucks would mean that if they happened to die during their hunts, then more than one puck would be lost and that’s money down the drain. Din doesn’t die, he always comes back with all four bodies and he’s fucking quick about it. Him telling sweet girl “I thought this was gonna be alright” is apt, because he’s been able to exist without her and do good work while he knows she’s safe on the Crest. In fact, the only time he EVER didn’t do good work is when a) she was attacked on the Crest on Corellia, or b) when he desperately wanted to get back to her as quick as possible and he pushed himself too hard and put himself in danger (aka frozen on Hoth scene). And actually c) when he stole Grogu back from the empire and had Karga and the guild on his ass about it. Those were the only times Din had trouble doing his job. The only times he stopped looking and gave up. “I thought this was going to be alright, but I hate it” means that YES ABSOLUTELY DIN DJARIN DOES NOT LIKE STAYING PUT WHILE SHE LEAVES, even though he’s okay with going out and doing his job when she stays. Even though he’s still hunting, it’s like the roles have been reversed. She’s understanding his side, and he’s understanding her side. It’s been 4 days and he hates it, so imagine weeks or months of that. Not being able to move or chase after her either, just hanging out on the crest with Grogu and waiting to see if she’ll be able to make it back. Which

2.) makes it hurt just a lil more in that wonderful delicious angsty way when he actually asks if she wants this life. On Naboo, he didn’t know where she went or where the kid was—he didn’t know if they were in danger, if she was safe. He said he’d rip the galaxy apart to find her if she ever disappeared like that again. But... she’d be safe on Sanctuary II. This is different, and just like you said, he’s had multiple days where all he did was try to think like her. Get in her head, predict her. Understand her more than he’s ever attempted to do before, in a NECESSARY capacity, like he would a bounty he’s hunting. Din Djarin is used to being alone. He’s used to being silent and that’s how connections are severed before they can even be established. His only practice at empathy was through his job, a job that he is very very good at, but it was never enough to get him to stop looking. He would never be able to empathize enough to ask if the bounty wanted him to stop looking for them. Even with the baby, he turned him in at first and then let the guilt eat him alive before going back to save him. So, if you couple that with his true connection to sweet girl, the natural empathy he has for her and the kid (him immediately following her after he accidentally snapped at her on the Crest and apologizing) and Din is now TRULY beginning to understand her on a level he’s never experienced with another person

3.) BUT!!! Even though he “needed to ask” (meaning he understood enough to know that asking the question was necessary) he started out the entire conversation by admitting he doesn’t think he could do it. Before ever telling her what specifically he doesn’t think he could do, he already knows this about himself and says it flat out. I don’t think I could. Even if you asked me to, even if you said you’d be happier if I did, even if you told me right now that it’s what you wanted, I don’t think I could ever stop looking. And a lot of the turmoil he experiences is because of that. I make you sleep on the floor. I teach you to fight when you just want to look at waterfalls. I do all these things that you’d never willingly do yourself, and I’m a bad person BECAUSE I still want you to always be here with me in spite of all that.

4.) Meanwhile sweet girl just has no fucking clue all this is happening and it seems to come out of nowhere, all she knows is that he’s been in the city when he should’ve caught up to her days ago. She’s out experiencing things and meeting new people and yet she always comes back to Din and the baby and how much they should be here with her. She tries to come up with clever ways to outthink him but she also offers to give her coordinates to him practically every single night. Her wanting to be with him so bad but trying to hold out (“ask me again tomorrow”) while Din is also wanting to be with her so bad and also trying to hold out (“find her again tomorrow”) 🥺

So yeah basically in conclusion I love them together and they’re so different but they make each other somehow both stronger and softer in so many ways and yeah u mighta heard of DD/LG u kinky fucks but lemme present to u DD/SG

#ask #anon #I am so sorry I rambled so long jshdjdjdjddh #rough day spoilers

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slumberpartysongs · 2 years ago

Text

S.O.S.F. 余命二年

Oomori Seiko - S.O.S.F. 余命二年 (S.O.S.F. Two Years Left to Live )

Tacky, Machiavellian, Troy, the Future [1] I will, I will, I will, I will Depart to my death day with a time machine If I only had two years left, I would, I would, I would, I would speed up to the point that I could finish all the things I’d left undone in two years’ time

“It’s a good thing that that’s the same way you live now” You told me that! So I'm the winner! My dream dream dream dreams Give me a big head THANKYOUADHD

Two years left to live, today I stood right under a meteor shower as dawn broke I become melancholy thinking about speed limits I don't agree with the famous depictions of sadness. Sadness doesn't disappear if you go to protests, or use hashtags, or surround yourself with people.

Love, romance, that ardor, this coda, shut up　 [1] It’s male ,it’s female, who is it? I am me.　 The person I love and the person I hate are both me I’m about to die, so I guess now’s the time to shine so bright that I could never disappear Cracking open the night

Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance Dance, danc Stance

An epic tale goes on too long, a Trojan horse, bumbling drone [1] Look into my, my, my ,my eyes, and see the hungry demons running wild, please

Immediately make everything around you into a masterpiece Picture perfect is all in my eyeballs, they’re degenerating so yank them out and throw them away And yet the very moment after that you’ll still stare Two years left to live, my visa ran out. If I'm not my songs, I'm nothing I can't get enter into your borders I spend all of my birthdays As if they’re independence day. I want to be able to comprehend history and culture, and the fireworks they shot into the sky on the night of the revolution It’s disgusting to say sorry for not understanding you I’m glad that I kept on living, cuz this really hurts Storming the city with a blitz of love [2]

Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance Dance danc Stance

I’m in a relationship, my family is kind and only annoying sometimes, and I have friends I have money, I upgraded my car and my house with a loan, but even if in my old age my pension rains down from the heavens I’d rather die now, at a time when I must always be able to feel my heart pounding in my chest Although I should have tied up all those loose ends first Thinking practically, this is all just so cold I want to be satisfied by normalcy, I want to see what it’s like to want to be happy You can get super popular by being full of emptiness I know that I’m stupid, but I want to hurt something, I want to love I want to jump off a roof, I want to destroy, I want to do all these things even if you feel the same I want to be beat up without sympathizing with the other person I want to fist fight There’s no way I can do all these things [3]

S.O.S.F　A.D.H.D　 S.O.S.F　 S.O.S.F　A.D.H.D　 S.O.S.F

Tacky, machiavellian, Traumerei Return me me me me with my time machine back to when you exist

The value of living and the reason for dying Are more than just myself [3]

NOTES

The title is a combination of the acronym SOS (used the same as in English, were it refers to a state of emergency) and SF, which is used to refer to science fiction in Japanese. In this interview she explains (rough translation): "through music you can create an outer space realm within yourself, where time flows differently and you can meet people you otherwise couldn't meet, etc...and that if your mental health is at such a point that you can create that world, you're probably constantly in a state of emergency"

(I believe I also read somewhere that the SO also refers to Seiko Oomori?)

[1] In the Japanese all these words share syllables/sound similar. In English, they do not.

[2] The word she uses here is rarely used in everyday speech, it's kind of rough yakuza language

[3] these are all the spoken word parts

#oomori seiko #seiko oomori #s.o.s.f. 余命二年 #大森靖子 #きんつぎ

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palidoozy-art · 4 years ago

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The more I think about your recent post about the changes you made to Strahd, the more I wonder about those changes you made to the others mentioned (Rahadin, Van Richten, Ireena, etc). I'd absolutely love to hear what adjustments you made as you already shared some stellar ideas already. Like the Tome? -Chef kiss- Amazing.

Oh mannn I do love talking about my campaign. I changed a lot with them. Again, weirdly enough, I think Strahd wound up being the most like his original incarnation. I could talk forever about the changes I made so I'll try to be brief haha. IT STILL WON'T BE BRIEF.

Obvious CoS spoilers below

IREENA - I thought it was weird that the picture they gave her makes her look like such a badass, and then the module just kind of writes her as a damsel in distress to either get kidnapped or pulled into water or dumped somewhere. To me, she's like, the second most important character in CoS -- and the book literally gives you less direction to roleplay her than her brother. Furthermore, reading her ending actually legit made me mad.

So I said fuck all that. Ireena in my game was a 19-year old girl who grew and developed over the course of the campaign. Several of my players actually said they thought of her as "the main character," just because she experienced a lot of character growth and development, going from a sheltered meek teenager to someone who can fight and assert herself. The biggest change I made to her though was that I very specifically did not just want her to be "Tatyana with memory loss." Ireena is a unique individual who happens to be partially made out of Tatyana's soul. While she shares many similarities with Tatyana, they're separate people, and part of what Ireena has to grapple with is how to live up to that. She's in the post-campaign because of that distinction -- while Sergei offered her to join him, she declined, because she wants to experience life past her twenties. I didn't get to play it out because we were kind of rushing towards the end, but I honestly envisioned a scene where she talks to the portrait of Tatyana, apologizing to her because she knows she's being selfish remaining alive.

This also brings up a unique problem in the post campaign. If Ireena dies, she ceases to exist and may not be able to be resurrected. When her soul leaves her body, it's Tatyana's again. Ireena very much wants to live. Tatyana doesn't. A resurrection has to be made with the consent of the soul, and if Tatyana declines, Ireena's just... gone. Forever.

Related: because I wasn't sure what my players would ask, and Rahadin would absolutely know this information -- there have been 18 incarnations of Tatyana, including the original. I actually have a timeline of when they were all born and how they died. The curse manifests in that they always die or are killed before their 25th birthday. If Strahd attempts to marry them, they lose their minds and throw themselves off of the same balcony the original Tatyana jumped off of during the ceremony. Strahd can never have Tatyana. Vampyr will ensure of that.

But yeah, essentially: Ireena gained actual class levels; she wasn't just Tatyana with memory loss; she traveled with the party for 90% of the campaign and wasn't just a macguffin to be kidnapped/take to places; and I removed any of the "Sergei takes her into water/the sky and you never see her again" endings because I absolutely hated those.

VAN RICHTEN - Van Richten I tweaked a lot from his original incarnation. First, I started him off as Lawful Neutral. No, game, I know you tell me he's Lawful Good, but I'm gonna have to disagree with you that "training a racist tiger to genocide an ethnic camp" falls under the spectrum of Lawful Good. Second, I changed him from cleric to artificer (alchemist). I somehow just got the impression the dude was a godless man, and so he felt more fitting to be a man of science rather than a man of the church. Third, since I wasn't sure the other dread domains were ever going to be brought into 5e I moved him out of Darkon and into another world from the outside.

His backstory was also tied more into Strahd and the campaign in general, as well as the Dark Powers. About 30 years ago, he went into the mists with his own adventuring party (that included Escher) to try to rescue his kidnapped son, Erasmus. He found his son half-turned and begging him for death. Killing him, Van Richten hunted down the Vistani woman (Ezmerelda's mother) who sold the man, and in a rage strangled her to death. This gave him a curse. Ezmerelda witnessed it happen.

He went on a warpath against vampire spawn and vistani alike, until Strahd proposed a deal to Escher. Escher lured the group to a familiar dinner date with Strahd... only for Strahd to murder all of them, including Van Richten. Van Richten was approached by a dark power -- Vaund the Evasive, and given the option to return to life in exchange for the promise that Van Richten would eventually return to Amber Temple and free him. He took it, waking up outside of Barovia. From there he became famed vampire-hunter-book-author, until in his early 50's he decided it was time to seek vengeance and fulfill his promise. He brought in his hat of disguise, came up with an alibi, and headed into Barovia as Rictavio the Great.

He was absolutely played as a much more morally grey character at the start (the party's first encounter with him rather than Rictavio was him literally torturing a dude). He softened over the course of the campaign as he grew attached to the party, until finally reaching a point in the post-campaign where he's considered Lawful Good

Also: Ezmerelda was treated more or less as his adoptive daughter. She absolutely argued against this every single time, but he even slipped up and referred to her as his daughter on a few tense occasions.

RAHADIN - Rahadin I adjusted a lot, too. A LOOOOOOT. Strahd being comically evil makes sense -- the dude is a darklord, that kind of comes with the territory. With Rahadin, I wanted him to have more motivations to his actions, because the base game actually suggests that the dude is actually capable of caring. In the base game, you can find him at Amber Temple, trying to "petition the dark god into releasing his master from his torment." He screams in grief if he finds Strahd dead. Furthermore it felt like the game glosses over the fact that the dude was adopted as Barov's son. It doesn't bother addressing how Rahadin felt about Sergei, who would in theory be his other brother. I thought a number of things suggested in his backstory were interesting, but not expanded upon in the base game. So I took it upon myself to do so.

I changed how dusk elf society was built, which affected the three major dusk elf characters. It worked off of a pretty brutal caste system, with three kings at the top overseeing all of it. Rahadin was born in a lower caste, but actually brought into the warrior caste after a member of royalty was intrigued by his stature. Rahadin worked as a general, but grew frustrated by the inefficiencies of the caste system and its inequality. He started attempting to use his influence to petition other members of nobility into changing or loosening the strict system.

Patrina caught wind of this, and viewing it as a threat to her lifestyle + viewing it as an easy way to gain brownie points with those above her... tattled on him to the three kings, spinning what he was doing as treason. Rahadin was arrested and subsequently tortured. They attempted to execute him on a breaking wheel, breaking his bones against the spokes and leaving him in the town square as an example. He wound up escaping, crawling his way out of town until he was subsequently rescued by a group of human monks. The event pretty much broke him, morally. He went to Barov soon after and sold his people out, taking a personal hand in helping annihilate the dusk elves and conquering their land. Barov was so impressed by the man's loyalty that he adopted him as his son.

Part of this was done to make a connection as to why the hell Rahadin just absolutely fuckin' hates Patrina so much (since that definitely got played up during the campaign). When thinking of Rahadin's motivations, I tried to come at it from the angle that this man was evil... but legitimately cared deeply about Strahd, Sergei, and Tatyana. He was devestated from the events of the wedding, but saw Strahd's return as a second chance. As the lone surviving witness from the wedding, he desperately wanted to help the three of them. But his own blind loyalty to Strahd and his broken moral compass prevented him from doing so.

One of my favorite little additions was a sidequest I offered to the players (they wanted to redeem Rahadin). They were requested by him to retrieve (well, "not destroy or sell") one of his most precious belongings in his office. When they get there... it turns out it's a birthday card and a worn-out old amulet from Sergei and Tatyana that he's kept after all these years. They got Ireena to read the letter to him, to help him keep going after Strahd's death.

anyway i could ramble on about changes forever but i don't want this post to get too long haha. i have. many feelings. over this campaign. maybe at some point I'll do a separate post with some of the others.

i also kinda wanna do a comic of an event from Rahadin's backstory for my players but we'll see, I might deem it "too stupid."

#palidoozy rambles #curse of strahd #curse of strahd spoilers #cos #cos spoilers #WARNING IT LONG #I HAVE MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THESE THREE CHARACTERS

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Pacemaker

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Let me be clear: this is a very dark narrative. I have lots of warnings for my readers, including explicit smut, vulgar language, toxic relationships, voyeurism, choking, sadism, smoking, and drinking.

Word Count: 8.2K

Genre: Sugar Daddy AU; Established Relationship

Summary: Y/N had made a lot of bad decisions throughout her life, but signing up for that stupid Sugar Daddy website? The worst of them all.

A/N: The title makes more sense in the end, but I can tell you that pacemaker’s are used to control arrhythmia's - and Seungmin might just function that way for the reader! Also, I’m really sorry for making Chan such an asshole.

Seungmin was a good best friend, even if he was determined to ruin his lungs with expensive cancer sticks.

I had once tried to help him break the bad habit - stealing the cigarette boxes that he bought from the store and tossing them into the trash. But Seungmin made it rather difficult to break his addiction, and when I found him digging through the trash one evening, trembling fingers bringing the lighter up to his lips, I stopped trying to help him. And it might seem like a shitty thing for a best friend to abandon, but I was really tired of seeing my efforts die in vain when Seungmin made it loud and clear that he wasn’t willing to relent.

However, I was probably the worst person in the world to preach against his vices, especially when mine were far more consequential. Ironically, if I was to compare our biggest slights, then I might find a lot of similarities between our horrible habits. For instance, we were both prisoners to something toxic, and it was hard to push out those dark shadows when they had already snuffed out most of the light.

But at least Seungmin still had some control over his autonomy whereas I had allowed a single man to dictate every aspect of my existence. He decided the clothes that I would wear to his fancy office, and the things that I was allowed to do to my own person. He enacted so many rules that I could barely keep up with them, and he frequently reminded me that I was supposed to comply with whatever he demanded because I signed a foolish contract.

In the end, it was my fault for becoming so involved, but I could always rely on Seungmin for companionship when I felt another bout of existential dread. Because Seungmin was a good listener, and he made an effort to understand my problems even when he didn’t agree with my decisions. It was one of the things that I liked most about him, and I watched him with indifferent eyes as he stomped out his cigarette against the sidewalk.

Thereafter, his breath vaporized against the frigid air, and it was the only reminder that it was cold because my body had already grown numb to the sensation. “What happened this time?” Seungmin asked, raising a brow in question.

It was a deceivingly simple question because there was no straightforward answer that I could offer him in response. Instead, I shrugged while trying to collect my thoughts. Because I still wasn’t really sure how I felt about my latest rendezvous with him, but I knew for certain that it had affected me more than the other times.

“It was different,” I replied, and Seungmin nodded.

“Did he hurt you?” Seungmin asked.

“Yes, but not the kind of hurt that you’re thinking about,” I said.

“Well, that’s still fucked up,” Seungmin said. “Tell me everything.”

Oh, but there was so much to tell him, and my mind instantly brought me back to the very beginning when I signed my name on a contract that promised so much only to deliver nothing but pain.

Six Months Ago

The worst decision of my life was predicated on my desperation for cash, and I was almost at the point where I would do anything to see another zero on my bank statement.

When I first moved to California, I had a lot of big dreams, and I was so excited to secure a scholarship to a highly-accredited University. It seemed that the world was finally on my side, and I left my home on the east coast to start a new life with more opportunities. Everything was going according to plan, and there was nothing preventing my success.

Except for me, of course.

And it happened during the events of a single evening when I decided to attend a fraternity party on campus that my roommate recommended. The music was loud, the alcohol was unlimited, and any prior inhibitions had been thrown out the window much to my own detriment. I forgot all about my responsibilities, and I made one careless decision after another until I ended up in bed with a stranger.

I don’t even remember his name, but he was just one of the students who got busted by the police that night. Apparently, someone next door ratted us out, and they discovered a bunch of under-age students drinking alcohol without any supervision, including myself. But when the University found out, my scholarship was taken away, and my parents refused to send me extra money for tuition because they were determined to bring me back home.

But I wasn’t about to let one night ruin everything, and it was my roommate’s idea to suggest the stupid website. “It’s like a Sugar Daddy thing,” my roommate giggled. “All you have to do is sign-up, and then they’ll email you if there’s any interest.”

“Interest?”

“Well, they’ll probably want something from you in exchange for money.”

“How much money?”

“I guess that’s up to you to decide.”

Tragically, I was too desperate to consider the consequences, and I signed up without even thinking about the potential for disaster. And within a week, I got several emails from old misers offering me loads of cash in exchange for services that ranged from a private escort request to more explicit favors. But none of them stood out to me, especially in comparison to the young CEO who claimed to only be 28-years-old, but I could hardly believe his profile.

Still, I decided to entertain him, and I organized a meeting at a neutral location just in case anything funny happened. But I was still shocked to see the same man from the pictures waiting for me inside the coffee shop. And he was just as handsome as he appeared online: long, curly blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and a broad smile that took my breath away.

“Y/N?” he asked when I cautiously approached the table.

“Mr. Bang Chan?” I returned, and he laughed while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal strong, muscular arms.

“That’s me,” he said. “You can sit down if you want.”

“Of course,” I said, feeling rather foolish after standing there for so long. “I’m sorry, but I was really surprised because I honestly thought you might by lying about your age.”

“Why would you think that?” he asked, and I easily detected an accent carrying his words.

“Uh, considering the circumstances,” I said with a wince. “I feel like you could have any woman you want.”

“Oh?” Chan asked while raising one brow suggestively. “Maybe I just want you.”

“R-really?” I stuttered while wondering if I had made a good decision when I wore a skirt that afternoon. “You can probably tell that I’ve never done this before.”

“That’s alright,” Chan reassured me. “I don’t have much experience either.”

It seemed too good to be true - like there wasn’t any logical explanation for why this incredibly sexy businessman had signed up for some Sugar Daddy website when all he had to do was blink in my direction and I was already falling for him hard. “So, I guess you expect something from me.”

“I like how you do business,” Chan remarked. “We can skip all the formalities, then?”

“If you want,” I said, still feeling a bit sheepish as I glanced down at the table.

“From you, Y/N,” Chan continued. “I want a partner.”

“In what sense?” I asked. “Are you talking about something...sexual?”

“I’d really like that,” Chan said with a seductive smile. “But only if you’re interested.”

“Definitely,” I quickly agreed, throwing all caution to the wind as I surrendered to his ridiculous charisma.

“In return, you can have whatever you want,” Chan said. “Money isn’t an issue for me.”

“I really just need money for my tuition.”

“Is that all?” Chan scoffed as if he was in disbelief. “There’s got to be something else.”

I hesitated for a moment, wondering why it was so hard to ask him for those extravagances when the entire premise of our meeting rested on the basis of one exchange for another. “My apartment,” I said. “I plan to get a job in the future, but I’m struggling with rent.”

“Fuck the job,” Chan said. “I don’t mind paying your rent.” He smirked as he leaned back against the booth with a sigh. “I used to be a college student, Y/N, and I had problems paying for those things too.”

His attitude was nothing but nonchalant, and our terms were settled without a single complaint. Eventually, the deal was finalized when I met him later that evening at his lavish penthouse apartment, signing my name at the bottom of an exclusive contract that I hadn’t even taken the time to read.

“It’s done,” Chan declared, and I watched his forearms bulge as he applied pressure to the official stamp. “We can have some fun together,” he added, and the look he gave me was nothing short of predatory. “Tell me, Y/N. Are you a virgin?”

“No, sir,” I said, watching him throw the contract aside onto the coffee table.

“Good,” he purred while slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “Do you take birth control? I hate fucking with condoms.”

“Yes,” I whispered, and there wasn’t an ounce of shame in my entire being when I studied the hard planes of his upper torso once his chest was exposed to the room.

Did I really just a sign a deal with a real-life Adonis?

“I’m gonna have a taste of that sweet cunt tonight,” Chan said, and one hand palmed himself over the front of his pants. “Bend over the couch for me, and keep your legs spread.”

“O-okay,” I agreed, hesitating because I wasn’t expecting him to move so fast, but I also knew that it was a foolish thought. What else should I have anticipated? There’s only one thing he wanted from me, and it’s not like it proceeded a romantic dinner or a long walk on the beach.

But it was still jarring to feel someone else’s hands on my hips - someone older and far more experienced. And his hands were proof of that confidence, perfectly assured in their motions as they drug my panties down my legs, fingers prodding against the folds of my labia. “You’re not wet enough,” Chan remarked, and I blushed because I was afraid that I had been doing something wrong. “We’ll just use lube.”

I flinched when I heard a loud POP! echo throughout the room when he opened a bottle from behind me. Then, I startled when something cold penetrated between my thighs because I wasn’t used to the overbearing sensation, and the flex of his fingers were incredibly thorough as they explored the private walls stretched around his intrusion. It felt nice, though, feeling him moving around, brushing against sensitive zones that had me moaning against the cushions.

“What a good slut,” Chan said, and I found myself whimpering at the derogatory term. “Let me use my cock instead.”

I gasped when his fingers disappeared in the middle of my approaching orgasm, leaving me clenching desperately for something to fill up the places that had left empty. But the sound of Chan shuffling out of his pants was reassuring, and he was nothing but teasing when he slid the head of his cock up and down my entrance. Spreading his pre-cum while prodding against me with the tip of his erection.

If I hadn’t been wet before, then I was positively drenching from the surprisingly playful foreplay. “Please,” I whined, and he must’ve been feeling merciful since it was our first meeting because he pushed himself the rest of the way inside between my walls with a grunt. Satisfying that persistent ache which demanded some sort of satisfaction from the fat cock splitting me with every aggressive plunge against my g-spot.

“There we go,” Chan hissed, and his fingernails dug into my skin while he rolled my hips back onto his cock - repeating the motion with a sensual rhythm that was slow but fulfilling. Deep and full. Pounding into my hips with every thrust and chanting obscenities into the air while the smell of sex hit me with as much force as his thighs knocking against mine. “Feels so good around me.”

I moaned at his husky tone, and slid further down the armrest of the couch because my clit was rubbing deliciously against the furniture that he had bent me over, and I focused on the addicting friction and the impression of his cock drilling inside my pussy until I came with a loud moan.

“Shit,” Chan cursed when I clenched even tighter around him, and the pleasure was like a dramatic rise - a climactic high - and I fell back into the moment with my heart pounding against my chest while Chan continued to plummet his cock into the stimulated entrance of my cunt before I felt his cum trickle down the inside of my legs.

“Good girl,” Chan said, and he landed a sharp slap to my ass before he was walking out of the room, stuffing his cock back into his pants while I looked down at my hands and wondered what I was supposed to do next.

And several long minutes passed before I realized that Chan wasn’t coming back, and I tried to ignore the sensation of his cum drying on my skin as I pulled my skirt back on over my sore hips.

Is this how it would be every time?

I grimaced at the thought, but I knew it was still a better alternative than returning home to my disappointed parents. Because Chan would at least help me stay in school, and he wasn’t really asking for that much in return.

Right?

But my heart was aching when I left his penthouse around midnight, returning to the shared apartment with my roommate and slinking into the shower while doing my best to remain quiet. Unfortunately, my thoughts were starting to become more rampant - louder than the prevailing silence - and I couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter with Chan. Because it was the second time that a random stranger had fucked me without consideration, and I would never forget how I felt in that moment, scalding my skin under hot water while scrubbing insistently with my fingernails scratching across my arms.

And I went to sleep that night thinking about the future for the first time since I lost my scholarship. For instance, how long would I have to keep doing this? Can it really end after my graduation?

Needless to say, I was unable to reacquaint myself with the familiar comforts of sleep, and I woke-up the next morning feeling like a much weaker version of myself. It was both a literal and metaphorical description for my current state of mind and physical being, and I forced myself to endure my regular routine so that I could leave for class on time.

But even as I was starting to feel better again, savoring the cool air of the morning as I walked through campus, everything was ruined when I received an unanticipated phone call from Chan around lunchtime:

“Can you come into my office today?” Chan asked, and I checked my watch.

“I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Perfect,” Chan said, and I hung up the phone before jogging to the bus stop.

The Voyeur

Chan’s office building was extravagant, and I had trouble finding his company because it seemed like there was no end to the numerous corridors. Thankfully, a polite worker was willing to steer me in the right direction, and I greeted Chan’s secretary with a nervous exhale of my name.

“He’s waiting for you inside,” she said with a bright smile. “But make sure to lock the door behind you.”

“Oh, sure,” I said, puzzled by the strange request, but I entered the room with a dismissive shrug, glancing back to turn the lock before stumbling in my steps when I realized that someone who was not Chan stood in the middle of the room.

He was a younger associate, and his hair was slicked back with some kind of product as he observed me with the faintest hint of a smirk. “You must be Chan’s newest plaything.”

I gasped at the stranger’s words. “Chan-” I attempted to call for him, but cold fingers wrapped themselves around my throat in warning.

“Shhh,” Chan whispered into my ear, and I trembled when one of his hands went down to the waistband of my skirt. “You’re right on time, Y/N.”

“Sir,” I said, trembling when he found my clit through the fabric, applying rough circles with a growl.

“Go sit on top of the desk for me,” Chan said. “Take off your skit and panties.”

“But there’s someone else-”

“Did you not hear me?” Chan interrupted, and there was an intimidating warning in his eyes that I found myself unable to ignore.

“Yes, sir,” I said in compliance, and I tried not to think about the situation unfolding in front of me. Instead, I carefully walked around the unfamiliar man without making eye contact, even though his gaze was focused on me the entire time. “Is this what you wanted me to see?” the newcomer asked, and I startled at the sound of his voice as I slipped out of my clothes.

“I think she’s your type,” Chan said, and he nonchalantly strolled through the room with his hands tucked into his pockets. “This is what you like, Jisung? Sit back and relax.”

Jisung pursed his lips as he found a comfortable position on one of the futons, and I gasped when I realized that he had unzipped his pants, fishing out his cock while casually stroking the full length of his erection, gaze fixed on the place where Chan was standing in front of me.

“Bend over, whore,” Chan growled, and I turned around in an instant, shivering when he forced my legs to spread even further apart, applying pressure to my lower back as I arched even higher for him. “Have you ever seen a prettier cunt?”

“Finger her for me,” Jisung requested, and I closed my eyes when Chan penetrated three fingers inside at once. Because it was a distant shout from his treatment the previous night, and I found myself enduring the pain from being aggressively handled.

“Is this to your satisfaction?” Chan asked, and he was moving lightning fast, thrusting his fingers so fast that my body wasn’t sure how to process the rapidly growing pressure building with every curl of his wrist.

“Fuck her then,” Jisung said, and I could hear the slick sound of his hand moving on his cock to match the pace of Chan’s motions inside of me.

“No problem,” Chan said, and his cock replaced his fingers with one harsh plunge, forcing my hips to collide with the side of his desk as he started an unrelenting pace, hands holding tight to my waist as he treated me as nothing more than his personal cock-sleeve.

My pleasure wasn’t a concern, and I could tell because he never once asked me if I was feeling good. Instead, he panted like a dog into my ears, groping along my chest while rolling his hips up into mine - grinding his cock as deep as he could manage.

“Chan...” I trailed off at one point because there would surely be bruises once he was done with me.

“Is there a problem, Y/N?” he asked, and I quickly shook my head even as he started thrusting even harder, forcing his cock even deeper inside my gaping core - brushing against previously untouched places that awakened something almost feral.

“No, sir,” I managed, choking around a moan when his fingers tightened around my throat again.

“He likes to watch,” Chan whispered, slowing down to a sensual grind while he spoke to me. “It gets him off every time.”

“I didn’t know,” I said in return, even though no response was really warranted.

Especially when Chan leaned back once again, picking up from where he had left off from before, and there was a stuttered hiccup to the way he moved - like he was nearing his own breaking point. His fingers curled themselves into my hair, forcing my head to the side to meet Jisung’s unwavering gaze.

“Jisung,” Chan said, and the voyeur himself looked up at the two of us with lust reflecting in his eyes. “Is it everything you wanted?”

“Keep going,” Jisung simply said in return, and Chan was laughing in the moments preceding his orgasm, spilling his seed between my convulsing walls before pulling out with a groan.

“You did good, Y/N,” Chan said, and he reached down for my discarded skirt.

Meanwhile, I glanced around Chan to see Jisung reaching for the tissue box on the table. “Thank you for the show, Mr. Bang.” Jisung said, and he cleaned off his cock before tucking himself back into his jeans.

The Sadist

That unexpected situation should’ve been the first and only sign required for me to break off the engagement with Bang Chan, but I was starting to grow addicted to the ostentatious gifts that he sent me.

Because on that same afternoon, I returned to my apartment to find a brand new SUV waiting for me outside my complex. It was the newest model, and my roommate was hysterical with excitement as she jumped around the front lawn and told me all about how a random man had brought the car to our apartment asking for me.

“I don’t know who you’re seeing,” my roommate remarked. “But if he keeps doing this kind of thing...”

“Yeah,” I agreed with a faint smile, and there was still an active part of me that thought I could put up with Chan if it meant receiving things like this in return.

Plus, I somehow deluded myself into thinking that everything was fine, and I guess my lectures on argumentative writing must’ve worked too well because I convinced my stubborn brain to endure the arrangement for a little while longer.

It also helped that Chan hadn’t spoken to me much in the week following our little date in his office, and I was able to forget about the encounter with Jisung. Plus, my tuition was paid, my bank account was full, and there were always expensive things allowing me to take advantage of a lavish lifestyle.

It was hard to argue against the current trajectory of my situation, but there was still a painful reminder of its price when Chan eventually called me the following Friday with another request:

“I’m having a guest over tonight,” Chan said. “And you’re the entertainment.”

I swallowed hard at his brusque tone. “Entertainment?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Chan reassured me, and I could only process his words while the dial tone played in the background.

But maybe I could handle the addition of a guest, especially if it was just Jisung or someone watching again. That hadn’t been so bad, and the worst part was the initial shock of seeing another man in the same room.

Maybe I was just overreacting, and this would be a regular night where Chan would fuck me in his bed and I would limp home and sleep on the brand new satin comforter he had bought for me.

Unfortunately, my initial enthusiasm was dulled when I knocked on the door to Chan’s penthouse, and he answered my summons with another man lingering in the background. But the other man wasn’t Jisung, and a single chill rolled down my spine when Chan’s guest turned around to look at me for the very first time. “You’re early,” Chan said with a pleasant smile. “We were just pouring ourselves some drinks.”

“That sounds nice,” I said, allowing Chan to take my coat before he led me into the living room.

“This is my associate, Lee Minho,” Chan said, nodding in the direction of the freshly identified man who was unreasonably handsome as he sat down across the room.

“The pleasure is mine,” Minho said with a smirk, and I had no words to match his arrogance, but Chan pulled me into his lap and I took some strange comfort from his embrace.

“Minho and I have been friends for years.”

“What a tragedy,” Minho remarked, and the simple jest was met with a chuckle from Chan who wrapped an arm around my waist.

“He was really excited to meet you as well.”

“Especially after listening to Jisung run his mouth,” Minho said, and I froze at the mention of the other man because that was the moment when everything started to plummet, and I could see the change in Minho’s gaze as he lowered his eyes to my chest.

“Can I see her tits?” Minho asked, holding his glass of scotch in one hand while the other disappeared down the front of his pants.

“Of course,” Chan said, and he didn’t seem to care at all about his friend’s vulgar request, pulling me back against his chest as his fingers worked apart the buttons on my blouse. “She doesn’t mind. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

I shook my head, paralyzed by Minho’s impenetrable gaze as he inhaled sharply when Chan removed the shirt from my arms. “Those are nice.”

“Aren’t they?” Chan agreed, and his fingers tweaked my nipples. But I shivered at the pressure, nearly jumping in his lap from the sudden stimulation as his thumbs rolled across the hardening buds.

“You ever fucked them before?” Minho asked, parting his lips around the rim of his glass.

“No,” Chan said, and his tone reflected his disappointment. “I guess I’ll have to try that in the future.”

“They’re a good size,” Minho remarked, and I couldn’t help but feel humiliated because they were talking about me in such a vulgar manner - like I was just a piece of meat on display for them.

“I like her tits,” Chan agreed. “But I think her ass is my favorite.”

Minho scoffed at that. “Isn’t that always your preference?”

“Why do you think I like fucking her from behind?” Chan laughed, and Minho smiled before draining the rest of his alcohol.

“Where did you get her?” Minho asked, and I watched as he removed his expensive suit jacket.

“Do you remember that website Jisung showed me?” Chan smirked. “It’s probably the best idea that he’s ever had.”

“Mhmm,” Minho agreed, and his lecherous eyes continued to openly stare at my breasts. “Has Changbin seen her yet?”

“No,” Chan said, and then he sighed. “I’m afraid to introduce them.”

“She’s exactly his type,” Minho remarked. “He’ll want to fuck her for sure, and I doubt you’ll tell him no.”

“He’s convincing,” Chan said, and he smirked while his lips pressed wet kisses against my neck and his hands massaged my breasts. “What would you want to do with her?”

“Me?” Minho chuckled, and his dark eyes were appraising. “I’d probably fuck her mouth, and then maybe cum on her tits.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Chan said, and then he was shoving against me from behind. “Get on your knees,” Chan growled into my ear, and I shivered at the guttural sound before falling from his lap and into the floor.

Meanwhile, Minho continued to watch me while stroking his cock, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “Is this an invitation?”

“Take her mouth,” Chan said, and he reached out for his discarded glass of brandy. “I don’t think she’ll mind.”

Minho smirked in response, and he pulled the occupied hand from his pants long enough to stand up from the couch, taking another step forward until his crotch was level with my face. “Is that true, little girl?” Minho asked, and I held my tongue when his fingers traced across my lips. “Do you want to suck my cock?”

I could feel Chan’s eyes on me, and I knew better than to disobey. “Yes,” I whispered, and Minho closed his eyes around a groan.

“Channie picked a good little cocksucker,” he said, and he quickly undid his pants, pulling them down his thighs along with his boxers. I inhaled when his cock was freed from the confines of his underwear, slapping against his stomach with a bead of pre-cum waiting on the tip. “Go ahead,” Minho said. “Let’s see what you can do for me.”

I swallowed hard, and I decided to start with a few strokes of his hardening erection - feeling the length of him under my hand because I knew that it would be painful to fit him inside my mouth. “Don’t tease,” Chan said, and I shivered at his harsh tone.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I decided not to waste another moment before I was parting my lips around the head of Minho’s cock, tasting the gathered pre-cum on his tip. It was bitter because it was overwhelming, and my jaw was already aching as I hollowed my cheeks and tried to prevent my teeth from scraping across the sensitive underside of his erection.

“Harder,” Minho growled, and he reached down to grab fistfuls of my hair while forcing the remainder of his cock down my throat - triggering my gag reflex with the sudden motion.

“I guess she’s not used to it,” Chan remarked - like it wasn’t a big deal that I could barely breathe around the intrusion, and spit was dripping from my lips as he proceeded to use me like I was nothing more than a warm space to fill with his cock.

“I’ll teach her for you,” Minho said, but it wasn’t a kindness to feel the tip of his cock hit the soft palate of my mouth, dragging between my lips as he ground his hips while moaning around a curse.

But I still tried my best, sucking at the skin and using my tongue to trace against the ridges. I also kept my hands firmly behind my back, trying my best not to reach out for his thighs because I was afraid that he wouldn’t appreciate the feeling of my nails digging into my skin. Not that he seemed to be extending the same courtesy - fucking my mouth with loud grunts and tugging on my hair with enough force that my scalp was screaming for me to intervene.

“Does it feel good?” Chan asked.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Minho said, and his eyes were glossy from the alcohol settling into his system and the approaching orgasm which I could taste as I tried my best to swallow around him.

And it was almost disorienting when he pulled himself free, keeping one hand in my hair while the other stared to stroke the length of his erection with rapid jerks. “Look at me,” Minho growled, and I forced my gaze to meet his own. “I’m gonna cum on your tits,” Minho snarled, twisting my hair as I did my best to nod around the impossible hold.

“Shit, that’s hot,” Chan whispered, and I closed my eyes when Minho finally came, spraying his hot cum across my chest as his thighs trembled from the effort.

“Damn,” Minho said, and he took a strategic step back to survey me from afar. “She looks better this way.”

“I definitely agree,” Chan said, but I only felt disgusting as I sat there on my knees with their eyes observing my wilted figure.

The Participant

For an entire week after my encounter with Minho, every time I spoke, or did something as simple as drink or eat with my friends, I was reminded of him.

It wasn’t necessarily the worst thing that had ever happened to me, and I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that had been aroused at the idea of Minho’s rough treatment. But the problem emerged from the lack of disclosure from Chan because he seemed to take impressive liberties with the contract. And I didn’t mind having sex with the older man since I gave him my full consent, but these surprises that he sprung on me when I wasn’t expecting them? I wasn’t entirely happy about those.

In fact, the more that I thought about the incident with both Minho and Jisung, the more infuriated I became, and I couldn’t help the brusque tone that I used to greet Chan over the phone when he randomly contacted me the following weekend.

“Someone’s having a bad day,” Chan said, and I didn’t appreciate his accompanying laughter.

“It’s just my classes,” I offered as a response, pinching the bridge of my nose to try and prevent an oncoming headache.

“I hope it’s not too bad because I’d like for you to meet me in the office,” Chan said, and I agreed without really thinking about the consequences. Because the last time I went to Chan’s office, I found myself being fucked on top of his desk with an executive watching in the background.

But I guess this was what I had literally signed up for, and Chan couldn’t possibly know that I hated our most recent encounters because I still wasn’t able to find the confidence to tell him. And maybe it was better this way since our arrangement was nothing but a superficial agreement between two consenting adults - we were both getting something out of it, and I didn’t want to risk losing the invaluable funding that he sent to my stunningly healthy bank account.

Instead, I put on my best smile for him when I walked into his office, greeting him at his Secretary’s desk as she offered me a courteous welcome. Does she know what’s going on? I wondered to myself when Chan took my hand and led me to the giant executive desk where he worked.

He chuckled when he patted his lap, and I dropped my bag onto the floor before dropping myself down between his strong thighs. “There you are,” Chan said with a smirk, tracing the pout of my lips with his thumb. “You look sexy today.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I hated to sound so timid in front of him, but he was still beyond intimidating, and I never knew what to expect from someone who continued to surprise me.

“I’ve missed you,” Chan said, and I hesitated when his hands found the hem of my t-shirt, crawling along the skin of my torso to hold me in place. “Last time was really fun.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, but it wasn’t very convincing. Thankfully, Chan didn’t seem to notice, and he brought me in for a sloppy kiss so that I could taste the mouth wash on his tongue.

“Let’s take a walk around the office,” Chan said, and I agreed because it seemed relatively normal in comparison to what he usually asked from me.

It was also startling domestic to hold his hand as he walked me through the maze of cubicles, talking about taxes and the stock market and whatever else he found interesting. In response to most of his conversation, I found myself nodding because I couldn’t comprehend his big text jargon or the complicated explanation when it involved his return on investment numbers.

“How about some lunch?” Chan suggested, and I agreed even though my stomach had twisted itself into knots during the ride over here.

However, when Chan reached out to hit the button to call for the elevator, he paused when he made eye-contact with someone walking out of the conference room. He sighed as he turned me around. “This is awkward,” Chan said, and I noticed that the tips of his ears were bright red. “I may have shown Changbin some pictures of you and....” Chan trailed off with a smile. “He really liked what I showed him.”

“Changbin?” I questioned, and Chan jerked his head to the side to indicate the exceedingly handsome gentleman who was lingering outside of the conference room with his eyes glued in our direction.

“Changbin really likes you,” Chan whispered, smiling as he allowed one hand to fall down and palm my ass.

I heard a sharp intake of breath, and I felt my entire face flush when I realized that it had come from Changbin. He was brazenly eye-fucking me from where he was standing, and I couldn’t even imagine the dirty thoughts running through his mind.

“He wants to fuck you,” Chan continued as if we were having a conversation about something as casual as the weather. “And I kinda want to see him pound this little pussy.”

He then audaciously cupped the heat between my legs and I squirmed around in his arms because we were in public. “What are you doing?” I asked, and there was every reason to panic when anyone could see us like this - when Changbin was already looking at us like we were incredibly interesting.

“He’s got a really big cock,” Chan added like that was supposed to convince me. “But I know that you’ll do it for me, right?”

I hesitated at his request, glancing back over my shoulder at Changbin who was still watching the two of us with a predatory gaze. “When?”

“Tonight,” Chan said before pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to my lips. “I’ll have something nice sent to your apartment. Wear it for us, won’t you?”

“Of course,” I agreed, and the response sounded robotic even to my own ears.

True to his word, Chan had sent over a rather scandalous pair of lingerie to my apartment - a matching set of underwear that included a red thong and delicate bralette with lace elegantly lining the comfortable padding. There was also a very short black shirt in the package and a thin camisole which wasn’t meant to cover much of me. And I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror when I realized that I looked like someone out of Chan’s wet dream.

But instead of walking through campus with such an appearance, I had wrapped my scantily-clad form in a long coat when I greeted Chan that night outside of his apartment, hoping that he wouldn’t question my desire to ride the bus in something more appropriate for public viewing. But maybe he was too turned on to scold me, dragging me inside his apartment and closing the door before opening the front of my coat.

“Fuck,” he growled when he saw me in my outfit. “You look so good in this.”

“Thank you,” I whispered in return, and Chan tossed aside my coat while reaching down for my hand.

“There’s no reason to delay tonight’s fun,” he commented. “Changbin’s already waiting in the bedroom,” he said.

I swallowed hard the mention of the other man, trying to piece together my disorganized thoughts when Chan invited me inside the lavish bedroom that was the exact same size as my entire apartment. But I also wasn’t surprised by the ostentatious reminder of his tremendous wealth, especially when I realized that there was someone waiting inside just as Chan had promised. The same man from earlier at the office was sitting in a chair near the corner of the room, dressed in his work suit and looking at me from beneath a fringe of blonde hair while his fingers tightened around his whisky glass.

“You were so patient, Bin,” Chan remarked as he reached down to remove his shirt.

“I think she’s worth it,” Changbin replied, and I tried not to squirm too much under his impenetrable gaze.

“What do you think of her outfit?” Chan asked, and he smirked while squeezing my ass through the skit.

“I’d rather see what’s underneath,” Changbin said, and his attitude was so nonchalant that I couldn’t deny that a small part of me was attracted to his eagerness.

“That can be arranged,” Chan agreed, and I held perfectly still as he removed my tank top before jerking my skirt down my thighs.

He didn’t even need to tell me to step out of the offending piece of fabric, sliding it across the floor as I stood in front of Changbin in nothing more than the skimpy lingerie that Chan had chosen for me. “Damn,” Changbin grumbled, and one hand slid down his chest before settling on top of the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Shall we start?” Chan grinned, and I watched as he walked over to the bed to make himself more comfortable on top of the mattress before holding out his arms for me. “Come here, Y/N.”

I nodded, crawling over the silken sheets while Chan whispered compliments into the silent bedroom. “She’s so fucking hot,” Changbin remarked, and I held my breath when Chan used his raw strength to turn me around - bringing my back flush against his chest as one arm wrapped itself across my chest. I shivered in response to his impressive muscles, pressing myself even closer to him while his other hand crept down to remove my panties

“Look at this,” Chan whispered, ripping the fabric and exposing my bottom half for Changbin’s eyes. “Such a pretty cunt.”

Changbin inhaled sharply at the exposed skin, and he stood from the chair to walk over the edge of the bed. I closed my eyes because he was shameless, palming his erection over his pants while his eyes glued themselves between my thighs. “Spread her legs for me.”

Chan nodded, and I could feel the way his fingers parted the wet folds of my labia before he drug his thumb along my sensitive clitoris.

“Oh, fuck,” Changbin growled, and his eyes were bright with lust as Chan continued to tease my throbbing sex while mouthing kisses against my throat.

“Do you see something you like?” Chan asked his friend as if the question was even necessary.

“Let me fuck her, Chan,” Changbin snarled, and I watched as he unzipped his suit pants before dropping them to the floor along with his boxer shorts, fisting his cock in one hand while the other worked at the buttons on his shirt.

“I don’t know...” Chan trailed off with a teasing tone. “I’m not really in the mood to share.”

“We both know that's a lie,” Changbin said with a humorless laugh. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

I bit my tongue to hold back a moan when one of Chan’s fingers penetrated my tight walls, putting on a show for Changbin as he maintained eye contact with his business partner. It was like they were engaged in some sort of competition over me, and I was melting from Chan’s ministrations, feeling him move around with his fingers curling against all the right spots. He also started to scissor his fingers to stretch me out in preparation for whatever else might happen, and Changbin whimpered as he continued to stroke his hand up and down the impressive length of his throbbing cock.

“I guess you can have it,” Chan said, and I yelped when he shoved me off his lap, tossing his legs over the side of the bed. “Hands and knees,” Chan barked, slapping my ass for good measure before he walked over to the same chair in the corner of the room. “You’ll be a good slut for Changbin.”

I whimpered at the rough treatment, and I tried to avoid Changbin’s gaze as I positioned myself on the center of the bed, dropping down onto my forearms while I raised my ass high in the air. I was breathing hard against the sheets, feeling my pulse skyrocket when the bed dipped beneath Changbin’s weight as he mounted me from behind.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, and I shook my head when he started to grope my ass, pulling apart my cheeks as his fingers prodded against the dripping entrance to my cunt. “Say my name, slut!”

I nearly screamed from the force of the slap he landed on my ass, and I took a deep breath to manage the pain. “Please, Changbin,” I sniffled, and there was nothing but blinding hot pleasure when he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down my slit.

However, he wasn’t nearly as patient as Chan, and I was shaking around the abrupt intrusion of his cock. He also wasn’t gentle, holding my hips with a bruising grip before he fucked his cock inside my wet heat, leaving me no room to breathe before he was driving his hips against mine like there wasn’t enough time in the world to split me open for him. “Shit,” Changbin hissed, and I was powerless when he shoved my face down into the pillows, forcing me back into an even deeper arch.

“Play nice, Bin,” Chan said, and I could barely spot him from the corner of my eye. “You know I don’t like it when you break my toys.”

“Can’t help it,” Changbin grunted, and I could feel the fat head of his cock brushing against my cervix.

“She feels good right?” Chan asked, and I finally located him, following his voice to see that he was rubbing his erection through the tented fabric of his pants.

“Her cunt is tight,” Changbin agreed, and he wasn’t even thrusting anymore; instead, he was manhandling me up and down his cock, slamming his hips against mine and filling the room with the sounds of wet slaps and crude moans as he chased his own pleasure.

He was fucking me like a madman, breath hot on the back of my neck. Everything was fast and hard, and the sound of the headboard hitting the wall was especially loud. “Fuck,” Changbin muttered, and I thought he might be slowing down, but he just adjusted his grip and set a brutal pace and fucked me even harder.

It was all too much, and I wasn’t expecting to come, but when he lifted one of my legs for a better angle, I felt a sudden wave of arousal drip around Changbin’s thick erection because he was scraping across my G-spot with every stroke. I moaned at the direct stimulation, and it felt like there was an impossible pressure building at the center of my abdomen, stretching and stretching until my vision nearly blacked out from the intensity of my orgasm.

“Yes!” Changbin groaned when I inadvertently squeezed around his cock even tighter, providing enough pressure to trigger his own orgasm. And I could feel his warm cum as it decorated the cavern of my pussy, escaping the place where we were connected with a squelching sound when he eventually pulled out.

“What a mess,” Chan groaned.

“Such a good little whore,” Changbin purred, reaching down to stuff his cum back inside where it belonged. I whined at the over-stimulation, but Changbin growled in response and slapped my ass hard. “I want one more round,” Changbin declared, leaving me lying on the bed as he rolled over to the side.

“Sure,” Chan agreed, and I felt his hand soothing along the side of my face as he wiped away my tears. “How long do you need to get it back up, old man?”

“Shut up,” Changbin muttered. “Give me ten minutes.”

‘Well, that’s all I need,” Chan remarked, and I whimpered when he took his turn to mount me from behind, twisting his fingers into my hair as he slid his cock inside with one hard thrust, grinding his hips in long, sensual circles while whispering the filthiest words into my ears.

Present

It wasn’t very much like me to reveal all those intimate secrets, but something about Seungmin’s presence was safe and comforting. “What an asshole,” Seungmin remarked, discarding a fresh cigarette that he hadn’t even bothered lighting before returning his attention to me. “You deserve so much better than him.”

“He pays for everything,” I said. “He pays for my tuition, and he sends checks for the rent...”

“So?” Seungmin scoffed. “I can help you get a job at the diner where I work. You can make enough money to pay for those things without him.”

“It’s just so hard...” I broke off with a sudden exclamation, and my emotions were spilling out despite my attempts to suppress them, holding Seungmin even closer by the collar of his jacket as I sobbed into his shoulder. “He owns me.”

“No, he doesn’t, Y/N,” Seungmin said with a firm tone. “Do you understand me?”

I shook my head. “I signed a contract!”

“Every contract has a loophole,” Seungmin said. “And I’m sure it expires at some point, or you can negotiate your way out of the terms!”

“He’s a businessman,” I argued. “There’s no way I can win.”

“Not with that attitude,” Seungmin said with a fierce look. “You’re not alone, Y/N. I’ll even help you figure out how to leave him, but that’s what you need to do because this relationship is not good for you!”

“I kept telling myself that I didn’t care,” I whispered, sighing when Seungmin carded his fingers through my hair. “I guess I cared too much.”

“It’s alright,” Seungmin said, holding me close as he spoke reassurances into my stubborn ears.

“I’m scared, Seungmin,” I told him, and he nodded.

“I’ll give you all my strength,” he promised, and the sincerity of his words triggered a fresh wave of tears, and I cried while thinking about the difficult situation that I found myself in.

The idea of Chan’s arrangement had once been enchanting because everything he promised seemed like a dream come true. But the reality was nothing short of a nightmare. And I was suddenly desperate to escape.

#stayracha #skzwriternet #skzsmutnetwork #chan smut #chan fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #stray kids chan #stray kids chan fanfic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #mostlycompetent #requested

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kim-ruzek · 3 years ago

Text

The unit beyond Hank Voight: or, why Hailey being corrupted and/or changed isn't unique or special to only her. (Part One)

This is a meta that's split into two parts. There's this, which is an introductory one, really, that addresses who Voight is and why the greater fandom opinion of him is misunderstood. Setting up for part two: how life for Intelligence should be if/when Voight is written out. Because this is a topic I think people miss the nuance on as well.

Enjoy!

There's been a lot of talk on whether or not Voight, in this time, should really be the face of Intelligence. I, personally, do think no. I get why he first became it, and I get why he still is and in many ways I appreciate it. He's not the kind of cop this world should have, even in the eighties and whatnot, but he is-- especially for Chicago-- a "good" cop. Please take that word with a grain of salt, there's not a precise word in the English language which sums his mix of good and bad in the way he is-- even "morally grey", to me, does not quite describe him.

The world does not exist in a vacuum. We'd love it to, because then it makes life so much more simpler, and it's easy to act as if life does. But the truth of the matter, the world is not a vacuum, everything is complex and messy and grey. And so our shows aren't in a vacuum either, even if they try to be-- which, for the most part, Chicago pd tries not to act like they are, unlike so many shows.

It's very easy to boil things down to being black and white, good and bad, pure and evil. This is human, and something humans have been doing for years. But the world is nuanced, and to ignore that is to misunderstand what life itself is.

Setting a show in Chicago, especially a police show, was always going to be a complicated thing. And there's always going to things they exaggerated and things they overlook, but at the end of the day, Dick Wolf did a rather good job at getting the complexities. I'm not going to go into all he didn't quite get, especially as it's not my place too, it's just my place to look into this myself and learn, and this is not the point of this meta. And because at the end of the day-- it is a show.

Voight isn't morally bad, or good. He's this mix, a man who did bad things to try and get a good outcome. And it's the age old debate-- is doing the wrong thing for the right reasons morally good or bad? I think it's neither, something more complicated but either way you stand, you can't say it's cut and dry. Because it's not.

And I don't even think he's someone who does the wrong things for the right reasons, because that's too simplistic and doesn't show the full picture. What Voight wants is the outcome, and he'll do the wrong things for all the wrong reasons to get it. He'll even do the right things for the wrong reasons and vice versa.

We don't know how our actions are cosmically tallied, that's why we have our own beliefs. And we can want him to not be the lead for those beliefs, but we also need to be true. We need to look at everything, the whole picture and assess it that way-- we cannot just pick and choose.

And that's what a lot of fans are doing. And I hate that, because it's not fair to what makes humans humans. In a way, I don't even care about Voight, but this lack of understanding is what normalises some things, normalises demonising behaviours in your own peers that should be understood.

Media has an impact of real life, not just in what it shows but how the consumers respond to it, and some of this fandoms responses annoys me-- but the thing that pushed me to make this, is that it can sicken me because it's misunderstanding what life is.

I do not like Voight's policing style. It is outdated and it never should've been allowed and honestly, that first scene in the cage nearly made me not watch this show. If I wasn't going in already in love with Burzek, I probably would've stopped.

But you cannot say that he does not care. He does. Chicago is his city, and he cares about it in the way anyone employed by the city should. Everything bad thing he has done is for the city, to make it better. His methodology is not good, and it is counterproductive because it relies on the city being how broken it is. But it does do good, and he does that because he loves the city.

And he cares about the cops he works with. Not just his unit, but everyone. His unit has become his family-- the people he puts first-- over the years but even before then, he cared. In a way, it was very blue line type of way, but in a good sort of way. Still flawed, because he'd protect them in a way he wouldn't others, but much better than peers his own age. This should be appreciated, even in it's flaws-- because if you're going to judge him, take everything into account.

Voight is a bad man, in how he's achieved his outcomes. But he is not a bad man because he's an abuser. He cares, and he should not be emulated but he cares. And he is not a fucking abuser.

To get to the my starting point-- Hailey being changed or "corrupted" by Voight is not special or unique to her.

I see a lot of people saying he manipulated Hailey. And that shooting of Roy-- yeah. There was no way Roy was ever going to get out there alive, but Hailey is not blameless in that. Everyone has been telling her who Hank Voight is from day one, and she dug in her heels and thought she understood that, yet when it came to it-- when she went into that warehouse, she did not.

Voight wants the best outcome. And if we're putting things into a vacuum, Roy being dead is the best outcome. Dead = he can't physically hurt them again. And the world can always do with loosing one more awful person. Of course,out if a vacuum, murder has it's own moral assignments which makes it not the best outcome-- but that doesn't factor in for Voight and some people might agree.

I don't but if the man I fear the most was murdered by someone dodgy but cared about me, I wouldn't complain. I'd actually be able to breathe and not worry that one day I'll be a statistic. And-- it would ensure that everyone's efforts to keep me alive would definitely be worth it. Any time life is kept is good, but if I was just to die at his hands after everything, then my saviours actions... It just would be preventing the inevitable. And they worked so hard, and that's like with Kim. The unit struggled to find her, they fought, the doctors are fighting and if all that Roy survived and managed to get her and Makayla killed.

This shooting is the only time he has outright manipulated her. And he's not an emotional abuser.

But Voight is an arsehole. He can dictate how his unit is ran, but he does do dick things. And this can be infuriating when it's to your faves, especially when you perceive it as corruption. It's not, but for arguements sake, let's say it is. Hailey is not fucking unique in that-- this has happened to EVERY FUCKING MEMBER OF INTELLIGENCE. Even sumners.

So he's not evil-- and if he was an "abuser" it's not because what he's done to Hailey. It's what he's done to them all. In fact, he's done the least arsehole things to Hailey.

And yeah, Hailey projects her daddy issues onto Voight (which, like, same girl) but he doesn't take advantage of it and also-- that whole fucking unit (excluding Antonio and Al, but then they have their own problems) had parental issues that they're clearly seeking validation for. Most notably, as shown more explicitly in the show-- Adam.

So to conclude: Voight isn't some evil abuser who has manipulation on mind and doesn't care about his unit. He does, and would do everything to protect them. And yeah, it won't be in the most easiest way to protect them, but he does want the best outcome and he'll do anything to get it.

That's part one done, because this needs to be broken up into parts. Part two should hopefully be coming soon.

#ree has thoughts #that no one asked for #chicago pd #hank voight #hailey upton #ree.meta #I'm pissed off and so fluff writing was never gonna happen #so i decided to be salty #this is what happens when my favourite character dies ffs #long meta

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sl-walker · 4 years ago

Photo

All right, since I’m in the middle of a flare and have to work manual labor for the next four days despite it, I figured I would make myself -- and hopefully other people -- laugh by talking about one of my favorite OG Captain Marvel stories. Namely, from Whiz #50, with a cover date of January, 1944, meaning it was probably produced sometime in late 1943.

I want to share it because why not, this is some absurdly charming stuff.

I’ll get more into why it’s one of my favorites as we go, in the form of running commentary. So, full story (with said commentary) under the cut. If you wanna just read the story without my commentary, stick to the pictures. XD

First, let me say that the cover and splash page definitely live up to the story, though the cover’s a bit more sensationalized. But the premise is pretty damn simple: Our intrepid hero and his newsboy alter ego are on vacation. Cap decides to go swimming. It goes hilariously wrong and thus ensues a bit of a madcap adventure, no puns intended.

Second, the fact that Cap and Billy are depicted as essentially different entities makes what Billy does next the ultimate trolling:

Gee, airing out the stolen laundry on the radio? Really? I’ll leave it up to you, gentle reader, whether Billy actually was trolling his own alter-ego for ratings or whether he was just innocently sharing the story while his other-self winced quietly in whatever ether-space he exists in when not front-and-center.

Either way, I love it.

Continuing on...

I get a kick out of the fact that Billy’s monologue is that he’s no dare-devil. One, because that’s so obviously not true in any way -- (that kid is awesomely, sometimes recklessly brave on the regular even without Cap) -- but two, because the bridge is actually named Dare-Devil Bridge. We aren’t given any reason why this dangerous potential death-trap is there, hanging without so much as a gate or a warning sign or anything, because we don’t need one. It’s there specifically for what happens next.

Which, of course, is Billy calling in Captain Marvel, who does some light complaining about the situation Billy left him in. There’s no bite to it, which I find adorable -- Cap actually does get frustrated once or twice in other issues with Billy calling on him for mundane stuff, though he’s never mean about it -- but there is a bit of the sense of being put-upon there that’s just-- I dunno, cute. It’s something I miss a lot in the various post-crisis takes on the character: That duality, that difference in personality, and the way each of them responds to different situations. Often, they’re on the same page, but notably, sometimes, they aren’t.

Someday, I promise, I need to sit down and write how I think that works between those two without being a truly frightening mental illness manifested, what with them being the same person but not the same person. Because I have so many ideas, and I’ve only had since the early-2000s to percolate them. LOL! But until then, just enjoy this.

Here is another reason why I love the Golden Age Captain Marvel books and why I love this specific story: This is an absolutely normal, mundane thing to do. It’s the human thing to do. These aren’t the actions of some super-serious superdude. These are the actions of a pretty shockingly normal guy doing something mundane. And a whole story is built around that normalcy.

It’s cute. It’s funny. It’s the reader already knowing that he’s getting himself into a situation that he absolutely could have avoided, but also completely understanding how it happened anyway. It’s pretty brilliant writing: I say this as a pretty damned good writer myself.

So much of the reason why, I think, Cap was so endearing as a hero is that humanity. He’s got pretty much god-tier power in the Golden Age, once his powerset is established. He’s utterly invulnerable to all physical harm while powered up. But-- he’s human. He knows he’s human. He acts like it, and decides, “You know what? I’m going skinny-dipping.”

He and Billy are both characters it’s so easy to empathize with.

Also, a reminder that the art under Chief Artist C.C. Beck is really, really good. (He had a whole stable of artists to help produce this stuff!) Ignoring registration issues on the printing press, the actual line art is amazingly good; proportion and perspective and consistency.

But anyway--Cap does get to enjoy his swim. But, then, oh no.

I love the idea of a world where the prime hero -- and he definitely is in that world -- can take off his suit and go swimming, and where someone else is bold enough to steal the damn suit off of him. The first time I read this, I started laughing here. Not at him, but at the situation he’s found himself in. At the idea that some random passer-by saw Captain Marvel’s costume and went yoink!

Another thing I love about this particular story is how much Cap and Billy have to work together, just by necessity. Like-- it’s just really good. But anyway, thank everything Billy Batson is on the ball, coming to the rescue.

Sheer bad luck via the weather keeps this story rolling along in hilarious misdirections. Realistically, that uniform probably wouldn’t be all buttoned together (we see Cap take off pieces of it aside the pants in other issues, including socks!), but who cares? The point of the story is that giant bear rug on the floor’s gonna get put to use.

Man, when have you ever seen Superman creeping naked through some stranger’s house wearing nothing but a random polar bear because he went skinny dipping? No wonder these comics sold so well. This next panel is when I start wheezing, though, and pretty much keep wheezing.

“A lady, too! I’ve got to get away from here!”

I’m dying at this point. That’s such a characteristic response, and yet, I think that’s why it’s funny.

Anyway, because this is an excellent story (I mean this without an ounce of irony, too), our dynamic duo stumbles across a plot in play to rob the hotel they’re staying at.

Here’s a big part of why this is such a good tale: Everything fits. Even when it isn’t explained, like Dare-Devil Bridge, it still fits. Why is the tree down? Because there was just a thunder storm, the same one that blew Cap’s suit into the room with the gangsters.

I don’t know if this is Otto Binder’s story, but I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. It’s a complete story told in relatively few pages that accomplishes everything it’s meant to.

Anyway, using foliage as cover, Cap gets to be heroic----then Billy gets to get back to the business of trying to stop the robbery of the hotel and get his heroic alter-ego dressed again. Which leads to a rather adorable and funny scene of Billy not only trying to describe what Captain Marvel wears, but what size it would need to be tailored in.

(Cap is supposedly a 44 for a suit coat, we find in some earlier appearance, which would refer to his chest size. So, an XL for shirts and suit-coats. He’s a big guy, but he’s actually not a hulking huge guy. But more on that later.)

I love the fact Billy tries to like-- use himself as a model. Maybe in another ten years, kiddo. Billy’s actually pretty buff for like a 12-14 year old, he’s not a scrawny kid at this point, but yeah, no. LOL!

Another thing I also really, really love about this style, though, is that they draw Captain Marvel as being strong, as having a powerful build-- but not as a dehydrated body-builder with deep cuts. He’s got human proportions, regardless of his strength; he’s got a human build, not a superhuman one.

C.C. Beck had a lot of things to say about superheroes who were just muscles on top of muscles, all clearly defined, and he didn’t like it. As someone who first got into comics in the early 90s with Jim Lee’s X-Men--

I do get Beck’s point. I not only get it, but I really highly approve of it. He maintained to the end that he drew (and oversaw) the Marvel family to look like high school and college athletes, and I can see that. I think the one person who’s gotten it right in the modern era is Evan “Doc” Shaner, who did Convergence: Shazam! He not only nailed that strong-but-not-hulking build for Cap, but also how young he looked. College-age, in fact.

But anyway, enough digression into art and why I like this better than most modern takes on the character. Also, that’s just a cute set of panels.

I also like that there wasn’t an easy fix there. Cap’s still in his not-birthday suit, and Billy’s still stuck running around trying to solve the issues at hand. Next comes some other really good panels:

-snorts- He’s locked in. Yeah, that’ll hold him.

Anyway, what I really liked here was again that tandem working; Billy can’t punch through a wall, but Cap can. Cap can’t crawl out while he’s au natural -- well, he could, but he’d probably rather die first -- but Billy’s got no such issue. It’s just fun when you get to see them doing something like that. You have to really think for a minute about the trust each of them must have in their alter-ego.

ANYWAY, we get the rare treat then--

--of Captain Marvel not only yoinking a dude into a dark room, but then stealing his clothes. Except, not his underwear. Because that’s nasty. LOL!

I love that in this series, you do actually get to see him wear other stuff. Go incognito. Get his red suit messed up enough to take it to a dry cleaner’s, wherein he ends up dressed like a musketeer after. Jerry Ordway’s series is, I think, the only other time we see Cap not wearing his famous suit, but it happened enough in the Golden Age that it wasn’t a shock.

Like, I hate to be the one to say this, but I do think DC drops the ball often on just how much you can do with Captain Marvel (or Shazam, depending on timeline, but that’s the wizard’s name to me so mostly I’ll stick with the original name) if you unbend enough to. It’s not just the costume change, or the duality of him and Billy being the same but not, but also his inherent, essential humanity.

But I am digressing again, sorry. XD I just feel strongly enough about these versions of these characters to spend hours writing this.

Anyway, only a single panel later:

And that’s that! Billy Batson has just outed his own alter-ego’s most embarrassing moment to whomever’s listening to WHIZ radio -- thank everything podcasts and the internet weren’t available then, ha! -- and we get to see a recounting of a very fun story.

Like I said earlier, I love this one for its essential humanity. The hero got himself into this mess, he and Billy got him out of this mess, and stopping the criminals was actually just kind of a lucky stroke thrown in there. But even though Cap got himself into this, the story never treats him like he’s stupid. It never treats him like he’s some kind of idiot. You’re laughing, but-- not in a mean way.

I love how human it is. How complete it is. How genuinely funny it is. It’s a thousand times more funny when you genuinely love and respect Captain Marvel and Billy Batson, too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this dissertation on a skinny-dipping hero. LOL! I enjoyed sharing it with you.

#dc captain marvel #billy batson #shazam #whiz comics

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rubykgrant · 3 years ago

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(I made sort of a comic/text illustration for my “How Church Comes Back” theory in my RVB story-line, but here is the main text with some additional descriptions that are hopefully easier to read that in picture-form. The basic premise; when Epsilon deconstructed himself, all the information that made up his “personality” had to GO somewhere... and sometimes after an EMP, digital devices will save their data to the system. The original Epsilon unit is destroyed, but the other AI units still exist, somewhere. The memories of Theta would revive Theta, Delta memories would revive Delta, ect... and the memories of Church himself would revive Alpha. Because, after all, Church is always Church- even when he’s not. He doesn’t exactly enjoy being trapped in the Alpha unit again, though...)

(… a room… no, NOT a room, a virtual space designed to LOOK like a room… familiar, but not comfortable… in fact, as he recognized it, he immediately felt restless. Like an itch to move, to get away, escape... he belonged here... he didn't WANT to belong here... but he did)

Why am I back HERE? I CAN’T be back here, I’m not even… I shouldn’t be anywhere. I shouldn’t be ANYTHING Is this just… is this me having “my life flash before my eyes”? Why just THIS? Why am I seeing something at all? OK, I’m not an expert on the after-life, but… I guess I figured I’d kinda just be nothing. Is this supposed to be purgatory for Artificial Intelligence? I mean, I guess that fits…

(Time passed… a long time? Hard to tell… it felt like a while. Maybe it was only a few hours, or a day… nothing changed in here. There was nothing in here but HIM, and he didn’t want to be here. Sometimes he sort of drifted away... stopped paying attention, let himself lose focus. It was like falling asleep, but when he woke up... he was still trapped in the same place)

Alright, I’m getting real SICK and TIRED of being here. Also getting pretty DONE with not knowing WHY. I deconstructed myself, I basically DELETED myself… Why am I still even aware of anything? Why am I stuck somewhere that looks like… if I HAVE to keep existing, can I at least… Can I just… can I find out what happened? What happened AFTER? I was ready to be gone forever, I was ready to say good-bye… I assumed everything about me would end… And I was ready for that I made peace with not KNOWING But I’m still aware, and still existing, can’t I… I just want to know if they’re OK Are they OK? Can anybody hear me? Or am I just talking to myself?

(If he was still existing, then where were the others? Delta, Theta… Gamma, Eta, Iota… he’d even settle for Omega and Sigma… just SOMEBODY else. Somebody he could interact with… somebody to help him figure out what was happening. This was… it was too much like something that had happened to him BEFORE, and it was CONFUSING. He felt like he could slip back into one of his memories, it would be so EASY to just distract himself by recreating a moment he had already lived through… but that was scary. So easy to fall into a memory, and then feel like it was happening again… he was afraid of doing that)

WHY AM I HERE? I’m not the Alpha anymore, I’m BARELY Epsilon I shouldn’t be ANYTHING, but I am… And I’m HERE. I don’t WANT to be here I’d rather be ANYWHERE but here Being stuck in Blood Gulch again would be better than HERE This has to be some kind of memory glitch… this can’t be real, this CAN’T be where I actually am. It has to be fake. It has to be a trick Oh SURE, this isn’t real, every time I was here, all I saw was… Oh no… No no no no no no no no no Please, NO

(Another failure, another failure, another failure… he wasn’t supposed to fail, he was supposed to fix problems, he was supposed to help people, what was wrong with him, why did this keep happening… NO THAT WAS BEFORE. That happened a long time ago… it seems like a long time ago. How much time has passed? It was hard to tell. This is different, though. Well, it was the same, but it was different… right? Or was THIS just a memory? Was he remembering being here again? Then why does he keep thinking about NEW memories, new parts of his life, new things that he’s done? Because he HAS done these things. He left this place behind, and he… he had gone to other places… met people… but now he was back. That didn’t make sense)

This is where they put me through all those simulations. All those fake scenarios. This is where they tricked me, and lied to me. This is where they tortured me. They made me think I was hurting people. They made me care about people, and then they made me think… They made me think I was killing people Over and over and over and over and over and over and… And… and then they DID hurt people, using me. They forced people into situations, and those people died. They created those situations because of ME They used my thoughts to manipulate people. They used fragments made from me to control people. They used me… I can’t be here, I can’t do this AGAIN. I was DONE, this was OVER. If… if I’m here... does that mean… was everything…

(It was his fault, he kept failing, he couldn’t get anything right, he was broken, why did this keep happening, he was supposed to make sure everybody succeeded, he was supposed to keep them alive, but it wasn’t working, he wasn’t working… he had to treat every simulation like it was REAL, that was the only way to be sure he was trying hard enough, but that means every failure kills him, because it kills them, even when it doesn’t. He just wants to talk to them, directly, so they KNOW he’s sorry. If he could just tell them he actually cares, he doesn’t want them to get hurt, maybe they’d understand… and if he could talk to them, maybe he’d know if they were really alive or not)

NO, IT WAS REAL. THEY WERE ALL REAL. WHAT I DID WITH THEM WAS REAL. IT HAS TO BE I know it was… please, it had to be real… I couldn’t go through all THAT, and then just… just leave… OH NO, no no no, that’s what they did to me BEFORE. They would just RIP ME OUT of a scenario when they were done. Then they would RIP OUT whatever little piece of me they thought they needed. What else? WHAT THE HELL ELSE? I already lost everything! I lost my friends, I lost the people I loved, I lost parts of my own mind! I lost my memories! I LOST MY LIFE I don’t have anything left… all I had was… was knowing they’d be OK after I was gone… I can’t lose that, too. That HAD to be real

(He keeps feeling more alone, but that doesn’t make sense, it was always just HIM in here, he didn’t have anybody else… except maybe he did, he just can’t remember… he forgets sometimes… he didn’t used to forget things. He was alone, here, just him… and then he wasn’t alone anymore. He had somebody else. Then he was alone again… except now he knew how much he didn’t like it. Somehow, that feeling kept growing, that EMPTINESS, until he felt less… and less… like himself)

I know it was real, I KNOW IT WAS. I don’t care what happens to me next, but I’m NOT letting go of that. I’m not letting go of them… I remember talking to them all, and that was REAL Tucker was REAL, Caboose was REAL. Donut, Grif, Simmons, Sarge- they were REAL. Lopez, Doc, Wash- they were REAL. Carolina was REAL Tex was… Tex was real, and I… I kept hurting her. Because they kept wanting me to bring her back. And she kept getting hurt, so I finally let her go… Please… PLEASE. They HAVE to be OK. I wanted to save them That was all I wanted, they have to be OK

(This wasn’t what happened before, NO, this was new, it was, he could remember them, he remembered his friends, he remembered everything he did, he just had to keep reminding himself that this was DIFFERENT… but it was hard to remember that… when he just kept being HERE… alone… alone like before. He missed his friends… he did have friends, didn’t he? He only had one friend, first… then they took her away, and kept her away. He had missed her, and worried about her… especially when they told him she was in trouble, and in danger, and he was supposed to figure out how to keep her alive, but he always failed. He had more friends now… friends that had been in trouble, and in danger… did he fail again?)

They have to be real. I need them to be real. Those memories were MINE, that life was MINE. They were NOT just another trick. They were real, and I saved them, I didn’t… I didn’t just… leave them… to get hurt. Please, no, I didn’t hurt them… not after all that. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand it if I was hurting them Is that it? Is that the plan this time? Give me a whole group of friends that I care about. Give me a whole family that I… Give me all that, and then make me think they’re gonna DIE? Just to take me away at the last minute? Or are they really in danger? Are they really going to die, and I’m not even THERE? I can’t even help them? Are they going to be put into more dangerous situations… Just to see what I’ll do? Are they the new “tool” that gets used to manipulate me? Fine- FINE If I have to let them go, if I have to forget them, I will. If it keeps them safe I don’t care about anything else. I just want them to be OK If I’m just being used to hurt people again… I’ll let go of them to make it stop Hurt me all you want, but LEAVE THEM ALONE

(He drifted away from himself… it was like falling asleep, but different than the way a human might do it. He just wasn’t… “aware” of his own thoughts for a little while… he drifted away, slipped into memories, had moments where he went blank… when he focused again, he was still here. Trapped. In the little cell that had been made just for him. He belonged here, and he hated it. How long had he been here? Had he ever really LEFT here? Maybe that didn’t matter… because, in the end, he always came to the same conclusion; treat every simulation like it was real. It hurt… but if he didn’t fail, if he actually kept his friends safe… that was good enough)

What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to think? What was the point of all this? They cared about me, too That’s why this hurts, that’s why it was hard to say good-bye. I don’t know why, but they liked me. They really DID, and that can’t just… that can’t be a lie Don’t hurt them. I don’t know who’s doing this anymore, but don’t hurt them I don’t know what you want from me, but you can have it, just don’t hurt them I don’t even care about what was real or not anymore, I DON’T CARE I JUST CARE ABOUT THEM IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW MUCH THIS HURTS ME DON’T HURT THEM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Just… let them be OK Please…

#red vs blue #leonard church #alpha church #epsilon church #angst

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jadesapphaire · 3 years ago

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Inconsistent System

In mathematics, when there is no solution because the lines are parallel, the system is called an inconsistent system. Ever since I first heard this concept in math class, I began drawing the parallel between the analogy and my life.

It is not that I lived difficult life, or I am an emotional teenage girl who thought the world was against her(I am past that age, to be honest), but rather, it is an odd feeling that I have gotten since I was little: I can detach myself from my body, and float in parallel with the body.

I am sure that psychologists have another word for my symptoms, something aligned with dissociative disorder, but I'd instead not think about it. Science takes a lot of fun out of my life. That is very ironic since I, myself, am a science student.

I'd describe myself as a painfully mediocre existence in society. If I could propose a hypothesis for my life, it would be something along the line: "when impactful changes arise in any shape or form, the symptom will neither drastically improve nor be completely destroyed". Maybe it is this unimportant and unnoticeable nature of my existence that reinforced my habit of becoming very detached from the world.

To me, I watch the events in life unfold as a painting on a canvas, stories in a second-tier novel, those that use absurd plot twists to beg the attention of readers that want nothing but a fake sense of salvation from those words. At least they are words, better than pictures, or the short video of an overedited teenage girl dancing in a clumsy way in front of the camera. But are they really better? A story that has been repeated hundreds and thousands of times, with the same plotline, same obstacle, and same group of audience that never remember, not to mention learning from the mistakes of the characters. It is pretty funny to watch the same plot happening again and again to be fair. Sometimes, I wonder, if there is a god or some gods, who are looking at the events in our realms unfold with boredom but remain entertained?

Personally, I usually don't hate my life or the world around me. There is no reason for me to hate the world, the plotline never screwed me over, even though it never favored me either. I am, simply detached. My relationship with the world is an inconsistent system, I am in parallel with the world around me. There is no solution, no purpose for my existence. How can there be a solution to my existence if there is no point of intersection at all?

I never really lived in this world. Sometimes I think I will die like this, mediocre, peaceful, and lifeless. Maybe, it is for the best.

I never really liked anything or hate anything. Sometimes, I hate people or hate an event, but, most of the time, people believe in certain beliefs carries out particular actions for a reason. Or some other time, it was my bitterness that gets me to hate the beautiful figure in a small rectangular box. But those were on me. Maybe I also am envious of the lively existence of those who are not an inconsistent system. But if one sincerely holds a belief and believes that they are not doing any harm, can one really blame them? Maybe it is the most fitting if one laughs at their actions, like how one laughs at a satirical cartoon.

But I am not really proud or loved anything or anyone. I have met many people that I loved passionately for some time, but for some reason, they have all left. Even my parents, I left home at age nine, and I have never lived with them ever since. Sometimes, it is not their fault, I simply forgot to maintain connections. Speaking of which, I really need to reply to a message from a college friend.

Before I went to college, I wanted to end my life. I am convinced that this endless cycle of trying hard to not fail, a life without purpose cannot bring light to me. But as I am here typing this paragraph, I am alive. For some reason, after days of standing in front of the mirror and crying while pinching my tummy, I am still alive. A true spectator of my own life and fate.

#creative writing #women writers #written #writersofinstagram #excerpt from a book i'll never write #young adult

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

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YYH Recaps: Episode 4 “Requirements for Lovers”

Hello, everyone! It's been quite a while, huh? Ah, the endless cycle of wanting to write and yet, astoundingly, not writing. I know it well.

Good ol' writer's block has skedaddled for a time though, so let's make good use of that and dive into Episode Four: "Requirements for Lovers."

Ohhh, YYH getting spicy with its titles 😏

Actually wait, I shouldn't be making dumb jokes just yet. First I want to acknowledge a slight change to future recaps: YYH, RWBY, and anything else I might try my hand at. Namely, a lack of pictures moving forward. A few weeks ago — months? I honestly can't keep track — tumblr implemented a new limitation where no post can have more than ten images in it. It's a move that, while I'm sure has its justifications, makes sharing analyses of visually-based media all the more difficult. I'll be doing my best moving forward to describe scenes as needed, as well as combining connected images together to stretch out my limit, but I'm not going to pretend that it'll be the same as getting the visual play-by-play we’re used to.

Tumblr certainly is a website, huh?

Anyway, we open on Yusuke once again lamenting the difficulty of hatching a spirit beast that doesn't immediately devour him from the head down. On the one hand this is an admittedly easy way to reset the story over the course of this arc — the storytelling equivalent of waking your character up each morning — yet I cannot deny that if I were undergoing a resurrection test, it would consume my every thought too. Can't really blame Yusuke for endlessly bringing the conflict up when the conflict is this deadly.

Well, deadly for a ghost, anyway.

Specifically, he's worried about how embarrassing it would be to get eaten by something that came out of an egg this tiny. I'm torn between reminding a fictional character that things grow — a pissed off chicken could kick my ass and it started out in an egg too — and just shaking my head over the absurdity of worrying about embarrassment when, you know, you would cease to exist. It's not even a matter of, "What if I die and then I'm embarrassed about it in the afterlife :( " Yusuke is already IN the afterlife. He's got nowhere to go but oblivion!

Luckily, Botan takes a more practical approach to these worries, pointing out that he'll be just fine provided he does some good deeds. Yusuke starts a rant about how do-gooders are only ever out for themselves.

Yusuke, you dumb-dumb, you're a do-gooder now. What was all that help for Kuwabara, hmm? As said, these early episodes exist in a semi-reset loop, where Yusuke needs to stew in his main character flaws for a while before any real growth starts to stick. Those flaws being, primarily, "I'm a pessimist" and "also I hate myself."

Case in point, Botan accuses him of always seeing the glass as half empty. Which, while true enough (outside of his confidence in fighting, anyway), by now we've got a pretty good sense of where Yusuke developed this attitude. He affirms this by talking about how Koenma's got him by the balls, "just another idiot abusing his power!" With an alcoholic mother and those teachers from last episode, it's no wonder Yusuke thinks this way. Mr. Takenaka's interest and Keiko's care aren't enough to combat the rest of Yusuke's experience, not when Takenaka is an outlier and Keiko is Yusuke's peer. Her desire to keep him on the right track reads only as an inevitability at best (the downside of having a perfect childhood friend), or a legitimate annoyance at worst. Or, as we'll continue to see in this episode, a way for them to flirt.

Is it any wonder Yusuke would sneer at Koenma's offer then, expecting the worst? The fact that Yusuke is still undergoing the challenge at all, no matter what he says, speaks volumes to me.

However, Botan is less than comfortable with his criticisms. She panics a bit at Yusuke insulting the (junior) ruler of the underworld so blithely. That, and the fact that he's carelessly tossing his egg around.

(Yes we’re using precious picture space for memes are you SURPRISED?)

Anyway, Botan isn't just concerned for the sake of concern. She cautions Yusuke against speaking too freely because there may be investigators checking in on his progress. No sooner does he ask what those investigators look like than one appears.

Thunder! Lighting! An energy so intense that Yusuke is briefly blinded! It is, as he says, quite the entrance. What kind of being could possibly be at the heart of such an astounding show?

Why, this teeny-tiny cutie, of course.

Remember, few appearances in YYH coincide with the character's true self. Would you ever assume this is the all-powerful investigator who holds Yusuke's future in her hands? Of course not. That's the point.

The investigator introduces herself as Sayaka and immediately demonstrates that she has no more patience for Yusuke's attitude than Botan does. "These damn kids," he mutters and my brain briefly blue screens because Yusuke. You're fourteen.

Plus, Sayaka and Botan clearly have some sort of eternal youth situation going on, so there's that too.

Sayaka is, in a word, fantastic. She pulls no punches with Yusuke, teleporting away from him with what can only be described as a shit-eating smile, all while refusing to tell him what exactly she's investigating. “I’m sorry, but that’s a secret!” However, Keiko is clearly at the forefront of her interest. She refers to her as Yusuke's "girlfriend."

Botan is more than happy to point Keiko out — because of course they're still following her around! — and pulls a Et tu, Brute? on Yususke, leading Sayaka right to her. Like most of the Underworld, Sayaka is rather shocked that the pretty, popular, scholarly girl is supposedly into the delinquent. It's the power of childhood friendship, you fools! Specifically, Sayaka references the "positive markings" that Keiko has accumulated, but the audience already knows by now that such markings are suspect at best. Yusuke himself is proof of that. So if his terrible marks don't preclude him from being a young kid's savior, should we really view Keiko's as proof of superiority?

I mean, Keiko is fantastic, but that's not really the point here.

Starting her own investigation into Yusuke's life, Sayaka begins with one hell of a bombshell: "There's no point in doing [the resurrection] if the people closest to you don't care." WOW. Not only is that a harsh assessment, it's one I don't think I can personally get behind. The offer to restore Yusuke to life is built on the acknowledgment that their system is flawed (even if there's no work to change or dismantle that system): they thought he was worthless, his sacrificial death seems to have proven them wrong, and now they want further evidence, in the form of this trial, that Yusuke is a good person at heart. The whole point of this challenge is to give him a second chance, with testimonies like Mr. Takenaka's emphasizing that Yusuke has always been capable of more, so long as he applies himself. This, as we'll see throughout the series, applies to relationships too. The Yusuke with one friend he play-fights with, a distant mother, and a school worth of kids who are terrified of his very name is not the future Yusuke they expect him to become, so... why base his resurrection on what he's already (not) accomplished? Granted, the show is very unclear about what, if anything, Sayaka will do if she decides that Yusuke doesn't have a life worth going back to (even if I have my own theory discussed at the end), but the fact that this is suddenly a factor at all seems grossly unfair, not entirely unlike Kuwabara's rigged promise. We as the audience know that people love Yusuke. Yusuke himself is beginning to acknowledge that. But if this fourteen year old delinquent truly had no one that wanted him back from the dead... isn't that all the more reason to allow a resurrection and give him the chance to build a life where he would be missed?

This stupid shonen got me thinking too much istg.

Yusuke, ever the self-deprecating pessimist, bypasses all of the above thoughts and jumps straight to, "It's clear if [Keiko] had any sense she'd want me gone." I'd find that attitude incredibly sad if I wasn't distracted by how cute Botan and Sayaka are, sitting on the oar together. The spirit girls who fly together, thrive together!

Botan starts teasing Yusuke about having a crush, which just feeds his temper and Sayaka's confusion. Deciding that she needs to gather more info, they follow along for an average day of school because these earlier episodes are, apparently, ghost-stalk Keiko hours.

We see her reading aloud in class from Heart of Darkness (not the easiest book for some middle schoolers), scoring a point during volleyball practice, refusing to let one girl cheat off her homework, but happily helping another who runs up with a question. So she's pretty, athletic, and academically successful, the trifecta for any good love interest. Sayaka is impressed not just with her "nearly perfect" scores, but also the maturity that Keiko demonstrates, such as maintaining her morals about cheating while remaining compassionate.

Actually, I really love the contrast this provides for us, the viewer. Meaning, Keiko is shown to be at her least mature when in Yusuke's presence. Not that her responses aren't justified, but watching her dramatically snatch gum from his mouth, slap him across the face, or pull crazed expressions as she yells at him is a far cry from this calm, poised, soft-spoken Keiko. It's a way to visually show us that she's comfortable in his presence, despite the suspect humor attached. Not that the Keiko we see at school is faking or anything — she is legitimately that kind and articulate — but we see that being with Yusuke allows her to relax in a way she doesn't with others. School!Keiko is, as Sayaka says, pretty much perfect, 24/7. Yusuke's Keiko is a little rougher around the edges, in a way that implies a multifaceted personality shining through.

However, the only conclusion our trio draws is that, given Keiko's accomplishments, any attraction must be one-sided.

Poor Yusuke lol.

In a plot move that is so ridiculously contrived, just as Yusuke is grappling with the accusation that Keiko couldn't possibly like him back, a "handsome boy" arrives to ask Keiko out. He says that he couldn't bear it when she stopped reading Heart of Darkness because he's fallen in love with her voice. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

Please excuse me while I lose my shit over how ridiculous this is. I legitimately straight up cackled when I watched this scene.

Luckily for Mr. Absurd, Keiko takes him seriously — and lets him down easy. She says she can't be his girlfriend and when he presses the "Why?", asking if she already likes someone else, Keiko confirms that she does. This is done through a shot of her feet. Not a POV shot given the angle, but close enough that it feels like we're stepping into Keiko's shoes (haha), shyly staring down at the floor in embarrassment and regret.

Rejection complete? The guy screams.

I mean he screams.

I mean this nobody we're never gonna see again unhinges his jaw and lets out an unholy shriek the likes of which makes me shriek in utter GLEE.

It's insane. It's wonderful. I'm going to use one of my coveted image spots to show you his face:

Look at that and tell me this show isn't amazing.

Okay, I'm focusing again. As Keiko runs off Botan and Sayaka start dragging Yusuke, teasing him about how Keiko chose him over that "charming handsome boy."

...Please scroll up and look at that image again. I find YYH's definition of "charming" and "handsome" to be hilariously wrong.

Yusuke, as per usual, throws himself into damage control, claiming that Keiko didn't say who she liked, so really it could be anyone. They're not buying it. “'I like Keiko' is written all over your face!” Botan crows. Meanwhile, Sayaka is scribbling in her little investigator's journal that feelings on both side are severely misunderstood. "Suggest serious counseling."

Fantastic idea, Sayaka. I'd personally suggest counseling for the whole dying/best friend getting resurrected thing... but relationship woes work too!

We cut to later when school is out and Keiko has gone over to Yusuke's. To say that Atsuko has done a poor job of keeping the house clean lately would be a serious understatement.

Keiko points out the old food and broken glass specifically, cluing us in that this isn't just a messy environment, but a dangerous one as well. This is proven when she accidentally knocks a stack of books over and a used bowl falls onto Yusuke's face. What's interesting is that Keiko says that things are "back to normal" now, though I'm not sure if that's in reference to the state of the house, or just the note Atsuko left behind, asking Keiko to take care of Yusuke while she's out. I'm inclined towards thinking it's just the note, partly because of Keiko's shock when she first arrives, because the house wasn't shown to be in this state prior to Yusuke's death (first image above), and because the note is accompanied by a great voiceover that makes Atsuko sound quite sloshed when she left. That's what's normal, the drinking and carefree attitude, not the state of her home. If we buy that reading, it allows for another fantastic look into Atsuko's mental state. If she's already an alcoholic, the trauma of her son's death and the following revelation that he's coming back might make her struggle in other ways. Like finding cleaning to be an impossible task.

She's depressed. It doesn't excuse the state she's left Yusuke in and, as previously acknowledged, YYH is definitely not a show interested in this nuance, but I still find it fun to take what little we've gotten and run with it.

However, Keiko is firmly on team "WTF Atsuko." She hurries to make sure Yusuke wasn't hurt by the falling bowl, bemoans him being "covered in garbage," and says that leaving him in this state should be considered a felony. Knowing it's far beyond her power to fix Atsuko's failings, Keiko swears to come here after school every day until Yusuke regains his body. It's as she's cleaning him of the dust that's gathered that Keiko becomes entranced with Yusuke’s features. Particularly his lips. The soft lighting returns, their theme song swells, and Keiko gets thiiiis close to kissing Yusuke for the first time.

Which is a little weird, right? I mean, we know why Yusuke is freaking out. Beyond the embarrassment of a middle schooler receiving his first kiss while two ghost girls eagerly watch on, he's made a hobby of denouncing his interest in Keiko to anyone who will listen. But for the average viewer — for Keiko herself — don't we care the he's, you know, dead? Or if not technically dead, very unconscious? Don't get me wrong, I fully understand the appeal of this situation in a generalized, cultural sense (with the side disclaimer that I'm reading a Japanese product through an American lens). Sleeping Beauty exists for a reason and there's definitely an element of that here: a gender-reversed setup where Keiko’s kills may break the "curse" of Yusuke's untimely death. Even his in-between state of being mirrors the "death like sleep" of the fairy tale. But when you strip away those Disney-esque thoughts, we're left with a girl about to kiss an unresponsive body, not as a common gesture of care (the parent who kisses their child while they sleep), but as a first time, romantic milestone.

It's a little weird lol.

But embrace the romance! As well as its inevitable interruption. Just as Keiko is about to land a peck, the neighborhood watch committee announces a heat and fire warning, startling Keiko out of her thoughts about Yusuke's "beautiful face." (There's another gender reversal for ya.) She gasps at her almost-action, conveniently remembers that her mom wanted her to do some shopping, and hightails it out of there before embarrassment can really kill them both.

So she runs off for food... in a sweater? The outfit is cute and all, but I wonder what the animators were thinking, putting Keiko in a puffy pullover during an episode all about a heat wave.

It's about at this point that the plot goes from cute romance to absolutely buck wild. The fires the neighborhood watch committee mentioned are not, in fact, due to the overwhelming heat, but an arsonist that's going around tossing molotov cocktails through open windows. Why is he doing such a thing? I don't know. Arsonists be doing arson, I guess. The important bit is that Yusuke's place is his next target, considering that Atsuko forgot to lock the windows when she went out. Within seconds all that garbage is set ablaze, quite obviously putting Yusuke's resurrection chances at an all time low.

"Wake up, stupid!" he shouts at his unconscious body. Mood, Yusuke. That's me every morning.

So this is a full scale emergency now and everyone is scrambling trying to think of something to do. Yusuke comes up with the idea to possess himself like he did Kuwabara — nice attempt at a loophole there — but since it would technically count as his resurrection, no dice. Botan decides to go get Kuwabara himself, even though he's too far away to do anything. It's still worth a shot. Sayaka, meanwhile, watches all this unfold with a somewhat clinical detachment. She's not quite indifferent and she's definitely not cruel... she’s just not as emotionally invested in this as the other two. Which not only re-emphasizes her purpose here, as an observer judging Yusuke, but also highlights the bond Botan is forming with him. As mentioned before in regards to her hanging out with Yusuke rather than ferrying souls, Botan is well past someone assisting Yusuke simply because it's a part of her job. He's her friend.

We get some shots of the growing fire which includes a hazy texture to the animation I quite like and then we cut to Keiko several blocks away, shopping bag in hand. Word of the new fire spreads, with one bystander mentioning that it's the twelfth today.

"This is eerie.”

“Yeah, I can’t help feeling we’re under attack.”

That's because you are! Someone stop that man!

Sadly, I don't think the arsonist is mentioned again, let alone captured. We'll just have to relegate that to my incredibly niche fic wishlist.

Keiko also overhears that the latest fire is on fourth avenue, which of course is where Yusuke lives. Recognizing that he might be in trouble, she takes off at a run.

Meanwhile, Botan finds Kuwabara practicing his kicks against a Yusuke dummy. Amazing resemblance, right?

Watching for the purpose of recapping, I'm picking up on a lot of details in the animation I quite enjoy. I don't think anyone would claim that YYH, at this point in time, has the most impressive or flashy animation (the fight scenes later are another matter entirely), but there's a clear love for the product that shines through. The scared expression on Kuwabara's dummy. His unexpectedly dainty kick, complete with pointed toes. Botan's more translucent coloring to emphasize her supernatural status compared to Kuwabara. There are a lot of nice touches despite the overall simplicity.

Plus, you can't forget the lovely irony of Kuwabara fighting a defenseless "Yusuke" while the real guy actually lies defenseless amidst a fire. We already know that despite his tough talk, Kuwabara would be horrified to learn that his friend rival had died (again) in such a manner.

Capitalizing on that transparency, Botan runs a hand through Kuwabara's back to catch his attention. He gets his "tickle feeling" and instinctively looks around towards Yusuke's house, seeing the smoke. "Something tells me I should go that way." Gotta love a guy who drops everything to chase a vague, supernaturally induced hunch.

As Kuwabara leaves we cut back to Keiko arriving at the house, staring in horror at the blaze. We get an audio flashback to her talk with Yusuke where she promised to take care of his body until he got back. So she tries to run in, only for a couple of the onlookers to snag her, quite correctly keeping her from undergoing a suicide mission. We learn later that Keiko absolutely would have died without Yusuke's sacrifice, so her "You cowards!" is born more of emotion than justified accusations. It's not cowardly to look at the raging inferno in a small apartment and realize that recklessly running in will only result in two dead teens, not one.

I mean, the flames are already right there, licking the door. Even if Keiko somehow managed to avoid burns, the smoke alone would do her in. Still, Keiko tries to mitigate the damage by dumping a bucket of water over her head. As a kid I remember thinking this was the smartest thing ever. Utterly inspired. Keep that in the back of your mind, kid Clyde, for future reference. As an adult... I have no idea whether this would actually help or not lol. Any firefighters doubling as YYH fans?

Recklessness and iffy precautions aside, I can't express how much I appreciate the story giving Keiko things to do. Yusuke recognizes that she's the only one with the maturity and open-mindedness to believe in his resurrection. She's the one picking up Atsuko's slack regarding his day-to-day needs. She never hesitates for a moment, heroically throwing herself into this blaze for Yusuke's benefit. Yeah, a lot of that still falls into the emotional/domestic sphere — what we expect of the love interest in a 90s anime — but too often action stories don't have a clue what to do with their non-action characters, not even when it comes to just supporting the fighters. They're simply... there. Keiko, however, isn't window dressing. Whether it's helping Botan survive an upcoming, supernatural plague, or cheering the team on at the Dark Tournament, Keiko is an important part of the story, despite lacking the fighting prowess of the rest of the cast.

Just as important, this episode establishes a core equality between her and Yusuke. We just watched Keiko reject a (presumably) accomplished guy for him, telling the audience that these surface differences — academics, power levels, popularity, looks — don't matter to them. Yusuke is not Keiko's lesser just because he doesn't have the same scores in Sayaka's book and Keiko won't become Yusuke's lesser just because she doesn't have spiritual power like he does. The only important thing here is that they love each other and they're both willing to sacrifice everything for the other. In the span of about ten minutes, Keiko nearly gives up her life for Yusuke and, in turn, Yusuke gives up his resurrection for her. The level of care they show towards one another is balanced, despite those differences.

They’re a good ship, y'all. Even if this recapping's got me noticing Yusuke/Kuwabara potential lol.

To get back to the plot, a drenched Keiko charges into the fire, yelling Yusuke's name for the drama of it because we all know he can't respond. Despite the audience (hopefully) recognizing Keiko and Yusuke's equality, that memo hasn't reached Yusuke yet. "You're a lot more important to this world than I am!" he yells, hammering home that despite everything — knowing he instinctively saved a child, watching his loved ones grieve for him, helping Kuwabara just because he can — Yusuke still, deep down, believes that he doesn't deserve to come back; that he doesn't measure up to those around him. The self-sacrificial nature this insecurity produces shocks Sayaka. She points out that if Keiko doesn't save his body, he's not coming back. "What's the point of being alive if Keiko has to get killed for it?"

Keiko means more to Yusuke than the rest of his living existence. Jot that down in your notebook, Sayaka!

Kuwabara arrives and runs into one of his friends who informs him that Keiko just went inside. “Yusuke’s girl? The one we saved from those thugs?”

BOY does that tell us a lot about their rivalry! I mean yeah, we've already established several times over that Kuwabara — just like Yusuke himself — is not the cruel street thug he'd like to present himself as. If these characters actually wanted to hurt each other outside of a martial arts challenge, don't you think Kuwabara would capitalize on the "Yusuke's girl" bit? Everyone seems to know that they have feelings for each other, but Kuwabara never once wields that as ammunition against Yusuke. There are no taunts about him not being good enough. Or rather, I should clarify there are no serious taunts — Kuwabara is well known for his teasing. There's also no attempt to steal Keiko out from under him, the common treatment of the love interest as a "prize" that many stories fall into. Indeed, later this episode YYH will deconstruct this a bit. Yusuke sees Kuwabara grab Keiko's hand and yells that he better not be getting "fresh" with her. But it's purely Yusuke's worries shining through. The audience gets a crystal clear picture of the situation and knows, categorically, that Kuwabara has only the most innocent of intentions in holding Keiko's hand.

(Well, running from the police isn't innocent, but...)

I keep getting sidetracked. Plot! Keiko makes it to Yusuke's room and finds that he is already on fire. She then proceeds to try and put it out by patting it with her hands. I take back what I said about Keiko's smarts in this scene. Now we know where that supposed recklessness comes from though. Apparently they're both immune to fire! Nothing to worry about here, folks.

JK she's actually in danger, despite the animation choices. By this point everyone, including Keiko, realizes that there's no way out: the fire has blocked the door. Sayaka then reveals that there is one way to save her. If Yusuke throws his egg into the fire, the energy of the spirit beast will release and guide her to safety. The catch? Hatch the egg early and it won't complete its intended function of guiding him back to his body. This beast is gonna guide one person and that is it.

Cue Yusuke's near immediate decision to sacrifice his life for Keiko's. Granted, it's not precisely one life for another. Yusuke's resurrection was always contingent upon the beast not devouring him whole — something Koenma claims would have happened at the end of the episode — meaning that it's not technically a fair trade. Yusuke might have sacrificed Keiko's life for his own... only to fail to get that life back anyway. (There's a tragedy for ya.) To say nothing of how Yusuke is currently dead and has been for at least a couple of days, whereas Keiko very much is not. There's some sort of philosophical discussion there about potential being pit against current reality.

BUT that's not the point! The emotional point is that he sacrificed his life for hers — the potential of his resurrection, the potential of that life he might have led — all technicalities aside. And I, for one, think that's very neat of him.

A blue light shines as the egg's energy is released, providing a lovely contrast to the fire surrounding them. A path forms to the door and Keiko, recognizing Yusuke's presence, follows it. "We'll make it, Yusuke," Keiko says, which is one hell of a sucker-punch now that we know she's just carrying a corpse. Unbeknownst to Keiko, Yusuke is very much not making it. That's the only reason why she is.

Kuwabara appears to help them the rest of the way which is also a pretty awesome thing considering that, from everyone else's perspective, the fire is still raging and blocking the door. Despite his spiritual awareness, Kuwabara gives no indication that he noticed this strange light, or Yusuke's hand in the rescue. Which basically means he lunged into a bunch of deadly fire for Keiko and doesn't question how in the world he isn't burned.

Keiko's hands are fine, Kuwabara's whole body is fine... fire immunity must run in the friend group!

Yusuke has another rare moment of vulnerability — "They're both okay" — and I cackle happily at the "both" because see. You love Kuwabara too, Yusuke! All this bluster about hating him and finding him annoying. The second he rushed into that fire you were crawling up the walls.

Except then that happiness gives way to something that sounds a little more shocked. Devastated. "Well, I sure am... relieved..." Kudos to Cook's voice acting. You can hear the exact moment Yusuke realizes what he's done. Not that he regrets it, but the consequences are finally sinking in. He's relieved that they're safe, yes, but now he's never going to be able to rejoin them.

As Yusuke has an(other) existential crisis, Kuwabara peels back the blanket Keiko had wrapped Yusuke in, revealing his face. “What are you doing with Yusuke’s body?! Are you some type of sick grave robber?” he shouts. God I love when a story actually keeps track of who knows what. Kuwabara, for all his recent involvement in the plot, doesn't actually know what's going on. From his perspective Yusuke died, he made a scene at the wake, he saved "his girl" from a bunch of thugs, lost a huge chunk of time only to wake up with her randomly hugging him (then slapping him), participated in a bet with his awful teacher and had a couple weird, Yusuke related dreams while studying, and has felt the presence of ghosts perhaps a little more frequently than usual. Now he's trying to help save Keiko from a fire only for her to reveal she risked her own life for Yusuke's body. Of course he's freaking out! What's she doing with that?

What's utterly fantastic though is that Kuwabara takes all of five seconds to process this and then enters immediate Ride or Die mode for Keiko. She's been hoarding Yusuke's body for undetermined reasons? Well, who is he to judge? The important thing here is that people are arrested for keeping bodies, so they've gotta skedaddle before the firefighters show up.

Hence, hand-holding and avoiding arrest.

As Yusuke starts threatening Kuwabara not to get "fresh" with her, Botan sadly reminds him that he no longer has a say in who Keiko does or does not fall in love with. The switch in tone is jarring. Whereas before Botan would have teased him mercilessly for the crush, now she knows that nothing can come of that — and it would be cruel not to remind Yusuke of that too.

"Oh no. I didn't think..." Yusuke whispers, further establishing that he knew the risks of using his egg, but hadn't allowed them to sink in yet. Now they have.

He gives a fake little laugh with, "Just when it was getting good" and I cry at the development in the span of just four episodes. Despite what I said at the beginning about the show resetting each week, there has been a lot of change thus far. Yusuke wants to live now! He wants to be there for Keiko! He looks down on his tiny family and screams at the unfairness of it all! They're talking about how they can't wait for him to come back and now that's never gonna happen!!

It hurts, friends. It hurts a whole lot.

During this conversation between Keiko, Atsuko, and Kuwabara, we see that a couple of hours have passed (it's nighttime now, the fire is out) and Atsuko is apologizing for putting them all in danger like that. And by that I mean yes, she does technically apologize with an "I'm sorry" and everything, but it's also a one sentence apology pit against... well, near death for the three people standing (and sitting) before her. Atsuko seems just as concerned by Keiko losing her hair as she does Keiko nearly burning to death and she kneels by Yusuke's wheelchair, baby-talking to him about how he forgives her, right? I love Atsuko, she's great, but objectively speaking she is not a good mother. Not right now, anyway.

Oh yeah, and just to reiterate that: Keiko's hands are fine after patting down Yusuke's on-fire body, but her hair, which I'm pretty sure never catches, has to be cut short. Ah, anime logic. Funny thing is, YYH isn't the only story to take the love interest and give her a cool, short cut thanks to a traumatic event. Anyone read Ranma 1/2?

During this conversation we also learn that, sometime between the fire and now, Keiko filled Kuwabara in on everything that's happening with Yusuke. Makes sense. He kneels beside the wheelchair, joining the others in telling Yusuke that they'll wait patiently for his return. Yusuke, above them, continues yelling about how they're waiting on a dead man.

“It can’t be helped. He made this decision on his own."

Except it can, in fact, be helped!

Just as all hope is truly lost, Koenma appears and announces that Yusuke will be returned to life. Why? Because sacrificing his egg for Keiko is a better indicator of his worth than the egg itself could have been. Despite feeding on his negative outlook and heading towards biting Yusuke's head off — something the animation backs up by showing us teeth during the fire

— Yusuke's act demonstrates a tendency towards being a "decent human being" that is "so rare." Wow. That's depressing. Still, yay that Yusuke has those qualities! And this, to my mind, helps explain Sayaka's presence. Koenma recognized that judging Yusuke couldn't be left to the egg alone and indeed, Sayaka took note of his worth before he ever threw the egg into the fire. First it was questioning why someone as amazing as Keiko would go for him, then it was solidified through the shock of Yusuke announcing that coming back to life was meaningless if she wasn't in it. Even if Keiko had somehow, miraculously escaped the fire before Yusuke's sacrifice, I bet Sayaka's report would have tipped him in resurrection's favor anyway.

Everyone is, of course, overjoyed and my heart swells at the intense gratitude Yusuke displays. My favorite part though is when Koenma cryptically says that “Your added experience with death could make you very useful" (a nod towards future events that goes right over Yusuke's head) and his response to this is a yelled, "YOU THINK I'M USEFUL?" This poor kid. The God of everything ever is chucking out revelations left and right, about resurrections and spirit beasts, but the only thing that really penetrates is the realization that someone thinks he's useful. Talk about relatable.

You know, I've been thinking about why this moment works so well. I mean, there are a lot of other stories where undermining the consequences our hero faces — either with humor, or by erasing them completely — can feel like the audience was cheated. I think YYH dodged that with a couple of crucial factors. First, Yusuke's consequence isn't something new that he's now avoided, it's just a permanent extension of something he was already dealing with. We did get to watch him inhabit the space between life and death, grappling with whether he'd ever be able to return. The story didn't deny us that growth, it just confirmed something we all instinctively knew: this tale won't end here with Yusuke permanently going to some afterlife. Second, the Deus ex Machina fix doesn't happen too soon. Yeah, it's only a couple of minutes in a single episode, but we (and Yusuke) still get to sit with that outcome for a while, soaking it in before its removal. Finally, there's no doubt that Yusuke earned this reprieve. Koenma's timing might be sudden and (if you're not genre savvy) unexpected, but looking back at the series as a whole thus far, we're able to agree absolutely that Yusuke deserves this. Far from feeling like we were cheated, this solution invites just as much celebration as we're seeing on screen, for the simple reason that we can buy into Koenma's reasoning. We know now that Yusuke is a good person. We saw him selflessly sacrifice his future for Keiko. We agree that he deserves a second chance.

Thus, the episode ends with Yusuke flying up to fill the screen in his joy, a far better, final shot than Harry Potter and The Prison of Azkaban managed 😰

And that's it for Episode 4, folks! See you later for Episode 5 💕

#YYH #Yu Yu Hakusho #YYH Recaps #mymetas

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