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misslavenderlady · 1 year ago

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Love at First Bite 💞

David/Female!OC & Male!OC/Female!OC

Summary: David and the Lost Boys always have their eyes out for new brides to claim. However, when the vampire queen becomes smitten with a sweet redheaded boy, it may lead to the first time a groom is added to the coven.

This was inspired by @ghoulgeousimmaculate and her characters from the series Party the Pain Away and the various fics that take place afterwards. Ghoulie and I discussed the possibility of having another boy join the coven after so many girls were brought in. So everyone meet the new kid on the block! We hope you like him as much as Sis does~

WARNINGS: Fic contains mentions of fear, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics, PDA, mentions of blood/murder and alcohol. This has references to Ghoulie's stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987. Part 2 HERE credit to hellobeautiful.com and artmoda.by for the pics of Daniil Kalinin and Chloe Bailey for face claims of Oliver and Sis.

Oliver was no stranger to working hard. From a very early age, his father taught him the values of an honest day's work and the appreciation of those who took on the most challenging jobs. Things like sanitation, customer service and food preparation were to be respected, as they were thankless jobs with poor compensation.

He kept this in mind as he got settled into his new job after moving to Santa Carla. Not too many places were hiring as much due to the tourist season dying down for the year, but he was able to get hired at a local Italian restaurant. According to the manager, they had recently lost a waitress and needed to fill the position as soon as possible.

After seeing the ins and outs of the restaurant himself, Oliver could see why it had a lot of business, even after the summer rush. It was a gorgeous place, and he was quite impressed with the quality of the food. Putting on the server uniform made him feel quite proud of the work he was going to do.

His first few shifts went well. Oliver got settled in with lunch services and was sure to always work with a smile and a positive attitude. The customers enjoyed his friendliness and dedication to making sure their meal was perfect. Even if he was still very green, he had plenty of potential.

That's why his boss made him a very particular offer.

"Hey, Oliver," the middle-aged owner said to him. "Now that you're getting more comfortable, I'd like to get you set up for a dinner shift. We could really use the help during that time."

"Oh yeah! No problem!" the redheaded boy agreed. Little did he know that around the corner, his fellow servers were looking at one another with a shared sense of nervousness. Oliver had no idea he was getting into.

The night shift brought quite a lot more customers to the restaurant. Oliver was working twice as hard as before to make sure everyone had full drinks and hot plates of food in a timely manner. He wasn't perfect by any means, but his hard work and dedication was clear to everyone.

He was so focused on putting orders into the POS system that he didn't notice a new couple being welcomed in by his boss.

"Saluti signore e signora! Your usual table is all set up. Right this way!"

By the time Oliver turned back around to see who had walked in, they were already out of sight.

"I'm not taking their table. You go take it."

"Fuck you! I took them last time! You do it!"

Oliver couldn't help but overhear two waitresses bickering quietly off to the side. They had been more casual around other tables during all the other shifts they worked together. It was a surprise to see them so adamant about not serving the couple that had walked in.

He'd dealt with his fair share of nasty customers in past jobs. There was one elderly woman at a cashiering job that had threatened to beat him senseless with her cane over an expired coupon. If he could handle that, he could handle anything.

"I can take their table!"

The two girls turned toward him, looks of shock plastered on their faces.

"Really? You WANT to take them?"

"Yeah! It's no big deal, really."

They didn't look entirely convinced, but they were still appreciative of Oliver's offer to take the burden off of them. They handed him a pair of menus and silverware before each giving him a soft smile.

"Your funeral, bud."

Oliver played it off as a harmless joke, snickering playfully as he headed off to the new table. Little did he know how serious his coworkers were with such a warning.

He'd never served anyone in the space behind the curtain before. He didn't know what to expect when he pushed the black velvet fabric to the side in order to step forward. When he got a good look at one of the diners, he nearly dropped all the items he had in hand.

Sitting pretty in the booth across from the entrance was the most stunning woman that Oliver had ever laid eyes on. Her beauty was enhanced by her long locs, brown eyes, flawless makeup, plush lips, and glowing skin illuminated by the candles.

Oliver could practically feel his jaw hanging open at the sight of the mystery woman. If her looks hadn't caught his eye, then the bold dress she wore certainly did. There was barely any fabric on the top half, just mere straps crossing over her curvy figure.

If he wasn't careful, he'd start chubbing up before he could even take her order. That would be embarrassing enough if it were just her. But there was also a tall, blond, and handsome gentleman cozied up next to her. Clearly her date.

Oliver was just grateful for the thick fabric of the apron and his notebook covering up the area.

He finally mustered up enough courage to step to the front of their table. When the lady looked up at him, her eyes shimmered. It was as if she were admiring some kind of precious gem or a beautiful flower. Still, Oliver wasn't confident enough to believe she was as amazed by him as he was to her.

"Good evening!" he greeted the two. "My name is restaurant, welcome to the Oliver."

Immediately, the boy's skin flushed to a deep shade of red when he realized he got his line backwards. He slapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment, wishing he hadn't screwed up like that.

"I-I mean…my name is OLIVER. Welcome to the RESTAURANT. I cannot believe I did that…"

"Aww, you nervous, sweetheart?" the woman cooed, clearly amused. "This your first night? I haven't seen you around here~"

Her voice was as warm and sweet as fresh honey. The sound alone made it feel like his heart was pumping faster and faster and his blood growing hotter with every moment.

"Well…kinda," he admitted, smiling sheepishly. "It's my first dinner shift. I've been working lunches for a couple of weeks now."

The lady nodded, seemingly understanding of his situation. While she was warm and welcoming, her date seemed to be cold as ice. His frosty blue eyes were staring directly at Oliver, scanning over him carefully. It was like he was trying to figure out his entire personality with just a look.

It really put him on edge. Oliver wouldn't lie to himself about that.

"Well congratulations! You picked the best place in town to work!" she smiled. "We're regulars here! You'll be seeing us quite a bit. My name's Sis!"

She held out her perfectly manicured hand to the boy, happy to introduce herself. Oliver smiled right back as he slipped his hand against hers. He was a bit surprised to find it chilled to the touch, but not to a point of discomfort. After all, with hands as soft as hers, nothing about the experience was unpleasant.

After a good shake, the two let go. Not even a second after she released his hand did her date push his own hand in, grabbing hold of Oliver. The man had a much stronger grip, squeezing the fresh rather tightly as he shook.

"I'm David. Her husband."

Oliver felt his stomach drop as if he were riding on the world's steepest roller coaster. This wasn't some random date. This was a man she was in a committed relationship with.

"Oh my God, stop drooling over a married woman, you idiot. Dad raised you better than this!" Oliver scolded himself inside his head.

"Well, it's really nice to meet you! B-Both of you!"

David seemed to tone down his icy demeanor, giving Oliver a slick smile as he leaned back against the fabric of the booth. He tugged his wife to his chest, letting her cuddle up to him. Even with their intimate embrace, she still watched Oliver with big doe eyes.

"So! What can I get you started off with for drinks?"

Sis opened her mouth to speak, but wasn't able to get a word out. David deprived her of that.

"Bottle of Pinot Noir for the two of us to share. Red is the best. Right, doll?"

To Oliver's surprise, Sis didn't look happy with that choice. Her lips were stuck in a pout and she was looking down at her lap in disappointment.

"David, I've told you a thousand times, I don't like red wine. I want Chardonnay!" she whined.

"Hush, darling. Daddy knows best for you~"

That didn't sit right with Oliver. Seeing her uncomfortable made him uncomfortable too. Did her husband have a habit of forcing choices she didn't want? He seemed pretty pushy. Not to mention condescending as hell.

He nodded as he made his way past the curtain and down the hall to where the wine cellar was. While he was able to find the Pinot without issue, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the wall of white wines.

It wouldn't be very fair to not at least offer the lady a choice.

When he made his way back into the private area, Oliver held out the two bottles he had grabbed on his way out. David raised his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed the Chardonnay label.

"I hope you don't mind! I wanted to provide some options so everyone could get what they wanted."

The blond didn't like the decision to bring out the white wine, but it thrilled his wife to have her favorite drink as an option. Oliver couldn't deny she looked extra beautiful with the look of happiness on her face.

He popped open both bottles, carefully pouring each drink into their glasses. While David stared him down with deep focus, Sis was more relaxed with her expression. She mouthed a 'thank you' when she had her wine prepared. Oliver gave her a polite nod, but little did she know that on the inside, his heart was getting quite fluttery from the way she looked at him.

"Now then! What can I get the two of you for tonight?"

"Oh? Did they not tell you our regular orders?" David asked, raising an eyebrow. His lips were curled back into a smirk, taunting Oliver with a deep smugness. "You seem to have a long way to go in this business, kid."

He wanted to tell the guy off for mocking his newness to the restaurant, but Sis beat him to the punch.

"Oh David, be nice! You're gonna scare the poor boy off!"

David turned his gaze from Oliver back to his wife. There was a deep, intense focus in his icy blues. It was as if he was trying to speak to her without speaking out loud. The way Sis slunk back into the cushion of the booth made it seem like whatever message he was attempting to give got to her. It was like watching a small bunny cower under the intimidating stare of a wolf.

Oliver gripped his pen and notepad tightly, fighting back the anger boiling within him. He still remembered how, when he was a little kid, his father taught him that men who tried to control and hurt women were cowards. Pure Scum of the Earth. This guy was no different if he thought it was okay to act that way with his own wife.

"She'll have the chicken parmesan and a Caesar salad."

"Actually, Sir," Oliver spoke, not bothering to write down the order. "I would rather let the lady speak for herself, so I know for certain she's getting what she wants."

David didn't like that one bit. It positively baffled him that someone would talk back to him in such a way. Oliver stood his ground, not breaking eye contact with him for even a second.

Though David was furious at such treatment, Sis was elated by it. She appreciated the respect the redheaded server was granting her. The smile on her pretty face was all Oliver needed to know he did the right thing.

"Well! As a matter of fact, I was interested in trying some New York strip. I've been hearing really great things about it from my girlfriends!"

Oliver was more than happy to write that down for her. He eagerly scribbled away as she told him how she wanted the steak cooked and what kind of veggies she wanted for a side. Oliver even made a note to bring her extra potatoes as a way to show her extra care.

"I'd be happy to get that for you, Miss."

"Oooh! I haven't been called 'Miss' in quite some time. Aren't you a charmer~"

His cheeks were positively flushed with redness from her sweet coos of praise. It was worth it, even with her husband staring him down with a burning hatred.

"And for you, Sir?"

"The same. But make my steak rare. I have quite an appetite for something bloody."

Now Oliver wasn't feeling as confident in himself. Normally he would dismiss these comments as coming from someone trying too hard to be tough after listening to too many podcasts on being an "alpha male".

This was not one of those times. Something about the way David looked at him made it seem as if that was to be taken as a genuine threat. That he better mind his business or else he would be the one to become a bloody piece of dead meat.

Any confidence Oliver had before was promptly shut down. With a quick flick of his pen, he finished writing out the order and gave a nod before scampering off back to the kitchen. The sooner he got out of David’s sight, the better.

“How’s it going back there?” one server asked Oliver while clumsily put in the order. She must have sensed his nervousness from all the way back in the kitchen.

“It’s interesting…” he admitted. “That woman is really nice, but her husband looks like he wants to bite my head off.”

Oliver had been exaggerating when he said that, but when he glanced over at his coworker, she had a look of genuine concern on her face.

“Listen to me, Ollie. Just play it safe. David is not someone you want to mess with. Just be quick, respectful, and get out of his way so he can spend time with his wife. It’s your best chance at surviving the night.”

The redheaded boy let out a deep sigh as he passed the order along to the chefs. She was right. He couldn’t let his budding crush on a random customer cloud his judgment. All he had to do was work hard, and not let his emotions get the better of him. If everyone was happy, then he would be happy too.

“Okay. I can do that,” he said. “I appreciate everyone looking out for me.”

“No problem,” she replied, giving him a pat on the back before turning to leave. However, she didn’t get far before thinking of one last piece of advice to give.

“Oh! By the way! Don’t be shocked if those two are…heavy on the PDA. David’s quite wealthy, so Giuseppe lets him get away with more lewd stuff. If you see something, don’t say anything.”

That certainly wasn’t something Oliver was expecting to hear in terms of advice. He wasn’t even sure to what extent she meant by that. It wasn’t until he grabbed a basket of fresh bread for their table and made his way back to the area behind the curtain that he finally understood.

And boy, did he get an eyeful.

David had Sis firmly perched on his lap, letting her straddle him as he feverishly kissed her. Her hands were holding onto both sides of his face, stroking his beard lovingly. They both moaned into their kiss, pawing at one another as if they hadn’t experienced a sensual touch in ages. Tongues dancing together and bodies moving.

David had pulled down the fabric of her dress, letting the girls out for anyone coming by to see. It wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t have a bra on under such a skimpy piece, but it was still quite a shock to see a half-naked customer going at it with their lover without a care of who came their way.

Oliver kept his mouth shut, still very much shocked by the lustful display, but now knowing better than to say anything. Even if this wasn’t normal for the restaurant, he would still be a bit too shy to ask them to stop. All he did was silently move to place the basket on the corner of their table. They could take the basket whenever they finished..

His green eyes glance up just for a mere moment, moving without his control. He didn’t mean to, but even in that split second, his gaze locked onto the lady. Sis’ eyes opened, catching Oliver in her peripheral vision. The poor boy froze in place, hand still on the bread basket and eyes widening as the beauty watched him. Meanwhile, David’s eyes were still closed, his mouth now on her neck to nibble and kiss at her soft-looking flesh. Only Oliver and Sis were watching one another.

Oliver was certain she was going to scowl at him. Tell him to beat it so she could continue getting frisky with her hubby. But she didn’t. In fact, she did the opposite.

She smiled at him.

A smile that was a perfect mix of sweet and spicy. Something that showed she liked having him nearby for company, but also a hint of desire from him watching them. Her beautiful brown eyes were shimmering in the light, while her long lashes fluttered in a playful manner. She puckered her lips to make a kissing motion at him.

Was she….flirting with him? All while riding her husband?

Oliver was far too overwhelmed to even consider the idea. He scampered off out of the room, leaving the couple be in order to rush back to the kitchen. Better to let them be before his face went full-tomato in color. Even still, while he tried to keep busy with his tasks, his heart was beating a mile a minute.

By the time the dishes were ready to be served, he had managed to pull himself together enough to bring out their food with complete professionalism.

Sis and David looked more than satisfied. All snuggled up with one another. They had dressed up again, and their hair was a bit messier and faces flushed compared to the last time Oliver had popped in.. All he had to do was act like he HADN’T just seen them in a romantic embrace.

“Here you are! I really hope you enjoy the meal!"

The excited grin on Sis' face as she watched him set her plate of food down was all too sweet. She really was a beautiful lady, and every moment he made her happy ended up making Oliver happy, too.

Still, he wanted to make sure both of them were satisfied with their service. With the same friendly smile on his face, Oliver turned to David to set his own dish down, too. Unfortunately, he didn't get the same expression of delight that Sis had shared. David kept his lips pressed tight in a grimace. His entire body was in a tense form. Eyes of crystal blue were watching him with unblinking focus, like a hawk stalking its prey.

Everything about David was making Oliver nervous, but it wasn’t the intensity that finally made him stumble. It was how, for a split second, the color of his irises seemed to flash to a bright yellow right before Oliver’s very eyes.

Oliver jumped as he was setting the plate down, knocking into David’s glass of wine in the process. A sea of dark red wine sloshed outward, cascading onto the table, the cloth on top of it and down onto the lower half of Sis’ dress.

“Ah!!” she gasped. “SHIT! No! I just got this from Italy!”

The boy’s eyes widened in shock, tearing away from David and focusing just on the lady whose dress he had just ruined. She looked so upset, and it made him feel deep shame and fear, overwhelming his senses with panic. The blood in his face drained, leaving him completely pale.

“O-Oh! I am SO sorry, Miss!” Oliver stammered.

“Now look at this mess,” David tsked, crossing his arms and shaking his head. Unlike Sis, who was showing worry over her beautiful gown, he had an aura of disappointment. He was acting like a parent getting ready to give their child a firm scolding.

Unbeknownst to Oliver, David was already planning how he would teach him a lesson for ruining his wife's belongings. He would make the poor server boy realize just who he had messed with. Really make him sorry for his actions.

But he didn't get the chance.

"Please let me fix this!"

The redhead was quick to jump into action, first grabbing an unused cloth napkin and dunking it into an untouched glass of ice water to soak it. He kneeled down in front of Sis' seat and began gently blotting at the stain on her dress. Even with the dark fabric hiding the redness, he wanted to prevent any discoloration on the garment. All the while Sis watched with a worried expression.

"Don't worry! I know some tricks to help with this."

In between dabbing with the wet, cold rag, Oliver grabbed a nearby salt shaker and sprinkled some salt into his palm before rubbing it evenly over the red stain.

"Let that sit for a few minutes," he explained, getting back up to his feet and moving the items on top of the table around so that the soaked tablecloth could be removed from their sight. "After I toss this into the laundry pile, I'll grab some more stuff to finish cleaning!"

Oliver was off like a shot, racing against the clock so that the stain wouldn't set. He wouldn't possibly forgive himself if he ruined their night by his clumsiness. He wasn't even thinking about the odd moment with David's eyes. All he remained focused on was getting all the necessary supplies from the cleaning closet.

With his tools in hand, Oliver returned to the dining area, kneeling once again by Sis' side. The salt had come in handy for pulling a good amount of the red color out, but the next part would add an extra kick for help. Oliver's hands moved in a blur as he poured dish soap and hydrogen peroxide into a spray bottle. With the liquids measured to his liking, Oliver sealed and shook up the bottle to a sudsy consistency.

"Wow! Aren't you an efficient thing?" Sis smiled, holding out the fabric so that he could evenly spray the stain. "Where'd you learn this trick, honey?"

"Oh, my dad knew a lot about preserving clothes whenever they got stained, ripped, or worn out," Oliver explained. "Growing up, we had to make our stuff last as long as possible. Didn't have money to burn on new clothes all the time."

That's the understatement of the year, he thought to himself. Piles of bills and his father's restless nights worrying about being able to feed his child weren't something to take lightly. Still, he didn't want to burden the couple he just met with his life story. All he wanted to do was to fix his mistake so their date wasn't spoiled.

"Listen, I do feel bad about the mess. If the stain is still there by the time you're finished with your meal, I'd be more than happy to pay for any other cleaning you get done for it."

As much as Oliver wanted to offer to pay for the dress itself, he could not possibly afford the cost of a luxury brand dress straight from Europe. Not unless he saved his money for the next 50 years. Still, Sis' kind smile told him the offer he had given flattered her.

"Don't you worry your sweet head, hun," she cooed, tucking a finger under his chin and tilting his head up a bit more. Oliver softly gasped at the gesture, cheeks flushing red once again.

"Yes. She's right," David spoke up. Oliver nearly jumped out of his skin when he remembered her husband was right next to them. "Thank you for cleaning her up. It's good to know Giuseppe knows how to pick the best and most competent people to work here."

After a dinner of going back and forth between smugness and fear-inducing intensity, it was a relief to see David actually pleased with his work. Oliver quickly scampered back to his feet so he wouldn't push his luck with being so close to the guy's wife. Even if it was nice being around her, he wasn't a home-wrecker.

The rest of their night went off without a hitch. Both of them got to enjoy their delicious steak dinners in peace, and Oliver managed to keep their glasses topped off without spilling another drop. By the time he delivered the check to their table, it was safe to say he had redeemed himself.

"It was a pleasure serving you both tonight! How's your dress looking now?"

"Good as new all thanks to your quick thinking, hun!" Sis beamed, showing off the bottom half of her dress. Sure enough, Oliver's work had left it spotless once again. "I want to properly thank you for doing that for me."

Oliver wasn't one to take on acts of service for any rewards. He simply liked to make himself useful and ease the burden of others. But with the excited glint in Sis' eyes as she nudged her husband, he couldn't bring himself to decline such an offer.

That was until David dug into his pocket and pulled out the most massive wad of cash Oliver had seen in his entire life. He was practically bug-eyed at the sight. David reached out to place the stack of bills in his hand, but he shook his head 'no'.

"Wh-Whoa! That's very generous of you, but I can't possibly accept that much money from you!"

David was already intimidating enough. Having the ability to throw money around like it was nothing didn't help that feeling. Besides, he was just doing as his father would have done. Not accepting charity for basic decency.

"It's nothing! I haven't had such amazing service in a long time!" Sis insisted. "You worked hard and I can already tell you're gonna be our favorite server here. Let me show my thanks, Oliver."

Sis plucked the cash wad out of David's hand and reached her hand out to tug at Oliver's apron. He softly gasped as she tucked the money into his pocket, giving his chest a light pat afterwards. He felt like his head was going fuzzy.

"Besides…I have a soft spot for cuties with freckles~"

Oliver's heart was practically doing backflips in his chest. The couple smiled playfully as they put their arms around one another, ready to leave together. By the time they had moved past the curtain and exited the restaurant, he was still standing in place with a bright red set of cheeks and a pocket full of hundreds.

He would definitely be asking his boss for more dinner shifts going forward.

"It's amusing he put in all that work fixing the stain, considering you're gonna get it covered in blood for our hunt later."

David and Sis were enjoying the remaining moments of their date night together. With the light of the full moon illuminating the path of the Santa Carla streets, they could enjoy each other's company and keep their eyes out for a victim or two.

"He was a sweet guy," Sis sighed, nuzzling against her husband's shoulder. "Very polite, dedicated, hardworking. I overheard his thoughts, too. Poor thing struggled when he was growing up. He comes from humble beginnings."

"Yeah, and he thought I was being an asshole."

"You're just soooo intimidating, Daddy," Sis cooed, stroking his ego. "And he backed off when he found out we were married. He's a respectful boy."

Little did Oliver know that David was one of several partners that Sis was romantically involved with. Humans and their ideas of monogamy were all too amusing to vampires.

David smiled kindly down at his wife, noticing the substantial amount of bliss she was experiencing.

"You really liked him, huh?"

"Yeah. I did," she sighed dreamily. "He was like…a loyal puppy"

Little did she know that the gears in David's head were turning. He adored seeing his queen so happy, especially after the recent traumatic events she had gone through. She was a fighter to the end, and she deserved to feel safe again.

Perhaps the pup would come in handy to his queen.

end of part 1

Tag List: @britany1997 @michael-after-hours @6lostgirl6 @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @american-idiot-jpg @vampirefilmlover @legal-lost-boy @crustyraccoon @ghoulgeousimmaculate @crustyboypix @oceansrose2002 @desoolate @palomam18 @themarginalthinker @bloodywickedvamp @vigdys @charlizekkelly

#the lost boys #tlb #party the pain away #female oc #male oc #the lost boys x oc

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distort-opia · 2 years ago

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do you ever think that joker's character would be hated less if harley was never created? dont get me wrong i love her, its just that her inclusion in the first place was for joker to beat the gay allegations and the abuse isnt rlly fun imo. whining about this is kinda pointless since we cant change the past but i just wanted to hear how you feel about this topic

Mm. This is a bit complicated. I know that it's a popular belief, the idea Harley Quinn was created to make Joker appear less queer, but that's not entirely rooted in fact. Not saying this motivation didn't play a role at all, but if you read up on Harley's origins, some writers involved were against her becoming a regular character on BTAS because it would humanize Joker too much to have a love interest; that was a significant concern. When introducing her to main comic continuity, Dini specifically had Joker be as dark and murderous towards her from the start, and this persisted in most comics featuring them afterwards.

It's not Harley's sheer existence that contributed to the hatred for Joker's character in recent times, in my opinion. It's three combined factors: her redemption arc for the past decade or so, Joker's abusiveness towards her, and the fact she was given a female love interest in Poison Ivy (which turned her into explicit queer representation). The draw of Harlivy as a ship and of Harley being depicted as an abused woman standing up for herself was understandably massive, for a big segment of fandom. And unfortunately, many were eager to forget about Harley's past crimes and choices because of this; after all, it's not difficult to just blame Joker for all the "evil" parts of Harley in order to justify her actions. Joker undoubtedly had a big influence, but it really takes away from her character if her agency is denied entirely (I do hate this recent cross-fandom tendency to take conflicted darker characters and sanitize them). And there is something to be said about Joker being written as a one-dimensional abusive asshole, in order to uplift Harley's character arc and make her triumphs over him more impactful. It is a pity... while I can't say I am a fan of Harley, I find her interesting, and her relationship with Joker has some fascinating aspects to it that get downplayed and ignored in this wave of oversimplification. The main reason she stayed with him was because she thought there was humanity to him, and that she could be the one to bring it out. The tragedy of it, of course, is that she's not wrong-- it's simply that Joker is pretty much incapable of seeing anyone other than Batman as an equal and a fellow human being. Joker does care about her in his own twisted way, but as an extension of himself; a possession, something he created. He also treats her as an extension of himself, which is to say... badly. Because despite how contradictory it might seem at first glance, Joker is suicidal and self-loathing.

Anyway, an analysis of Jarley isn't the point of this :)) To make a long story short, it's true that Harley never being created would've led to none of this happening... but thing is, I do think a female sidekick was inevitable. If they didn't give Joker Harley Quinn, they would've come up with a different character like her eventually, and then who knows where that would've gone. And even if you try to imagine a world with Joker having no one like Harley in his story... the current hatred towards Joker in Tumblr and Twitter circles is quite intertwined with the rise of purity culture and with Joker fatigue (due to DC's overuse of him). Joker as a villain is associated with alpha male toxicity and the whole "we live in a society" mindset, which instantly makes fans on this side of the fence wary; although, even leaving aside the fact Joker has killed countless people in canon, it's more that he shot Barbara Gordon and killed Jason Todd that gets him the biggest amount of hatred. Of course that his abuse towards Harley plays a big part as well, but personally, I don't think it's the main cause. Batman has so many villains, but few of them have harmed Bruce and his Family as personally as Joker has. Seeing as the fandom for the Batfamily is the biggest one, it's not surprising that Joker is disliked within it. (Which is perfectly fine. Issues only arise when fans don't make the distinction between reality and fiction and begin to harass each other over make-pretend non-existent people.)

#I do specifically say Twitter and Tumblr because #the more mainstream Batman fandom (on Reddit for instance) is a different beast #Joker is disliked there too but for different reasons and not as badly #anyway. hope this satisfied your curiosity anon!#asks #batman #joker #joker meta #my meta #discussion of abuse

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void-galaxy-shenanigans · 2 years ago

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¿What did Bruno & Mirabel have in common? ¿How were they different?

I dunno if this has been talked about before but...

Both Mirabel & Bruno are scapegoats turned cycle breakers.

The difference is Mirabel found the courage to stand up to Abuela sooner (see the collapse of Casita where Mirabel finally snaps, & then the scene where Bruno rushes in on a horse to defend Mirabel from Abuela & snaps “I don’t care what you think of me”).

Mirabel gave Bruno the hope to stand up to Abuela, by showing him with her questions & actions that she was just like him & he wasn’t as alone as he felt.

Bruno felt like he was the only one who saw the danger & impending collapse of the family. No one else felt safe acknowledging it, so he got isolated & kicked out. Then of course he got scapegoated because if the villagers understood how vulnerable the family was, Abuela was terrified they would take advantage of the family’s perceived weakness. Abuela had intense trust issues against the villagers & didn’t want to *appear* weak. So she let her son become the village’s villain, so they wouldn’t trust him more than her & investigate what actually happened to him.

Mirabel, once she realized the miracle was dying, went digging to uncover the same issue Bruno saw: that the family was on the verge of collapse. She saw through the family secrets & observed the doom without any magic necessary. She saw people collapsing under the weight of Abuela’s expectations. And she seeks *reasons* for hope. She seeks people who know something about how to save the miracle, about why it’s dying, any clue she can to advance her cause.

She doesn’t care if she has to do it alone because she’s been an outcast since she was ~5 years old due to not having powers, whereas Bruno had a good relationship with his sisters (shown in All Of You near the end) & then got outcasted *afterwards*. She’s able to instill her own hope, while Bruno gave up when he realized no one would listen to him (because they already thought he was crazy due to what kind of power he had)....until Mirabel didn’t think he was crazy & gave him hope that at least one person believed him.

They both rely on hope to break the cycle. Because to break a toxic family dynamic, to make a healthy family out of an emotionally abusive one, you need hope.

The difference is Bruno looks for outside sources of hope. He looks for support from a community that, at the time, felt safer closing their eyes & ignoring him. Mirabel finds hope inside herself because she had to, so when the community doesn’t want to help her she decides to do something herself.

Abuela made Bruno not trust himself, so that he would look to her for direction. & when he chooses his own direction (running so Mirabel will stay safe a little longer), he gets vilified.

Mirabel was forced to trust herself, because Abuela rejected her for not having powers.

Both of them had the mixed gift/curse of seeing through the metaphoric cracks to realize the family needed change, hope, & love. Bruno was just trained not to trust himself while Mirabel had no choice.

Mirabel was the most neglected by Abuela, because she didn’t have powers. Bruno was clearly emotionally/psychologically abused (stuttering, hunched in on himself, jumpy, learned to walk quietly so as to sneak past his mother so he couldn’t get yelled at as often, apologizes repeatedly when he realizes he snapped at Mirabel...even after 10± years hiding from Abuela) more intensely than Mirabel.

They click with each other because though they were scapegoated for different reasons at first, they ended up scapegoated for the exact same reason (failing to live up to Abuela’s expectations, terrified of her, realized she’s the reason the magic is dying). Both loved their family *as people*, not for their magic powers, but fell short of Abuela’s very high expectations. So despite being forcefully separated for 10± years, they get along as family in minutes.

I just have a lot of feelings about both of them, as a cycle breaker myself. I relate heavily to both of them; they’re well-written & accurate for our situation.

~Nico (he/they)

#encanto #encanto bruno #encanto mirabel #mirabel madrigal #bruno madrigal #cycle breaker #scapegoat

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detectivehannibal · 4 years ago

Text

New Beginnings

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse.

Requested by: @yestheonewhowrites

Prompt: okay, so if you could do a fic where the reader (preferably female but if not that's okay) had been in an emotionally abusive relationship before and now she is with Hannibal. I'd love if it was just a one shot where he comforts her and makes her feel safe with him. Also, if there could be a part where Hannibal tells her he will always protect her. Thanks!

Word Count: 1,170

“What have we talked about? You never have to explain yourself to me.”

It’s been said before that one bad relationship could make someone never want to fall in love again. It was entirely possible for a person to be so damaged emotionally, mentally, and romantically that they would never want to give their heart to anyone ever again.

You knew that feeling all too well. You didn’t want to run the risk of having your heart broken again. The healing process had been slow for you. You went through the wringer trying to make sense of things. Sure, your last relationship hadn't been a good one. Your previous partner was textbook toxic and abusive, so the relationship needed to end. It was still hard for you to accept that he had started off as such a seemingly good person. You couldn’t comprehend the fact that it had taken such a turn.

Flash forward two years afterwards and you still hadn't gotten back into the dating game. Your friends and family were extremely worried that you would never allow yourself to open up to anyone again. That was until you met Hannibal. Hannibal was different than any person you had ever met. Most people tended to say that about him. He was intelligent, skilled, and probably one of the most patient people you’d ever encountered. He was amazing to you. He was gentle, kind, and compassionate in all aspects.

It didn't take him long to figure out that you had been hurt in the past. He was extremely observant and very rarely missed any details. He saw the way your pupils dilated in fear when he touched you or how you got quiet when you were around someone who had raised their voice. He noted how you asked permission to do quite literally anything that didn’t directly involve him.

He knew all the signs of someone who had been emotionally abused in a relationship. You checked off all the boxes. He hadn't ever brought it up in conversation for fear of triggering some sort of emotional response. He knew it was something you’d bring up on your own terms and when you were ready. He was perfectly content to wait until then. For now, your relationship would continue to progress at a glacial pace.

You were slowly (but surely) beginning to feel yourself grow more comfortable with him. He would assure you that you didn't need his blessing to go out with friends or apologize for things that weren't your fault. You were starting to see the beauty of a healthy, stable relationship. That didn’t mean you didn’t have your bad days, however.

You had an event for work coming up, just a formal ceremony of sorts. You had rummaged through your closet looking for an outfit to wear when you spotted a little number you had pushed towards the back. You hadn’t worn it in at least five years, but it had been your absolute favorite back in the day. You wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it around your ex-lover, considering you had no say in what was “appropriate” to wear or not.

You plucked the dress from your array of clothes and let your eyes graze over it. Your hand caressed the soft material and admired the gorgeous color. There wasn’t any harm in just trying it on, right? You slipped into it, the material comfortably settling on your skin. You admired yourself in the mirror just outside the closet, looking at the way it brought out your best physical features...quite literally all of you.

You smiled softly at the sight, you had missed the feel of wearing your favorite dress. Your smile faded when you caught a glimpse of Hannibal standing in the doorway of your bedroom. His eyes were absolutely lustful, his gaze raking over every part of you. You didn’t catch his obvious attraction due to the panic you were feeling of what he was going to say,

“Darling, you are stunning.” He complimented, entering the room in socked feet.

You were frozen in place, your legs feeling wobbly in response. He wasn’t supposed to see you in this dress.

“Hannibal, uh, I...” You trailed off, nervousness encasing you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and lowered his chin on your shoulder, staring at your reflection. He could feel your heart racing and he caught the look of fright in your expression.

“What's wrong, love?” He questioned, noting that his reaction wasn’t what you were expecting.

“I’m sorry, Hannibal. I can explain, I just-”

“What are you sorry for?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist and staring into your reflection in the mirror; “You look beautiful.”

Your mind took a second to process his words, your hands steadily placed themselves on his arms that were around you. He noted your initial shock, kissing your neck reassuringly.

“What have we talked about? You never have to explain yourself to me.” He spoke softly, making sure his tone wasn’t intimidating.

The rush of relief that you felt was better than any feeling. It was a nice change to be able to wear whatever you wanted without fearing some sort of damaging consequence. This was what a relationship was supposed to be.

“I know, I know. It’s just...he used to be so critical of everything. If I had worn this when we were together...” You paused for a second, turning around and hanging your head; “It wouldn’t have been pretty.”

His hand went to your chin, gingerly raising your head to where you were looking at him. He could see the look of anticipation in your eyes. Opening up wasn't always easy. There were many things that defined a relationship. Honesty, effective communication, mutual trust, teamwork. People in the modern day desperately try to make relationships black and white. They refuse to accept that relationships are just too complex to be too one way or too another way. A real, “perfect” relationship belongs to those who want to understand each other.

“I’m not him. I never will be,” He told you; “I care about you. I love you. I can assure you that you’re always safe with me. No matter what.”

Oh...the L word. The scariest, yet happiest word in the English language. That was the difference with Hannibal. He loved you. He really did. You weren’t ready to say it back. It hurt you to disappoint him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say to him. You wouldn’t tell him something that you weren’t 100% of.

You knew that he would notice that you didn’t return the endearment, but you suddenly realized he wasn't going to do anything that would hurt you over it. He was your safe place, your comfort person. You finally felt like you had found someone that was worth being vulnerable around. That was a huge pressure off of your shoulders.

“You’re awfully patient for putting up with me.” You said, half-jokingly.

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“For you, I have all the patience in the world.”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #Hannibal TV #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter imagine #detectivehannibal

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animeyanderelover · 3 years ago

Note

What's about Kurapika with a Darling who is a member of the Genei Ryodan, but she is a original member that torture and kill the Kurta clan

...No words...

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, paranoia, kidnapping, harsh behavior, abusive behavior, controlling behavior, manipulation, sabotage, mind-breaking

s/o is from the Genei Ryodan

⛓That is quite literally a very toxic relationship to have considering that you killed and tortured his own clan, people he loved more than anything else. It makes Kurapika feeling beyond conflicted and it twists his feelings in a not good way. He finds himself constantly torn apart between hate and love for his darling which affects his mentality and the way he is treating his darling greatly. There are times where he tries to treat her nicely and like a real lover, but there are also moments where he grows incredibly bitter and almost hateful, making him act much more colder and harsh with her.

⛓One thing to start with is that he would have to either have to meet her before knowing who she is and maybe also before she knew who he is, meaning it happened before the York New auction, or he would capture her somewhat afterwards and keep her for some reasons alive, to get on informations for example. In either case it has to be said if his darling would just be a cold and heartless killer, he would kill her without a doubt, he hates the Phantom Troupe too much for that. So he has to see something more to her, that she has a heart and is kind, perhaps even apologizes for what she has done to him and his clan. That is of course no good, it doesn't bring him his people back. But it might show him over time that she is not a complete monster.

⛓Kurapika is...extremely irritated when discovering his feelings and it will end up being a bit of hell for his darling as well. That is if he would meet her for the first time during the Yorknew City arc and try to get on informations from her. In Kurapika's eyes every single member of the Phantom Troupe is evil, all are criminals and even if his view on you should change over time, he still tells himself that you're a villain who happens to carry a bit more humanity inside of you. But that's all and you still killed too many. It is one of those very few times where Kurapika refuses to admit his feelings and it leads him to lashing out on you, not understanding his feelings. Why? You are the person he trained to kill and hate his whole life. So why do you make him weak?

⛓It happens slowly, but at one point he will somewhat stop and his feelings will become more visible and more obvious for him as well as maybe you. He stops hurting you, though you might have a pretty high pain tolerance, not being able to inflict damage on you anymore and he can't bring himself to use his Judgement chain on you either, knowing that you will break the conditions he made for you which ends with you dying in the end, loyal to your members and your leader. Because personally think that if he would have used it on his darling from the start, she would have rather died than tell him anything, especially after he killed Uvogin and Pakunoda.

⛓That's why I feel that the whole meeting her before knowing who she is, is more likely, though even there I see troubles. To start with Kurapika will tell his darling at one point who he is and what his plans are, alarming her already which might lead to her distancing herself from him due to feeling not worthy of being friends with someone who she killed the whole family from without him knowing. What else would someone feel in such a situation? It might confuse Kurapika, especially if he already liked her a bit and saw her as a friend.

⛓And after finding out that she is from the Genei Ryodan, Kurapika is a pure mess of emotions and the thought of just having been friends with a criminal this whole time messes badly with his mind. Still though, he just can't bring himself to hurt her, especially not if she hesitates as well when facing him, not wanting to hurt himself either. Of course she would sacrifice her own life for Chrollo and the troupe, but as I said, Kurapika won' fall for someone plainly motionless and cruel, especially if this person killed everyone in his clan. So there might be a chance that all of this has a hard toll on the darling as well which leads her to just realizing that she can't bring herself to kill him nor be a help hor the troupe either. It might bring her to the point of despair where she might just ask him to kill her, not being able to live like this any longer.

⛓It makes Kurapika stop in his tracks, seeing it on the one hand as a chance to kill another member of the troupe, to slaughter all of them. But as soon as he tries to strike down, he just freezes, body shaking and emotions stirring up to the extent inside of him where he feels like throwing up at any moment.

⛓Instead of killing you, he kidnaps you, knocking you out and taking you with him, keeping you chained up as often as possible and also making sure that you stay unconscious as often as possible so you don't put up too much of a fight. Kurapika just doesn't know what to do with you at this point, he can't kill you nor can he let you go. So instead he takes you with him, imprisoning you somewhere whilst deciding afterwards what will happen with you. And even in here the first few weeks or even months will be hell. He has his outbursts, lashing verbally as well as maybe even physically out on you when being triggered too much.

⛓Kurapika feels more than anything just extremely betrayed from you, a person he thought he could trust which is why he grows extremely paranoid and doesn't want to let you out of his side, terrified you will do something and try to attack him. This is the reason why he might actually really just search for a way to get rid of your nen abilities, though he also knows that this would make you utterly helpless if you are being attacked by someone. He debates over this topic days and nights and if you really end up trying to escape and attacking him with your abilities, he'll do it.

⛓He is just desperate to find an excuse to why you are the way you are, stealing and killing, without having to see you as a bad person anymore. He wants to believe in something which might push him to the point of becoming partly delusional due to not bearing this knowledge whilst being aware. He might come up with this certain mood swings where he manages to convince himself that his darling was being forced to do all of this and that she's just being manipulated from all the othe members of the Phantom Troupe.

⛓Which is why Kurapika totally ends up wanting to break his darling's mind the one or another way, though he sees it more as helping her. Kurapika feels convinced that he only wants the best for his darling and wants to help her leaving the terrible past behind her, starting a new and better life which he wants to assist her with. And he becomes extremely pushy with it as well, desperate to make her switch sides and believe what he believes. Kurapika becomes an incredibly controlling, strict and manipulative person, constantly pushing his darling's buttons and forcing her to endure all of this. And if he knows that she feels guilty about what she has done, he will mercilessly strike and tell her in detail how he felt after his clan died and what she did to them, letting her recall those moments again. Kurapika becomes cruel, not necessarily physically, but more mentally since he tortures his darling. And whilst he does feel guilty when he manages to constantly break her, he never completely loses the grudge and bitterness he holds against her. He just justifies his behavior with saying that this is the only way to help you out of all of this.

⛓And even if you do start to love him and bend to his will, Kurapika will never truly trust you, his paranoia constantly telling him that all of this might just be an act and you will escape as soon as he trusts you and leaves you free space which is exactly why he is so controlling to start with. Next to that he is beyond horrified what might happen if the Phantom Troupe comes after you and either lures you back or ends up killing you because Kurapika also used the chance to squeeze as much informantions out of you as he could about them. Of course he does grow softer over time, but it is just visible that he'll never be able to calm completely down or treat his darling completely normally. He doesn't treat her bad, but when he has his times where he gets haunted from the death of his clan, his darling is not the best person to turn to since seeing her triggers extremely bad memories which is the reason why Kurapika sometimes just has to distance himself from her, literally not being able to stand the sight of her. It is in all honesty a relationship akin to bittersweet and deathly poison if you get what I mean.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere kurapika #yandere kurapika kurta

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heejinnien · 4 years ago

Text

j.jungkook | monsters

word count: 4.5k

pairing: jungkook x reader

synopsis: in the darkness is when the monsters rise.

genre: horror, angst, demon au

warnings: implied minor character death, implied toxic relationship, brief description of gore, death threat, brief violence

author’s note: please do not read this fic if any of the topics listed in the warnings is upsetting or triggering for you. this fic is based on the tale of the hungarian demon, the lidérc. they feed off of nightmares and fear. my beta readers (thank you so much to @voiceswithoutlips-kas, @elcie-chxn, and ryan for beta reading this fic for me) have told me that this fic might be confusing to read at first, so please read it in its entirety. i promise that every detail serves a purpose. that being said, the entire fic will be placed under the read more cut, as triggering content is mentioned right from the start. the banner was made by @voiceswithoutlips-kas, thank you so much.

cross posted to ao3 here

Now

He's dead, the doctors tell you.

The surgeon in charge of the procedure that was supposed to save your husband's life murmurs his condolences, explaining how your husband's body rejected the new organ. They tried their best, he explains, but once your husband's body had decided to reject it there was not much they could do.

It's almost ironic how he died, considering the numerous ways you thought he would go over the years due to the reckless activities he constantly engaged in. Each time he would leave the house you feared for his life, feared that one day he would no longer return to you. Now, it seems, your worst fears have come true.

When the news finally sinks in you let out a sob, although whether it is one of relief or one of despair you can't quite decipher.

Despite the fact that he loved berating you, loved tearing you down until you were entirely reliant on him, you still loved him. Until death do us part, you had promised on the day of your wedding, and you still loved him as much as you did when you were both teenagers in high school. Going on a date with him sparked the same chaos of butterflies in your stomach as it did on your first date, and you were giddy over the smallest amounts of affection, willingly bending over backward trying to please the man who used to be your husband even at your own discomfort.

In the first days of your marriage, your friends and family would visit you. You had bought an apartment together in the city so that he would be close to his work. You had your reservations at first, but he slowly convinced you of the idea. Of course, he could convince you to walk across glass and you gladly would, for him.

And, at first, you were delighted when somebody would visit you. Your husband had insisted he would provide for your every need, so you didn’t work. You also didn’t leave the apartment, as your husband had also insisted it was too dangerous for you. You had initially become hurt at his words, but when he explained it was merely because you weren’t used to the city and that he would take you out whenever you needed to go out, you accepted his words without argument.

Then

“Y/N,” one of your friends had said abruptly during her visit. You were conversing casually over tea, yourself perched on the edge of your sofa and her on a loveseat opposite you. She leaned forward, worry creasing her face. “I think you should come back home.”

“I’m fine, Soodam,” you replied, startled at her words and setting your tea cup down loudly. “I love my husband, and I love the city.”

Soodam pursed her lips. “From what I’ve seen, your husband keeps you prisoner here.”

You stood indignantly, anger flaring inside you at her words. “He does not! He just wants what’s best for me.”

“How many times have you been into the city then, Y/N?” Soodam pushed, standing up after you. She stepped closer, and you shied away, suddenly nervous.

“I… That doesn’t matter.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to put space between you and Soodam. No matter how much you desperately wanted her to stay away from you, she continued to follow you, grabbing your arm to prevent you from running away from her.

“Y/N, please listen to me,” she begged. “You haven’t been the same since you married him and you know it. The apartment is the only place your husband allows us to meet, and he keeps you like a dog on a leash.”

You yanked your arm out of her hold, anger bubbling inside you like a volcanic vat near explosion. How dare she talk ill of you and your husband like that, she didn’t know anything about you.

“Get out,” you spat harshly, wiping furiously at the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes.

Soodam’s eyes widened, and her voice softened. “Y/N, please. I miss you.” She stepped forward again. “Come home with me.”

“I — ” You trembled, suddenly unsure. Your previous anger dissipated within a second, and you stared at your longtime friend. Sensing your hesitation, Soodam continued, this time with a renewed vigor.

“Your parents miss you, Y/N, I miss you. Please, just come back with me and — ”

“That will be enough, Soodam.”

The aforementioned girl gasped, and you looked to see your husband standing in the doorway to the living room, face stoic but eyes burning with anger. He spared you a brief glance before moving into the room, making your friend suddenly cower back in fright.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Scared, Soodam stared at the floor, grabbing her purse from the coffee table and immediately walking in the direction of the door. Before she could get there, your husband grabbed her arm, much as she had done to you earlier, and whispered in her ear. She nodded, face ashen, staring at the ground and refusing to meet your pleading gaze. Moments later, she was gone.

Silence permeated the apartment. Then, “She won’t be returning.”

You knew better than to question your husband’s wishes so you nodded, throat dry. Your husband let out a harsh laugh at your obedience, before dropping his briefcase by the front door. Without so much as another word, he strode down the corridor leading to his office, the sound of a door slamming ringing through the same passageway moments later. The silence afterwards was even worse than your husband’s wrath, the emotions of the past few seconds catching up to you once again and settling upon you like an unwanted blanket.

That was the last time you saw your friend.

Now

You can't remember the first time you feel as though you are being watched. It might have to do with the first time you see him, as after your first encounter you never consciously feel safe again.

The days following your husband's death seem to pass by in a blur, and sometime during them he appears, slowly forcing himself into every aspect of your life until he is a constant fixture you can no longer ignore.

The first time you see him is during your husband’s funeral. The sky is a somber grey, as if it can sense your mood, and an icy wind nips at anything within its grasp. It is the beginning of winter, and the cold is sharp, chilling you to the bone despite the numerous layers you have on. The funeral is brief, more of a formality than anything. Strangers give you their condolences, and it only serves to remind you of how little you truly know about your husband.

It is when the casket is being lowered into the ground that you see him, standing among the group of mourners.

He is huddled in the center of the group, head bowed. Something about his presence draws you to him, and you don’t realize you’re staring until he looks up, making direct eye contact with you. You quickly look away, face burning with shame. Imagine how it must look, you mentally chide yourself, the wife of a dead man checking out another at his funeral.

You chuckle, the sound empty and devoid of any humor. Luckily for you, at that moment, the casket is finished being lowered. The priest in charge of the funeral’s addresses hands you a shovel, effectively drawing your attention away from the mystery man. As you send shovel after shovel full of dirt flying onto the casket, he is effectively pushed further and further away from your mind.

It is not until after the procession is over, guests beginning to head back to their cars that he approaches you. You have just thanked the priest for his words, turning to walk back to your car when you let out a gasp.

He is standing right in front of you, broad frame seeming imposing against your smaller one. He cocks his head to the side, holding out one hand for you to shake.

“Hello love,” the man’s voice is silky, and he grasps your hand firmly. Even though it is a simple handshake, the contact sends a shiver down your spine. The man stares at you, his expression unreadable, and you have the sinking feeling that he knows the effect he has on you. “I’m Jungkook.”

“Y/N,” you say similarly, albeit a bit hesitant. He feels familiar, the subtlety of his features causing your memory to tingle, an identification of who he is just outside of your grasp. You assume he is just another one of your husband’s associates, shoving away the niggling feeling to give Jungkook a polite smile, hoping he picks up that to you, the conversation is over.

He does, because he steps to the side, allowing you to pass. As you hurry to your car, the skin on the back of your neck prickles, the feeling of someone watching you causing your hair to stand on end. When you look back, however, Jungkook is gone.

From the funeral, the feeling of being watched follows you everywhere. Coincidentally, so does Jungkook.

You run into him at the store, the park, even the lobby of your apartment complex, since it turns out he is a resident who recently moved in. Each time, he gives you a charming but guarded smile, attempting to strike up a conversation with you. Each time, you give short, uninterested responses, something about Jungkook’s presence causing you unease.

A month after the funeral, you are woken up in the dead of night by a pounding on your apartment door. Heart racing, you jolt away to the sound, fumbling in the dark for your phone. Squinting to read the harsh digital light, you manage to make out that it is three am.

Swearing at the heathen who dares interrupt your sleep, you throw off the covers of your bed, swinging your legs onto the floor and using your phone light to navigate the dark hallway.

By the time you finally reach your front door, the pounding has stopped. Annoyed, you unbolt the lock and yank open the wood, ready to give whoever it is a piece of your mind.

The hallway is empty.

The mysterious incident sets you on guard, only serving to increase your paranoia. Several nights later, you hear it again, only this time you swear you hear something else, too.

A voice, calling your name.

“Y/N,” it says sweetly, almost crooning. Even though you are locked in your room and buried beneath the security of a multitude of blankets, the voice manages to reach your ears, sickeningly sweet. “Come out, sweetheart.”

You spend the night huddling in your bed in fear, praying for the noises to go away. You are surprised your neighbors haven’t filed a noise complaint about it by now since they’ve complained over lesser, you think, a thought that dryly amuses you.

Much to your chagrin, the noise continues for the next few nights. Each time you stay huddled in your bed, irrationally hoping that the blankets around you will protect you from whatever it is outside your door.

During the day, you don’t fare much better. You swear you are beginning to lose your mind. You find keys moved, doors left ajar. The fear you feel of being watched only increases.

The last straw that breaks the camel’s back comes when you finally seek out your landlord, demanding to see the security cameras.

“Y/N,” the landlord glances from out of the corner of his eyes at you worriedly as he slots the keys to the security room into the lock. He pushes open the door, gesturing for you to enter first. “I know things have been… stressful for you lately.”

He pauses, flipping on the light switch and illuminating a set of monitors. “Are you sure that someone has been…” He trails off, struggling to repeat what you had told him earlier. “Knocking on your door at three am?”

You glare at the man, and he gulps, effectively silencing himself and preceding to busy himself with the monitors. Hell hath no fury a woman scorned, and you are tired of the constant paranoia that has settled deep in your bones. An uncomfortable silence settles upon you, and you stare unnervingly at your landlord, too sleep deprived and furious to be aware of your rude actions.

“Ah, here it is,” the landlord flashes you a weak smile, pushing a monitor towards you. He clicks his mouse a few times, and footage displaying the hallway outside of your apartment begins to play.

You stare intently at the screen, watching the numbers signaling the time in the corner slowly tick away until finally they reach three am. You hold your breath, and see

Nothing.

Your mouth drops open in shock, and you whirl on your landlord. “Did you tamper with the footage?”

If possible, your landlord looks even more nervous, and he gulps. "I haven’t been in here in the past few days.”

“Try another night,” you demand, desperation welling inside you.

Obediently, he speeds up the tape until it is the following day. And, like in the previous footage, as the clock hits three, the hallway is deserted.

Silence permeates the room.

“Y/N,” the landlord lets out a sympathetic sound, and you don’t realize you have begun to cry until a tear splatters on your shirt. “I think it’s best if you just go back to your apartment.”

Embarrassed and frustrated, you nod, storming out of the room...

And right into Jungkook. Your chin collides with his chest, and you reel backwards, angrily swiping at your tears. The aforementioned individual stares at you, concern lacing his gaze.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you mutter angrily. “Just let me pass.”

Jungkook wordlessly steps to the side, and you quickly hurry past him, now mortified more than anything.

What you didn’t know was that you had just made two, fatal mistakes.

If you had looked into his eyes, you would’ve seen the gleam of delight in his orbs.

If you had turned around, you would have seen the way he smiled.

The footage replaying in your mind, you finally seek out a therapist and book an appointment for the following day. You don’t fall asleep that night, body tense in terror and dread exponentially filling you as the clock ticks closer to three. The knocking, however, never comes, and sometime around the rise of the sun this realization sinks upon you.

You barely make it to your session that day, state in disarray. The many nights of sleeplessness and terror are catching up to you, and you drag your feet down the street, fatigue crashing down upon you.

Somehow, you manage to locate the therapist’s office and scribble down all of your personal information on the clipboard that the receptionist hands you as you enter. You sit in the waiting room, legs bouncing anxiously.

“Y/N?”

You look up as the door opposite you opens and a kind looking man stares down at you.

“Hi, that’s me,” you say, standing and striding over to him. He takes in your worn appearance, eyes kind and compassionate.

“I’m Dr. Kim, but please, call me Taehyung.”

He leads you to a small room just off the main corridor. Several closed doors line the passageway, and at your curious glance Taehyung explains that they are the offices of his coworkers.

His office is small but cozy, a desk on one side and a couch on the other. Bookshelves line the far wall, and a lamp next to the couch gives the room a soft glow. He gestures in the direction of the couch, pulling a chair from his desk over as you sit stiffly.

“Would you like to tell me why you’re here today, Y/N?” Taehyung asks, steepling his fingers on top of his lap and the papers lying there. Your gaze flickers down to the top paper, the sheet you know you had scribbled information on earlier, and he smiles. “I know you already answered that in the pre-screening questions, but I just wanted to ask you instead. It’s always different when someone says it I find.”

Taehyung flashes you a reassuring smile, and you take a deep. With the landlord’s footage playing in your head, you finally manage to open your mouth and say, “I haven’t been able to sleep well lately.” Taehyung nods, as if this is a normal thing, and you push on. “I keep waking up in the middle of the night to this pounding on my door.”

“A pounding?” Taehyung frowns, and the expression sends dread plummeting to your gut.

“I went to the landlord about it,” you say quickly. “But when he showed me the security footage, there was no one there. I swear I’m not crazy, though. It’s almost as if…”

You trail off, forcing your jaw shut before you suggest something crazy.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Taehyung says soothingly. “You’re in a safe place.”

You nod, closing your eyes and attempting to calm your breathing. When you open them, Taehyung is staring at you worriedly.

“Almost as if what, Y/N?” Taehyung gives you another encouraging look. “It’s okay.”

“Almost as if…” You take a deep breath. “As if I’m being haunted by a monster.”

“Monsters?” Much to his credit, Taehyung doesn’t sound mocking at your confession. You nod, throat dry, and he leans forward. “Monsters aren’t real, Y/N.”

“I know that,” you say, your words ending up in an almost whisper. “I just…”

“You wrote that your husband passed away recently, did he not?” Taehyung asks, and you are grateful for the subject change, even if it is to another depressing topic. You nod, and Taehyung continues. “Grief is powerful, and manifests itself differently in everyone. I think that this is just your grief trying to find an outlet.”

“I don’t — ” You protest, but Taehyung quickly holds up a hand to silence you.

“I know it might not seem that way, but trust me, there are no monsters, Y/N.”

You nod slowly, and Taehyung smiles. This time, it’s sharp and sends a shiver down your spine. A dark look passes over Taehyung’s expressions briefly, so briefly you wonder if you imagined it, and then he smiles once again, this one the same, gentle one as before.

“I’ll write you a prescription that should help you sleep.”

“But, Taehyung, that’s not the problem — ”

Taehyung hums, already turning away, and your protests fall on deaf ears.

You end up leaving the session several hundreds of dollars lighter, one prescription heavier, and the worries pressing down upon you still prominent within you.

That evening, when you return to your apartment complex you see Jungkook in your apartment lobby. You had stopped for groceries on the way home, and you are carrying two large paper bags, each one nestled in the crook of your arm.

Jungkook is standing by the elevators. He turns at the sound of you, lip quirked at the sight of you struggling to carry two bags.

“Do you want some help with that?” He asks lightly, brow creasing in concern.

“No, I’m fine,” you reply, your usual answer whenever he asks if he can help. This time, he purses his lips, and you feel a pang of guilt. You think about your therapist’s words, that the sinking sensation you have around him is probably just guilt, and shove down the feeling before saying, “Actually, if you could, that would be great.”

Jungkook beams, taking one of the bags from its precarious grip against you. Moments later, the elevator dings, and the doors slide open. He motions for you to step inside first before following you, pressing the number for your floor. You open your mouth to ask how he knows your floor, but you quickly close it, the therapist’s words ringing in your head. Coincidence, you think.

The ride is silent, the only sound the occasional shuffling as you adjust your grasp on the bag. You find the silence uncomfortable no matter how much you try to convince yourself of your delusion, the sound of the elevator signaling your floor causing you to exhale in relief.

You are the first one off, leading Jungkook to your apartment door. You fumble with your key, shoving it unceremoniously inside the lock and pushing open the door with your hip. You flip on the lights, already heading in the direction of the kitchen before the lights have even fully powered on.

“You can set the groceries down here,” you nod your head in the direction of the counter, setting the groceries down there yourself. Jungkook does the same.

After setting the groceries down, you expect Jungkook to leave but instead he stands, observing you. Unease twists once more in your stomach, and the fact that you two are alone, together, in your home sinks down upon you.

“Thank you for your help,” you say in what you hope is a clear dismissal. Jungkook doesn’t move, continuing to stare at you unflinchingly. You subconsciously step back.

Jungkook steps forward.

“What are you — ”

“Do you not remember me?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, question innocent but voice laced with venom. You swallow, your throat dry, and take another step backwards.

“Uh, no? I’m sorry, you were one of my husband’s associates, right?”

Jungkook scoffs, and in that moment his stance reminds you of a predator. He prowls forward, matching each step you take backward.

“You know who I am, Y/N L/N,” he sneers.

“I don’t — ”

“Yes, you do!” Jungkook spits angrily, slamming his hand into the counter, the loud sound causing you to jump. He cocks his head to the side, eyes twinkling in a mischievous way that has fear coating the inside of your stomach.

“Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it, Y/N?”

To anyone else, the statement may seem harmless, a well known idiom used to caution the overcurious mind. To you, they tear at your memories. You gasp as one particular memory flies to the forefront of your mind.

Then

You gently pushed open the already ajar door of your husband’s office, looking around the room for your husband. You had just finished making dinner and were ready for him to come to the dining room so you two could eat, but he was nowhere to be seen. On his desk, you spotted the tray you had left him for lunch.

You hesitated on the room’s threshold, your husband’s warnings to never step foot in his office ringing in your ears. After a brief mental war with yourself, you finally slipped inside, quickly and silently heading in the direction of his desk.

You picked up the tray, and before you could look away papers resting beneath the tray caught your attention.

“Oh my god — ”

You let out a gasp, the tray slipping from your grasp and crashing to the floor, the sound deafening in the still silence. Face up on your husband’s desk, beneath the tray, was a photograph of a young man. His face and body had been badly mutilated, and the sight made you sick.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from the photo, instead meeting your husband’s steely gaze. The body was pushed to the back of your mind, your heart beginning to race for an entirely different reason.

“I saw the door ajar and just wanted to get your lunch tray,” you stammered, cowering beneath his gaze.

He’s silent, staring at you unnervingly before, “Get out.”

You were all too eager to obey, quickly scrambling in the direction of the door. The entire way you felt your husband’s burning gaze, and you had just passed him when his hand shot out, gripping your arm painfully tight. He leaned down, his lips hovering above your ear and sending shivers down your spine.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N,” he says, words causing your heart to feel as though it has stopped and your stomach to drop out from beneath you. “Be careful of where you look, or else you’ll end up like him.”

You ate dinner alone that night.

Now

“Oh my god.”

You barely register as your legs give out beneath you, weak beneath Jungkook’s menacing gaze as the missing piece to Jungkook’s identification that had been nagging at you ever since you had first seen him finally clicks into place.

Before you had suppressed it, you had wondered why your husband had that picture on his desk. Now, everything clicks.

Your husband had been responsible for Jungkook’s death.

You had never been a violent person, and the sheer gore that you had seen from the photographs had caused you to repress that memory. Now, it is vivid and fresh in your mind, and you shake your head furiously as if that will cause the memory to dissipate.

“It’s not my fault,” you insist, staring into Jungkook’s burning gaze pleadingly. “I’m sorry for my husband’s actions, but — ”

“Shut up,” Jungkook hisses, and suddenly he is in front of you, hand against your windpipe. Your breath hitches in fear, and you swear you see a gleam of satisfaction deep within his dark orbs. “You could’ve done something to stop him.”

“I didn’t know what he was up to, I promise,” you sob, vision blurring with tears. Jungkook coos at the sight, gently stroking the bottom of your chin with his thumb. His touch feels as though it burns against your skin, and you flinch.

“Shh, baby.” Jungkook leans forward until his mouth is against your ear. The moment feels strangely intimate, and his breath sends shivers down your spine, just serving to heighten your fear. Every muscle within your body is tense.

“Your therapist was wrong about me, you know,” Jungkook chuckles, the sound sending warning bells signaling throughout your head. “Monsters do exist.”

His hand suddenly tightens, and you choke as your air supply begins to dwindle. The world around you begins to spin, and as everything fades into darkness you hear Jungkook’s voice one more time.

“I can’t wait to break you.”

You gasp awake, heart pounding. You sit up in bed, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself. As you piece together the details from your nightmare, your hands quickly fly to your throat, gently pressing against it where Jungkook’s hands were. You wince, and you quickly shove your covers aside, flipping on your bedside lamp and stumbling into your bathroom.

When you flip on the switch, you are greeted by a ring of purple and grey bruises around your throat. Your eyes widen in horror as the realization that it wasn’t a nightmare crashes down upon you.

And that’s when you hear it.

The pounding on the door.

#monsters #bangtanarmynet #btscreatorscorner #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jungguk #bts jungguk #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #horror #angst #bts horror #bts angst #bts demon au #bts au

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peachbearies · 4 years ago

Text

Poseidon E.Honoret

𑁍┊synopsis: Edwin and y/n have been together for months but have never taken it further into intimacy due to past relationships but today is one for the books.

𑁍┊Genre(s): Smut

𑁍┊Pairing: Edwin X Fem Reader

𑁍┊warning(s): soft choking, overstimulation, cursing, unprotected sex.

𑁍┊A/N: Mind of Poseidon has been in my head for days so I decided to write a smut about it I hope it’s good!

Proofread: yes/ no

Patiently dawdling for the boys to get off stage y/n scrolled through her tags on Instagram glimmering at how proud she is of the boys, touring with them has been a hassle but damn near worth it, getting out of her house away from a toxic environment. It felt like shimmering out of the water, her eyes wander up from her phone to be met with the man she fell in love with. Edwin was shouting along with the staff congratulating them for another tour date. Edwin was always shirtless by the end of a performance, it was either him or zion. Y/n was used to it, but today seemed different.

She felt the heat rise from the pit of her stomach, traveling through her veins to her cheeks. Letting out a desperate attempt of a sigh, she lingers back to her phone to read a post that happened to land on a hate comment. “Mi Amor don't believe none of that shit” Edwin tilt her head in between his thumb and index, his glistening skin creating moonlights under the light, his eyes holding a gaze of doubt.

“I don't, I just transpired to land on that post. You killed it out there baby” she smiles into his solace his thumb sweeps her cheeks. “I had a fucking blast tonight, something about today that it felt so good” his lips press against her ear already quivering in his touch “but you look rightfully adequate though” the spectacle she was embarking to stymie ignited up still. She laughs it off holding her hand on his wrist.

“Don't prevaricate, you don't glimmer like that when you're with me” she joked, Edwin hauled back with a stoic countenance “it's a farce sweetheart” she laughs “it better be” Edwin sternly ascertains. He plops next to her lobbing his arm around the davenport, she posteriors in his embrace her knees foraging her chest while his other hand fondled her exposed thighs. Nick walked in with a towel throwing one at Edwin that almost hit y/n in the face.

“Nick you wanna die tonight?!” she implored cackling afterward, “how many times you going to jump this man?” zion screeched, “as many times as I need to!” Edwin kisses in the crook of her neck to which she swivels her hand on his jawline.

“You missed me that much hm?” she taunts

“I haven't properly hung out with you in three days princess, of course, I miss your aggravating ass” she flicks his forehead earning a groan with a frown. Zion walks back in the room to see an Edwin in pain on the couch, and y/n smiling while pushing her hair behind her ears. “I swear Everytime I walk in the room Edwin is in pain because of you, you have no remorse” Zion chuckles at the end.

“No, he called me aggravating so I just showed him how aggravating I can be” she cupped his face before kissing his forehead repeatedly mumming soft “I’m sorry” and “I love you”, Zion shifts in his seat sinking into the leather couch “so you further proved his point? , but we all know you’re aggravating” Zion puffed out a cloud before choking a little

“Karma, you dusty tumbleweed” y/n snaps at him, Edwin’s tiny chuckles turn into loud laughters y/n had no choice but to join him in the laughter fest nick stumbling upon the couple scrunched his eyebrows. “Y’all are an evil couple” nick jokes.

When y/n and Edwin got to their hotel rooms, she couldn’t stop staring at his chiseled lines that formed on his stomach, the way his tattoo lines were glossed from the shower he just taken. “Get it together y/n” she mentally spoke to herself. As much as she was attracted to Edwin, they never did anything more than a makeout session. Ultimately Edwin left it up to her if they should go further after hearing the story of her ex boyfriend.

The way he would please himself and not her, if she did come before him, she had to figure out a way on her own. Her ex boyfriend brung down her confidence but a long shot. She didn’t feel comfortable wearing certain articles of clothing, never visited Edwin with light makeup, whenever they used to facetime, her screen was always paused or she’d tell him to FaceTime audio call. Edwin made her feel special reminded her everyday she is loved in the smallest ways. By taking her to get boba, random taco dates at the park.

Zoo visiting. The little things made her happy. Feeling tender endearments on her neck stirs her attention back to earth “what you thinking about princess?” He mumbles on her skin

“You, how much I love you” she lets out In a soft tone, if Edwin wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have caught it “mmm, I love you too darling, what we doing for the night or are we going to cuddle for the remainder of the night” looking up into his eyes, they follow each other’s movements, her hands caressing the structured lines that flexed his muscles, the veins in his hands as they gripped her waist was causing a heat to arise in her cheeks and stomach. Without thinking she cupped his face in her hands giving him a passionate kiss pulling his body on top of hers while she laid flat on the mattress.

His hands positioned on each side of the bed trapping her underneath him, Edwin towered over her as he deepened the kiss by bringing their bodies closer the metallic chains dangled on her skin, the cold sensation along with the passion trailed goosebumps up her spine to her arms. Her fingers caressing his undercut as he pulled away for air, both of their lips vibrant in hues of pink. “I want you” she whispered softly, Edwin maneuvered his fingers through her hair scanning her eyes for an sense of rejection. “You’re sure about this? I’ll wait as long as you want me too, okay?” He reminded her, y/n’s heart swelled even bigger for him.

“I’m entirely sure about this, I trust you so much. I love you so much” her eyes began to water in happiness and adoration, the man before her loved her so much and she loved him just as much “I love you more, this is about you, be vocal darling I’m trying to study everything about you” his plumped lips stickering on her skin from her neck down to her sternum , the tiny moles she had he kisses them all, the scars his lips lingered on longer. His slender fingers hooked on her skirt he found the zipper with ease before removing it from her body.

“I never got to tell you, but this new confidence of yours, looks so good on you” his lips kissing her inner thighs, before kissing the spot she ached for him the most, getting one quiver out her mouth was enough to make Edwin smirk his hands grabbing her ankles pulling her to the edge of the bed. Y/n gasped at his bold action holding her hands onto his forearm. Edwin raises up to her level stamping his lips onto hers before he travels in between her legs. “May I taste you?” He asks twirling her hair in between his fingers. “Please” she lets out desperately.

“Granted” his fingers lifts up the clothing soaking in between her slit, Edwin was so applaud by how beautiful her body is, everything about her screamed “goddess” to him, he felt like the luckiest man in the world to help her on a new journey of loving herself. His tongue lapping the juices produced just by a mere touch. She was puddy in his hands, her fingers reaching up to her mouth to suppress her moans, but Edwin wouldn’t allow it, grabbing her hands with one he wrapped his callouses around her wrists holding them on her stomach. “Hey, I said be vocal with me okay? I won’t ask nicely next time” her thighs quivering just by the sturdiness in his throat.

Letting go of her hands he trusted her to listen to him, his hands cupping the back of her of ankles made her head sink in the mattress, his tongue flicked on her needy bud, his fingers firmly pressed into her ankles, his tongue lapping up her slit creating a mess on his chin down to his Adam’s apple, he widen her legs to get further precision on her bundle of joy. “Oh my god” she desperately sighed, edwins chuckle sent vibration through her body that bought her closer to her edge, Edwin was make it harder for her to catch her breath as stayed in between her thighs her moans became louder by each lap of tongue.

Her pants were starting to break, Edwin loved the sight of her squirming in his hands. Every lap started to increase as she attempted to push him away from her clit, in order to not choke him with her thighs, but that it precisely what Edwin wanted. “Baby-“ she tried to warn him but the bubble in her throat stopped her. On his tongue he felt her twitch while her thighs closed, but he held them open his tongue swiping from left to right on her clit, her chest was heaving in a frenzy “oh my god Edwin” she practically screamed her nails raked down his forearm, her eyelashes prancing on her eyelids.

The rush of her blood made her body lift of the bed begging to close her legs, her second round rushing in fast, her words couldn’t form to tell Edwin what she really wanted. As her mouth opened by silence was taking her moans away, her toes curled with the hooks of her fingers in his hair. Edwin removed his face from the mess he created her legs closed shut with her body twitching without a single touch. Y/n looked up at him the glossy coat on his lips with the shimmer in his eyes made her body sink more into the mattress. “Mmh, you’re so beautiful princess” his eyes wander down to her lips, his lips engulfs hers as his fingers disappear in between her slit, a soft whimper echos throughout the kiss.

Edwins fingers pumps her needy hole, finding her g-spot like a pinned location her breath stammering as her nails grind into his back “look at you mamas, you look so beautiful” his other hand cupping her chin to look at him, the sounds of her juices and his palm repeatedly clapping against her clit. Edwin speeds up the pace moving his fingers in a circular motion, at this point her moans turned into desperate cries tbd louder they became the faster he went “fuck” she coherently “baby— baby I’m coming” a sentence she finally spoke since he’s started. Edwin kept going despite the tears of pleasure rolling down her face.

“I can’t— fuck baby” she grips his wrist while her legs squirm to calm her nerves. Edwin reached his hand down to rub her bud, her back lifting off the bed as she screams his name her juices coating his toned abs made her dig into his forearms while her body shivered “you did so well princess, only I can make you squirt like this” Edwin kissed her inner thigh as she continued to ride out her high. Her eyelashes batting at him slowly, she was seeing stars. Her fingers hooked on his pants attempting to unhook his belt.

Edwin watches how fucked out she looks but still wants more, he removes her hand taking off his clothing for her, she pumped him a couple of times before her thumb kneaded across his tip, she guided his tip into her, already twitching around his length. “You ready for this?” Edwin wipes her tear ducts “yes” was all she could form In that moment. Edwin slowly sinned into her seeing her eyes open slowly by each inch, when he was finally balls deep in, her legs were fumbling and her fingers were latched onto him. “Fuck you’re so beautiful” his fingers hooked underneath her knees as he pumped into her at a slow pace already making her grab the sheets. “Faster-“ she asked politely, her words made Edwin go feral, his thrusts were loud against her skin.

While her moans couldn’t be silenced anymore, the crescents in his forearm, made him almost rode out his high in this very moment but he held back, her legs now placed on his shoulder as their lips touched, his lips nibbling over her earlobe as he planted wet kisses along her neck. Her fingers combing through his freshly new hair cut. She could hear the sounds of how wet she is, the growls Edwin was letting out on her tepid skin as he drilled into her. Their eyes connected and she whispered ‘ I love you’s’ as she came for the what felt like the hundredth time, Edwin wrapped his hand around her throat lightly pressing force as she held his wrist with one of her hands.

Wet kisses connecting them together, beads of sweat dripping off onto her, then gliding onto the mattress, he thrusted into her a couple of times getting her attention on him, her legs wrapped around him in a fight to close,only made him go harder. The collision of their bodies engulfing each other caused her to whimper in euphoria. “I’m coming princess, you’re so beautiful” he wipes her hair back from her face, planting kisses to the crown of her hair.

“Fuck— I’m coming” she announced to him. Pulling his length out, his tip rubbed against her clit helping her ride out her high before he came on her stomach. She twitched at the soft touches of his manhood sliding in between her folds. “Mm edwin” Edwin shushed her with a kiss “I promise I’m done, I just wanted you to know how it feels when you come too baby” he kisses her softly before going to the bathroom to retrieve a damp warm cloth.

“Thank you” she mumbled “for what mi amor?” He asked cleaning her tummy off along with her sensitive spot, she flinched grabbing his wrist with a soft whimper “I’m sorry love” he chuckled a little “no you’re not” she rebuttals, lifting her up he helps her in the bathroom where he already had a bath ready for them.

“Baby” she pouts, Edwin shushed her with a soft endearment, grabbing her hand and helping her in. “ you deserve it”

Edwin laid his chin on her head as they cuddled in the bed, her soft breaths on her chest made him feel so serene, Edwin looked at her sleeping face smiling softly. “I love you so much, I hope you know that” kissing her cheeks he closed his eyes.

“I love you too baby, I hope you’re happy with me” she replied to which he responded by bringing her closer to him nose nuzzled in his neck his arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“ I am”

#edwin honoret #prettymuchimagines #prettymuch #prettymuch edwin #prettymuch smut

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elphiej · 4 years ago

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Be My Light: Chapter 1 Shadows from Our Past

*Pairing: Yoonig X Reader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: Language, violence, gun fight, mentions of abuse, mention for drugs.

Author’s note: Hi everyone, here is chapter one. My editor and I had some conversations about the length; they wanted to shorten it and I wanted to leave it in tact for the sake of the flow. Let me know if the length is too long or not. Also, there are a bunch of easter eggs (bangtan lyrics, iconic outfits, ect. as we continue) let me know what you find. And, of course, thank you for reading and let me know what you liked.

Tag list: @lalalalaloo-blog, @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine, @mrsfortune1306

The sun had just begun to fill the windows of the Lotus Apartment when you stepped out of your unit, coffee tumbler in one hand and bag slung over one shoulder , ready for a gruelingly long shift at Central Mercy Hospital. You let your eyes scan the corridor for any signs of life; no one else in their right mind would be up this early, yet anxiety had you checking the halls before you felt secure enough to fully exit your apartment. Taking out your keys, you pull your door shut and lock the two deadbolts that had become necessary in your mind.

And not just because of the active gang activity in this part of the city.

It had been close to three months since you had come to Central. And over four since you had left your miserable excuse of a ‘boyfriend’; The lying, abusive snake that was Daniel. Just thinking about him made your stomach churn. Your time in Central, alone in your apartment, helped you reflect on your relationship and how toxic it had been. At first, it was nice. He had been your friend. He had been supportive and kind. Then, he was your roommate, taking care of you and being your security in uncertain times. Then, he became your boyfriend. It was nice and normal, something you thought you’d never have. He was protective, at least that’s how you saw it at the time. Looking back now, it was controlling and manipulative. He would say things that you thought were sweet, but now you understood they were horrible things. He said he wanted an obedient, good girl; he’d tower over you and make you feel so small. And for some reason, you believed him. You stayed like that for too long. After you had taken a job, trying to help support the two of you, his behavior got worse. He started to drink, and his abuse became more physical. Afterwards, he’d always say how sorry he was, how much he cared about you, or how he only drank because he was worried about you. Somehow it was always your fault. He wanted you to quit your job at a small medical clinic near his secluded home, but it was your only escape. To make it worse, you found out he had been sleeping with another woman. And still, you stayed with him, because he had fucked your head up so bad that you thought you needed him. The final straw that snapped some sense into you was when you confronted him about the other woman. He had come home from drinking with her and went crazy when you said you were leaving. He screamed, threw you around the apartment, hit you. Then he trapped you against a wall and started choking you. Had you not been able to grab hold of a bottle he had left on an end table and hit him just right, you may not have made it this far.

You left that night with just your backpack full of clothes and the few personal belongings that you had with you, your cellphone, and the money in Daniel’s wallet. And you ran all through the night. You didn’t have a plan or destination but you just had to get as far away from him as you could. A small voice under all the doubt and fear that he had piled on you, cheered and drove you to keep going. You didn’t stop moving until you found a bus stop in the middle of nowhere. The driver had told you it was headed to Central, and something in that name seemed familiar to you. It drew you there like a siren’s call. Central was so large, it felt like it could have classified as a country. It was the perfect place to disappear. As the bus pulled into its terminal, that familiar feeling came back in as you gazed about the large buildings. But you chalked that up to remembering that you and your father moved around a lot.

It was one of the few memories you had like that.

Over the last few months, you had questioned why Daniel had changed so much. He had been the first face you remember seeing after the accident. And he had been the one to break the news to you. There had been a terrible accident, a horrendous car crash. You had been in the passenger seat when the car had broadsided by a drunk driver, sending the car rolling into a ditch. You had survived but your injuries were so severe that you had to be placed in a medical coma, and the trauma had affected your memory. When you woke up, you could remember very little of your past; You remembered that you had studied to be a nurse and recently graduated, that your father had been your only family, and that he had been a high ranking police officer. Daniel’s face was something that you sort of remembered as well, and you figured that was why you clung to him like an anchor. But everything else was wrapped in a dense fog, shattered like pieces of glass that couldn’t be put together. Daniel had, also, broken the news to you that your father hadn’t survived the accident. He stayed close to you for over a year, helping you through therapies, reminding you to take your anxiety medications, and wiping away the tears. He was perfect. But then, it changed. And any time you tried to talk to him about it, he would brush you off or say that he was stressed out, but that he loved you and just let him do what he needed.

What was funny was that in the months since leaving him, a piece of a memory had resurfaced. It was of your father and how he didn’t seem to like Daniel all that much. You could only think of what your father would have said when he saw what his daughter had become. You did remember how he had taught you to be strong and tough, to stand up against the bullies. He would be disappointed now. You rubbed your neck where he had choked you, smelling his alcohol pungent breath as he said so many nasty things to you.

But you got out and for that, anyone should be proud.

Shaking your head from the bad memories, you shoved your keys back into your bag and down the dimly lit hall towards the elevator. You felt a tad silly looking over your shoulder, thinking one day he was gonna show up at your door and drag you back to that unsafe mind set, but you had learned from the support group you had been to that it was normal. Thankfully, you were about to have a long shift to distract you from all those feelings. The intensive care unit had been short staffed, and with the increase in gang activity, everyone was working extra hard. Central Mercy was the most active hospital in all of Central; the others were less willing to help gang members or those targeted for fear of retaliation. But once they came through the ER doors, it didn’t matter what they were. If they needed help, you would help. Even villains need help, and maybe your help can change them, your father’s voice had echoed from somewhere in the foggy parts of your mind. Also, Central Mercy was the main hospital dealing with the current outbreaks of drug overdoses due to a strange street drug known as U4-1A, a highly addictive and deadly substance that had been making its way through the city. Mercy was more equipped for trying to save the overdoses that kept popping up. You had only seen a few of those cases, but the doctors who had been on the front of those, had described it as a mix of “ecstasy, meth, and cocaine all rolled into one deadly substance”. You shook your head. You didn’t understand why people would do that to themselves. But, then again, who would stay with a person who abused you for so long? As you stepped into the small elevator, you really needed a distraction from all these bad thoughts and your best friend, Amber, should be on her way into work by now. You decided to try and text her.

Bless that girl, she had been a big part in getting you back into a functioning human being. When you had stepped off the bus in Central, you were overwhelmed by everything. You were scared, tired, and had nowhere to go. You had felt so lonely. You ended up falling asleep on a bench just outside the station. That is where Amber had found you. She felt sorry for you and took you to get some food. Once she had heard your story, though, she brought you back to her loft to help you. She had said she was in your position once, but never explained what she had gone through, and wanted to help turn you around. She had got you into therapy, got you to open up, helped you find a job in her department at Mercy, and found the woman you were sure you had been on track to be before the accident had set you back.

You hit the lobby button on the elevator, then reached in your work bag for your phone as the door shut. You felt your umbrella, wallet, extra shirt, and even your lunch, but not the phone. You prayed that you didn’t leave your phone in the apartment in your sleep deprived haze. It wouldn’t be the first time this week that it had happened. Your anti-anxiety medicine had finally run out, even after you spaced them out over the last few weeks. And your mind had refused to shut off and you had been plagued by nightmares all night. Finally, your fingers had brushed against the plastic case of your phone. You let out a sigh of relief. However, when you pulled it out of your bag, you wished you hadn’t. It had been the phone that Daniel had given you, and the one that Amber had been trying to get you to throw away for months. You remembered having a panic attack when she had taken it from you. It had been one of the only things you could call yours. She had returned it to you after messing with the setting. Amber didn’t want to take any chances of him tracking the phone, not that you thought he could think of that, and told you not to respond to him. He had sent a few messages in the first few days; he said he was sorry and how much he loved you, but you did as Amber had asked. There was a small part of you that wanted to reach out, in secret. Thankfully, the logical part of your brain kept you silent. Amber wanted to block his number for good, but you left it as it was. She had given you a new phone not long after so you wouldn’t be tempted. And you hadn’t turned the old phone on since then. It had been stuffed in a bottom drawer, only reappearing now when you had rushed to grab an extra thick undershirt and stuffed it into the bag without realizing it.

The elevator came to a halt and opened to the empty lobby. You knew there wasn’t much time to decide what to do. You needed a phone- a curse of modern society to not be able to go a day without it. If you decided to go back up to retrieve your real phone, you still had to find it from where it had fallen in the chaos of this morning. And by then, you would miss your bus and be late to work. Technically, this was a working phone. You hit the power button; if it turned on, you would just get on with your day. That was your decision. It sprung to life, still with a good amount of power despite how long it had been in that drawer. The home screen had a picture of you and Daniel. It made you cringe at the sight of those smiling faces. But it worked and that would have to work. Amber may not be too happy to see it, but you’d rather deal with her then your supervisor. Plus, you really had no desire to talk or see Daniel.

Though, that small, needy part in the back of your mind was still wondering if he had still reached out to contact you.

You got your answer as you stepped out onto the chilly, lamp lit sidewalk. Your inbox was full of text messages and voicemails. He must have sent two or three a day since you had run away. You couldn’t bring yourself to hear his voice. But, as you head down the sidewalk to your bus stop, you decided to read through a few of them.

-Y/N, I’m sorry. Please call me.

-I know you’re mad. You have every right to. I’m weak and dumb.

-Please, just let me know you’re ok.

-Honey, I love you. I’ll never drink again. I never meant to hurt you.

-Please let me know you see these.

-You mean so much to me. I’ll do better. I need you.

-Honey, that girl meant nothing. I can’t live with what I did to you.

-Please call me. Yell at me, hit me. Do anything you want, just come back.

His last message came only two days ago.

-Honey, you must be out of your medicine. Please, just let me give that to you. I won’t bother you anymore. We don’t need to get back together. Whatever you want to do, we can do it. Just let me bring it to you. You need it and I care about you. Please, Y/N, I’m sorry. Please, let’s just talk.

Wow, you thought, he seems really upset. That small part surged forward again, pushing you to respond since he seemed so sincere. But you shook your head. Amber had brought you to a counseling center she volunteered at where a survivors of domestic violence group met. And based on what they had talked about, and his history, you knew it was best to move on. Though, you were basically out of medicine. You didn’t know the name of it, nor had the prescription for it. Daniel had always taken care of it. There was a doctor at Mercy whom you were close with, Henry Na, who had offered to investigate it for you. So, you had given him the last generic, round, white pill. He had offered to prescribe you a basic anxiety medication to help you while he did some research. He had been a big help, just like Amber to getting you to the state of normalcy you had achieved. Hopefully, he had found something for you. You would wait to see what he had to say before making that decision. Or you could talk to Amber and she would slam the stamp of “HELL NO” on that whole thought.

Not wanting to continue this train of thought, you sent a quick text to your friend to say you were on your way to the bus, then locked your phone and stuck it in the pocket of your scrubs. You were determined to make the most out of this day. Even after a terrible night, you were going to be with your best friend, seeing some of your favorite patients, and being away from your troubles. You just needed to get to the bus stop and out of the chill of the early morning. You pulled your jacket close to your body and quickened your pace. Living at the far end of town, while cheap, had its disadvantages. There was much gang activity in the outskirts, the bus stops were sparse, and all the main shops were a long way away. At least, for the moment. Ahead, you could see the outline of the new shopping center the government had decided to build in hopes to revitalize this part of the city. And while you were excited that you wouldn’t have to go far to get essentials, you hoped it wouldn’t raise your rent anymore. Your bus stop was just beyond the construction. You hoped that today would prove to be just as exciting as the prospects of the new shopping center.

Little did you know, in the dim light of the dawn, just how exciting your life was about to become.

~*****************~

If the outside wasn’t foreboding enough, the inside made up for it. It was dark with only a few work lights scattered around the large, open space. There were tall, arching pillars and small openings along the sides that were meant for food stalls, and a large, empty fountain in the center of the concrete floor. Loose wires hung from the unfinished light fixtures, while high scaffoldings and boxed materials were randomly spaced about. A cold breeze swept through the open doorways, sending dust and debris swirling about Bangtan’s feet as they took echoing steps towards the elevator at the end of the floor. Above them, there were large cut outs in the floor so patrons would peer down at those below, all in interesting and modern designs. Once it was finished, it would be very fancy and high-end, the complete juxtaposition to the traditional and family owned buildings around it. It didn’t belong there.

Just like we don’t belong here, Suga thought as his eyes wondered about the dim area. Jimin was beside him, the sparse lights glittering off the studded shoulders of his leather bomber jacket. His face was sharp and serious, his eyes constantly moving behind his rose-colored glasses. And Jungkook was trailing behind, dragging the poorly trained spy with him. The bound and blindfolded kid had fought against the maknae’s grip as soon as they entered the construction zone, screaming unintelligently against the gag. It took a good smack on the back of the head and a threat of “knock it off before I knock you out” before he stilled and allowed Jungkook to lead him around. He, even, made an annoyed promise that he would not let him stumble or fall until they turned him over to his team.

V’s voice rang through the earpiece Suga wore, telling him where to go. The elevator would take them to the top floor, opening to a reception area. And beyond that was the event hall where Choi and his group of assholes were waiting for them. V didn’t see anyone on any other floors, which meant that their passage should be safe. Just as a normal drop should be. But Suga knew that it wasn’t going to be normal. With each step, the uneasy feeling grew. With the confirmation of the General’s presence, old feelings from the past made Suga even more on edge. But he hid it from his younger members. He figured this was a trap; he and RM had talked every conclusion out. They just needed to get in and out as fast as possible. V had set some helpful distractions up if they needed a quick getaway. But all Suga was focused on was dealing with Choi and keeping his dongsaengs safe. He took out his cell and texted a quick update to the leader.

“This place is huge! I didn’t realize it when V and I came here before. Let’s make sure we come back when it’s finished. Something this fancy looking is bound to have a Gucci store,” Jimin said, trying to ease the mood a bit. He brushed a bit of dust from his white Gucci shirt to highlight his point.

“I feel between the two of you, you have enough Gucci in your closets to open your own store,” Jungkook replied, though he had his own collection of name brands to rival theirs.

Suga gave little response as they reached the elevator. RM had texted him back, saying what they already knew; Get in, get out, and be safe. The leader had added ‘try not to antagonize him too much, hyung’. Suga had a gift of speech, known to the others as his ‘Tongue Technology’. He could talk circles arounds even the most versed debaters, and knew exactly what to say to break someone down. If he had ever decided to pursue a career in music, all of Bangtan was sure he’d be a master at diss tracks. When Jin had captured the spy, Suga barely warmed up before the kid broke from fear. And while he knew he should do as his leader asked, Yoongi knew that if Choi opened his mouth, he’d find it extremely hard not to challenge him. As all four crowded into the elevator, he slipped his phone back into the pocket of his red coat and hit the top floor button. Jimin had started cracking his fingers and stretching out his limbs just in case he needed to be ready. Jungkook seemed to be bouncing on his heels with anticipation. A black face mask was resting under his chin. Suga reached over and pulled it up over the young maknae’s nose. He reached up, after, and fixed his black hat to hide most of his face. Jungkook was the only one of their members who Choi hadn’t seen face to face, making him the safest when he walked around barefaced. The boy had been quite young when he had joined them, and each meeting before the Generals had disappeared, Jungkook’s identity had been hidden. And Suga meant to keep it that way. Jungkook smiled at the action and nodded a ‘thanks�� to his hyung.

“Just stay behind us until the trade is made. Block the door. And keep your face hidden. We don’t need Choi knowing who you are, got it?”

Jungkook nodded again, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

The elevator came to a halt as it reached the seventh floor and the doors slid open. It opened to a finished reception hall with an ornate, marble desk at the end near the large, double doors. Compared to the rest of the building, this was practically finished. The floor had a mirror finish, there was a small chandelier above the desk, and the walls were painted with a dark contrast to the white marbled floors. As they stepped off the elevator, a strange crackle sounded through the piece in Suga’s ear. With each step, it got louder. He could see the small red light from the CC camera that V had placed under the edge of the desk. He knew V had been monitoring them, as well as the Royals, and he tapped the earpiece to signal V something was off. He could hear the young man under the roar of the static typing away at his keyboard, letting out a few curses. The roar got louder and louder the closer they got to the doors.

“Hyung-…. Sug-…. Can you…” static “Wait they…. With them! Plea-…” static “Get-,” then a piercing noise overtook everything, and Suga ripped the earpiece from his ear. From what little he heard from V, and the tone he was using, whatever he was trying to say wasn’t good. Jimin and Jungkook looked at him, questioningly. It was clear that something wrong was just beyond those doors. But they were already too far to turn around. The Royals must have heard the elevator’s chime and their footsteps as they came up to the door. If they fled now, it would only be worse later. Suga gave a reassuring nod to his dongsaengs and turned towards the door. Jimin took his position beside him, a hand on his hip to give off the air of sass that his gang persona was known for. Jungkook pulled the spy close to him as he positioned himself behind them, eyes glowing with strength and determination.

And then, Suga kicked the double doors wide open.

The solid oak doors slammed against the inner walls of the large room with a big bang. Just as the lobby, it was practically finished, save for the large crates of fancy décor, some unfinished lights, some high work platforms, and a good polishing. The floor was the same marble and dark finished wall combination as the lobby, with large Roman pillars that gave the room a grand and expensive feel. There were high windows that lined one side of the room, showcasing a large section of downtown as it was bathed in the warm light of the dawn. Further into the space, two high metal scaffoldings had been constructed, high enough for someone to walk under and for painters to reach the vaulted ceiling in order to finish the commissioned watercolor piece; one was just beyond the double doors while the other was against the opposite wall at the far end of the room near the emergency exit. In the center of the room, surrounded by work lights, appeared to be a diamond shaped dance floor. There was a worktable there.

And sitting at the table was Choi. He stood out against the sea of black suited goons with his silver fur coat. Choi always had an air of intensity about him, especially when he caught you in a stare down. He was like a cobra; smooth, unpredictable, and ready to strike without warning. When Suga had first met the General, he had overseen the breaking in of the new “recruits”. And the look he gave was enough to warn the kids to beware his wrath. Choi leaned forward on his elbows; his tented, gloved fingers pressed against his lips. His crazed eyes tracked Bangtan as they sauntered into the room, stopping just before the first scaffolding so to keep some distance between the two rivals. The one holding his spy stopped behind the other two. He tsked in disappointment.

“Nice of you boys to show up,” he greeted in his deep, gravel voice. “I appreciate that you agreed to come to our location. Times have been tough for my troops, and this makes them feel more at ease.”

“Safe it, Choi,” Suga said, his tone even but methodical, “I don’t need you to put on this little act of yours. You’re not doing this for your guys. At least own up to the fact that you don’t want to follow the Accords.”

Choi made an amused noise. “Ah, Agust, I have missed that lip of yours.”

Out of the corner of Jimin’s eyes, he watched as Suga slid into Agust, a second persona Yoongi had developed in the early years before Bangtan. Suga was cold and intimidating, methodical and quiet. Agust was the opposite. He was more aggressive, ready to set the world ablaze; where Suga was the bulletproof vest, Agust was the machine gun and ready to pop off at whoever provoked him. While Suga liked to take his time, his second persona didn’t want to. The shift was subtle, but Jimin had seen the wicked smile appear across his lips as he cocked his head to the side, spilling his platinum blond hair across his eyes. Agust seemed to vibrate with mischievous energy. Jimin hadn’t seen this side of his hyung in an exceptionally long time; only people from Bangtan’s past knew of Agust or he hadn’t been pushed that far to bring out the wildcard. However, he knew Choi had a way of bringing the worst out in them. This would be interesting.

“Oh, I missed you too, Choi. But don’t worry, my aim is much better now. Can we just do this shit? I have better things to do and you are not one of them.”

The amused look on Choi’s face slipped. “Such disrespect for your sunbaenim. This is why I requested your leader. He seems to have taken my lessons better than you.”

“Sorry,” Agust pouted, bringing up his hands in a mocked apology, “but my leader has better things to do than play with a flea infested bitch like you. Wait, that was an insult to dogs.”

Jungkook was happy he had a mask on to hide his grin; he always enjoyed when Yoongi-hyung fell into Agust; it didn’t happen much these days unless he was extremely angry or overly stressed. So, this was a treat to see Agust tearing into Choi like he knew his hyung had always wanted to do when he was younger.

Agust continued, his eyes glowing with annoyance. “Seriously, can we move this along? We have your little spy here, all safe and sound. We even fed him, which is more than you could do. Let’s do this exchange before I get more annoyed. It’s past my Maknae’s bedtime and he’s gonna be cranky later.”

Jimin couldn’t hold back his laugh at that point. That drew Choi’s attention. A gleam appeared in Choi’s eyes that, even from that distance, Jimin didn’t like.

“Now I wasn’t expecting to see you, Sweet One. It’s been a while since we last met. How have you been doing? Had your fix recently?”

Jimin only glared behind his glasses, his hands clenched in a fist. He took a deep breath and tried to block him out.

Choi stood up and moved to the front of the table. “What, nothing to say? I missed that voice of yours. So sweet and addictive. You know, sometimes I can still hear your sweet moans and gasps echoing through my memories. Begging and pleading, so needy and desperate. Makes me wish I had taken a chance with you when I had the opportunity. I can see you’re shaking from here. I have what you need, baby. I can help you feel all better. You just need to come over and ask for it. I can take good care of that itch of yours. I’d love to hear how loud your moans can get now.”

Jimin felt something in him snap. He went to rush him, fist cocked back, ready to shut the bastard up. Suga threw out an arm in front of him before he could take a step. The look he gave Jimin told him to let him handle Choi. RM had asked Suga not to cause too much trouble. And since Agust had already made an appearance, he couldn’t risk Jimin starting something. Even if Choi deserved whatever Jimin had planned to do for bringing up such a dark part of their past. Suga’s reassuring hand gave Jimin a slight push behind him, which the younger man begrudgingly allowed.

“Seems like you’ve become the responsible one, Agust. Perhaps you’ve gone soft on me, despite the bite. Fine, we should get down to business. But first thing is first; lets make sure that you followed the rules I sent to your leader. No weapons were to be brought with you. Chen, Yao,” he called over his shoulder, “search them.”

The two suits stepped away from the pack and crossed over to Bangtan. Suga nodded to Jimin, who made his way to stand next to Jungkook in order to keep the spy between them as they were searched. The guards started with Jungkook, then Jimin. They searched Suga last. Both guards ran their hands through clothes, dipping into each pocket. So, of course, they found the small pocketknife Yoongi had slipped into the inner pocket of his red coat. Chen fixed the smaller male with a look, which was received with a nonchalant shrug. Chen was not amused by the gesture and grabbed him by his blond hair, yanking his head back. Agust grabbed hold of Chen’s wrist, twisting it as hard as he could before spitting in the thug’s face. Yao rose his fist to punch him, only to be stopped by Jimin, who had appeared next to him. Agust was intimidating on his own, but the look that Jimin transfixed on them was enough to send a message. Both suits backed away from the two before things got any worse.

“Agust,” Choi remarked as his guards returned to their space, “how disappointing. Do you see, boys? They have no respect for us. They bring a weapon to a tradeoff. And when scolded for breaking the rules, he acts like a wild animal. They don’t even have the decency to dress professionally. Instead of business attire, we are presented with ripped jeans, flashy and cheap clothes-,”

“Hey, I wore designer labels to this,” Jimin interrupted.

“And the one in the back,” Choi continued, “look at how they teach their Maknae. Black cargo pants, hoodie, and wearing a mask and hat. Like he’s going to a club instead of meeting with his betters. Take that off and let me get a better look at you, boy! The least you can do is give me a proper greeting.”

“Leave my Maknae alone.” Agust took a few steps forward, stepping into the primary focus. “He’s protecting himself from all the bullshit you keep spitting. You don’t need to see him for us to do this. Stop stalling. Where’s your goods? We took good care of your little rat. Now put up or shut up.”

“You keep demonstrating how low you can be, Agust. Do you think you’ll become as successful as us acting like a classless thug?”

Agust shrugged, tapping his long finger against his cheek. “I’m not sure about the secret to success. But I think I know the secret to failure and being an idiot. And that is to keep babbling like you. I’m really starting to lose my patients with you. Show me the fucking trade, else I’m leaving with your spy and I’ll do whatever I want to with him.”

Choi nodded to one of his suits. They pulled out a suitcase and opened it. It was full of cash and ammunition boxes. “Satisfied with that, Agust? It’s way more than his life is worth. But recruitment has been slow recently. However, before we trade, I need an apology.”

“For what, your appearance? You need to take that up with your parents,” Agust sneered, causing Jimin and Jungkook to start chuckle.

Choi slammed the case shut. “I’m over your bad attitude! You have disrespected me enough today. You show me respect, or I will demonstrate how I used to deal with you.” Choi reached around and brandished his ornate cane, smacking it against his hand. “You remember what I used to do to you. Now, apologize to me!”

“Alright, I’m sorry. Don’t get angry. Your mom will be upset if you lose your only asset- your health,” Agust mocked with a small bow, causing Jimin and Jungkook to laugh. The shocked expression from some of the suits added fuel to the fire.

Choi’s face took on a red shade. “Enough,” he screamed, his voice shattering against the empty walls, “You may appear brave and bold, but I know what you hide behind that smile, son!”

Agust took another step forward, unafraid by his little outburst. “If I’m the sun,” he said, pointing out the windows at the rising light, “then you are the moon; as I rise, you go down. Though, I’m sure I’m going to be more disappointed in your tongue technology than your cohorts are with mine.” The roar of laughter from behind him only increased and sent Choi further into a rage. He lunged at Agust and swung his cane.

Suga’s hands were almost as fast as his tongue; he grabbed hold of the cane before it could strike him. He pulled his face close to the General’s, his eyes cold and serious.

“I am not that scared little boy you locked in the dark. I will show you that I’m the king here. I’m the boss. And you will end up just like your vile, worthless Maknae.”

“You’ve gotten strong in my absence,” the taller man remarked as he tried to pull away from Suga’s grip. The younger held tight for a second before giving him a hard shove back towards his team. Choi took a grounding breath and ran a gloved hand through his frosted hair. “Remember Agust, our Maknae acted on his own. Against his boss’s plan. And you got your revenge on him for that. He damned himself, not his hyungs. Don’t keep using that to fuel your hate.”

“I have plenty without that.” Suga turned and walked back to his team. “I’m done playing with you. Slide that case over here. We’ll leave your man here as we exit out the door. And we will call this done.”

Choi shot a dark glare at the blond’s back, before waving a dismissive hand at him, accepting that he wasn’t going to get anything he wanted from the younger man. He gave a nod to the suit holding the case, who slid the case across the floor. Jimin stopped it with his foot before picking it up. He thought it felt lighter than he expected it to, but the want to leave outweighed his curiosity; he was still pissed about what Choi had said to him. He turned his back to the room and made after Yoongi.

Suddenly, Choi’s soft laughter filled the room. Yoongi remembered that laughter; the General had used it when he knew something they did not. Bangtan’s Second in command looked over his shoulder to see that Choi had a small remote in his hand. With a press, the double doors swung shut automatically. Panic rose within Bangtan. They were trapped! Jimin opened the case in his hands and discovered it was full of fake bills and empty ammunition boxes. Everything was a set up. Choi must have figured that they would have a surveillance too, and made it so he couldn’t communicate with V once they got to the meeting spot. Yoongi hoped that he hadn’t thought about a camera hidden within the room. Since V had been trying to tell him something before their communication was severed, he must have eyes in the room, at least enough to know he needed to get to them fast. Jungkook tightened his hold upon the spy, as if it was their only protection. He shot Suga a look. The elder shifted his eyes between both of his comrades, deep, stormy eyes narrowed in defensive thought. He had thought of this; he had many plans unraveling in his mind. Now, it was all a matter of finding the best one in order to get them out of there. The only unknown factor was Choi. Suga motioned for the two to keep calm as he turned back to the General.

“Honestly, Agust, did you really believe it would be that simple? That I would let you come in, disrespect me and my troops, and walk out of here like you’re the one in charge? After all that you and your little boy scout brigade has done. I was hoping to send a little message when I scratched up that smiling fool of yours. And yet, your leader couldn’t grasp that and sent you right into my hands. It should had been obvious that you weren’t going to get out without a struggle. There is no Hallowed ground here. You are in my territory with a member of mine that, for what anyone would see, you have kidnapped. Therefore, I can have my fun without any fear from the Accords and their rules.”

Jimin growled, “Since when do you care about the Accords? You already drew us here under false pretenses.”

“They’re not entirely false. As I said, you have my recruit,” Choi remarked, his voice in a mocked tone of concern. “He was given such an easy task. And he couldn’t even do that correctly. It would see that some more training is in order.”

Jungkook felt the kid in his grasp cringe and bury himself deeper into his hold. It was painfully clear that the kid had no choice in this life, much like most of members in the room. And from the stories he had heard from his hyungs, Jungkook was sure this kid had been treated much better in their care than anything in the Royals clutches. It wasn’t up to the Maknae, but he wondered if it was too late to try and take the kid with them.

“As you know,” Choi continued, “recruitment has been difficult on me. And all the rookies have little to no talent when it comes to the finer arts of the trade. They would benefit from some more one on one training. How do you think we can achieve this?”

“Well, when Ji just up and leaves like the coward he is and leaves his most useless General in charge, seems like a daunting task for you. Might as well just give up and disband,” Suga said in his methodical tone, causing Choi and the Suits to actively flinch at the mention of their leader’s real name said so offhandedly.

“Don’t you dare say his name! I will make you regret that. And you’ll be the example for my new recruits. Like I said, my boys don’t do well with their basic training back at the compound. They need some ‘on the job’ training, some action in the field. And what better place then here. Since we are not on Hallowed Ground, we can let them play a little rough. What a splendid opportunity for all of us; they get to have a real experience and you get a few broken bones to send a message to anyone who thinks that they are above the Royals in the food chain. Do me a favor, Bangtan, and don’t give up to fast.”

With that last smirk, Choi settled himself back against the table and snapped his fingers. Four of the Suits smirked and started to cross the room towards Bangtan. Jimin looked over at Suga. The steely member gave a sharp nod and Jimin pushed some of his honey locks out of his hair with a dark glint in his eyes. He heard Suga tell the youngest to ‘stay put’ as he set off at the advancing Suits. Out of Bangtan, Jimin was known as one of their best fighters. He had studied many different styles and always perfected his craft; from judo and taekwondo to kendo and target shooting, he was regarded amongst most gangs in Central as the most skilled. Jimin was, also, a well-versed dancer, having studied since he was a child. And that control and flexibility of his body only aided him when he decided to show off just why he was well known. As he was still seething with anger from Choi’s words, he decided to take out that frustration on whoever came near him. Jimin took off like a bullet and launched himself up to grab a high bar on the bottom side of the scaffolding. Using his momentum, he swung himself up towards the closest Suit, catching the young man off guard as Jimin wrapped his toned legs around the taller man’s neck. Before the Suit could recover from the surprise, Jimin let go of the bar and arched back into a backbend. Using his lower body strength, he pulled the victim over and down the ground with a loud thud. The shock knocked the air from the Suit and Jimin sent a sharp punch to the throat, to keep him down.

A yell from another Suit brought Jimin’s eyes up. He got up and tackled the second. The new opponent was sturdier on his feet than the first, easily keeping himself upright and throwing Jimin back. Jimin recovered quickly; he ran to one of the supportive, vertical legs of the scaffolding, grasping hold and using it to spin himself back to the Suit, his heels colliding with the goon’s chest. The Suit stumbled back, chest heaving. Jimin didn’t give him much chance to recover; he was instantly back in his range, throwing punches and sweeping kicks towards the taller man. Being as flexible as he was, Jimin had no issues dodging and sliding under the Suit’s attempt at a comeback. While the bastard was strong and aggressive, he lacked speed and foresight. And Jimin had much of that. They had been backed further along the scaffolding towards it’s beginning, moving rhythmically around the bars and legs. The Suit had managed to grab Jimin by the collar of his studded jacket as he tried to get behind him and threw him face first into the ladder that lead to the top of the scaffolding. He clung to bar for a moment, feeling his lip start to bleed and his head ringing from the sudden impact. He could hear the asshole let out a laugh before charging at him. Just as the Suit was able to connect his jab to the back of Jimin’s head, the smaller blond side stepped him, and let the Suit’s hand make a cracking impact with the metal bars. Jimin got behind him and wrapped his arm around the man’s neck, squeezing as hard as he could. The other man thrashed against his grip, but his windpipe was being crushed. The Suit slipped onto his knees as his vision started to dot. And Jimin took the opportunity to release the Suit’s throat and use his knee to hit him in the nose. Blood spattered over the dark denim as the Suit screamed in pain. He was silenced when Jimin elbowed him in the back of the head. After the man fell unconscious, Jimin ran his hands through his hair and adjusted the rose-colored glasses that had managed to stay on his face.

While Suga wasn’t as graceful as Jimin when it came to fighting, he was able to hold his own with the rest of them. He was scrappier, more calculative in his actions. The remaining two Suits had come at him at the same time. And just like Jimin, he used his height to his advantage, easily dodging under the sweeping arms of the two. The closest Suit had backed Suga up against one of the Roman pillars with his advancing punches, his back flushed against the cold stone. The bastard set an upper cut, which Suga caught and turned back upon its owner. He looked over the goon’s shoulder to see the second had a picked up a crowbar. Oh, fantastic. The second Suit raised the bar and brought it down in a hard motion, only to hit his own comrade when Suga grabbed the first one and used him as a shield. The goon swung again and Yoongi moved behind the pillar just as it made contact, sending dust flying into the air. When he came back around, he caught hold of the bar with both hands and struggled to push back against the brute’s strength. The first one had recovered from the hit and caught him from behind, locking his arms around the thin gang member’s body. Suga threw his head back and knocked against the Suit but his grip only tightened. He struggled hard as the second guy advanced on him again. Thinking fast, he brought his legs up and kicked the second Suit hard in the chest, sending him to the ground. He thrashed harder against the taller man behind him. He was swung around until Suga saw the white pillar in front of him. He ran up high enough on the pillar and kicked back with all his strength, sending him and the Suit to the marble floor. The arms around his chest loosened enough to slip one out of the hold and use a reverse elbow strike to the goon’s face, hard enough to send him to the very edge of consciousness. Suga scrambled up to his feet as the second Suit barreled at him; he moved just enough to grab ahold of the Suit’s jacket and propel him into the pillar. Suga grabbed hold of the Suit’s shaved head and slammed it as hard as he could into the pillar as many times as it took until the guy slumped down, blood decorating the white stone. Taking a deep breath, he turned back towards the General, smirked before giving the Suit at his feet a good kick to the stomach.

“That all you got, you son of a bitch?” Agust was out of breath, but still had enough snark in his voice to fill the room. “You couldn’t teach them how to fight their way out of a paper bag. I didn’t even need to bring out my tank over there,” he pointed at Jungkook, who smiled behind his mask and gave a little wave. “What were they supposed to do again? Teach me a lesson? Make me into the example to what happens when your fragile self-worth is questioned. If that’s how you teach your boys to fight, you should change your profession because your ability to make yourself look like an idiot is extraordinary. Your title should be ‘Moron Extraordinaire’ instead of ‘Washed-up Mafia Kingpin’. What you want to throw at me, now? Clearly, we can take you. And when I get out of here, you can guarantee that it’s going to be open season on you. I don’t care if your punk ass leader decides to show his fucking face. I’ll gladly spit in it and let him know how this little ‘bapsae’ took his place.”

Choi looked down at the Suits, most of whom were still unconscious at Bangtan’s feet. His eyes flicked up to meet Suga’s cold stare. He gave a deep sigh and shrugged the fur coat from his shoulders.

“Oh Agust, I really do wish one of my men had the foresight to break your jaw. That way I wouldn’t have to hear you anymore. I’m growing tired of this game. I would have hoped you would’ve gone down easier. It would have boosted the moral of the boys instead of their medical bill. Guess we are going to have to do this the old fashion way.”

Choi reached behind his suit jacket and brandished a chrome revolver. Behind him, the rest of his guys pulled out theirs and pointed them at Bangtan. Jungkook’s doe eyes seemed to get bigger as he took in the site before him. Jimin looked concerned as well, but tried to keep it internalized so not to feed their egos; his eyes were darting across the room, looking for places to shield himself should shoots be fired. Suga refused to break eye contact with Choi. The older General gave at laugh at the fronted courage. He cocked the gun and raised it eye level.

“I have wanted to do this for a long time. When I was away, I had dreams of shooting you right between those cold eyes and wiping that fucking smile off that face. I remember when my brothers and I brought you under our wing; we had high hopes for you if we could break you. But you are just as stubborn as the rest of your ragtag crew. I hope your efforts were worth it in your mind.”

Choi’s finger moved towards the trigger. And Suga didn’t move, just stared him down. Before Choi could pull it, a loud gun shot rang out in the space! And a bullet hit Choi’s weapon and sent it ricocheting across the marble floor. Choi spun around, looking for the source of the shot. Suga let out a breath he didn’t realize he had held. Jimin rushed to his side, eyes searching for an explanation, as if Yoongi had some how done something. But the second-in-command was just as shocked; his eyes darted about the room, just as the Royals were making a commotion looking for the phantom gun.

A deep chuckle filled the space, bouncing off the shadowed walls that made it seem like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “Stop going on about ‘effort’ and more ‘effort’,” the deep voice commanded. “It’s makes my skin crawl when you say things like that.”

Drawn by the voice, Suga finally caught a glimpse of a black leather jacket and red pants perched atop the second scaffolding behind the Royals on the opposite wall. V was squatted on top of the platforms, gazing down upon the scene like a gargoyle, one elbow resting against his knee. The other arm was stretched out with his emerald green gun held tight in his grasp. Suga was half impressed that V had hit his intended target; the other half was annoyed he had taken that chance.

“About time you decided to show your face,” Suga remarked. “What, did you take the scenic route?”

“Sorry Suga-hyung,” V responded, his voice like black velvet. “They scrambled my signal so I couldn’t contact you. Not even on your phone. And, of course, I had the guys at the cars to deal with. By the way,” he moved his steely eyes to Choi, “your henchmen weren’t a fan of my ‘Vante’ mark on your tacky car. So I left them giftwrapped in the trunk. They didn’t play nice so they’re a bit bruised. Hope that’s ok.”

V brought his hand up to flash his signature ‘V’ sign and winked at Choi. The General just stared back at him, his gaze disbelieving and furious. Then, he turned to his Suits.

“Unbelievable,” he said, the hand V had shot the gun out of balling into a shaky fist, “the empire I helped create is being spit upon. And its members are just letting this bunch of misfits walk all over them. This isn’t even all of them! You are supposed to be the most feared, strong, aggressive men of the Mafia families. But you let a pretty boy, a shadow, a whore, and a foul-mouthed baepsae fuck you over time and time again?! I should just shoot you all myself for being so useless! Do you know what’s going to happen if you continue to let the Royal’s name drag in the filth of these fuckers?! I will make sure every single one of you begs for death before I’m finished! Is that what you want? Or are you going to do something about it?!”

“Whoa, watch that temper, Big Boss,” V said, while smacking on a piece of gum. “Your face is turning a bright shade of red. It’s clashing with your suit. Not a good look for someone of your age.”

Choi had had enough; he gave a sharp order to Chen who whipped out his revolver from a hidden hoister. He raised it at rapid speed and took aim at V. But while Chen was fast, someone was faster. A loud shot sounded from behind them, and the bullet cut across the captain’s arm. His arm spasmed at the contact and dropped his gun before he could even move to the trigger. Choi whirled around, eyes wild and enraged. Behind Suga and Jimin, both of whom were wearing a smug smile, was the shadow who Choi had dismissed, still holding their hostage in front of him. Jungkook had his arm balanced against the hostage’s shoulder, with his metallic purple handgun on full display. Even with his face hidden behind a mask, all could tell he had a triumphant grin spread across his lips.

Choi grabbed his captain by the arms, uncaring of the bleeding wound his hands covered. “I told you to search them for weapons! Can you not do one thing I ask?!

“I did, Boss! I swear,” Chen cried as Choi fingers dug further into his gunshot wound.

It was Suga’s turn to let out a bemused noise, letting his head loll to one side. His hands came to rest on his hips, and he clicked his tongue in a disappointed fashion. “Oh Choi, you think you’re the smartest person in the room. You think you’re the only one with secrets. See, we’re not as naïve as you like to believe. We have the genius leader after all. We planned for every eventuality you could think of. You’re not as slick as you boost yourself up to be. But we played our part well to make you believe that, didn’t we? Since your boys lack the brains to think of creative methods beyond your orders, I’ll let you in on my little secret. Your boys did search us – they didn’t check your little rat.”

As quick as he brandished his own piece, Jungkook pulled Jimin’s and Suga’s weapon from under the rat’s oversized sweatshirt and tossed it to them. Jimin’s was a polished gold, while Suga’s was a studded black gun. Both caught their respective piece as if they had rehearsed the moment. Now, they had four barrels pointed at the Royals. Bangtan was outgunned, but they were widely known for their accuracy and body count. That reputation alone was enough to worry the newer Suits. Suga’s cold stare drilled into the General as he held is gun steady.

“Even after all your shit, Choi, I’ll let you decide how we do this; either let us walk out like nothing happened or we start shooting. You’re already down a few men,” Suga said, motioning to the four men still on the ground from their earlier rumble, either still unconscious or too scared to sit up. “Do you really want to risk losing more? After all this, I can’t guarantee that we won’t hit anything vital like with Chen there. So what’s it gonna be, Jackass?”

Choi stared at the younger man; his face was blank and unreadable. Suga wondered if he was going to have to repeat himself, or if they could use that silence to back away before anything happened. But then, a crazed look appeared in the General’s eyes and a wicked smirk cracked his face. He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders before taking a step back behind his Suits.

Then, he snapped his fingers.

The Royals opened fire with an onslaught of bullets. Bangtan scattered behind whatever cover was closest. Jungkook pulled his hostage behind a large crate and shoved him to the ground, ordering the kid to ‘stay down and don’t move if you want to live to see adulthood’; he had protected the kid so far, he wasn’t gonna let him get shot for a stupid reason. The poor kid was too scared to do anything but shake and do as he was ordered. Jungkook leaned around the box and fired a few shots to try and cover for V. The gray-haired boy was running across the scaffolding, yelling out ‘one shot- two shots’ as he fired down into the Suits. He vaulted from edge of the platform and scampered behind one of the pillars where Jimin had shielded himself with. The smaller Bangtan member was an impressive shot and was managing to keep the Suits from advancing upon him. Suga was across from them, behind another pillar. From his position, it was difficult to get a clear shot at anyone and he was pinned down behind it. There was a crate a few feet from him that would give him a better vantage point to lay out the Royals. It would be a bonus if he would break down the human shield Choi had surrounded himself with, and stain that blue suit of his. Running away from the pillar into the sea of smoke and ammunition, he rapid-fired at the Suits, hearing at least one of the Suits call that he had been hit. Jimin and V were moving to a new cover, alternating cover shots over each other’s shoulders. Suga knew they needed to get out of there; no matter how good of a shot they were, they would run of bullets before the Royals would. He needed a plan, and fast. He looked behind him at the door Choi had rigged; there was a red light from the mechanical device that had shot and locked the door. The lobby had some decorative things that they could use to bar the door once he could destroy the mechanism. There were the emergency stairs just behind the Royals that they could use if they could keep their distance. Or both to split up the group.

Behind him, Jungkook had slid a new round of ammunition into his gun that V had slid to him. He had moved from the very back of the room closer to the rest of his team. One of the Suits came running at him from along the side of the room. He easily showed him why they referred to him as Bangtan’s tank; he blocked the Suit’s punch before pistol whipping him, sending two strong jabs at his gut, and a final uppercut that sent the suit falling backward and his gun flying from his hand. Jungkook easily caught it in his empty hand and sent double the shots at the rest of the Royals. He ducked behind another set of boxes and looked to Suga.

Three more Suits had been hit and were scrambling for cover. Those still shooting had changed weapons and released a new spray of bullets that pinned Bangtan where they were. Choi stood in the middle of it, almost as if he were a statue, with a confident grin still on his lips. He gave an order for the Suits to advance. Suga knew they needed to get out now. He rose up and fired, hitting two Suits and bringing them down. He gave a signal to Jungkook to come to him. The Maknae rushed over, both guns firing and keeping the Royals ducking for cover. Suga looked over his shoulder at the other two and called out. He gave a pointed look to the door and V followed his gaze. They had all worked together long enough to not need much to understand what the other needed to say. V looked back and nodded, knowing Suga meant for them to leave that way on his signal. Jungkook laid down some cover as the blond turned from the battle and fired four shots at the mechanism, destroying it. He turned back to see Choi look stunned at his actions, before ordering his men on.

Suga grabbed Jungkook and leaned close. “Get to the back stairs. I’ll cover you and be right behind you.” He looked behind and called out to Jimin and V, “Get to the car! If we’re not there, just drive. We’ll meet up at the safe zone!”

V and Jimin nodded and took off towards the double doors, Jimin kicking them wide open before V turned and slammed them shut behind them. Choi yelled out for a few men to follow them. Three of the men who had lost in their hand-to-hand battle with Bangtan, jumped up from their positions on the floor and ran towards the closed doors. They pushed against it but it was wedged closed. The blond smiled, knowing V had thought of the same things he had about securing the door to help give them time to get away. It held just long enough for the two to escape the lobby. Suga gave Jungkook a shove and the young man took off around the outskirts of the room towards the emergency door in the back of the room. Shots continued to whiz by him as he ducked and weaved between pillars and boxes, having a few close calls as he neared the back end of the room. Suga trailed behind him, pausing at each cover to fire back at the Royals. He managed to bring down two more of the Royals before he ran out of bullets. Jungkook finished the clip in the stolen gun and threw it, hard, at an advancing Suit, nailing him in the side of the head. Chen, still bleeding from his arm but determined to win favor from Choi again, had seen where Jungkook and Suga were heading and stood in front of the door. Jungkook ran at the captain and got locked in a hand-to-hand fight. Chen was one of the few present to offer a challenge to the Maknae, even injured. Chen grabbed one of Jungkook’s fists, as he went in for a cross jab, and twisted the young man’s arm behind him. Jungkook twisted, trying to get his arm free, but Chen held tight. So, he shoved them both backwards until the captain’s back slammed against the wall, throwing his head back to crack against the taller man. Chen let go, and the two were back to exchanging punches, jabs, and dodges.

Suga was almost to Jungkook when, from the corner of his eyes, he saw Choi moving towards one of his new recruits, one who was a terrible shot. The General snatched his gun from the Suit’s hand and rose it. And it was aimed at Jungkook in a fatal angle. The Maknae was trapped with Chen and couldn’t see what Choi had planned. Suga cursed and ran. Everything happened too fast.

Jungkook had landed a sharp punch to Chen’s face, causing the captain to stumble back stunned.

Choi fired the weapon with a clear target.

Jungkook noticed Choi, as Suga shoved him out of the way.

#bts fic #bts imagines #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #yoongi x reader #bangta boys #ot7 x reader #min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bangtan fanfic

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 3 years ago

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Hello! I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfy but I was wondering if I could get a bit of advice? From your recent posts, you said you left your home from toxicity and just bad things in general.

I’m in a similar situation, but my dad will be taking me away from my mom. And I just know it’ll be a shit show. And I’m absolutely terrified when we tell her and what the backlash will be afterwards towards my brothers and me and dad in general

How did you do it? How did you take the leap? Do you possibly have any advice on how to deal ?

Hello, friend!! ☀️

Thank you so much for reaching out, it means a lot that you value my advice <3

Hmm, okay from what I can tell of your situation, that is indeed a tricky one, but nothing can’t be overcome!

It’s important to remember, though, I was 19 when I left (now 20), so the way I handled things is going to be a lot different than how a minor can handle things (legally at least, feel free to replicate my insane stunts lmao)

Advice below the cut! (family violence trigger warning, I suppose?)

My entire family was and is extremely volatile, and I don’t speak to any of them anymore except for my older brother, but I’ll be cutting him off in 3 weeks too when I move.

Fortunately, my dad and brother were both kicked out of the house years ago due to violence, which left me with my mother, who’s quite insidious herself (just watch any Conjuring movie and that’ll give a good idea of what it was like living in that house lol)

I get the same feeling watching this scene as when I was around her in that house. Granted she didn’t try to change my gender, but the hatred for my father getting taken out on me is pretty accurate lol, paired with the immediate “motherly love” afterwards (she never hit me though, pleased to say — she wasn’t physically violent, just emotionally, financially, mentally and verbally. She did try to run my dad over once though, so, there’s that too)

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Yikes…yeahh the same eerie feeling for sure, still makes all my hairs stand upright in memory.

(For further context this clip reminds me of my father and this one of my brother)

In the clip about my father, he definitely reminds me of Frank Gallagher, except he despises my mother instead of revering her. He’s a workaholic instead of a drug addict, too. But the mannerisms are the same. I always handled him in the way Fiona does.

Regarding my brother, I think everything about our family hit him the hardest, despite being the oldest. He developed a very violent streak, and has very poor impulse control. I love him dearly but he’s a snake in the grass, and has thrown me under the bus multiple times to get ahead in life. I mostly just pity him, since I know what our life was like growing up. But still, I can’t defend him forever, especially not at the cost of myself. Literally yesterday I woke up to a text from him asking me to come pick him up because he got arrested for starting a fight at a bar and smashing their windows.

When things started getting pretty bad with my mother earlier this year, I started to realise in my heart that there was no way I could go forth in life with her in it. I focused on the future relationships I would have one day when far away from this town — romantic partner, children, friends etc

I sort of realised one day I’d care about them a lot more than I care about my mother, because those future people would care about me. That in turn got me realising that I do deserve love, despite how my mother made me feel, and that I don’t want her to deprive another second of that in my life.

Something very unique that triggered this too was going to go visit an old family psychic, who’s basically just the Gandalf to my Frodo (ily, Chris <3). He very accurately predicted my birth years ago after my mother was told she was infertile — he got the date, year and time right three years in advance, and even knew ahead of time what my personality would be like, which he was spot-on about.

Well, I went and visited him a few months ago because I was lost with my direction, and he ended up pausing and had a sudden feeling, which led to him telling me that he’d just found out I would be having twin boys one day.

Normally I don’t buy into that stuff, but this Gandalf dude…well I knew he was right.

Knowing I’d have sons of my own one day took me from a scared daughter mindset and into a maternal mother bear in an instant, and I knew I didn’t want any children of mine around my mother or the rest of my family, for their safety alone, which made me realise, “Well, if I wouldn’t allow my own children near them, why do I allow myself?”

I started grey-rocking her in the lead-up to me leaving, which of course frustrated her (she’s a malignant narcissist), but it was a necessary step to start emotionally detaching myself from her.

It all bottled over one night after a pretty distressing argument (I had locked myself in my room to avoid it, but she was still at my door carrying on).

My cat, who’s been my best friend for years, was sitting on the floor next to me, and sort of looked up and I swear he spoke with his eyes, saying, “You know we can’t keep doing this, right? You know this abuse has an expiry date?”

I agreed with my cat and knew right then and there that I’d be leaving that night after my mother fell asleep.

Well, when she was finally done (with threats that there’d be more in stock in the morning, mind you) I went to bed early and set my alarm to 3am (was a little inside joke with myself, since that’s biblically the “witching devil hour”)

I started quietly packing my quilt and cat up (I’d already been secretly packing the boot of my car up with all sentimental and important items weeks in advance, except she caught on and took all my baby albums and more to her boyfriend’s house, so I don’t have any baby photos or information on me when I was a baby anymore, like first words, size and just general things I’d have liked to compare to my own kids one day, rip)

Once that was all in my car, I quietly said goodbye to the old family dog and cat (they weren’t mine to take, not that I could’ve anyways, since it was troubling enough taking Buddy, who’s actually my pet and not the family one). That was pretty heartbreaking, as I knew that’d be the last time I’d see them (I grew up with them and was the only one who took care of them — mother neglects kids and pets alike lmao).

Once that was over, I looked around my house with my hand on the front door and was very melancholy, but knew Buddy was right: it had all reached its expiry date.

I left very quietly and drove to McDonalds for a coffee, as I had a long drive ahead (I had organised to be a nanny in this rich family’s house far away in the city — two hours drive). Luckily they were away on their country farm 4 hours away, so I had time to sneak Buddy in.

The nanny thing recently backfired horribly because they discovered Buddy, which led to more AM escapes with my car, but I’m staying with my older brother and his gf for 3 more weeks only. Something I’ve been working towards for months now is moving to a wilderness island to live in my country’s equivalent of Bag End — a beautiful country cottage, amazing job and fantastic study opportunities.

Best feature yet: it’s 60 hours away from my hometown by car, and then you’d have to take a boat for 10 more hours!! They shall never find me hahaha

One of my friends has also told me recently that my mother has started spreading horrible, defamatory rumours about me around town, but I don’t care anymore because I’m almost out.

So, although I can’t offer any practical advice (idk if you’re a minor or not, but regardless it’s great your dad is helping you!) this is the best advice I can offer:

Find a dream and hold onto it, one that doesn’t involve your immediate family. For me it’s moving to that island and enjoying all the fresh air. It’ll push you forwards and remind you of what you’re fighting for when at your lowest.

Remind yourself there will be other people in your life, whether a spouse, friends, children or even a dog! (I’m getting a golden retriever next year 🐾) And then remember that you deserve all of them and the unconditional love they offer you.

Remember that if you don’t want your mother/family screwing those people over by proxy of her/their relationship to you, then there’s no way in hell you alone should put up with it either, as I guarantee those future people only want good things for you ☀️

There is a good life after abuse, I’ve seen it, and I know you can achieve it, too!

Be prepared for tons of backlash and bullshit — it’s inescapable when dealing with people like this, but I recommend educating yourself on narcissistic parents and tactics to deal with them.

Finding a good therapist who deals in PTSD regarding childhood abuse is important, too. I found an amazing one in the town I’m moving to, who had nearly the same upbringing as me!

So while I’m still struggling with a lot of fear (scared my mother will find where I’m working and living one day) and guilt (I feel horrible about leaving the family dog and cat behind, especially when they need veterinary help, only to then go and get myself another puppy) I understand I’ve done the best I can in a very abnormal situation, and that I can only do better from here.

Also, this song has been a saving grace when going all angsty over wanting to leave your current situation:

It’s from my favourite Broadway Musical, “Newsies”, and lemme tell you — discovering this as a 17-year-old when I was just starting to realise the severity of my situation was pure divinity.

Jeremy Jordan, my beloved Broadway Bard <3

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When I finally get my cottage, I’m getting a wooden plaque with the name “Santa Fe” engraved on it, and am hanging it on my front door.

I wish you much luck and love, my little anonymous friend! And please know my inbox is open any time you need anything — vent, advice, a laugh or something else, ANYTHING, it feels good to know my past can maybe help someone else’s present ☀️

Please update me, too! I’m following your story along ardently now! (Also, be sure to take your sentimental items and store them somewhere safe away from your mother — ie baby albums, birth certificates, other paraphernalia/memorabilia etc).

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must hit the road. DESTINY AWAITS!

#ahh yes #Newsies my beloved <3 #and bless my family Gandalf #I’m gonna send him a gift next year from the small country town I’m moving to for his birthday as a thanks #also I’m torn between naming the golden retriever ‘Jaskier/Dandelion’ or ‘Glorfindel/Glorfy’ now #so happy that’ll soon be my only dilemma in life <33

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lesbiansforboromir · 4 years ago

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I absolutely love your borodred thoughts, they are just *chefs kiss* so I have to ask how do you think Boromir and Theodred, who come off (to me at least) as very "expressing my true feeling??? In this economy???", get together? How do they start dating and get psuedo-married???

OH MAN ok so so- kajds FFF HANG ON hang on I’m actually... kinda writing this fic but I will never finish it so lemme try and summarise for you SO.

Important things to keep in mind: - Boromir and Theodred were friends as children, or rather they became friends after initially disliking each other because Theodred was foul mouthed and sharp tongued and Boromir was withdrawn and noble. Being so close in age, everyone agreed it would be a good thing for them to get to know each other as boys, since they would be interacting so much later on. This SEEMED to go badly initially, they quarrelled and tussled. But they both also... didn’t seem to want to NOT do those things. And eventually it became clear that Boromir really enjoyed having a friend he could be looser and more competitive around, whilst Theodred was quite eager for Boromir’s more quiet confidence that made him a calming presence. Everyone ALSO realised their arguments had turned to playing and they were thoroughly enjoying having a friend who was their absolute equal in social standing. Bullet points seem redundant now but I’m gonna continue with them.

- The pair actually found more than just a friend in this relationship, they got more confident and settled in their own positions too. Theodred’s manner allowed Boromir to feel more comfortable admitting when he was unsure or didn’t know things, where previously he’d considered that a weakness he couldn’t afford (due to his father’s image of never being wrong). Theodred on the other hand also felt more comfortable with the concept that Some Battles Aren’t Worth Fighting. He didn’t need to dignify every taunt with the validation of noticing it. Sometimes ignoring something is just as good as defying it. And much more! This all naturally turned into them discussing and comparing their experiences as princes and captains, which also naturally turned into them acknowledging struggles and frustrations surrounding those titles that they really never talked to anyone else about. (This isn’t entirely true, Grimbold and Theodred were very close and Boromir’s few tight friends he made and kept all know somewhat of these things, but they can’t quite understand it in the same way) The pertinent point to all this is they grew close and understood each other really well, you know those people it’s just SO easy to be around? Like you always thought you were speaking the same language as everyone else but then you find someone who ACTUALLY speaks your language and you feel perfectly understood suddenly? Yeah!

- God there’s so much to explain, this is gonna need a cut

- This development is also perfectly mirrored in their feelings about each other’s cultures. Boromir was initially fond but ignorant of Rohir ways, influenced by the Gondorian idea that they were all somewhat rugged and unsubtle. Theodred had the impression that Gondor was a very monodimensional country of just self-aggrandising scholars and dull melancholy. And then, just through sharing their interests with each other, spending time together as friends do, they’re really very much shown their misinterpretations. Theodred goes to see Boromir’s wrestling matches at times when he’s in Gondor. Boromir has a WAIL of a time watching Theodred flyting, they get into each other’s interests! Which is something that starts off unconscious, but eventually Boromir feels at home amongst the rohirrim because they are Theodred’s people. And Theodred reconnects with his Grandmother’s family still in Gondor because that’s his connection to Boromir- WE’RE GOING OFF MESSAGE BUT THIS IS IMPORTANT BACKGROUND.

- The basic point is they are both very very familiar with the other’s ‘no emotions in this ecomony’ manner and know all the ways the other avoids just such emotions whilst also being very privvy to the rare evidence that they do both, indeed, have emotions. They also RESPECT that need in the other, to be careful, it’s not pushy. Non-verbally they reach a point where emotions will be safe between them, they don’t get made too heavy, they don’t pry, Theodred just accepts that Boromir is exhausted from appearing like every victory was easy when they’re barely hanging on. Boromir just accepts that Theodred is furious and frustrated with all the scrutiny his character is under from every Thane when they have far more dire things to worry about. They both understand that they’re very very tired of grief, of losing people, of accepting that it was likely their fault, and then moving on immediately afterwards. And also OH OH ALSO!! Very important, they came to their understanding of this war they’re in together too. This sense of impending doom. I think, different from everything else, they admitted the fact that they did not believe they would live to see a new age only to each other. They always knew it, but they had the space to voice it all. Yes, it’s up to us, yes, we will likely fail, yes, we’re going to fight this fight anyway. OK SO THAT- SO JUST- KEEP ALL THAT IN MIND, that’s the foundation of where this all starts SO.

(WAIT ALSO- sorry fuck- also important.... pining. Boromir’s relationship to romantic thoughts is VERY different to Theodred’s, he has a much more like... positive idea of romantic love than Theodred does. Even if that’s not saying much. But the point is that means Boromir realised he was full on deeply ‘I hate when he walks out of a room because everything is more enjoyable when he’s around’ in love with him much earlier than Theodred did. Around 20. HOWEVER, Boromir also has a very ingrained cultural sense of ‘oh but the comradery of friendship is beautiful! I shall be content with this, Theodred deserves my respect so I won’t think of him sexually’ and he’s saying this after having had sexual relationships with men in the past AND THEN GOES ON to have romantic/sexual relationships with men during his pining which is kinda messing with him a little, especially because he ISN’T content- Boromir’s yearning and creating some cultural hurdles for himself later.

Theodred takes a while longer, in all things, he’s not content to accept that he’s exclusively attracted to men for a good long while. He gives relationships with women a go but he’s just having to try so hard for not much and it’s never sustainable. Not helped by my hc of Rohan having a kinda like... half ancient grecian concept of male homosexuality? Which is VERY muddled in with Gondorian sensibilities and creating a wild atmosphere of ‘men with men is just about sex and that’s ok, normal for soldiers sort of, something to tease about, but also don’t bottom and also don’t fall in love with a man, we all have a complex relationship to love in general as men, good luck navigating our impenetrable toxic masculine thicket’. SO Theodred accepts he’s pretty inescapably attracted to Boromir quite young. But when Theodred begins suspecting he has real serious feelings for Boromir it’s a much more frustrating discovery, he hasn’t DECIDED this is ok yet. But he still hates to see him go and prefers arguing with Boromir than drinking with anyone else and he can’t stop his mind drifting to him or missing him when he’s away. PINING, SEE? This ship has everything, anyway moving on)

((NO WAIT PPS, the fact of Boromir’s sexuality is a kind of unspoken thing between him and Theodred, everyone else chalks up his disinterest in women to Boromir being a good Gondorian but Theodred (quietly) knows better. The extent of their talking about it is in private moments when Theodred says something like ‘of course you won’t be doing that I suppose’ and it’s just a quiet chuckle and then moved on, neither of them want to tALK about it. But eventually Theodred can’t be bothered with the effort of pretence any longer. It’s not until later that Boromir notices changes in Theodred where he’s given up on trying for lovers, stopped pretending to laugh at all the jokes he hates and is acting differently around some riders that Boromir’s thoughts turn that way and he wonders. OH KAY. THERE.))

A lot… happens… between Boromir and Theodred before during and after Eomund’s death (so through their 23-24 yo years). What’s important to understand is that the ‘realising feelings’ part was not that difficult. They were very important friends for each other long before anything else. Boromir knew he was in love with Theodred early on, but Theodred realised he was loved back first. And there was about a year of time where they both silently, quietly, and with some sardonic bitterness, knew the other knew.

Because the issue they actually- ahsd damn fuck there is SO MUCH in this that you need to know, it’s tied to this sense they have of not being made for joy, they weren’t made to succeed, they were here to try, they are made to defy the undefiable and lose because no matter the end, their people and these living homes of theirs deserve to be fought for, it’s an understanding that silently connects them, that they both do accept and they find it deeply aggravating and exhausting for people to claim it is otherwise- it’s still all about love for them, it’s all true, they’re happy to do it, they would have chosen these roles if they could have but!! But that drives them into these personas and mindsets of self sacrifice and somewhat mmm young concepts of hopelessness and effort-

The point is that the difficult part was getting to the point of agreeing that this thing between them, that would be just for them, was worth pursuing, was possible and that such a thing was meant for them. Over the year and during Eomund’s death so much happens and there’s this undercurrent that specifically for Theodred is… a kind of slow angry grief, that he wants this but it would just be adding to their obstacles, that BOROMIR wants this- it’s hard for him.

BUT GETTING TO THE POINT, in midsummer of the following year Theodred comes to the festival at Minas Tirith at the Steward’s invitation (and Theoden’s encouragement, Eomer and Eowyn had to have his full attention and Theodred’s presence was as yet not a fully comfortable one for the two children) AND… Boromir had done this before, but Midsummer requires much more elaborate dress and Boromir had an outfit made for Theodred, in his colours, fitting him and his comfort, and he met him at Minas Tirith’s gates and they hadn’t seen each other a great deal since Eomund’s death and there’s a PAUSE to see each other that neither of them acknowledge and Boromir takes him up to Merethond and they get talking and Boromir shows him the garments he had made and Theodred tries them on and Boromir pulls on the waistband and collar to make sure it sits on him properly and Theodred has a look to him of withheld gutting frustration and-

And in that moment Boromir thinks to himself ‘I’m going to fix that’. Good decisions are easier to make when it’s for the both of them and there’s a right kind of defiance that he feels when he nears this decision, a galvanising excitement, and when Theodred asks him what he thinks to break the silence, Boromir tells him he is handsome in a tone he’s never used before.

Theodred turns to look at him and he can’t look at Boromir without being IN THEIR WORLD with him, in their language and the flow they have together and Boromir’s smiling at him, confident, so even if his smile’s still a little painful, he looks at Boromir in his own celebratory garb that he wears so confidently and tells him he’s handsome too. Which gives Boromir an expression that Theodred likes too much and that neither of them are turning away from, but Theodred’s still got a scowl in the silence before he breaks it.

“No longer ‘unspoken’ then.”

“It still is, in technicality.”

“I don’t see the difference.”

“Was it so different before?”

And Theodred can’t help the quirk of his lip and the hand he brings down onto Boromir’s chest that he doesn’t take back. “Glibness doesn’t suit you, be serious, we won’t walk away from this unscathed.”

“I am not intending too.”

And Theodred is caught by that, a small “Oh.” escapes him. Boromir waits but Theodred can’t get the words out he’s just… looking at him, trying to puzzle through Boromir’s mind. So Boromir takes in a breath and;

“I wanted to kiss you at the gates.”

He says with an ease born of relief, just to say it out loud, Theodred’s hand is still on his chest and his own covers it and holds it there.

“Am I allowed now?”

Theodred doesn’t quite reply before Boromir’s leans in. He’s not cautious, he tilts his head and pushes into Theodred’s space and his hand strokes up and over Theodred’s stubble like a man who’s been thinking about doing nothing else for a long long time. Theodred is still, partly on instinct and partly because he is too focused on seeking intent in Boromir’s eyes. But when Boromir pauses, their lips an inch apart, those instincts are gone. And all he can do is relax, mindless and focused, shaking his head in incremental disbelief as his hand on Boromir’s chest fists tighter into his coat.

“You- brave, reckless fool.” He barks in a release of nerves and laughter.

“Yes, finally,” Boromir says in an answering breathless laugh.

They meet in the middle. It is brief, awkward, they orientate, hands stuttering before finding strong, comfortable grips on one another, Theodred’s fingers find Boromir’s curls at long last, he’s been pining after them for too long to let go once they pull away for the first time.

The first rasped question that comes to mind is, “… Did you know… I would-?”

“No, not really.” Boromir answers.

“… Fuck.” Is really the only appropriate response.

“What do you think?” Is asked next.

And there is a great deal he should be thinking about, but all that’s filling his mind is Boromir’s voice saying ‘I wanted to kiss you at the gates’. And it might not be new and he might have thought it himself before, but it’s so meaningful for them both to admit a want. It’s so vulnerable. Theodred hears it with such love, he feels suddenly like he’s holding something precious and fragile, secret knowledge of a moment when Boromir wanted. He’s heard Boromir want before but those were different, this is just for them. And- god that really activates him in a vital and ferocious way, he wants to hear more, wants to want and admit it. It makes him feel positively ravenous for it, for more moments of Boromir wanting. So he says;

“That I’ve never wanted to think less. Not yet, come on-.”

This kiss is longer, exploratory, and something to easily get lost in. A relief. Eventually Boromir’s back is against a wall and both princes are dishevelled with wanting grasping hands. Theodred has to laugh, more confident, invigorated. This has tapped into his bitten, fierce determination, this dogged manner he has where if he’s grasped something then he’ll get it done. He suddenly has living, breathing energy.

“I feel so bloody young.” He grumbles, because he does. And he can’t remember the last time he felt this kind of nervous fluttering discovery.

“… We are young.” Boromir breathes eventually, between his near panting breaths.

That isn’t so funny, just too true, despite how false it feels. How it almost rankles them both to acknowledge, considering all they had seen and done and been. All the dead boys and men they’d shucked to become men that were needed. What on earth was young reckless action doing appearing to them now? And yet it’s also right because… their youth has always belonged to each other.

As a thought it sobers them enough to give everything space to breathe. BUT THAT’S ENOUGH!! Oh my god!! This isn’t even finished- fuck

#Anonymous #chats #borodred #it's been literal months if not nearly a year and I just needed it OUT of my drafts #HERE YOU ARE ANON.... criminally late but here #boromir #theodred #tolkien #erran vs tolkien

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mc-critical · 4 years ago

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I really don’t understand the amount of people who apparently dislike Mihrimah for not giving Rüstem a chance/not having Rüstem grow on her. I don’t know entirely how I feel about Mihrimah as a character but I feel like if you were to dislike her that’d be a silly reason. It was a opportunistic marriage, one she never wanted and to a man she never loved. Not to mention he was also borderline pedophilic (when he said to her on her wedding night that he had been “waiting for this moment for years” when she was 17..okay) and then coercing her into consumating the marriage through the threat of suicide. Sure, the circumstances of Rüstem’s life were sad, but I don’t understand how that entails him being *entitled* to Mihrimah’s love or affection. And if anything I found Rüstem to be misogynistic and possibly even abusive, which likely made marriage to him all the worse. Mihrimah’s definitely not perfect or above criticism, but that doesn’t mean she owed any man love, sex or affection, royal borne woman or not.

I don't understand them, either. Because this is the last thing Mihrimah should be disliked for.

Rüstem is a very odious character with minimal redeeming qualities. His supposed love for Mihrimah is established disturbingly early on and while that may have fled over the audience's heads (it sure did fly over my head when I first watched the show!) because their marriage is a historical fact and as such, is automatically considered the normal course of things - the questionable pedophilic implications are definitely there and send off the alarming signs of utterly problematic behavior. Sure, he's done his duty by saving her after she fell off a horse and (little!) Mihrimah thanked him for it, but it is clearly seen in his eyes by the second episode he's on-screen that there's something more and something baffling when the girl is so young. And it only escalated from there.

Obviously, most of his fanbase ignores or flat out misses this aspect of his character, but I also find people that think that his attitude to Mihrimah is the only bad thing about Rüstem when I find most of his negative traits to be present outside of Mihrimah, but with her witnessing them. I feel the connection to Iskender Çelebi and the way he bacame the stable-man of the castle are his most important character establishing moments: they shine a light into his sneakiness and ability to play dirty, but also reveal his immediate prejudice against Ibrahim. The ambition, similar to Hürrem's, but not for the same reasons, is set up from the get-go. He's seemingly following Iskender, just like he comes to seemigly follow Hürrem, but he always forges his own path for his own gain. His alleged "loyalty" is the thing that Rüstem usually gets the most credit for, but while he begins to look like Hürrem's loyal companion that shall fulfill her every order, this whole facade is deconstructed and ultimately, totally broken apart in S04. His character establishing moments recontextualize all the decisions he makes in that season and show the true nature of his ambition: he followed Hürrem when she prevailed over everyone, he followed her when she seemingly gave him the world and all the desired power and when she and the one she wanted for the throne were put into a disadvantaged position and Selim got the upper hand, he ran straight for the opportunity, despite of him making an oath in front of the Quran not to do that. He turns out to be simply an opportunist hyena who works only for his own gain. Nothing more. Just like he saw the opportunity to get rid of the stable-man before him in the past, now he sees the opportunity to be on the winning side again with Selim. He doesn't care who is he in front of and who he promised what, as long as they're of no use to him, he bails. His "loyalty" immediately disappears from his positive traits, because it turns out he never had it in the first place. People praise him for his loyalty for Mihrimah, but that "loyalty" also lasted so long - when he found out that she wouldn't ever come to love him, he began to bang with Gracia Mendez, in conjunction with the betrayal of what Hürrem stood up for. Now, tell me, how can Mihrimah love such a guy? That was one of the only reasons she tolerated him and when even that was lost, how can she still keep her ties with him?

[His backstory is sad indeed, but the only thing it does is put his actions into perspective, not justify them or make him likeable somehow. Especially when what that "character lore dump" specifically explains is his refusal to tell Nigar where her daughter is - the backstory makes that action logical for his character, but it's still framed as nothing short of spiteful. That said, he still does have some soft sides and the arc with his brother is where I found him the most sympathetic - this is the time Rüstem actually showed vulnerability without false alarms or disguise and his brother was probably the only thing that was precious to him and stayed precious after all these years, consistently throughout his screentime. What helps even more, is the brother's role as a moral compass and the last bridge between the past/his loyalties and the future/the victories he would achieve through opportunism. That was the last gasp of what was left of his possible humanity and after his brother was killed, he let it go almost instantly, because... well, after he willingly chose his own life in the saray, he might as well continue to live it, right? Him saving a boy in S03 without any hesitation whatsoever, was also respectable. But these demonstrations of a softer side of his being are also taking place outside of Mihrimah, but with her not witnessing them altogether. And they do little in changing the general impression of Rüstem's character and his relationship with Mihrimah.]

We have to keep in mind that Mihrimah's whole S03 arc was finding purpose in her life and finding true love. She had many love stories throughout the series with different people, different personalities and different motives to try to make it work with them. No matter what they've went through together and despite of them all having the same outcomes due to different outside (and inside) factors, there is a reason she fell for these people in the first place. Okay, while for Bali Bey it was a bizarre, puppy, immature, childish love, for Taşlicalı something truly genuine began to flourish with all the glances, poems, dedication (Mahidevran succeeded to break them up, but it's not to be denied that Taşlicalı was very hard to convince and he was still thinking of her afterwards) and sweet words. She got a call for a new adventure with him. Bali Bey, on the other hand, was adored by her mostly for his handsomeness, I feel, but even when he tore all her dreams apart, he showed tact and respect. What I mean to say is, if Rüstem has qualities that are "worthy of Mihrimah", wouldn't she see them? Wouldn't she see all these virtues? Because all she sees before the marriage are his words that she will marry him, that she will be his and that's it. The best she sees of him is his good manners when he asks her whether she wants something or stuff, but he could do that with everyone else, knowing his post, and the previous implications make even that alone head scratching. Why would she want a man like that? I agree with all your points. Are you, people, denying Mihrimah her feelings? She realized the potential advantages of this marriage and agreed to do it regardless, why does she have to come to love him when he truly gives her no real reasons to, even before she married him?

I believe Rüstem cares about Mihrimah, albeit in his own distorted, toxic way, but in reality, he didn't do her any good. His relationship with Mihrimah revels in manipulation and facades for her to keep, because she has to "protect" her brothers. Rüstem never actually took account of her own feelings or opinions on matters, especially when what she proposed wasn't an opportunistic enough option for him to afford. Their interactions are mostly focused on the survival of the game and the actions that have to be taken to achieve that. He often puts an unbelievable amount of pressure on her, which while given because of the system they live in, hurt more than it helped. Their relationship was never allowed to flourish in a healthy manner and Mihrimah could never be truly herself in it, not even for a moment. The castle she lived in, her home, was merely full of tension every day, not a source of comfort. His stoic, serious cunning contrasts with her own spirit. Not to mention that it always seemed he considered his marriage to Mihrimah as a price, a goal he had finally achieved and I doubt that she wasn't aware of it to some extent. The root of the marriage is only political opportunism and no matter how hard you try, you simply cannot force a person to love someone they're with only out of sheer necessity, only for a purpose for "the greater good". Rüstem never did anything to earn Mihrimah's love and she shouldn't be hated for not loving him. This is what MC Rüstem is as a character, whether we like it or not, and he isn't a healthy person for Mihrimah. If she couldn't warm up to him when she fully got to know him in their alone time, that means something is missing. That means he just isn't for her and. that's. OKAY.

But there may be reasons why some people could dislike Mihrimah because of it. I offer my experience with cases I've encountered in forums: these people are usually very invested in Hürrem's character to the point they view everything she does as excusable, at the least, so of course they would want to justify Hürrem marrying Mihrimah to Rüstem. But plainly selfish political gain is no justification and that may leave cracks in their view of Hürrem and it all may disturb them to a great amount. That's why they channel this ire on Mihrimah and perhaps demand for her to warm up to Rüstem, so they get the justification Hürrem supposedly deserves, especially paralleled with Valide and Mahidevran's previous attempt to marry Aybige and Mustafa, who.. surprise, surprise (but not really), didn't love each other. There's another facet to this, with people seeing or wanting to see Mihri only as "her mother's daughter" and not wanting to marry, not loving Rüstem destroys that picture, because there's a "crack in the system", she doesn't listen to her mother, who obviously knows better and that could be disappointing or demotivating, given the expectations she has set when she defended her in E84. Or maybe they dislike Mihrimah for not loving Rüstem, because they do find something in him. They love "bad boys" and genuinely don't know why Mihrimah doesn't, either and that could make them see her as an annoyance. Or maybe they just anticipate more juicy scenes between her and Rüstem because of the probable chemistry between the two actors and if they watch it only for the spectacle (believe me, such people really exist!), they may insist that Mihrimah is only spoiled and ruined everything for them. Or maybe, again, people may find this insulting to the historical facts or whatnot and if Mihrimah didn't not stand him, this "mess" of writing could be fixed a little. The writers have ruined her character along with the history, according to them. It's absurd, I know and I don't get it, either, but the reasons are there, as far as I'm concerned. That still doesn't take away from the fact that this is the weirdest accusation you could throw at Mihrimah, with how Rüstem himself is.

You're right that Mihrimah has many other, vastly more offputting traits that she could be disliked for. Little Mihrimah is very brash and spoiled and entitled, to the point she gave her own mother a run for her money. That was gone when she grew up, but it would be understandable if some didn't actually believe the change, especially when she shows this side of hers again every now and then. She could be perceptive, but could also be prone to influence at the same time, sometimes to an annoying degree. There have been times where she has let her own bias lead her and that clouded her judgement in several occasions. She came to idealize her mother too much sometimes, as well. She was terribly insistent on her infatuation with Bali Bey and letting go of it took her very long. She didn't want to listen much to the enemies of her own mother. Her huge love for Bayezid prevented her from viewing Selim as objectively. She could be vengeful. She could be bossy. She couldn't fully face someone calling her out on her mistakes. (the confrontation with Selim in E139) She became so engrained to her castle life that when she was offered a way out, she didn't follow it. All these are very interesting character flaws for me, but I get why they might be a dealbreaker. But disliking or hating her for not loving Rüstem? Heck, hating her for her contribution to Mustafa's death alone is more valid than that! Disliking her for all these flaws piling up together is perfectly reasonable. But for this? It's strange.

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #mihrimah sultan #rustem pasha #ask #stuffandthangs

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mydisasteracademia · 4 years ago

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Random Shigaraki Headcanons

This boi. This grubby boi. I love him so much but at the same time he would probably literally dust me so... (oof this one kinda dragged on and on... lol)

Literally has no idea about real-life relationship dynamics outside of what he’s observed in his own parents, in Sensei, and in Kurogiri. All he thinks in the beginning is that people who claim to love you will stand by and let you be hurt, that villains took care of him better than any damn hero, and that he can only truly rely on himself. (And Sensei.)

It takes a loooooooong time of interacting with other people to break himself out of this mindset, and even then, sometimes it comes creeping back if bad things happen.

Getting into canon territory with this one, but really, really, reeeeeeeeally hates heroes because they didn’t even bother to help him when he was going through a whole mental breakdown. Literally one of the only reasons he hates them so much. I know this is pretty much canon, but I doubt he would ever grasp Stain’s ideology of ‘maybe some are good’ because in his eyes, not even the underground pro heroes even bothered to see if he was okay. Remember the scene from the manga with the old lady when he was a child? Yeah. There were bound to be heroes he bumped into, even off-duty ones, and nobody even gave him another glance.

Has extremely bad abandonment issues. If he likes you, he’s gonna want to keep you because he didn’t really have anything nice to call his own while growing up, and Sensei kept him fairly isolated so he literally tolerates nobody else other than him and Kurogiri at first. Reacts horribly when his friends want to break off the friendship. Goes through a whole depressive episode for a while, his old insecurities pop back up, and he really thinks he’s worse than trash and not worth anyone’s time or attention for a while. Prime time for Sensei to further twist his mind.

On that same note, if you’re dating, for the love of everything still good in this world do not break his heart. He will never forgive you. Literally will go to the grave before he forgives you for doing what you did (whether it be cheating on him or completely dropping him like a hot potato). Although this might also extend to little issues that make him feel like you don’t love him enough, he’ll forgive you if you show him plenty of attention and apologize for whatever he was upset over. If you cannot remain patient through his toxic mindsets, it’s best not to get into a relationship in the first place with him if you want to still remain friends afterward, because breaking it off means instant heartbreak.

Anyway! Back to happier, funnier hcs!!

The whole embodiment of the “Wears black in summer because I look good and am willing to suffer” vine. Will not give up his comfy black shirt and sweats for anything because yes, he does look good in black, and yes, he is willing to suffer. He’ll switch to a v-neck tee though. Even he’s not that masochistic.

Really prone to dry skin. I know that’s canon, but just... this poor man can’t keep moisturized to save his own life. Constantly has to apply a special moisturizer that’s specifically made for ultra-sensitive skin and has no scents whatsoever.

Will gripe about having to spend so much money on ointment and moisturizer for both him and Dabi. It’s one of the very few things they bond over, other than having a shitty father and pushover family... and their hatred of All Might.

Shigaraki 100% would be Dabi’s alibi if he actually managed to kill Endeavor. When it comes to the shitty dad club, he’s a fuckin’ ride-or-die.

Kinda sensitive over the fact that both he and Midoriya have the same sort of red shoes, but he loves his pair too much to throw them out. Purposefully aims for Midoriya’s shoes every single time they meet each other on the off chance that they get ruined enough for him to get different shoes, unknowing that he literally can’t just... get differently-colored shoes due to him being originally Quirkless (yes, The Shoes™ theory strikes again)

Literally never forgets a single thing about people he cares about. He’s the type of person who will remember every single thing you tell him about yourself, and especially birthdays. While he doesn’t exactly show his affection very loudly, he would be the type of person who tell you “happy birthday” on the day of as soon as he first sees you, and would treat you a little nicer all day that day.

This boy just has the biggest, scarred heart for his ‘good crowd’. I cannot stress enough just how much like Midoriya he could’ve turned out if he hadn’t been abandoned by society. This mf would give the green bean a run for his motherfuckin money.

“I really just hate the world and everything in it... except for you, maybe I could make an exception for you because you’re nice to me and I appreciate your company too much”

Even though I hc quite a few League members to be like cats when it comes to affection, Shigaraki’s spirit animal is a cat. Likes to lounge about in off-moments, slow to affection and very quick to remember exactly how people treat him, yet if he likes you he shows affection quietly enough that it’s not obvious at first. Like “oh, you’re in the same room as me. It’s not like I missed you or anything, me sitting right next to you at the bar when it’s totally empty means nothing. The fact that I’m looking right at you when you’re talking doesn’t mean I like you.”

LOVES HUGS. If you hug him and he likes you, you’ve probably made his whole day. Depending on how things are going, probably his whole fucking week. Just please hug him, he needs positive affection so bad

Major tsun-tsun. The most tsun-tsun. Grumpy until you get to know him, and if he likes you he’ll show you in little ways: listening to your ideas more, letting you stay closer for longer, maybe getting you something like food.

AFRAID OF TOUCH. I REPEAT, AFRAID OF TOUCH. Not from anyone he likes, of course; this baby is so touch-starved that he deserves a thousand hugs. But if he likes you, he will not initiate physical affection because he’s so afraid of accidentally dusting you. The memories of his family dying (except for his father, because #FuckKotaro2k21) haunt him almost every time he dreams (and if that doesn’t, then other traumatizing events certainly do), and he absolutely would not forgive himself if he dusted his favorite League member/civilian.

Definitely likens the rest of the League to his MVPs after a while of knowing them. Knowing how he operates, it’s adorable.

Would begrudgingly let Toga play around with his hair. I can just see him sitting blank-faced, staring at the mirror as she talks about whatever while brushing and braiding it into a cute plait. He would be hesitant to undo her hard work afterward, no matter how much he grouches that it “ruins his boss vibe”.

The kind of person to go to McDonalds at 3 AM just because he was craving chicken nuggets and ranch. Yes, ranch. He’s an old-school mf who don’t got no time for no barbecue.

Gets really irritated over Toga mooning over Uraraka and Midoriya, but doesn’t stop her from talking about how much she wants to ‘be’ them. (Encourages homicide. Advises homicide. Spinner has to stop her from actually getting ready to commit homicide.)

Disgruntled™

G L O A T S about the time he took away Overhaul’s chance to use his Quirk. “Yeah, we would’ve been satisfied with Compress taking his left arm away to be petty, but then Overhaul had to be a sentient piece of dick cheese, and well, y’know I couldn’t let him get away with that”

It’s becoming a problem. The others have learnt to tune him out once he gets going. Compress just smiles under the mask when he remembers it. Nobody knows what he’s really thinking.

His damn crowning moment. His apex point. There’s no going further beyond that (until he finally defeats Midoriya and takes over Japan as the world’s most feared villain of all time).

“Shigaraki, I’mma let you finish, but AFO still holds the record for being the most infamous villain of all time! Of all time!” <-- let the boy dream okay, he’s been waiting for this moment his whole damn life

Can you tell that I’m still horribly salty over Overhaul being an ass? Because I’m still horribly salty over Overhaul being an ass

Chronic emo phase. Hears the G note and just sighs heavily

Has probably seen hentai. Doesn’t really get the appeal of high-pitched feminine screams. Probably more of a tiddy man than an ass man. Just... boobie

His first fictional crush was Aeris/Aerith. Legitimately lost his shit when she died.

Man Crush Monday is Sephiroth all the way. Especially his one-winged angel form. Wanted to cosplay him for Halloween but didn’t because the cosplay was too costly.

Will make “That’s what she said” jokes in the most deadpan voice. At least Mustard kinda snickers at them.

Probably would’ve been pretty patient with Eri. Her traumatic past certainly would’ve pitted her as a kindred spirit with him, and he would think her Quirk would be a powerful asset if used right. Probably would’ve practiced it by destroying something and then telling her to rewind it so that he can break it again.

Shigaraki, holding Eri by her armpits: “I’ve only had her for ten minutes but if anything happened to her I’d dust everyone in the room to make her feel better”

The rest of the League: “???????? Okay?????”

Legitimately holds a powerful grudge against parents who abuse or neglect their children, especially against abusive fathers. Almost as powerful as his hatred for All Might. Will actively go after someone he sees is abusive to their children and will not let them live.

Would probably adopt an orphan after killing their abusive parents. “Oh, that was your dad/mom/parent? Well guess you’re mine now. Let’s go get chicken nuggets, kid”

Might somehow rope Dabi into going abusive-parent-hunting with him during a raid. Takes great pleasure in seeing the guilty party’s horrified, pained look on their face as they slowly dissolve into a pile of ash.

#shigaraki headcanons

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jasonbrennerold · 4 years ago

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so,,, a lot of jasons (primarily romantic, but platonic as well) relationships are doomed from the start (unless plotted otherwise)

this is mostly modern verse based, and will change for canon/private/fandom verses

as a teenager there's almost no chance of jasons romantic relationships lasting or doing well. he's still so clueless about the world and how it works, and as a whole is unbelievably vulnerable compared to the average person. there are very very few people who would manage to make things work, and for the most part the only chance of successful romantic relationships are other experiments/people with similar pasts. this isn't to say that it's impossible for him to have a good relationship with anyone else, but more that realistically things will be very hard to handle.

in the earlier teen years (15-17/18) jason will be clueless about a lot of things, will be extremely dependent and a lot less emotionally mature than his peers. his reactions to things will be drastic, he'll be possessive and he won't understand nuances or hints. these relationships would eventually end up tiring for everyone involved, jasons communication issues being difficult to get past for the most part. jason is also under a lot of pressure in general (adjusting to the world, bullying, the lab still chasing him, learning that his past was bad, school as a whole, etc) and is very likely to have emotional, potentially violent, outbursts if he's overwhelmed - much like young children who haven't learned to handle their emotions yet. he'll also tell people they can/should hit him if they're upset or angry, and while he won't push it he'll clearly remain on edge afterwards even if they insist they don't want to. speaking tends to be jasons biggest weapon, his silence is often the default.

his older teenage years (17/18-20) are much the same, but kind of worse. jason is introduced to drugs and alcohol and turn to both in an attempt to numb the pain he feels regarding his past and to stop the overwhelming nature of the world around him. because of this he's more likely to have outbursts and finds himself struggling emotionally. trying to start a relationship at this point is near impossible, and any relationships are most likely built around drinking, drugs or sex. they're not solid relationships and aren't at all likely to last - if they do they're toxic as hell and definitely involve red flags from both sides. jason is still extremely dependent during this time period and will likely latch on to unhealthy relationships. while jason is often toxic in these relationships, hes also very vulnerable and its easy for him to fall victim to people with poor intentions. hes very likely to fall into relationships that involve grooming, manipulation and abuse. jason can not function in the world on his own, which makes it very easy for him to be treated poorly. he doesn't know anything about money, is addicted to things he can't afford by normal means, can't do a lot of basic tasks (or doesn't know how to) and is still used to the way he was treated in the lab. there's definitely at least one dealer that jason pays with sex, and is definitely heavily manipulated/groomed by them, and he kind of just doesn't realize the badness of it. jason also tells people they can hit him/be violent when they're angry or upset, which is definitely exploited a lot, which only reinforces the idea in jasons head.

as a young adult (20-23/24) jason is getting clean and working on bettering himself. relationships formed in this time period are likely to have a better chance at working out, but are still tough to handle. jason is working on his dependency issues, but he's still extremely dependent. in the early days of getting clean he leans heavily on his significant other and tries to use them as a distraction from withdrawals and the desire to use/drink. this tends to lead to a lot of attempts at sex, which is generally jasons go-to as far as grand gestures to make things better. he still struggles to understand a lot and get the nuances, but he's trying. he's learning a lot of things that make him more competent on his own (money basics, cooking, etc) and is generally becoming more well rounded. any people he meets and forms bonds with during this time will generally not be told about his past, even if they do discover his abilities. hes open about being adopted and may allude to abuse in the past but generally won't go into detail. he will try to hide his abilities for as long as he can, fearing that they'll leave if they find out. there's a lot of desperate behavior to try to prevent them leaving, even if they show no signs of doing so. he still gets frustrated a lot, mostly at himself when he cant do things, but is much more cautious and actively works against taking it out on others. he does still encourage other people to take out their feelings on him, though.

as an adult (24+) jason is beginning to stand on his own more, slowly becoming less and less dependent on those around him. he still won't open up about his past in relationships unless he absolutely has to, but he's more open to his therapists than he was in his young adult timeline (still not as open as he was in his younger teenage years, and he stopped going to therapy in his later teen years). jason is generally more mature and caring in relationships and works towards dealing with his emotions better and being truly open. these relationships are pretty well off as far as chances of success, but he is still hiding large portions of his life from his significant others and will go to great lengths to keep things secret. when the truth is out he'll stop lying so much, but definitely still doesn't like to talk about it. avoidance is his primary way of dealing with things.

in general jason is very easily manipulated due to his lack of knowledge about the world, and while many of his significant others won't intend to manipulate him its likely that they still will in ways they dont realize because he doesn't know any better. jason's very dependent and clingy, both physically and mentally/emotionally. he's not very knowledgeable on life and a lot of the relationship will involve taking care of him - which is no easy task. he often uses sex as a bargaining chip — to make other people feel better, to feel better himself, as a distraction, as an outlet. it takes him a long time to realize that sex can be just a fun thing to do to show you love someone. hes very meek, and will generally not fight back on most topics. one of the few things he'll be quite stubborn on is his insistence on punishment when he's done something he perceives as wrong; this usually comes in the form of asking them if they want to hit him, sometimes even insisting they do, and occasionally turning to ways to punish himself if that punishment isn't found from an external source.

#im quite upset now thanks #anyway this is just 'jason has a lot of red flags: the novel'#jasons late teen years..... oh i have so much to say im so emotional #i must simply fantasize ab jasons private verses where he finds love and is happy #meta.#headcanons.

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alaskatalks · 3 years ago

Text

Abuse in the Youtube Vlogging Community — My Experiences

Note 07/07/2021: My original posting was removed by unknown so this will now live here. Please be aware of the content warnings.

Apr 26·14 min read

2012–2018

CW Mention of; Suicide, Assault, Blood, Rape, Deceased Person(s)/‘Suicide Forest Video’

I’m writing this statement to not only provide background on the toxic and abusive culture of the community at the time but to support the multiple other people who have recently come forward detailing abuse from within the UK vlogging Youtube community, and to finally talk about these incidents publicly after carrying them for so long alone.

As I am writing this, one of those mentioned has contacted several mutual acquaintances to stop me from sharing my own story to those people privately,then when they and I didn’t, this person quickly began to smear my name. Because of this I want to begin with some basic background and thoughts which will be most likely be used/twisted in the coming days/weeks by those I mention.

I will only be discussing physically abusive events I was personally privy to but to keep this specific I will be omitting the many micro and macro-aggressions I experienced as usually the only black mixed/non-white and working-class individual in the room/group. It was clear to me quickly that if you were an “other” in certain ways, you’d be open to mockery, namely also if you were working class or lacking financially, I’d heard Chris repeatedly make remarks and mean comments behind the backs of his own guests/friends at various events and parties in his own home in addition to others making similar comments. Because I appeared white passing that time especially; I made my heritage/ethnicity explicitly clear when it first began as a failed attempt to minimize racial remarks around me and then from then on, kept my private life private from many in the group. I learned quickly to ignore a lot directed at me — as I was younger and possessed no media industry contacts or clout/followers at the time, I had to accept my place in this kind of mostly elitist clique/working environment as the only way to continue working with the people I looked up to.

I met everyone personally and got into the community when I was 16/17 after being a fan for many years, contacting CB via post and then emailing him, I wanted to get into television eventually and thought working with YouTube vloggers I looked up to would be a great first step in that direction. Everything detailed below I had previously tried to discuss with those involved privately, but was unsupported and thrown away both professionally and personally.

Rachel

I want to talk briefly about Rachel as I was around just before she joined the general group so was witness to a lot of things. I have spoken to Rachel privately but want to share the frustration and bitterness I feel and felt publicly. Please read her statement via twitter for their story. (In addition to addressing the dangerously hypercritical individuals I have seen crawling out of the woodwork to send her empty public displays of ‘support’ whilst in the past they contributed heavily to the environment which fostered abuse or carried it out themselves.)

The first few times I met Rachel it was at different pubs, and so I had always assumed that she was at least 18 on joining the general group, I was also told (unprompted) about her familial connections within the media/television industry — something that I now believe contributed to many of the youtubers mentioned overlooking basic welfare issues and red flags, and instead thinking of furthering their careers. I spent close to a year trying to help as I could see certain red flags in her ‘relationship’ with JSL, him struggling very heavily and publicly with alcoholism at the time, and Rachel seemingly struggling also. I made my concerns known repeatedly because I was worried, having myself suffered from various abuse from a young age I instinctively wanted to help.

However, close friends of Rachel herself and others, namely Bown, sent me the repeated and clear message that I was “in the way”, this was a message Bown kept telling me once he was living with JSL, who I had begun seeing months prior to Rachel meeting him. I was told by them that my concern was only jealousy and experienced an abundance of side eyes, verbal abuse, bad mouthing, and gossip — I was just a ‘jealous bitch’ in many eyes. (This all despite me being polyamorous with my primary partner from before dating JSL to this current day) I continued to help Rachel whenever I saw her in person before ending things with JSL and distancing myself because not only was I incredibly uncomfortable dating someone who was in a unhealthy situation, but I was very selfishly fed up receiving so much hate when I did speak my mind on the subject. In hindsight, especially after finding out recently that Bown was aware of Rachel’s age, I wish I’d have stuck around.

Rachel is incredible and I hope the following can contribute in some way to validating all those who were victimized by these same people in addition to others with similar stories. For Rachel’s full statement please read it on her Twitter in its entirety @rachelkiki_

Beginning with MT, I had been a huge fan of The Man Time Podcast and The Fratocrats for years before so on meeting him at a party for the first time at C.B’s place, I was excited to talk to him, however, as soon as he found out I had a partner (literally the first thing he asked/said to me after hello) he walked away from me and didn’t interact with me in any way for the rest of the party. A few months later when I was single we slept together for the first time, halfway through he held my wrists down suddenly and just as I thought he was going to kiss me he instead spat in my mouth. I did not ask for, nor want this and reacted as negatively as you’d expect, then feeling incredibly uncomfortable made some excuses and tried to stop things physically.

It was a little while later I found out that he had spoken to a group of very popular youtubers, one of whom was Tom. I found out that not only did MT “report back” to these youtubers detailing a story about how we had had sex and I was in fact, horrendous at it, but hearing about it from C.B. in the form of the question whilst he smiled jokingly “Is this true?” was not only super inappropriate but humiliating.

These were people I had looked up to for years and really wanted to work within the future, but now that seemed like it wouldn’t happen, especially if I ‘made a fuss’. MT wanted to meet up with me at a later point (once I’d confronted him repeatedly afterwards) though when we met it was clear he just wanted to have more sex and the half assed ‘apology’ was more tokenistic. He was sorry “If” anything he did upset me. Because of my own previous trauma (and low self-esteem admittedly) I thought the only way to redeem my reputation would be to continue to see him — I thought if others knew or saw us flirting casually even, it would negate his rumors. This obviously didn’t help and the damage had been done.

Tom*

Shortly after that, whilst on a work trip with CB and others, Tom approached me at a bar and asked me for a photo, I thought it was odd but perhaps he was just being friendly. I was a big fan of Eddsworld so I was okay with it, he took a photo of us both, making sure I smiled and then sent it to MT who was sitting a few tables away in our group as a further way to humiliate me. I spoke about it with some of the others privately after being laughed at, who seemed used to that kind of behavior. I just needed to get used to it and/or “lighten up” so I tried to remain professional and focused, though it seemed more and more like certain people viewed me as disposable entertainment almost, rather than a person.

*I do want to note, as of writing this today, Tom is the only person to reach out to genuinely apologise, which I highly appreciate.

Bown

I could fill multiple pages with the amount of racial charged, sexist and abusive things Bown has done and/or said to me, for example, he berated me the day I got my first big television job, calling me stupid, useless and implying I was only hired because of my ethnicity. He almost always sent his hate via text or instant messaging, I mention that because he commonly expressed all his negativity behind a screen, then in person, he would do a lot of gaslighting. When drunk at his worst, his understanding of the word no became non-existent when I would repeatedly ask not to be touched or requested space.

On one occasion when I had made clear it was a platonic hang, we were watching a film when he suddenly reached over and pressed his fingers into my breasts. I felt instantly violated, I froze for a few seconds and then pulled my shirt up to cover more of my chest/create a visual barrier. I said don’t/stop and continued watching the film. In shock — we weren’t even touching or hugging before- that but he nonetheless did it again and laughed as if it was some kind of game. I made it very clear I was not interested and did not like what he had done. This repeated when he was drunk and said he wanted to apologise, it was at a party which wasn’t the time nor place for that kind of conversation, then, with me saying so then no multiple times, he kept grabbing my waist, then arms and shoulders, refusing to give me the space I was requesting.

There was a lot of disrespect and ugliness I experienced from my first experience ‘working’ (unpaid at first and then at or under minimum wage afterwards) to present but again, I’m only discussing the physical stuff. The first physical time he hurt me was when on tour sharing a room (due to a lack of space as we were out of London) I was sharing with JSL on the floor and Bing had the bed alone. I was awoken in the early hours of the morning to a small piece of metal (which turned out to be a zip as I recall) from a pillow, hitting me hard. I was confused and so thought it was an accident — I assumed the pillow had fallen off the bed by mistake so reached over and put it back on Bing’s bed before going back to sleep. I was then awoken repeatedly by Bing’s hand hitting me in my face hard and repeatedly, though I tried to turn around with my back to him, I then experienced the same but on the back of my head, and my hair being pulled. He had thought the very loud snoring which was waking him up was me, but it was in fact JSL (most who have lived with him or slept in close corners knows he can be a snorer) the next morning I woke having a panic attack which I dealt with before asking him why he did that as it really hurt, he replied that I was snoring but when I told him of the mistake he just looked at me funnily and that was that. No apology ever appeared.

The worst experience I had with him was at his house during a party; it was winding down and I could sense him rushing people out the room in a hushed tone; I was looking at his bookcase, filled with cd’s at the time. On hearing the hushed tones I could sense something was wrong/odd and looked around to find myself suddenly alone in his room. I said a quick sorry, that I didn’t realise and will go join everyone else upstairs if he wants to sleep, he said it was no problem and I should have a drink before bed with him. I was content looking at the cds and before I could answer he brought me a cup and poured out a drink for me (clearly over pouring). I had just eyed a specific CD from my all-time favourite band (they were very niche at the time) and exclaimed in joy before showing it to him, he responded that a fan had sent it to him, I laughed because I was that fan, I had included the CD in a fan letter I sent to him years back. He was giving me a really odd look and then as I said ‘anyway,’ laughing in that british ‘I should get going’ kind of way.

He grabbed the CD before putting it on and pulling me towards the bed. We were sitting side by side and as soon as he grabbed me towards the bed I gave a nervous laugh saying something along the lines of ‘no, I don’t’ when he interrupted me to say it’s all fine, just one song and I need to drink, pushing my cup up which I’d been holding with both hands motionlessly since he gave it to me. As soon as I took a sip, he put his hand on my waist, I kept protesting as he pushed more towards then against me and repeated things like “It’s no big deal” and “It will be fast” ignoring my physical resistance and me audibly saying I did not want to. He placed his hand on mine and pulled it towards his groin area — this was when I finally stopped freezing and pulled away forcibly, I then sat up off the bed and made a beeline for the door — apologizing as I went. As soon as I was on the other side of the door I burst out crying and having a severe panic attack, I muffled the noise and went upstairs where I knew others were sleeping before I couldn’t keep quiet. I cannot remember who else was upstairs but there were multiple people (at least 5) sleeping in various places, I woke up quite a few before being calmed down and going to sleep. He hired me one last time after that as a producer.

H H S

H.H.S is the long time editor of the Paul brothers, he’s worked with many large youtubers and was one of (if not the main) editor of now notorious Logan Paul’s “Suicide Forest Video”,– the following happened around that time for context and is one of the biggest catalysts in my completely giving up on working within the YouTube vlogging sphere. H.H.S had been lightly dragged on his Facebook by friends on a post where he apologized for the Logan Paul video he responded with a fundraiser event post (both this, and the fundraiser have since been deleted) the fundraiser itself was to a suicide prevention charity, although he created it, he hadn’t and didn’t invite anyone directly to it — in hindsight, it’s clear it was just lazy personal pr. I had my own mental health and neurological episode and had attempted to take my own life a little before, so I had created an event with friends to celebrate being alive and beginning new/better things. Not many could come on short notice, though H.H.S was the first (and only) person to click ‘attending’ on the event page, which he did very quickly once I sent out invites.

He never was overly kind or supportive emotionally, so I thought that because of the amount of mutual colleagues, close friends and vloggers invited he would look very crass not to come. I was upset that many couldn’t make it and drank far too much, though I could Just about walk by the time we left the bar — the last 4 of us decided to head back to H.H.S to drink and hang out more as a group. I was meant to text my friend and her partner the address whilst they went home quickly to grab a coat as they lived nearish. H.H.S helped me into the cab and we made our way to his place, it’s then he put his hand behind the seat and began touching my leg. I thought he had a partner at the time and so was confused as he mentioned her earlier in the night, I asked him about this roughly over drinks at his house (which he poured himself) and he said it was fine, I accepted this as I was very drunk by this time and being ethically non-monogamous at the time; I assumed naively that they talked before this. I don’t remember what happened after this until later, I know that I was so drunk I completely forgot to ask H.H.S again for the address, let alone that I had to contact my friend at all.

I remember roughly that things seemed to me above board, but then I experienced a huge amount of pain as he had pushed me onto my front and put his entire weight onto me, I started to say stop, and no as he put more weight onto me and was trying to enter me anally. I told him to stop and that it hurt (he had done this before to me but stopped after a few seconds of me saying no and we discussed how it wasn’t okay with me especially without prior consent so I didn’t expect this). He then put his weight further on me so I was prone and continued for several minutes, I managed to move my body so it wouldn’t hurt as much, though by this point I was stuck under his weight and could barely breathe. Once he had “finished” he got off of me and said something about how this was a good “purge” for him but he loves his girlfriend and so should sleep in the living room. I was in total shock as he just exited the room.

I had no way of getting home by myself and triggered , drunk and confused I went to sleep. I woke up to H.H.S typing away on his computer next to my bed and I shouted “bucket” multiple times so he ran and got me one which I then projectile vomited into. I apologized and went to the bathroom to continue throwing up before heading back to his bedroom to find my things and get home. As I was doing this I asked about the video, he wasn’t talking otherwise and I was extremely uncomfortable trying to hold back a panic attack and further barfing. I waited for my taxi to come as he confirmed everything about the video that I had expected, he boasted about being the main editor of that video, how it was his idea to blur the body, how they wanted more views and they (him and Logan Paul) obviously didn’t care genuinely for anything to do with suicide prevention — this was after excusing various racist acts and remarks made by Logan.

H.H.S didn’t contact me for a full week after this incident, when I got home I discovered I was bleeding from his forced entry, and went into another panic attack. I tried to contact Bing, who had introduced me to him in the first place, when I was met with a barrage of blame. He told me a lot of things like ‘What did you expect?’, ‘That’s on you’ and on me beginning to cry and get emotional, he quickly started to distance himself saying that we aren’t “really friends” anymore, and further slut shaming. I wanted help and was rejected, not only by him but the few others also who I contacted. I figured if my friends would not help me, why would the Police believe me?

I reached out to H.H.S privately but was ignored, he read my messages but did not respond, though remained friends with me on facebook. He now has his own channel with 134k subscribers and won a Streamy Award for his editing work with Logan Paul. If you’ve read all of this, thank you sincerely. I’ve carried this for far too long alone, every time I heard of the people involved and even the Paul brothers names, things just came rushing back violently. After being rejected by so many I believed to be my friends, I decided I shouldn’t come out publicly at the time as I thought no one would believe me, that in addition to the fact that I valued the content they created to such a vast degree that I thought it more important to keep quiet.

Thanks to a sadly long list of brave people, I now know that I matter and so does my voice. I hope that with this, I can finally begin to let all these incidents go and know I appreciate every single person who has been an ally and/or spoke their own truths.

#MeToo #BlackLivesMatter #StopAisanHate

Alaska Harrison

#metoo #blacklivesmatter #youtube #abuse

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