#don't want to write it so it doesn't appear on the tag but it's WILD COMPARING A IRL SERIAL KILLER WITH FUCKING BAKUGOU????

[beesarthur]

Where in the world were Mulder and Scully?

I'm sure someone else has already made this list, but I've decided to keep track of how many U.S. states (and DC) (and Puerto Rico) Mulder and Scully investigate an incident in. Not counting other locations where part of the incident happens but Mulder and Scully never go to (like England in 1:12). (edited 3/27/24 after watching 2:19) This started as a list of US states and I continue to be interested in counting US states and territories, but the time has come to set up the list for other locations as well. This list includes places that Mulder and/or Scully go to during the episode to investigate a case. Action in DC that is not related to a case in DC does not count. If the action is in DC and spills over to Maryland and/or Virginia, I just count DC, but if the thing starts in VA and then things also happen in DC, I count both. I don't know, it's not an exact science, and the DC area is fluid to me. So far we have...

US States & Territories:

Oregon (1:1)

Idaho (1:2, 2:18)

Maryland (1:3, 1:15, 1:21, 1:24, 2:16, 2:17, 3:7, 3:16, 3:23, 4:8, 4:9, 4:16, 4:21, 5:3, FtF, 6:6, 6:12)

Iowa (1:4)

New Jersey (1:5, 2:2)

Pennsylvania (1:6, 2:3, 2:16, 3:9, 4:2, 4:3, 4:12, 4:13, 4:14, 5:13, 5:14, 5:18)

Virginia (1:7, 2:5, 2:6, 2:21, 2:22, 2:23, 3:7, 3:17, 3:24, 4:8, 4:10, 4:16, 4:21, 4:24, 5:1, 5:11, 5:13, 5:17, FtF, 6:7, 6:11)

Alaska (1:8, 2:17)

Texas (1:9, 5:12, FtF)

Wisconsin (1:10, 2:10)

Connecticut (1:11, 2:4)

California (1:11, 2:7, 3:15, 3:19, 4:11, 5:6, 5:7, 6:2)

Massachusetts (1:12, 1:14, 2:11, 2:16, 3:12, 3:18, 4:10, 4:19)

North Carolina (1:13, 2:15)

Washington, DC (1:16, 2:8, 2:21, 3:14, 3:16, 3:21, 4:16, 4:22, 4:24, 5:1, 5:2, 5:11, 5:18)

Tennessee (1:17, 1:18, 4:5)

Washington State (1:17, 1:20, 1:23, 2:9, 3:8, 3:20)

Montana (1:19)

New York (1:22, 2:4, 2:16, 3:16, 4:3, 4:8, 4:9, 4:15, 4:17, 4:18, 6:10)

Puerto Rico (2:1)

Missouri (2:12)

Nebraska (2:12)

Minnesota (2:13, 3:4)

New Hampshire (2:14, 3:13)

Florida (2:20, 3:5, 4:9, 5:4, 6:13)

Arkansas (2:24)

New Mexico (2:25, 3:1)

West Virginia (3:2, 3:9, 3:10, 4:20)

Oklahoma (3:3)

Ohio (3:6, 3:11, 5:18)

North Dakota (3:16)

Georgia (3:22)

Rhode Island (3:24, 4:1, 4:23)

Michigan (4:4, 5:9)

Illinois (4:6, 4:19)

South Carolina (only Skinner 4:21)

Indiana (5:5)

Maine (5:10)

Delaware (5:16, 5:18)

Arizona (6:1)

Nevada (6:2, 6:4, 6:5)

Kansas (6:8)

Places Outside the US:

Norway (2:19)

Hong Kong (3:15)

Canada (Alberta - 4:1, 4:9; Yukon - 4:24)

Russia (4:8; 4:9)

Antarctica (FtF)

Sargasso Sea (6:3)

[crepus]

what the fuck

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: News Crashing

Poly!TaskForce 141 x Omega!Reader

The Omega Pack Plan Masterlist

Summary: A change in procedure around base causes you to spiral as your world comes crashing down. There's only one way out of this and it starts with telling the truth.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Existentialism, Misogyny, Dismissive Attitudes, Angst, Rage

Mentions of: Medication,

A/N: Honestly, I'd been inspired by a few series (Standard Emergency Protocol and Pantry Solutions) I've read those and it caused me to want to write my own ABO COD AU, so I started this as a sort of funny fic awhile ago. I'm haven't entirely plotted out the whole story, but I have some ideas for the first few chapters. I was finally inspired to finish and post it because @cringeycookies liked the snippet I posted in a wip tag game. So thanks to everyone who inspired me, and a special thank you to @penelopepine for helping me with the dialogue and Price's reaction as I try to begin writing for them.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the nurse responds, "we're no longer authorized to refill suppressants of any kinds for any purpose." With a push of the empty orange pill bottle back across the counter in your direction, she offers you an ugly forced smile.

"Is there really nothing we can do?!" You complain incredulously, "Nothing at all? What am I supposed to do with this?!" Taking the emptied bottle into your hands, you stare at the nurse with widened eyes and a wild look.

"There is no 'we'..." she rolls her eyes in response, focus returning to the papers before her. "But if you insist, you can always bring it up with your CO, or the Base Commander." She scribbles something out on the page, but you can hardly focus when your world is virtually crumbling apart around you. "Now if you don't mind, some of us actually have work to do around here."

Still stunned, you can't help the way your breathing picks up as your heart begins to race. About a month ago now there was a base-wide meeting where they'd finally cracked down and implemented a new program the government is trying out: OPP. The Omega Pack Plan. While it's uncommon for Omegas to even be recruited into the military to begin with, such a thing does exist. Regardless, the Base Commander gathered everyone in the Auditorium for a presentation to talk about the new program and how the army would implement it into the troops. Luckily, considering you're on an elite Task Force, it doesn't apply to you. At least... it didn't.

"What the hell is this?!" You yell, tossing the orange bottle in his direction.

He'd heard the stomps all the way down the hall and smelled you coming, so he's neither surprised by your appearance, nor startled by the toss of the bottle. John swiftly catches it in his hand as he looks up at you. "What?" He inquires, finally glancing down to examine what he's caught. "A pill bottle?"

"Captain, it's empty! They won't refill it- I can-"

A groan tumbles past his lips as he drags a hand down his beard. "Look, Panther-" referring to you by your callsign, interesting move. "There's nothing I can do, it's over my head now. I wish I could do something, but I can't." Sitting back in his leather chair, Price places the bottle on the desk; a faint rap of the plastic hitting the wood is the only sound between you momentarily before you hurriedly shut the door.

Panic begins to flood your system as you're not sure how to handle this. It's your turn to freak out. You know how this goes, you know the story now; ever since they'd implemented and dispersed the Omegas into the troops, they'd started implementing them into the Task Forces, and now they have to do so with the One Four One. Fingers curling in and out of shapes as you try to process your next move, you speak before you can even begin to plan what you're going to tell him.

"I- I'm- I..." You're pacing his office now, the heavy gaze of your Captain upon you as you try to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. The thing is, you're usually good with pressure- really good. It's your job to be good. It's just... this is different. This is your life, your livelihood at stake, the livelihood of all your future generations to come.

A sigh resounds throughout the office before you hear the low timbre of his voice. "Dove," he calls out with a gentle tone, "I want you to take a deep breath for me. Alright?" With the calm and even sound of your Captain's voice and the assured look on his face, you comply. Exhaling the last of your breath, you close your eyes and focus in on the deep intake of air through your nose. With the parting of your lips you slowly release it before giving yourself a moment.

When you open your eyes he gestures to the seat before his desk, though you know he won't take offense if you decline. Hesitant, one hand finds its way to the other, wrapping around your arm as you listen to him speak. "Now, can you explain what has you in this state? I assure you that there's nothing that can't be dealt with." You want to trust him, you know him--John Price--your Captain. He's always had your back, always made sure you felt comfortable in the Taskforce, always made an effort to check on you after things got rough.

You nod. Licking your lips, you search his blue eyes as you tentatively take the seat across him.

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, alright? I can guarantee you that unless you're trying to tell me you're an Omega, nothing you say is going to shock me that warrants the amount of panic you're putting yourself through," Price chuckles. He's obviously joking, trying to break the tension with humor. Lips drawn upward into a small smile, the Captain stares at you expectantly.

"What if I am?" You whisper, eyes unable to tear from his visage as you try and gauge his reaction. Unexpectedly, silence fills the space between you and feels deafening in the small space. The growing comfort of his office these couple of months now feels like a cage you're forced to stay in, under watch, as you stare down your superior on the brink of a battle to the death. And that's what you do. His blue eyes bore into yours, skeptically shifting between your left and right as he seems to try and get a read on you.

All of the sudden you jump at the smack of his hands hitting the desk in front of him. He laughs at you.

He's laughing at you.

And you're sitting there with your guts spilled out, dread eating away at the pit in your stomach... and he's laughing. It feels like forever is passing you by as you stare at him in shock, this moment between the two of you frozen in time as nothing else persists.

"I understand what this was now," Price explains, still chuckling to himself as he shakes his head. There's a warm smile on his face that feels eerie considering the dire context of the situation at hand. "You got me! I fully believed you for a second there, too."

Eyebrows furrowing in dark realization, you can't help but stare at him wildly. "Wha-" You begin to question him and his line of thinking, but he cuts you off.

"This was all a prank, right? The bottle, the hysterics- you really outdid yourself, Sergeant." Leaning back in his chair, he props his ankle up on his other knee. "Because let me tell you, this was good. Better than anything Soap's cooked up in awhile. Did you come up with it yourself?" There's a cheeky grin on his lips. "Ah, I know you did."

Lips opening and closing like a fish out of water, you sit in the armchair across from him pale with a dazed look across your face. He doesn't actually think that this was...

"Well, with your little triumph in your pocket, I say we get back to work, yeah? I've got some new leads from MI6 that've just popped in." With that, the man stands from his desk and rounds it. "Garrick should be back around Tea. I'll see you in the Command Station then," he informs you. It's then that he passes by, a genial clap on your shoulder while he's at it.

Left stunned in silence, you can't help but grit your teeth, consequentially pronouncing your jaw as anger ebbs through your bloodstream. Breath getting heavier, you can't help but loathe the meeting tonight. Your Captain might be satisfied with the conversation, but all you feel is discouraged. He's abandoned you, left you alone in his office with a humiliating sense of betrayal and shattered trust. Almost like you hadn't just told him your biggest secret at all.

Punching the standard heavy punching bag hanging in front of you, you grunt, ignoring the pain that gnaws at your knuckles underneath the reusable hand wraps. Sweat builds on your brow as you continue to unleash your pent up anger on the gym’s equipment. How could he?! When had you ever pulled anything even similar to this? Never! And the fact that you’ve only been on the team for a handful of months only exacerbates the abandonment you’re feeling right now. He’s your Captain! Regardless of your feelings or the situation at hand, isn’t he supposed to be there for you? He’d promised from the get go to help you with whatever you need, and now the one time you go to him for aid it backfires in your face and leaves you without any sort of solution going forward aside from straight up telling the whole team the flat out truth, and God forbid! You can’t even begin to fathom how that’d go.

A pent up and frustrated yell almost akin to something of a growl emanates from you as you tear into another round of swift jabs and punches. Regardless of the situation at hand, you’ve been trying to build up your upper body’s strength and letting out the anger you’d accumulated over this morning’s events seemed like a perfect opportunity to let loose.

The stretches and treadmill routine didn’t take a lot out of you, but the weights, and now the punching bag definitely is starting to take its toll. Sweat beads at your forehead in rivulets that drip down the sides of your neck, down your scalp past your neck and between your shoulder blades. Tank top soaked in sweat, you breathe hard as your heart pumps rapidly in your chest. You would’ve wound up here at some point or another tonight, but the Captain’s discourteous response certainly led to an earlier workout time.

While others sparsely litter the gym’s floor, you pay them no mind and vice versa. It’s not uncommon for soldiers to be found blowing off steam or aiming to beat their highest reps on the weights. Yet, this gym is reserved for higher standing members of the Force, the gym on the far side of the base where there are less people, offices, and considering the regular army men train in the bigger gym closer to their quarters, it’s mostly other higher ranked officers in here.

“Captain’s lookin’ for ya,” Markowski, another Sergeant that you’d come to befriend on base announces from the doorway, having poked his head in after leaving a few minutes earlier. He belongs to a different Task Force.

A groan tumbles out of you as you realize it’s already that time. Just as the door clicks shut, your phone chimes loudly with the alarm you’d set earlier going off. A few quick swipes of your fingers, you turn the alarm off and unlock the device, seeing a number of messages flood your notifications.

Kyle: You hear they’ve bumped up the timeline? 😯

Johnny: “ https://Tiktok/Shattered.Rat567 ” Had me rollin’ 🤣👏🏻 Gotta check it, Bonnie

Simon: You coming to the meeting or not? 🤨

Johnny: Where r u? You’re usually first here 👀 Cap’s getting peeved, watch out

Not looking forward to the inevitable mess of a meeting before you, you don’t bother rushing to join the men. With a wash of your face in the women’s locker room, a speedy bathroom break, and a grab of the items you’d brought with you, you’re heading for the Command Station.

With the time Price set the meeting, you won't get to eat dinner till afterward. You'd be lying if you said you weren't annoyed by this entire situation, your agitation from neglecting your hunger earlier has certainly come to bite you in the backside.

While you don’t have time to respond to their texts, having set the alarm with only enough time to get back to your team’s Command ‘station’ albeit more like your headquarters before heading out. Speed-walking through the orderly halls with a haste perfectly common around here, you navigate with a well practiced knowledge. Though you’ve only been here coming up on six months soon, you’re well acquainted with this part of the base.

Rounding the corner, you’re in the hall, close. Yet, the worry of being late lingers in the back of your mind and adds another layer of annoyance on top of your residual anger buried deep down from this morning’s situation. You’d inevitably come up with your solution. It’s not one you like… but it’s the only logical option. Another turn and you’re striding into the big garage-like room.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sergeant,” Price calls out to you. Lifting his eyes from the map laid out across your station's table, he glares in your direction.

“What took you so long?” Soap snaps, his brows slightly furrowed as he stares at you from the opposite side of the table, hands lazily wrapped around his vest’s straps.

A look at your watch tells you that you’re not even late, the meeting doesn’t officially start for another minute! But you are usually waiting on them. He’s got you there.

“Yeah, you’re usually the first one here. It’s not like you,” Gaz whispers under his breath as you sidle up alongside Ghost, Gaz standing diagonal to you right beside Price at the head of the table.

“Focus,” Ghost orders the men, his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pocket. You don’t fail to notice the way he subtly takes a step further away from you as soon as they start talking again. Price goes back to talking plans as Gaz is questioning the circumstances of the information the Captain had acquired earlier when he’d had to leave the office.

“Which is exactly why-”

A heavy exhale on your behalf leaves the men frozen as their eyes drift back to you. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Panther?” The Captain questions. Jaw clenched, you tear your eyes from the map they’d settled on.

“We’ve got a big problem,” you announce, cutting off the Captain as you finally raise your gaze to meet Price’s slightly widened blue eyes.

“Well, if you see something that needs changin’ then let’s hear it,” he responds. A ‘hmph’ follows as he crosses his arms over his chest and sits his weight back onto his heels.

“It’s not about the op,” you correct him. Tilting your head side to side you attempt to crack the kinks in your neck while standing a little straighter to appear more engaged and serious.

“And it’s more important than this? What we’re doin’ right now?” Soap questions, his hands dropping to rest on the table as he looms over it, eyeing you with frustration obvious in his irises.

“What is it?” Gaz asks, a quirk of his eyebrow garnering your attention for a split-second. He’s genuinely asking, and there doesn’t seem to be a hostility in his scent as he turns his attention to you. Then there’s Ghost, who you don’t even need to look at to feel his heavy gaze on you, waiting expectantly.

“Actually, it is,” you argue with Soap, anger beginning to boil in your belly, the frustration and angst having been left to simmer all afternoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I came to you earlier,” you turn your anger on Price. He looks taken aback by the outburst, something you’re not known for.

“Dove,” he calls calmly, hands out in an attempt to pacify.

“Don’t-” you bark, starting to raise your voice without realizing it. “I came to you in confidance! Trusting you when you said you’d be there to help me if I ever needed it! How could you?” Gritting your teeth, you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing as your chest heaves with anger.

“Woah, woah-” Gaz sputters, “What-” holding his hands out to try and diffuse the argument.

“I let myself be vulnerable-” You continue to shout.

“Isn’t this something that shoul-” Soap attempts to dissuade, backing down as he puts his hands out.

“-and tell you the truth, and-” you’re lunging for him across the table. You’re held back by a massive hand on your shoulder. “You laugh in my face?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You're suddenly pulled back, off your feet, and shoved into a metal chair that'd been nearby. Your Lieutenant is hovering over you, his cold eyes now tinged with a spark of anger as they bore into you scrutinizingly. There's the sound of commotion behind him, multiple voices overlapping, yet you can't see anything with that utter giant in front of you!

“Does anyone wanna explain what the bloody hell is goin’ on here?” Ghost snaps. It's only then when the man steps aside that you can see where everyone is. With both of you in your respective corners, you simply glare at the Captain from over your crossed arms out in front of you.

“Are you bleedin’ kidding me, ya Scally?” Price grunts as he shrugs Gaz’ hand off his shoulder. “You’re still on about it! When w-"

"That doesn't explain what happened, Cap," Gaz interrupts, stopping him from going off and getting them nowhere.

He groans, running a hand over his face once more before composing himself. Everyone waits for an explanation—you too—he’d been the first to speak, and you’re curious to hear what he comes up with. “She came into my office, bloody cryin’, tossing me a pill bottle, muttering about, saying she’s a-”

You don’t dare let him finish, not wanting him to be the one to finally say it, exposing your truth to the team. "Omega. I’m an Omega, ” you finish his sentence. While you’re scared to meet their faces, you take a deep breath and force yourself to do so.

"Christ," Price curses, fingers coming up to pinch the skin between his brows as he hangs his head.

Ghost's stoicism is nothing unordinary, and in fact, is somewhat a comfort considering you'd expected nothing less from him.

Gaz looks stunned for a moment, eyes flitting about the other’s faces before the serious look on his face morphs. Lips slowly drawing upward, you shouldn’t be surprised when he starts laughing. "Yeah right," Garrick teases, "and I'm actually the Prime Minister."

Yet, it's not just him. The uproarious laughter from your right only adds fuel to the already burning flame as the two other Sergeants laugh like idiots. All as if it's some poor joke with no consequences to anyone's life, and yet... it's the truth. At the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. At the end of the day, your life is still in jeopardy and they're treating it like some joke. Unable to form any sort of retort, you simply blink; stuck in a stupor raw, stung, and with a dumb look on your face.

Soap, rounding the table slaps Gaz on the back, his face flushed red from laughing so hard. "Yer makin' my stomach hurt. God," he eggs the other on between his dying chuckles and attempting to catch his breath.

"You're really just gonna stand there and laugh?!" You finally burst. Anger surely must be coming off your scent in waves, but you don't care. Standing from the chair, you don't flinch as Ghost swipes his arm out in front of you in case you were going for the Captain again. There will be no physical altercation on his watch.

"She already pulled this on me earlier, mind you, and now what? You're trying to pull it over on the lads' too, eh?" Price goads you.

"And I was telling the truth! You're the one who said I was joking," you point out. The volume of your voice is lost on you, partially blinded by the fury bleeding out.

"I suppose you never did admit to it being a prank," Price reasons, fingers grazing his beard as he runs them over it repeatedly in thought. "But how do you expect us to believe that when you clearly smell of a Beta?"

"Even on the battlefield, after everything we've been through-" Gaz starts.

"After yer all sweaty from a workout, too. I think we'd notice, Pan," Johnny argues, illuminating a legitimate point of consideration.

"Oh please," you mutter quietly to yourself. Shaking your head, you can't believe they're really all being this daft right now. "Like you have heard of those Scent Spritzers.”

There are various perfumes on the market specifically designed to alter one’s scent. Most use it smell like an Alpha when they’re not, or an Omega when they’re wanting to seduce an Alpha when going out. But Omegas posing as Betas was rarely heard of. You’re more than sure it happens more frequently than people know of, they just haven’t been caught. And in your line of work? It’s scarce. People are thoroughly vetted, but… you’d been on suppressants for a long, long time. And a Beta perfume only perfected your hiding.

“Did you forget we’re Alphas, love? We’d be able to smell you across the room if you were,” Gaz taunts. There’s a puff of his chest that makes his cockiness even more annoying than usual.

"You really want to be an Omega? Dumb yourself down to some weak fragile thing?” Johnny jokes, nudging Gaz’ arm as he shakes his head.

“A doll who can get whoever she wants? Want to be nothing more than good for knockin' up and popping out pups?” Gaz adds on.

“Are you serious right now?” You test, seething under your skin as your hands ball up into fists. “How could you say that?!”

“It’s what people say,” Ghost comments.

“Nobody would want that and you’re out here lying about it,” Johnny pokes.

“We’re only trying to point out the flaws in your little rouse, Pan,” Gaz says, a smile lighting up his features as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"And what if I was lying, hm? Would that change anything you just said to me? How you feel about Omegas?" You scoff.

“This isn’t about your designation,” Price finally speaks. Fingers still weaved into his beard, his blue eyes lift to meet yours. “I see what this is about now, but there's nothin' to worry about, Dove.” Your Captain takes on a softer tone and all of the sudden you feel yourself start to get emotional as a twinge of sadness, of the hurt bleeding through upon understanding makes you feel seen.

“I know it's intimidating, the thought of having your first unmedicated heat, but we have medics here. It's natural. Heats, ruts, we all have them. And, hey... at least you're not an Omega, right?" Whatever relief you’d momentarily experienced sinks back down in your gut with the speed of a rollercoaster drop. It’s as silent as a stakeout, the only sound being people’s breathing. And the lack of yours.

It takes a moment to gather yourself, everyone’s eyes on you with the serious topic change. While sex and the downsides to a designation are something discussed with the boys, you’d often been left out. And to your comfort. "You know what? I can’t do this,” you retort. Backing from the group, you toss your hands up. “I guess you'll just have to wait and see," you bite back. With a whip of your hair over your shoulder, you head for the door.

The room is silent once more as everyone gawks. You’d never reacted in such a manner, had an outburst like that… this is… certainly different, and something they’re not at all used to.

“It’s because they took away her suppressants today,” Price explains. It might not have been something the group should be privileged to know. A private matter, really… but with the way you acted? He felt the men deserve an explanation, at least.

“That makes sense,” Gaz responds quietly, eyes still on the door you’d gone through.

“That’s no excuse,” Johnny counters, arms crossing over his chest with a scowl on his lips.

"Well... that went better than I thought,” Ghost comments with a shrug. “Back to the plan? We can fill her in later.”

[kykyonthemoon]

Moonlit

You're on the mission to approach a target at a banquet, and that's all it takes to drive him crazy.

🌻 Rafayel/Xavier/Zayne x F!Reader See Caleb and Sylus's parts here: Full Moon Tags: R16+, suggestive theme, MDNI, possessive, marking and biting, no established relationship This is a request by Xuanlinhh. A/N: This is my first time trying out something like this for L&D, as I don't usually write fic with suggestive theme. So I'm curious to know how I've done with this fic. Feedbacks are always appreciated. After so many titles, I decided to choose "Moonlit", since the moon represents illusion, fear, hidden things. These are the scenarios where he shows another color of his to you. Thus, in all three scenes, there are moonlight all over the place.

Masterlist

Request a fic

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

Your eyes widened when you saw the dress draped over your cotton blanket. It was long past the ankles, the shoulders were slightly bulging and hanging down to reveal the collarbone. The dress consisted of many layers of pastel pink and purple. In the afternoon sunlight, the sequins and pearls attached to it seemed to shine.

“Does he really want me to wear this?” It was a murmur to yourself. The dress was too exquisite, too expensive, too... much at least in comparison to what you would often put in your wardrobe. You did not need to become a princess, just a normal evening dress to blend in and complete the task assigned to you.

Being ignorant about high society or lavish balls, you had asked Rafayel for help. You never expected him to send you such a gorgeous dress.

Indeed, as he predicted, you became the focus of the party as soon as you arrived there.

Each party guest had a mask. Yours arrived in the same color scheme as the dress and was encrusted with opulent pearls and jewels. You wondered why Rafayel was making you look quite distinct. However, you shouldn't have had any reason to doubt him at all when your target moved toward you on his own initiative.

The target of this mission was a high-class profile from another city. Even though you tried your best to focus on the mission, you still wondered if Rafayel came here, or just his work.

The banquet area was adorned with paintings by Rafayel, so it was hard to look at them and not think about him. Had he made it in yet? Would he abandon you here, trapped in a conversation with a stranger?

Using the skill of pretended intimacy in order to obtain information was something you had learned from your training courses. You put a hand on the target's, smiling and talking as if you were fascinated by him. After getting the information you needed, you made an excuse to leave, but it did not appear like things would finish so simply.

He grabbed your wrist and roughly pulled you back to your seat. You shouted, but the music and laughter drowned you out. You aimed at the middle of his face and was about to throw a punch, only to have an arm wrapped over your shoulder and holding your back.

“It seems like this lady doesn't want to be here anymore.”

You knew right away that voice, and that scent were as familiar as a field of wild roses. You turned around and saw Rafayel standing next to you. His hand held your shoulder to help you stand up. Suddenly your heart was filled with joy to see him.

Your target still refused to let go, but when he realized Rafayel's face was not covered by the mask, he knew that was someone he could not meddle with.

He said something to Rafayel in a foreign language and then walked away. You looked at Rafayel, grateful:

“Rafayel…”

Before you finished speaking, you were tugged out of the banquet room by him.

The quiet garden was awakened by the footsteps of two people. From behind, you couldn't see Rafayel's face, only his broad shoulders covered in a dark-colored tuxedo with sequins. You had the strange impression that he was furious. Perhaps it was his pressure that caused your wrist to get crimson. He guided you through a labyrinth of plants and stone sculptures.

“Rafayel.”

He only stopped when you called his name, but still did not turn to look at you. You stepped forward to observe him. You took a step forward to study him. A frown could be seen plainly on his forehead as his face pouted.

“Rafayel? What's the matter?"

His gaze grew gloomy. His hand holding yours tightened even more as he pulled it up to touch his cheek.

“…”

His abrupt movement confused you. He buried his face in your palm, took in a deep breath and gave you a bite.

“Rafayel!”

You let out a cry of surprise instead of agony since the bite was rather faint. He took advantage of your vulnerability to wrap his arms around you, forcing your body to touch his.

His lips placed on your palm a kiss where it had just been bitten, then slid down to your wrist. You made an unsuccessful attempt to flee. He gave you another glance, or rather studied every strand of lace and fabric of the garment that embraced your upper body.

“I made a terrible mistake sending this dress to you. Too graceful. Too desirable…”

The moon, round like a silver disk overhead, provided the sole light in the labyrinth. Rafayel continued to rub his face on your hand, his face appearing and disappearing in an instant.

“He touched you here…” Rafayel whispered. He kissed your wrist and palm again, fiercely like a storm.

“You… What are you doing?…”

Your heart beat was so incessant. It might have been an overdose of alcohol that caused your arms and legs to feel so weak. Rafayel let go of your hand, just to rub his head on your shoulder. His fingers sank into your hair, causing your mask to fall off. You caught his heavy breathing close to your ear, his breath caressing your uncovered neck and collarbone.

“What about here?”

Rafayel asked, then he bit your neck, causing your body to squirm in agony.

“N-No! Rafayel!”

You tried to push him away, but the more you resisted, the more Rafayel tightened his hold on you. His lips sucked into your ear.

"Here?"

“I… I was just talking to him… That's all!”

"Good." He said, leaving your neck covered in crimson kiss marks. Moist. Burning. Exposed under the moonlight. "You won't be touched by that filthy hand ever again. Not in the slightest... I promise it."

A crazy thought suddenly crossed your mind. You had never seen this side of Rafayel. It frightened you, and also invited you to explore further.

“What... are you going to do?…” You asked in a daze. With your head whirling, you sought to Rafayel's powerful arms for support.

“With him? You shouldn't be worried about that guy. What you should be worried about is the things that will happen to you right now.”

“Rafayel, you—!”

He nipped you on the neck, then planted another kiss where he could hear your nearly deranged heartbeat—deeper beneath your collarbone.

You took deep breaths. Rafayel straightened up and gazed down at you, euphoric in his arms. The bite marks and kiss marks were intertwined like a work of art he had left on you. Similar to the garment you were donning, they served as a reminder to others that you belonged to no one, but him.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

The melodious music led the couples back and forth according to a set pattern. Every step, every movement was perfectly planned. Only eyes were not so easily controlled.

Yes, you had been looking at that man in the white attire ever since the music started and you were escorted to the center. His hair as bright as starlight at night stood out in the ballroom. And no matter where he was, you would find him in a blink. Even with the silver mask covering half of his face.

And, he also looked at you. There was a hint of sorrow and a tinge of rage in his eyes. Did you delude yourself like that? Or was he really looking at you and wishing that the person each of you were guiding through music was the other?

Carelessly, your heel stepped on your partner's foot. You said in embarrassment:

“My apologies… How clumsy I am.”

The man said there was no problem, and you continued dancing. This was the target you must approach for the day's mission. You turned back to face Xavier. He was also leading another person in the dance. Another target.

Due to the importance of this mission, neither you nor Xavier must show any negligence. But in the midst of this lavish masquerade, what you wanted the most was to leap into Xavier's arms. You could dance until dawn, if it was with him.

You forced the stray ideas out of your mind. You needed to focus. Extremely. You turned back to your dance partner, who did not seem to notice anything unusual. You pulled him closer and your hand on his shoulder slid down slightly.

A grin came across his grim mask to greet you. You caught a glimpse of the other side, Xavier's face tightening. Almost at once, his dance partner intentionally fell into his arms.

Fortunately, you had a mask on as well. Otherwise, your unpleasant glance would be visible to everyone in this room, including him.

You leaned your head slightly on your partner's shoulder. But you still kept an eye on Xavier. He was also observing your every move. Every time the other girl became close to Xavier, you did the same thing to your dance partner. This was supposed to be a mission, but it ended up being such a ridiculous competition.

One more dance and you got what you needed from the target. You made up an excuse and sneaked out onto the balcony alone. The starry sky loomed above you, and the aroma of flowers and grass bathed in night dew calmed you down. You removed your mask and set it on the railing. At that moment, a powerful hand was wrapped around your waist and gently squeezed.

You were startled. But immediately, you realized that the hand belonged to Xavier. He was approaching you from behind. He approached you from behind. His breath, which carried the delicate aroma of wine and cinnamon, breathed into your hair, before gradually sliding down the back of your neck, sending you slight trembles.

“Xavier?…What are you doing?…”

The mask he was still wearing tapped against your bare back exposed to the moonlight, causing you to shiver. Gently, Xavier laid kisses on it.

“Xavier!…” Your body was slightly bent, but his hand on your abdomen held you up. His other hand was around your neck, stabilizing you in that posture. A series of hasty kisses covered your back and shoulders. You bit your lip, waiting for him to speak while silently relishing the heated sensation radiating from the places where his lips met.

A little later, the hand holding you eased somewhat. You took that opportunity to turn around to face Xavier.

You could tell, even through the mask, he was hurt. He did not say a word, just looked at you like a puppy abandoned in the rain. You let out a soft sigh, wrapped your arms over his head to remove the mask. You pressed your palm against his cheek.

“Why did you do what you just did…” Your cheeks flushed, and you were certain that your back was now coated with traces of his. Xavier drew you back into his arms, grasping your hips once more.

“This mission…” He paused for a moment. “It's really too much for me.”

“Don't you like it, dancing intimately with such a beautiful girl?”

The scene of him holding someone else in his arms was enough to upset you. But it went both ways to Xavier, who was not able to hold his feelings any longer. To your surprise, he lifted you up and placed you on the railing. You felt guilty for unintentionally triggering Xavier's fury.

"I don't enjoy it one bit." Xavier replied bluntly. “Because, there is only one girl I have my eyes on in this universe and she is right in front of me.” His chilly fingers moved from your hip to your shoulder, then your neck. “I don't want anyone else to touch her.”

Before you could say anything, Xavier clasped your lips in a passionate kiss, sending your head spinning.

“No one else… but me…” Xavier whispered in very short pauses, then buried himself again in your embrace and scorching kisses.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

The high society banquet in Linkon City was truly a remarkable event. You also prepared meticulously for that day, as your latest mission needed you to meet a target at that party.

You had done quite well during the first two hours of the event. You looked graceful in a luxurious, tight-fitting black velvet dress, with long sleeves and a thigh-high slit. You spoke, laughed, drank, and danced with your target, and everything went perfectly until you noticed a familiar figure standing in the corner of the room, observing.

The guests were all wearing masks, and from such a distance, you wondered whether you were wrong. He would dislike such events. But you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched, attentively, by someone you knew well.

After completing the mission, you sneaked out through the path least noticed. Your feet hurt from dancing too much in high heels. So you pulled them off and wandered barefoot across the calm garden at night. The dew-soaked grass made your feet chilly, but it also provided a soothing and delightful feeling.

You sat and settled by the fountain. You removed your mask and threw it on the grass next to the shoes. Your feet had begun to swell. You stretched them out, placed your hands on the fountain, and elevated your face, allowing the silver moonlight to beam down on you as you felt relaxed and relieved after finishing your work for the day.

The sound of shoes treading on the grass jolted you awake. When you opened your eyes, you saw a figure standing between you and the moonlight, clothed in a flawlessly fitting black tuxedo. That was who you had suspected all along.

“Zayne?”

You called his name, and he took off his mask.

“It's really you!” You exclaimed, happy and astonished. "I didn't think you would attend events like this."

Zayne's face hardened, indicating seriousness. He examined you thoroughly, from your somewhat unkempt hair to the garment that clung to your body, displaying your curves and the bare thigh beneath it. He gently leaned down, one knee resting on the grass. His chilly palm touched your ankle, startling you.

“Z-Zayne!”

He gave you a glance, implying that you should remain still. His large thumb brushed over the irritated skin on your leg. Cool and comfy, as if being iced. You knew it was Zayne using his Evol.

“Seeing me here, are you surprised?”

You nodded; all words had vanished once Zayne touched you.

“I was invited. If I hadn't come, I probably wouldn't have caught you doing—"

He left the sentence incomplete without glancing at you.

"Caught me doing what?"

"…Nothing."

He tilted down and focused on rubbing your feet with all the gentleness that made you feel both comfortable and tickled.

“I think… my foot is fine now.”

Despite the fact that Zayne's Evol should have kept you cold, your body began to heat up. You were about to alter your posture to sit up straight, but he grabbed your ankle.It appeared so little in his massive, covered in scars hands.

"Be still." He whispered quietly. "Where do you want to go with feet like this?"

"I… have to go back to HQs to report for today's mission…" You made up an excuse. As soon as you left the banquet room, you sent all of the information to the headquarters.

"Mission? Is that the reason why you were intimate with that guy?”

Zayne gazed into your eyes. His face did not exhibit much expression, but his eyes were perplexing. Could it be that he was uncomfortable when he noticed you being close to someone else at the party?

Having hit the nail on the head, you pushed forward. You slipped your bare foot forward until it reached his chest.

"Maybe. But that man was really interesting. He's a doctor, too. Strangely, I was more interested in speaking with him than with some other doctors I knew."

Zayne's expression worsened. His hand shifted from your ankle to your foot, gripping firmly.

"Don't mess with me."

A giggle escaped your so red lips. “Or else? What would Dr. Zayne do to me?”

Zayne frowned. He gazed at your foot, which was still on his body. He softly stroked it and said:

"You're drunk."

"It seems so." You laughed again. Your toes started moving purposely against Zayne's chest. He grabbed them and to your surprise, he placed a kiss on the middle of your feet.

“Zayne!?”

You were so bewildered that you almost fell into the fountain. Zayne grabbed your leg and swiftly positioned his other hand behind you to support your back. Suddenly being so close to each other sent you a panic attack. You sensed a fresh scent like snow and wood emanating from his body. The sound of your heart beating was so loud that he could hear it clearly without a stethoscope.

He glanced at you for a minute before carefully returning to his former posture. His hand left your body, leaving you a little dissatisfied. As if reading you, he leaned forward again. One hand clutched the base of the fountain, exactly near to your hip, and almost immediately, you heard the sound of the water freezing, followed by silence. His other hand kept your leg tight to his torso. Long fingers caressed your calf and thigh. You trembled at the cold he delivered, but it was promptly followed by a tingling sensation throughout your body.

"Do you really like talking to him more than me?"

Zayne asked quietly. The hand that was sliding down your thigh came to a halt at the end of the dress's slit and then tightened, prompting you to cry out unintentionally.

Seeing your helpless reaction and crimson cheeks, a satisfied smile appeared from the corner of Zayne's mouth.

“I guess what you mean to say is, no.”

"You…"

You could feel Zayne's heat wrapping around your legs, in the place where your skin was exposed to the moonlight, then running all over your body. You sat still so he could continue to draw close, his lips gently brushing the corner of your lips provocatively.

“Now you will have to bear the consequences for teasing me.”

[wholoveseggs]

Hi love,, how about elijah and reader have recently broken up and ready is exploring other options but elijah is still madly in love and gets super jealous? I’m thinking super rough with a touch of angst but mostly anger and jealousy?! (also a lot of kinks) ⋆˚✿˖°

Madness

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You bring a date to the Mikaelson party, specifically to attract the attention of your estranged husband. The plan backfires; he's not the type to let you go so easily and makes sure to remind you that no one will ever take his place.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @spideysbabe & @ashloring! I love writing about Elijah's wild side ♡♡

6.4k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, dom!Elijah, angry sex, rough sex, biting, blood drinking, spanking, jealousy, rim job (f!receiving), anal sex, riding, Elijah being possessive, lots of praise and a little degradation.

You probably shouldn't have brought a date to a Mikaelson party, but considering how you and Elijah ended things, you saw no problem with it. Was it petty? Yes. Was it immature? Also yes. Were you feeling a bit vindicated when you walked in the door and saw the look on Elijah's face? Absolutely.

You found the hottest guy possible on tinder, the kind with zero brains and all brawn. He was the perfect rebound, the type with an inability to commit to anyone, let alone you, but that's not what you wanted from him anyway. All you wanted was to make your ex jealous, and judging by the glare he shot at your date, it was working.

To the undiscerning eye, Elijah appeared to be the picture of composure, greeting the guests in one of his favorite suits. But you knew him better than that, and you could see the twitch in his jaw, the slight tension in his shoulders. And judging by the way he was avoiding your gaze, he was pissed.

When he was pissed, specifically at you, he would usually get you alone and give you a proper dressing down, and it always turned you on, a lot. The first time you'd fucked after a fight, it had taken you both by surprise. His usual gentle nature had given way to a possessiveness that made you see stars, and ever since, you'd been chasing the feeling.

You didn't really have a plan, a part of you wanted to do the healthy thing and move on, but there was another part of you, a part that was addicted to Elijah,that just wanted him back, it had been that way for so long you could barely remember a time before him. You were still mad at him, though, so you decided the best thing to do would be to try to make him jealous.

Your date wasn't going to last past tonight, you knew that, but he was the perfect prop for your little game. You knew Elijah would find you, you just needed to set the stage, so you pulled the big dumb beefcake to the dance floor.

He was a terrible dancer, but you didn't care, it wasn't about him. You already caught him flirting with several other women in the short amount of time you'd been here, but you couldn't be bothered. As long as he showed up on your arm, and looked hot while doing it, that's all that mattered.

"That asshole in the suit has been staring at us this whole time, and he doesn't seem too happy," your date said, trying to whisper, but it came out much too loud. You'd chosen him specifically because of that, you liked the way people looked at the two of you.

"Don't worry about him," you replied, pressing yourself against his body a little closer. "He's an ex. A controlling ex."

"He looks a little old for you, what is he like? 35?" Your date asked, looking directly at Elijah. 

You stifled a laugh, "close enough, I guess." 

"How long were you together? He's still giving me death eyes," he whispered, not subtly.

"A while," you shrugged, "but that doesn't matter anymore." You leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I'm yours for the night."

You'd hoped he'd get the hint, but apparently it took a lot of hints for him to understand that you were looking for sex, and not anything else.

"Why'd you break up? He's obviously still hung up on you." The music changed, and he was still talking. "Did he cheat on you? I know a lot of guys who do that."

"No, nothing like that," you answered, your annoyance growing, "he's just a selfish asshole who likes to masquerade about his morals." You weren't entirely lying, you were pretty sure Elijah's ego was the driving force behind his recent decisions. "Plus he has a tiny cock," you added, for good measure.

Your date laughed, and you had to laugh along, you could feel Elijah's glaze burning into you. You glanced his way and his eyes met yours, and you had to resist the urge to blush under his gaze. His eyebrows were raised, a twinkle of amusement and anger in his eyes. You could practically hear him telling you that wasn't funny, that you were acting like a child.

Elijah always hated when you acted out. It was like he wanted you to be some sort of prim and proper lady, which you were for the most part. But every now and then, you felt the urge to be bad, and you enjoyed pushing his buttons.

"Get me a drink?" You asked your date, batting your eyelashes and giving him a wide smile.

"Of course," he replied, before heading off to the bar.

You went to a nearby table and leaned against it, trying to appear casual. You felt Elijah's presence behind you, and your stomach twisted in anticipation.

"Do you think I don't know what you're doing?" He asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Whatever do you mean?" You asked, pretending to be coy.

"This boy isn't going to last past tonight, so why did you invite him here?" He asked, leaning forward, his lips almost touching your ear.

"I don't know, I thought he might be fun," you shrugged, playing innocent. "I didn't realize I wasn't allowed to date other people," you added, knowing it would infuriate him.

"You are allowed to do whatever you want, but there will always be consequences," he replied, his voice low. "And your boy is getting a bit too friendly with my sister, don't you think?"

You glanced over, and sure enough, your date was chatting up Rebekah. Poor guy had no idea that Rebekah could eat him alive.

"I think Rebekah can handle herself," you said, looking away.

"You're not upset? You don't seem particularly attached to him," he asked, his fingers lightly brushing against your elbow.

"Worried that someone else has claimed my heart?" You asked, turning around to face him, a teasing smile on your lips.

"No, because I know it will always belong to me," he replied, a smirk on his face, a knowing look in his eyes. He always knew how to disarm you, and piss you off.

"I'm not yours, I think I made that very fucking clear," you snapped, your smile fading. The pain of your breakup was still fresh, and his arrogant attitude only fueled the fire.

"We both know that's not true," he said, stepping closer. "Even if we're not together, you're still mine."

"You are such an arrogant prick," you huffed, trying not to show how much his words affected you. You wanted to hate him, and sometimes you could, but in moments like this, your feelings for him overwhelmed you.

"If you think insulting me will erase how you feel for me, then you are deluded," he scoffed, before grabbing the back of your head, forcing you to meet his gaze.

He paused for a moment, taking in the fire in your eyes, the defiance that turned him on. He loved the struggle, it always led to the sweetest surrender with you.

"Did he fuck you yet?" He asked, his lips dangerously close to yours.

"That's none of your business," you snapped, pulling your head out of his grip.

Your date returned with the drinks before you could say anything, placing one in your hands.

"Here, honey. I got you a dirty martini," he said, before glancing at Elijah. "Get your own girl, mate, this one's mine," he added, wrapping an arm around your waist.

The blood boiled in Elijah's veins and he resisted the urge to grab this stupid boy by his head and slam it onto the table. Instead he gave him a deadly glare, smiling when the poor fool flinched slightly.

"You are aware that you are in my home with your arm around my wife," he said, his voice deceptively calm. He could feel you watching him, waiting for his reaction, and he was determined not to give you the satisfaction. Not yet, anyway. 

"Your wife?" The boy sputtered, loosening his grip on you. "I didn't realize...I..."

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that he was letting Elijah intimidate him. You see Elijah's self-satisfied grin and it pisses you off.

"Don't mind him," you said, patting your date's chest. "He's just a control freak who's a bit threatened by younger men." You looked up at him, giving him a teasing smile. You knew you were poking the bear, but you couldn't help it, Elijah was making you feel things, and you were determined not to let him win.

Elijah leaned in close, his pupils dilating as he compelled him. "Sit and be quiet," he commanded, and the boy obeyed without question.

"What did you do that for?" You hissed, slapping him on the shoulder. "He didn't do anything to deserve that." The truth was, he wasn't doing much for you, but he didn't need to know that.

"There, now we can continue our conversation," Elijah said, ignoring your protest. "Now, answer my question. Did you fuck him yet?" He asked, his tone serious. His hand was resting on your hip, his grip firm. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it was driving you crazy.

"You didn't have to do that," you said, trying to remain unaffected by the whole exchange.

"It was either that or kill him," he shrugged.

"Well, now you're being a bit dramatic," you scoffed. You were determined to maintain the upper hand, despite the fact that he was getting under your skin. "He's an idiot, but he didn't deserve to die."

Rebekah had noticed the two of you standing there, and she headed over. She knew about your recent fight, and the reason for it. She also knew that the two of you were a disaster when it came to communicating, so she did what she did best and interfered. 

"Well, well, what is this?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Just a friendly conversation, dear sister," Elijah replied, his voice tight.

Rebekah looked down at the dazed man sitting between them, and then back up to the two of you. "Doesn't seem very friendly."

"Your brother is a possessive asshole, who thinks he owns me," you said, glaring at him. 

"Your sister in law is acting like a child, trying to provoke me," Elijah replied, matching your glare.

Rebekah looked back and forth between the two of you, before shaking her head. "You two are exhausting," she sighed, "I think it's time for your date to leave, fix him, and send him home," she added, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Elijah sighed and looked down at your date, "stand up," he commanded, watching as the man did as he was told. "You will leave and forget that my wife even exists," 

"Elijah! You can't make someone forget me!" You said, outraged. Your plan was backfiring. You were supposed to piss him off and make him jealous, not the other way around. 

Before Elijah could respond Rebekah grabbed the both of you by the arm and led you upstairs, into an empty bedroom.

"The two of you are being ridiculous. Acting like children and making a scene. This party was supposed to be a nice, relaxing evening. We are not in a fucking reality show," she scolded, her face turning red with anger. "Now, you are going to work this out, so I don't have to witness this bullshit anymore."

She slammed the door before either of you could respond. You turned to look at Elijah, and for a moment, the two of you were silent, the air filled with tension.

"Y/n," Elijah started, reaching out for your hand, but you pulled it away.

"I'm not doing this with you right now," you replied, moving towards the door, but Elijah blocked your way.

"Move," you ordered, glaring at him.

"No, not until you talk to me," he said, his jaw clenching.

"Or what? You'll compel me to stay?" You scoffed.

Elijah's expression changed to anger, taking a step forward and backing you up against the wall.

"You know that I would never do that," he growled, his voice low.

"You compelled my date, Elijah, and that was pretty low, even for you," you retorted, your hands coming up to push on his chest.

"That man was an absolute bore," he responded, a slight grin on his face.

"That doesn't make what you did okay, Elijah!" You shouted, frustration bubbling inside you.

"Don't pretend like you care, this isn't about him," he laughed. He knew what you were trying to do, and you hated that. "You brought him here because you want to provoke me," he continued, "you want to punish me."

"Maybe," you sighed, looking away, the heat between the two of you simmering. "Look, we just keep having the same fight," you finally said after a moment, still refusing to make eye contact. "We're never going to agree on this."

"We've overcome much worse in our time together," he countered, reaching out to cup your cheek, turning your head back towards him. "We are meant to be together. I know it, and you know it.

"Then why do you keep doing this to me, to us?" You whispered, barely audible. "You let Klaus use you over and over again, and it always ends badly. Why can't you just be satisfied with what we have?" You were trying hard not to cry, your emotions a messy jumble of pain, love and anger.

"My brother can be very persuasive, he's had over a thousand years to work on that," he explained, his thumb wiping away a tear that had slipped out. "He needs someone to believe in him, to fight for him, and it seems no one other than me is capable of that, or wants to even try."

You had heard this all before, the endless excuses, the justifications. "Don't you think its time he figured his own shit out and stop using you for it?" You snapped, losing your patience again. "He treats you like a means to an end, Elijah, and that has to hurt. I see how it hurts you, and it pains me to see you like this."

"What you are doing, fucking some nameless wretch just to piss me off, that hurts far more than Klaus," Elijah growled, his face inches from yours.

You opened your mouth to argue, but his lips crashed down onto yours, stealing your breath from you. You tried to resist him, but it was impossible. His kiss was intoxicating and you melted against him. Your hands tangled in his hair as you tugged him closer. He groaned and you pulled away, pushing against his chest, hard. He stumbled back a bit, a look of surprise on his face. He blinked, confused and you moved toward the door once again. 

He grabbed your wrist, stopping you and pulling you to him. His lips were on yours in an instant, claiming you, dominating you. There was no point in fighting it, you were his, and you both knew it. 

 He moved to your throat and your head tipped back as he gently sucked and nipped at the delicate skin there. A small moan escaped your lips and your knees felt weak, a wet heat spreading between your thighs.

Your free hand wrapped in his tie and pulled him back to your lips. The kiss was raw and needy, and it awakened a fierce hunger inside both of you. Elijah let go of your hand and roughly grabbed your hips, lifting you up, slamming you into the wall. The force knocked the wind out of you but it wasn't enough to make you stop.

"Eli," you said with a bit more urgency, knowing that neither of you could keep it up much longer before you took things much, much further. "I - I can't, we shouldn't..." You tried to argue, but your body was betraying you, and his touches were setting your skin aflame.

Elijah released your hand and tugged at the hem of your dress, pulling it up to your hip. His hand dipped between your thighs, finding the soft, soaked lace of your underwear, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Liar," he whispered into your ear.

It wasn't like you had no control. If you wanted him to stop, all you had to do is say no and you knew Elijah would, but that's not what you really wanted. All your anger and frustration was dissolving into pure lust.

Elijah moved your panties aside, gently stroking his fingertips along your wet slit, slowly dragging the pad of his middle finger around your clit before dipping into your core. He watched the desire on your face as he pushed two fingers inside you and his eyes darkened at how wet you were for him.

"You're such a greedy little thing," he groaned into your ear, pumping his fingers deeper, "always so wet for me."

His fingers pumped faster and harder, his mouth finding yours, muffling your moans. When his thumb started massaging your clit, that was all it took. You shuddered as an orgasm rolled through you and you clutched at his shoulders to stay upright.

Elijah could feel you tremble and shake beneath him as waves of ecstasy washed over you. He chuckled softly, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your cunt. He slid the digits into your mouth, making you gag as they touched the back of your throat. You could taste the tang of your juices on them.

Elijah removed his fingers and you inhaled deeply, swallowing hard to clear the tickling in your throat.

"So beautiful when you come undone," he muttered, bringing you even closer, crushing you into his body. "I've missed hearing my name tumble from those sinful lips of yours."

You felt the blush creep into your cheeks and you buried your head into his neck.

"Elijah, this isn't us getting back together," you breathed into him. "This is sex," you clarified, even as your heart tightened in your chest. "Can you live with that?"

You could feel his smile on his lips.

"Can you?" he shot back.

His hand was resting on the curve of your bottom and he suddenly gripped it, his nails digging into your flesh. His fangs grazed the sensitive skin of your neck before sinking into your vein, and the sting was the best type of pleasure.

A small cry escaped your lips. With each pull of blood he was drinking more, sucking deeper, making it harder to breathe. You grabbed his biceps, clinging to him, the mix of intense pleasure and pain muddling your thoughts.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he finished drinking his fill and began licking the wound, a gentle groan escaping his lips.

"You've been mine for eight hundred years, do you think I would just give you up so easily?" He whispered, his breath tickling your neck. "If all we have to settle for is sex, then I will take it."

He lifted up his arm and offered you his wrist, without a second thought you sank your fangs into him, a rich taste filling your mouth. You drank deeply from his veins, and he held you close, watching your eyes darken and veins ripple around them. 

He smiled and pushed your hair behind your ears, running his thumbs over your cheekbones. You wanted him badly, and as your gaze focused on him, a thrill went through your body. His hair was disheveled, his lips slick with the remnants of your blood, his eyes dark with arousal. He looked dangerous and sexy and so incredibly delicious. You needed more of him.

He set you down, letting your feet touch the floor, his hand tangled in your hair. Your gaze dropped to the erection straining against his tailored slacks. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, but even when he was this worked up, he would never ask, always the gentleman.

You didn't want the gentleman though, it reminded you too much of the love the two of you once shared. No, tonight you wanted the possessive, rough, jealous vampire. The one he hid behind his red door and only let you see. You liked when he was ruthless.

You sank to your knees before him and he loosened his hold on your hair. With one hand, you grabbed his hip, while your other hand deftly unbuttoned his slacks. As you lowered the zipper, your breath brushed over the straining silk boxers, and you could hear him let out a soft growl.

You paused before freeing his cock, leaning in, placing a light kiss on the hard fabric and felt his muscles go tight. You were going to tease him, never quite giving him what he wanted, until he took charge. You needed that rough touch, the kind that could shatter the windows and break bones. The kind of touch you secretly longed for.

You pulled his boxer briefs down just a little, running the pad of your thumb down the underside of his length, before blowing cool air over him and making him twitch. Keeping your eyes on him, you leaned forward again, this time letting your tongue lick across the tip, cleaning his pre-cum from it.

His hands were in your hair, more forcefully now. You continued the teasing, until his grip was painfully tight, you could see the gentleman leaving him. It excited you more than you ever wanted to admit, even to yourself. You knew it wouldn't be much longer before he was ruining you.

Taking his thick girth into your hand, you moved your tongue to swirl around the tip. This time his response was not so reserved, a low, deep sound emitting from his chest.

You sucked lightly on the head, hollowing your cheeks and slowly stroking him in time with your movements. You purposefully kept him from feeling the full effect of your mouth. He was losing the battle over his restraint.

One of his hands cupped your chin, making you look up at him. There was a wild look in his eyes, his breathing ragged. He was trying not to let you push him, he wanted to have slow, passionate sex, make you want to come home and be with him again.

But tonight was not the night for that.

You fought your gaze, fluttering your lashes at him coyly. You saw it on his face, a war being waged. Only you could do this to him, undo his defenses, strip him bare.

"You wish to be treated like a whore," he said quietly, his words sounding almost bitter, though his voice had a strange timbre to it, a hint of excitement.

You tried to nod, your mouth still full of his cock, and his grip on your hair tightened, keeping you in place. He sighed, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone, an odd tenderness.

"Whatever my love wants," he murmured, sounding as if it hurt to say those words. He shoved himself deeper, not stopping when you started to cough, drool slipping down the corners of your mouth. He was so big, his size always overwhelmed you and made tears prickle your eyes.

You worked to breathe, knowing he was not going to be gentle this time. One of his hands left you and pressed into the wall, anchoring himself as he started to fuck your face with a bruising pace.

"Is this how you want to be treated? Letting me fuck your throat raw," Elijah hissed, his cock hitting the back of your throat and you gagged, saliva spilling over and down your chin. "I guess I don't have to hear your snide remarks now, do I?"

You didn't know what you expected, but this was exactly what you had been hoping for. He pulled on your hair hard, pressed your face into his hip, the hairs there making you twitch and your nostrils burn. Your hands gripped his thighs, trying to push him back as you struggled to breathe. You could only make rasping noises, your eyes tearing up, droplets pooling before they spilled.

He pulled you off, allowing you to breathe. Your chest was heaving, a long string of saliva hanging between his cock and your mouth. You kept his eye contact, your lips swollen and slick.

"Good," he murmured. "I'm glad you can finally understand that no other man will ever own you the way I do."

"You don't own me," you rasped out and the fire in his gaze burned.

The words were barely out of your mouth when he threw you onto the bed, the force making your head spin. He tore at the top of your dress, sending bits of fabric flying everywhere. You lay there panting, his eyes hungrily devouring every inch of your half naked form.

"Spread your legs," he commanded, not moving towards the bed, watching intently, waiting for you to comply.

"No," you responded, holding his stare, defiance flashing in your eyes.

His shirt was missing several buttons now, torn open to reveal the toned planes of his stomach and chest. In an instant he was on the bed, his hands grabbing your hips and pulling you underneath him. A slight grin playing on his lips.

"Do you think I don't see what game you are playing? If you want the monster, you've got him, darling," he whispered before capturing your mouth in a rough kiss.

His hands reached up, taking the cups of your bra down. When his fingers closed over your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh roughly, you couldn't contain your gasping cry, his thumbs pinching your nipples painfully.

"Tell me, did your little date fuck you like I do?" He growled against your chest.

You whimpered, twisting in his grasp, but his strength was no match for you, you could already see it in the flexing of his muscles. He bit down hard on your nipple, the shock of pain making you choke. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue swiping over the hardened peak soothingly, but his teeth held on tightly, biting at your sensitive skin.

"Answer me," Elijah demanded, raising his head to lock his gaze with yours.

"E-e-e-e," you stammered, struggling to speak as his hands moved to your hair, roughly twisting the strands together and pulling, tugging your head back.

"E-e-e-e?" He mocked, kissing a trail over the curve of your jaw, ending at your lips, teasing the flesh with his teeth.

"Fuck you," you breathed, anger spiking through the lust clouding your mind.

He flipped you over abruptly, slapping your ass. You struggled to get away, but his hands were pressed into your back, not allowing you to move.

"Did he," another smack landed on your bare skin and the stinging ache made you gasp.

"Fuck you?" Two more blows, this time to your opposite cheek and you clenched the bed sheets tightly.

He pushed your panties down, grabbing your hips and tilting your bottom towards him, spreading your legs, revealing your wet core. You moaned, the need growing and making your toes curl, desperate to be taken.

"Hmm," he mused, tracing his thumb down the seam of your pussy. You moaned into the covers, your head burrowed between your arms, your hands making fists in the sheet. He parted your swollen lower lips and let out a shaky breath when your arousal coated the pads of his digits. He moves his thumb to your ass, teasing your opening and you feel more heat spreading across your cheeks as you squirm in protest, whimpering.

He chucked, slapping your left butt cheek playfully. "You've no right to blush," he mused, leaning down and running the tip of his tongue along the crack, before blowing a small puff of cool air on you and the tickling sensation sent shivers down your spine.

"I bet he couldn't satisfy you the way I do. Even as he tried ...you were thinking of me."

You froze, caught off guard, and then your teeth were clenched and you tried to break from his grasp again. He was being such a damn cocky asshole, always believing himself superior. Your pride bristled under his comments, anger starting to well within. You began to protest and fight when suddenly he pressed his thumb against your puckered entrance, the digit sinking into the knuckle, making you mewl into the mattress.

"Don't..." your voice trailed off, losing your thoughts as your hips rocked trying to grind yourself against his hand.

"I will use you however I see fit," he said with a chuckle, biting into the flesh of your ass. "Don't pretend you don't like the depravity."

His words were spoken so low, so ragged. It was like his entire demeanor had changed, the door cracked open and the monster was breaking through. He roughly spread the globe of your ass with his free hand, and ran his tongue along the seam of your hole before flicking his tongue against the pucker. He continued teasing your rim, making it even more slippery with his spit and you relaxed into his touch.

He lined the tip of his cock with your ass, pressing lightly against it and your nails raked across the sheets, gasping as he moved slightly inside. You arched and wiggled your butt trying to move, make him work for this, even though your body craved everything he offered. He grabbed your wrists and forced your arms above your head, holding them there. You heard his heavy breathing as he thrust his hips forward, his cock sliding past the ring of muscles and sinking into your depths.

 Your face was pressed into the pillow, and you couldn't contain the lewd groaning escaping from your lips when he sunk his cock into your ass and stretched you.

"Too much...ahhh," you mewled, turning your head to take a large gulp of air, the feeling was too much as he slowly rocked into your body. You could barely catch your breath. He wasn't even fully inside.

"no, don't, too much; none of those sound like our safe word," Elijah taunted, his lips hovering over your ear, his words coming out in short panted breaths. He pulled out before plunging deeper, you could hear him sucking in air through his gritted teeth, struggling to hold back and enjoy the torturous pace.

The sweet ache of having him there, the burn as your body struggled to adjust, made your head swim. You felt light headed, overwhelmed. He chuckled and began rocking slowly, the soft roll of his hips letting you feel every inch. His strokes were leisurely, no rushing, drawing out the torment. His fingertips traced down your spine, his palm rubbing a slow circle on your back, soothing the tension.

"Such a good girl," he purred, "taking everything I have to give you."

The pace of his strokes increased, becoming hard and relentless, shoving you into the bed. You bit down into the mattress trying to stifle your sounds as the mix of pleasure and pain became so intense you could only scream.

Suddenly, his hands were in your hair again. He tugged you back harshly, pulling you upright, your back now flush with his front, his cock pistoning into your ass so hard your teeth nearly rattled.

"Let them hear," Elijah whispered into your ear. "Tell everyone here who fucks you best."

His name tumbled out of your lips over and over as the pressure built, tears rolling down your cheeks. You were babbling his name, half sentences, moans, a bunch of nonsense. He was forcing another orgasm to the surface.

Just before you tumbled over the edge, he bit down into your neck and everything turned bright white and sparks flared behind your eyelids. When he stopped drinking your blood, he pushed you back down and pulled out.

You lay there trying to catch your breath before he sat you up, scooting you closer to the edge of the bed, draping your legs over his shoulders. His cock was in your pussy before you could even inhale and then you were screaming his name again.

"Good girl," he groaned, as his hands gripped your hips, bruises blossoming in the dips of your flesh. He didn't slow this time, instead, he shoved the both of you backwards and fucked you into the bed. "Is this what you wanted? Hard, messy, raw." He lifted you and placed you on his lap.

Your head fell into the crook of his neck, too far gone to keep yourself up. His hands were on your ass, lifting you up and down. You clung to him, your fingers tangled in his hair, overwhelmed by the feeling of him using you, taking everything you had. He felt too good, even like this. He knew your body better than you did.

His hand hit your ass, a loud cracking noise filling the room.

"Don't go limp," he snarled, wrapping your hair around his fist and twisting, wrenching your head back and up so that your eyes were forced to meet his. His face was so close, your breath mixed with his.

Your breathing was rapid and shallow, your chest rising and falling. He took one of his hands and intertwined your fingers together, holding you closer. There were no words exchanged, but the intimacy of the gesture made you start to cry. It was too sweet. You tried to squirm out of his grasp and escape this sudden, unbidden vulnerability that seemed to be taking over, but he tightened his hold, moving your hips slowly on his lap. The man was insatiable.

"Don't run from it," he whispered, his lips capturing yours, kissing you with such gentleness, you ached. This was supposed to be rougher, you shouldn't have fallen apart like this, given in, surrendered yourself to this part of him. But now...you couldn't bring yourself to turn away.

A wave of ecstasy was washing over you, the kind of blissful peace you had never felt anywhere but here, wrapped in Elijah's arms, him buried deep in your core, the two of you close, lost in the heat of a passion and connection.

"I want you here with me," his mouth hovered near yours, his hips working harder and harder. "You are my home," his words made your heart squeeze tight and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes. It had been a very long time since he had said such tender words to you. But it was the most desperate pleas, the broken whines that followed that you couldn't ignore.

Your arms closed around him, clinging to him. As if he were your anchor in this chaos. Your mind swam, the lines blurring. This moment was just the two of you, lost in the sensations. A single moment in the midst of the madness. He held onto you tightly, whispering words of praise and affection. The tension built until it snapped, leaving the both of you spent and exhausted.

His mouth was on yours again, swallowing your gasps as you both came down. You lay there for a few moments, your eyes closed, the sound of your hearts pounding loudly in the quiet. You couldn't remember the last time sex was this good. You felt so content and boneless.

You were so lost in the haze of afterglow, it wasn't until Elijah was helping you into a bath that you realized how much time had passed. The warm water lapped against your skin as he settled you onto his lap, his hand trailing up and down your arm. You rested your head against his shoulder, enjoying the peaceful quiet, his warmth surrounding you, his scent, the feel of his bare skin under your fingertips, the brush of his chest hair.

You weren't sure what to say, didn't know how to break the silence. It was like the past few months had not existed. But the pain, the agony, the heartache were fresh. You weren't sure if you were ready to forgive him yet, but it was a step in the right direction.

"Will you stay?" Elijah asked, breaking the silence. His hand paused, fingers splayed on your thigh. He shifted you, turning you so you were facing him. His face was solemn, his brow furrowed and eyes serious. He brought his hand up, cupping your face, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone. He waited patiently for an answer. His expression hopeful, but guarded. The question was simple enough, but it meant so much more.

"I will stay," you whispered, leaning into his touch. You couldn't deny it, he was a part of you, you would always love him. No matter how much you hated him at times, there was no life without him. He was your home. It would take time to rebuild the trust between the two of you, but you had to believe it was possible.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. His head dipped forward, his forehead pressed against yours, the two of you breathing each other's air.

"Good, because I would have done a lot of things I am not proud of, to get you back," Elijah whispered, his thumb swiping along your bottom lip.

Your brow shot up, and a playful smile crossed your face, "What kind of things?" You teased.

Elijah let out a sigh and pulled you closer, "Kidnap, murder, perhaps a bit of torture." His mouth brushed over yours, a quick chaste kiss.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Sounds healthy," you quipped.

"It was, I assure you." He replied, his lips brushing against yours. His tongue slid into your mouth, a deep, languid kiss, a slow exploration of every inch. He pulled back, his eyes boring into yours, the heat and intensity making your stomach flutter. "What is love, if not madness." He finished, his mouth crashing down on yours again.

You didn't have a response, all the air was sucked from your lungs and the ability to speak vanished. Instead, you simply kissed him, hoping he understood. That the two of you were a beautiful mess of chaos, but it worked. It was real. This was love.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡

[trippinsorrows]

through your eyes + au 2

authors: well....this is happening. don't ask. we're just going with it. gotta read part one before consuming this.

don't know who's interested, so only tagging the people i know have read and would be okay with a tag!

taglist: @sayyestoheav3nn @fearlesschimera @annfg8 @zoeyybellex3 @cyberdejos2

Solana never expected to see Roman Reigns again. Not in person, at least. That up close, especially.

It was a one off. A fluke. An anomaly. Her happenstance literal run-in with quite literally the most dangerous man in their world was just one of those things she'd never forget but nothing beyond that.

She could never forget his intense gaze on her, the heat that shot through her body when he touched her, his arm holding her, protecting her almost from a man who clearly doesn't understand boundaries.

But, while she tried her best to put the weekend's unexpected happening behind her, life, or maybe fate, had another plan in motion. One she could have never expected or seen coming.

She's sorting through one of the few remaining boxes that still needs to be tagged and put out for sale when a throat clears behind her.

Putting down the iPad, Solana stands up, wiping her hands on her shorts and loads up her typical, usual smile. Turning around, she readies to greet the probable customer but falters a bit, taken back by his appearance.

Wild, red hair that's surely seen better days. Tall with an almost lanky build, he wears one of the friendliest grins she's ever seen on a person, let alone a man.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "How can I help you?"

Again, he clears his throat, pulling out a wrinkled little piece of paper that seems to have writing scribbled on it. "Yes, I'm looking for a Sol---Solana?"

She laughs at his pronunciation but proceeds to confirm her identity. "I'm Solana."

He makes a sound, slapping his hand against his forehead. "Of course, my apologies!" She giggles. His demeanor is so amenable. "Umm, yes, if you could, umm, come with me?"

At that, Solana's smile drops. "I'm sorry?"

He leans over a bit, and she naturally moves back a little. "I'm sorry." His cheeks are heating with redness. "I'm here on behalf of the Tribal Chief."

Solana goes still. "Roman?" He nods. "He's---he's here?"

When Solana mentioned Roman coming to see her, something she still can't figure out where it came from, she wasn't actually expecting him to follow through on that.

And yet....

The man continues to explain, "he would come in, but....you know."

Yes, she does know. Roman Reigns coming into her little, quaint bookstore would certainly attract an audience and attention, the last two things she wants, that she's ever wanted.

Solana nods.

She should reject it. Should try to find some excuse as to why she can't. Why she's busy. But, she's also not dumb enough to say no to this man.

You don't just say no to Roman Reigns. You can, but it's bound to not end up well. And Solana would rather not find herself on his bad side.

Pushing back her anxiety, she finds herself agreeing. "Of course." Hooking her fingers through the hoops of her denim shorts, she asks, "w-where is he?"

The man whose name she realizes she still doesn't know motions with his arm. "Ladies first."

He really does have a gentless about him that doesn't seem to make sense considering who he works for.

Solana silently and wordlessly follows him out the emergency exit in the back of the store, ignoring the fact that that's probably how he got inside in the first place, which makes little to no sense to her. How did he get by without the security system going off? But, for her own sanity, she doesn't push it too much.

This is Roman.

He gets what he wants.

And speaking of, Solana finds her stomach knotting a bit when she's outside in the alleyway behind the strip. There's three black SUV's with tinted windows lined up, but he's standing by the one in the middle. Leaning against the middle door, his arms are crossed over each other, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes she secretly wishes she could see.

Moving closer, Solana has to take in once again the magnanimity of him. Roman is such a big man, his presence alone something that's both overwhelming and strangely satisfying.

But, when she gets her wish, and he lifts his sunglasses to the top of his head, she finds that feeling in her stomach intensifying. He's raking those beautiful eyes over her entire body, from the top of her head to the sole of her feet.

And Solana is suddenly wishing she'd maybe put on a little makeup or done something more sophisticated with her hair. Not that that seems to stop this man from looking like he'd take her in the back of this alley if he could.

Before she can say anything, the man with the wild red hair is speaking again, his voice suddenly riddled with anxiety.

She gets it.

"Ms. Solana, as you requested, sir." He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and just when Solana expects him to walk away, leaving her along with the one man she probably shouldn't be left alone with, he continues to talk, offering an unexpected save. "And might I say, my Tribal Chief, she is absolutely beautiful. I mean, if I wasn't already married—" At the same time Solana looks at this strange man confused, Roman's gaze is borderline murderous. "But I am m-married, happily so, might I add. And I would never betray my Tribal Chief—"

"Sami."

"Yes, My Tribal Chief?"

"Leave." It's spoken to the man, but Roman's intense gaze is back on her. "Now."

Sami.....it fits.

"Of course," Sami clears his throat and scrambles away, getting in the SUV that's farthest from them without bothering as so much as a goodbye.

Once alone, she finds herself admitting in that same small voice, "I-I didn't think you'd actually come."

He chuckles, and it's such a beautiful sound. "I'm a man of my word, Solana." He flicks his eyes to her mouth. "I said I would see you again, didn't I?"

He did. She just wasn't counting on it.

Swallowing, Solana toys with the string of her top, unintentionally dragging Roman's attention to her cleavage that's showing more than usual. Of course. "How did you find—"

"That was easy. If I want something, I get it." She should know this, know that this man could probably have her social security number at this point if he wanted. "What are you doing tonight?"

Oh.

This is escalating. Quickly. So quickly. She should pump the breaks, should find someway to dead this now. But, she instead finds herself answering him, "n-nothing. Why?"

"You are now." Roman kicks off the SUV and instead moves toward her. Instead of backing away like she did with Sami, Solana stands still, only silently and internally panicking when he snakes his arm behind her and jerks her toward him, into him, into his body. Solid as steel. He's so big. Naturally, her hand moves to his chest, something Roman notices and smirks at. This man. "I'm fighting tonight. I want you there."

It takes her a second to think about what he's referring to, and then it hits her. WarGames is tonight. It's one of the few main events he still participates in. She hasn't attended an event in years. It's never been her setting, but instead of finding a way to tell him this, she's still limited to one to two word response.

"O-oh."

His smirk deepens as he brings his hand to her chin, thumb glossing over her skin. "I'll send a car to pick you up."

Picking up on something, she asks, partially concerned, partially flattered almost. "You-you know where I live?"

Roman's eyes continue to study her face, and she's never felt so under pressure. Like this is a test of some sort that she has no idea if she's passing or not. "I know a lot about you, Solana Miller, but there's still more I want to know." Oh my god. "Wear red."

Just how much does he know? Had he looked her up? Done research on her? Why? What would be the reason? What's so interesting about her that not only has he gone out of his way to gather information on her, but beyond that, is now seeking more info.

It just....it doesn't make sense.

Eyes shutting a bit from the overwhelming nature of this all, she finds herself asking in a breathy voice, "w-why?"

And as if she wasn't already an apprehensive mess, Solana's knees nearly give out from under her when he dips his mouth near her ear. "I like seeing you in my color." She exhales shakily and nervously, as he ghosts his lips over the shell of her ear. "Though I'd rather see you in nothing, but we'll work up to that."

That's not exactly what she was asking about, but regardless, it takes the pure will of God for her to not pass out when he finally pulls away, the lack of his touch on her body something she notices almost immediately.

Roman lifts his hand and snaps, not even a full minute later, one of his men emerging from the passenger side of the SUV to open the car door for him. "I'll see you tonight, Solana."

He can clearly see the reaction he's evoking from her and obviously finds great enjoyment in absolutely toying with her sanity. It's something that leads to her asking, "How-how do you know I'll be there?"

She never accepted. Never agreed. Never mind the fact that she's already thinking about what she owns red that could work for the event....

Roman gives her a curious look followed by another chuckle that she finds so much more attractive than she should. He answers so easily and confidently before climbing in the truck, door being shut for him,

"Because you're just as intrigued by me as I am by you."

[caparrucia]

I read your post about the Dead Dove Do Not Eat tag, and how you think people should take more responsibility for their own experience in the fandom sphere, and I very much agree with the points you raised. I just have a question regarding this one:

" "But what if I read something that wasn't tagged X?" Well, that's very unfortunate for you, but if it is genuinely that upsetting, you have a responsibility to yourself to only browse things explicitly tagged to not include X."

So, when I'm writing fanfics, and putting them on Ao3, should I tag their lack of things they don't include? Like, none of my fics include self harm, because I'm not willing to read it and even less willing to write it, should I put "#no self harm" in there, for people who have a worse reaction to it than I do and are following your advice?

Not asking "is it a moral imperative" because I know it isn't, but is it something you think would actually help anybody?

So, let's talk about context, because like all great spats in Fandom, this is about context.

Tags are contextual. They're flags that are trying to bring a specific demographic to your fic. Or, conversely, keep a certain demographic away from your fic. Tags are also never comprehensive. It is impossible to tag a fic comprehensively, because there will always be more tags. You can tag for the food that appears, the clothes, the political framework taken for granted. You can tag for gender or sexuality of the characters, even if the story is not about that per se. (See the large number of people annoyed when you write trans characters in stories and don't advertise it widely, despite their genital configuration having anything to do with the story at hand. Hi, Pokemon fandom. No, I will never forgive you the harassment and transphobia.)

The wording in the post, I acknowledge, might appear very dramatic at first glance. But that's because it's responding to a very dramatic, very aggressive statement. The way that certain people weaponize their trauma to try and shut down art they do not like. "This triggered me!" Is a really shitty comment to get, as a writer. Because it's usually a trap. If you extend sympathy, you will quickly find that the person yelling at you about this doesn't want platitudes or commiseration or actual resources to manage their triggers. They want you to take your fic down and remove it from the world, because "it triggered them." They want to treat your fic like a dog with rabbies: putting it down is the only conceivable solution, and no amount of polite rebukes (or, let's face it, annoyed snarking) will get you anywhere. They are not having a conversation with you. They have deemed you responsible for doing them harm (your work triggered them, therefore you, personally, set out to trigger them) and they're not willing to take anything less but the obliteration of your work as restitution.

The response "lol, that's a you problem, if it's so bad, you have a personal responsibility to not read anything that isn't explicitly stated to not include the thing that triggers you" is very mean. I acknowledge that. But it's not a response that comes from community, it's a response that aims to communicate clearly and concisely that you're not available to entertain any kind of overwrought nonsense and that you're not available to be emotionally blackmailed into removing your work from circulation.

Triggers are like allergies. The people that have them have to manage them to their best of their ability, and the people who don't have those triggers could stand to do more to be accommodating, for sure. Current tag culture is in fact the result of years upon years of the Wild West Internet that us old farts are constantly talking about. See, in the old internet, there was no social expectation for tagging. You got a title, you got a rating (not always!), sometimes you got a pairing. Anything else was a roulette. Like literally anything. I used to be in FMA fandom way back before AO3 and tag culture was a thing and let me tell you, the amount of times I ended up mid-incest fic because the initial premise sounded like a cute brothers bonding scenario? More than once. There was no tag for incest. Someone threw a fic into an IRC channel with a generic "this one was good!" and it could be ANYTHING. Literally anything!

Here's where I disagree with a lot of The Olds who whine about The Old Days: the Old Days way of doing fic? Awful. Shitty. Traumatizing, legitimately. I love tag culture. I think tag culture is one of the nicest, most amazing things we as a fandom have come together to do. It gives so much freedom for the author to choose how much they want to spoil/warn form, and it also gives readers so much freedom of choice! It's a great system! Not a perfect one. No system is perfect. But it's a great compromise. I don't think people understand how utterly revolutionary the Archive Warnings are, in AO3. Just narrowing it down to those four! (Underage, Non-Con, Graphic Violence and Character death, for those uninitiated, as well as the opt out of Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings.) This system allows the most widespread triggers and preferences to be respected. If you don't like fic about people under 18 doing anything relationship related? Slap that Underage and the Choose Not To Warn archive warning in your exclude options and you're good. Same for non-con. Or Character death! The way the Archive is setup, this guarantees you will not see fic with that.

That's revolutionary! It's great! We should hype it more.

This is one of the reasons why I'm so testy about the Dead Dove tag. I know the ship has sailed, the tag has changed meaning and it is a completely different function now, than when it started. (This is also why I don't respond to the handful of people who insist that my history is wrong and the tag is useful actually! They're missing the point of the post and also I was there when the tag first came about. I'm in the reblogs of the original post.) The problem with Dead Dove is not itself, but that its a symptom of people - most commonly antis, but really, this isn't a group-specific behavior, stupidity is policy neutral - using tags not to find fic to read or to filter out fic they don't want to read, and instead using them to find people to harass. That endangers the whole system, because people stop using understandable, straightforward tags for their stuff and instead start making convoluted spaghetti tags that only make sense in-group to try and avoid getting caught in the harassment campaign. And that sucks! That kind of behavior should be publicized and blacklisted in fandom. Ostracize people who try to misuse categorization tools as weapons of abuse, and endanger the entire system in the process. Fuck them.

To your point, should you add "no self-harm" to your fic? I don't know! I don't know your fic. Does it make sense for you to add it? Do the rest of the tags in your fic paint a picture that might require that clarification? I think the underlying conversation is that people who fearmonger about their triggers and try to use their trauma to bully strangers on the internet are really very stupid. Most stories don't include a tag about self-harm because most stories don't include any self-harm at all. Same with sexual acts. Or crimes. Tags highlight content that might be expected based on the culture the fic is coming from. If you write fic for the alien incest show (Trigun) and your fic somehow doesn't have any aliens or incest in it, it would be worthwhile to tag it for it. Just because people might expect it! Or if you're writing about depression and spiraling and mental health crisis for a character but very specifically not about self-harm? Yeah, that'd make sense to highlight that.

Ultimately, as the author, you get to choose the tags you put in, and in doing so, you choose the audience you're targeting. This is where the triggers as allergies metaphor breaks though. Fanfic is not a necessity. It's a privilege. It's a gift writers give their fandom and no one in their fandom is entitled to it. That's why tags are optional. That's why you can still rawdog fic the way we used to, and read through "Chose not to warn" And all the stories that have a fandom and a pairing and a rating, and then nothing else. No one's life is being endangered, if they don't get to read any given fic. Does it suck to be excluded in a community space? Sure! But it's not life or death and treating it like such is the source of much of the headaches around this.

Fanfic is a gift. If you have very bad triggers, you have a responsibility to yourself to only accept gifts that are explicitly for you (tagged around your personal triggers). You can always ask, but an author is always entitled to decline to tag their work. And they're not being an asshole for it. Social media has poisoned people into seeing any interaction as a you vs them situation, but the truth is people are just trying to vibe.

[jasperhaleobsessed]

The grumpy cowboy (Twilight Gift Exchange)

Jasper Hale x Female reader (gift for flesh--amnesiac)

Summary: I'm thinking maybe Jasper and the reader have a hate to love relationship? Like maybe Jasper act like he hates the reader but deep down loves her. Like he gets annoyed at things that she does. Like maybe she's what is referred to as a sunshine character. Someone who's always happy and it like irks Jasper to no end instead of making him feel at ease. Maybe he does or says something to her that really cuts deep deep and he doesn't feel bad about it until he realise what he criticized her on was for her family who was life alteringly ill or something.

Notes: Takes place during the first book twilight. I am so sorry if Jasper seems OOC but I'm hoping by the end of it he seems more like the cowboy we all know and love. This is only my second x reader fic so bear with me! I'm not the best with writing angst but I'm gonna try!! :)

Notes for flesh--amnesiac: �� 𝙈𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙨 🎄 𝙄 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 • 𝙄 𝙖𝙡𝙨𝙤 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙔𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 • 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 • 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙄'𝙢 𝙨𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙚

Warnings: Some angst but it'll have a sweet ending don't worry! <3

Word count: 3k

Tagging: @flesh--amnesiac and @twilight-secret-gift-exchange

Jasper's POV

My family and I walked into the Cafeteria, as we headed to our usual spot more than a few pairs of eyes landed upon us. We seated ourselves and started to converse. But the conversation wasn't eventful, all we did was some small talk. Today was going to be a long day, I thought glumly. I shifted my focus to my siblings. I noticed that each of them attempted to act as if we were eating but we failed miserably. I gave up long ago trying to act normal. I had heard more than a few ugly rumors about myself and my siblings. I shook that thought away. I gazed back at the food. Human food wasn’t…very good. But this school’s food was worse than the other school’s I’ve been to. Edward even tossed a piece of an apple across our table in disgust. I could feel his uneasiness towards our meals. They all felt disturbed by our food, I couldn't agree more it didn't exactly smell appetizing.

I felt their boredom, they tried to entertain themselves. Edward was focused on Jessica Stanley who was conversing with the new student Isabella Swan. Or Chiefs Swans daughter that many knew little about. But word travels fast, rumors run wild very quickly. I'm sure Jessica will learn a lot about her in a short period of time. That girl loves to talk. Everyone seemed to be curious and intrigued by Isabella just like they were when we arrived in Forks. Suddenly I could feel frustration and anger radiating off of Edward. I decided against asking him, he usually would vocalize these things when he was ready. So I shifted my focus to Alice, she appeared to be having another vision. I wonder what it could be? She was deep in thought, I thought it would be best if I left her alone. I wouldn't want to disturb her while in such a fragile state. 

Emmett had his arm around Rosalie, they were both entranced into one another. I could feel the love they had for one another, it radiated brightly. I turned my attention away when I heard a familiar voice. 

I looked to the side, getting a small view of who was conversing. I realized that Y/N was talking to the new girl Isabella Swan. She introduced herself “Hi I’m Y/N! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She smiled warmly at her. I don't understand how she can be so…nice all the time. She held her hand out for Isabella to shake. Isabella looked surprised but took her hand, and shook it gently.  “It was a pleasure to meet you as well.” Y/N spoke up and asked “It’s Isabella right?” 

“No, I go by Bella.” Isa–Bella I corrected, she looked annoyed. Y/N nodded in understanding. 

Bella turned to Jessica and asked, “Who are they?” 

Y/N chuckled. “What’s so funny?” Jessica asked.

“Oh nothing.” She turned her attention back to eating her lunch. I think the amount of time Jessica has talked about us Y/N is sick of it. 

I didn't particularly like her. We'd never quite gotten along. But some may argue that I never really gave her a chance or anyone for that matter. Most humans avoided us, but I guess what worked out well for me because of their scent. Socializing doesn't work very well due to my lack of control. The thirst for blood was just too much. I felt my throat burn, lunch will be over soon then I can get some fresh air. I need it desperately. 

I could feel Emmett conflict as I continued gazed at where she was seated. But he finally got the guts and asked me, "Why do you hate her so much?"

"I don't hate her." He gave me a look. The rest of my siblings turned to look in our direction. Edward tore away from looking at Bella and turned to me. He smirked, he leaned forward listening intently.

"Okay, okay I don't love her but I really don't hate her. She's just annoying and infuriating. And she’s just so…nice it irks me.” I shivered thinking about her. 

“It irks you?” Edward questioned. 

“Yes, Edward it does.” Emmett boomed with laughter. 

After wiping away some fake tears he said,“Uh huh. Suree.” I rolled my eyes at his antics. Rosalie looked amused as Emmett. They were truly made for each other. And Alice looked excited. I could feel her excitement, the question is what did she see?

The bell rang and my siblings and I headed to our next class. My next class just happened to be with Y/N but at least it was History, my favorite subject. 

…

Y/N’s POV 

I sat down in my usual spot in the classroom, I sat my romance book on the desk and situated myself. My partner wasn’t here today so I was sadly alone for the day but at least I could read. I flipped to my last spot and started to read. I was at the end of the book and it happened to be one of those hallmark books. Yeah I know it's cheesy. But it’s predictable and sweet. I was towards the end where they’d kiss and makeup. My favorite part. I smiled to myself, I felt a blush creep up on my face as the couple were finally leaning in to kiss and then the bell rang. I begrudgingly closed my book and looked up to listen to Mrs.Lewis. 

“Today in class, you will be starting a project on the Civil War.” Some of the people in my class groaned while others looked at each other excitingly, hoping to be groupmates or partners. 

“But I will be picking partners.” I groaned along with my peers. This was gonna be fun. Maybe it won’t be so bad? I guess I’m just gonna have to be hopeful I’ll get someone I like. 

“Now, Once you all will be in pairs together…” She emphasized and then continued. “You will be deciding on a certain event or a certain person that is critical to the Civil War. For example for a certain person you could do a presentation on President Lincoln or a Sergeant even that was critical or played a crucial part in the Civil War. In other words the person or event needs to be influential to what happened in the War. Now if any of you have any questions let me know.” She looked up eyeing the class. 

“Right, I almost forgot the project will be on a postboard. You will need four pictures of the event or person. You will need to explain why they were influential, 5 fun facts, a general explanation of the Civil War, and what happened at said event or what your person did.” 

I wonder who I’ll be with? I kept thinking this over and over. I was starting to get nervous. I suddenly felt a wave of calmness rush through me. I drifted my eyes from Mrs.Lewis and started to look around the room and met a pair of golden eyes. Jasper Hale was looking at me. Doesn’t he hate me…? At least that’s what it always has seemed like. But you could argue that he dislikes most people at this school. But if he does hate me, why? What'd I do? If he didn’t hate me so much I’d admit he’s kinda cute. Wait what? I turned away quickly trying to forget about that thought. 

Mrs.Lewis was calling partners, people were shifting to different seats. I tried to wait patiently but it wasn’t easy. I kept tapping my foot over and over again. And then I heard my name. But it wasn’t what I was expecting. Or who I was expecting to be with. 

She called, “Jasper Hale and Y/N L/N.” I didn't move. I stayed still. I was shocked. I wasn't expecting to be his partner.

I just couldn't believe it. I was gonna be partnered with Jasper Hale? We’ve never gotten along. Clearly since he hates my guts. 

“Ms.L/N?” Mrs.Lewis called. 

“Yes?” 

“Did you hear me? Are you going to move?” She asked. 

“Right, sorry Mrs.Lewis.” I moved my backpack, book and headed to where Jasper was sitting. He tended to sit in the back, he was always very quiet. He also had a habit of glaring at people and seemed to be in pain. I don't know how to explain it, it just always seems angry. I don't know what his problem is. Hmm maybe he has a good reason or there's more than what meets the eye. I hope I'm wrong. I don't want him to hate me, I don't want anyone to hate me. 

She nodded curtly. And I positioned myself in my seat. 

I focused my attention back to Jasper. I turned towards him and asked “So how do you want to do this?” I asked. 

“Do what?” He asked. 

“Umm…how do you want to split up the work and what event or person do you want to do the Civil War on?” I asked, for some reason I felt kinda awkward. 

He looked deep in thought, “We could do it on Abraham Lincoln. That shouldn't be too difficult.” 

“Okay.” I felt bored. I don't think this is gonna be a fun project. I looked down staring at my paper. While I was shocked Jasper grabbed our papers for the assignment. I think the paper had something to do with the research. It was supposed to guide us? 

“Am I boring you?” 

“What?!” I felt my cheeks flush. 

“N-no! I'm just unsure how to feel about the project that's all. I-it's not you.”

He leaned forward, “So it's the it's not you its me line, huh?” He joked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. His smile was beautiful like an angel. It may be silly or cheesy but it really did. 

“Nooo… okay maybe a little.” I felt a bit embarrassed. I rubbed the back of my neck. My cheeks once again flushed. So I decided to distract myself by grabbing a history book from my desk. I grabbed a pencil and started to write down some notes for the project. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, looking at me carefully. 

I turned back to look at him and said, “Umm…writing down some notes for the project?”

“You sound unsure.” He observed. 

I take a deep breath and say what’s been nagging at me this whole time. “Why do you hate me so much? What did I do to you that was so awful? Why do you stare at me with daggers in your eyes?” I feel anger course through me. 

“Why do you care? You’re as bad as everyone at this school, in this town. You're all the same.” He said carelessly. He looked so angry. Rageful. His eyes were dark, coal back. I’ve never seen someone look this angry. It scared me. But then my anger rushed back, the nerve of this man. He knows nothing. I try to be kind, nice, good, and true. I’m not perfect but I’ve never said anything bad about him. Or about anyone. I try to be nice to him and to everyone for that matter. I am not always perfect. I may mess up and get angry but I’ve never treated him or anyone like this. I’ve never assumed that everyone is the same because they’re not! We’re all unique individuals with our own amazing qualities. But then the sadness rushed in me, I felt tears spring in my eyes. Why does he have to be so cruel and so cute? The bell had perfect timing, it rang and I left as fast as I could. 

…

Jasper’s POV

I could feel her anger from miles away. Who you may ask? My pixie of a sister. Alice. She’s angry, to put it lightly. My siblings wanted to know what was wrong. But neither of us would budge. I’m sure Edward tried to read her mind but she blocked him out. I only know this because he looked frustrated. When we got home she berated me. Everyone was staring. 

“What is wrong with you?!” She questioned. 

“What do you mean what’s wrong with me?” I asked. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You're gonna let her get away? She’s your mate! You love her! Anyone would say she's literally a ball of sunshine!” She yelled. I’d never seen her so angry. It was unlike her. I tried to send calming waves through her but that only made her angrier. She pointed a finger towards me, “Do not try to calm me down! I am not done! And I will not stop until you see reason!”

She continued by saying, “You thought it'd be a good idea to break her cute little heart? She cares about you Jasper, flaws and all. So go get her. Hold her tight and don’t let her go because she's a keeper, alright!” I stared at her blankly. She took a deep breath, “I know that your are most likely scared anyone would be–”

“Except for ME!” Emmett yelled. Rosalie slapped his head. “Aw!” He yelled again. Everyone watched and listened intently. 

“Anyways, I know you're scared but don’t push her away, you need her. And I know you assume the worst because you’ve all you’ve known but some humans can be truly good. Think about it. Please.” She pleaded. 

“I will.” I say calmly. 

She pointed her small finger at me again, “You better mister or you’ll be in a lot of trouble.” She said with some sass in her voice. I scoffed at her jokingly of course. 

I decided to get some fresh air, I needed to think.

When I first met her or saw her it did irk me with how much she could be kind or nice. But as time went on her kindness and sunshine felt pleasing. Most humans especially when they’re teenagers emotions are everywhere and that means it can be a lot. It can be suffocating at times. But when I felt Y/N’s emotions it was like a breath of fresh air. It felt good after so long of so many suffocating emotions. But it did take a while before it felt like this. For the first year I had met her I really did dislike her and how she acted irked me. It rubbed me the wrong way. Then I realized I didn’t hate her, I loved her. She was so kind, so sincere, so true and I didn’t want to take that away. So I avoided her, I kept telling myself I hated her with every fiber of my being. But it just isn’t true. Even though I knew she was kind I did feel a bit wary of her because most people in this High School weren’t exactly the most sincere. And then I convinced myself she was just like everybody else. It would be easier this way, I wouldn’t hurt her. I wouldn’t harm her. I honestly don’t know why I said what I did. Maybe in a way it was me trying to protect myself from harm or maybe it was the fact I wanted to protect her from me. I think I’m scared of hurting her. 

The look in her eyes broke my heart. The way her eyes were glossy from tears ready to spill out of her eyes was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. Alice thought she needed to snap some sense in me but she didn’t. I already knew. I could already feel it. I could feel her heartbreak, her anger towards me. But I can’t leave her like that. I have to do something. I won’t leave the person I love most hurt so deeply. I have to mend her broken heart, I have to mend my broken heart too. I love her too much to leave her in the state she is. I remember the way it felt when her heart broke into a million pieces. I felt her anger. I could imagine her saying “How dare he?” ‘Why would he think that?” I say how she essentially ran out of the classroom because of the pain I’d caused her. I felt her fear, I wanted her to feel safe with me. But first I need to hunt quickly and I know something for certain. I will do something about this. I vow to never cause her such pain again. 

…

Y/N’s POV 

I felt like my heart was broken into a million pieces and was trampled on. I was currently laying in my soft, comfy bed surrounded by my favorite stuffed animals alongside my trusty tub of ice cream. I also was playing soft music in the background. I felt tears stream down my face, I snuggled closer to my stuffed animals. I know it may be childish but I need all the comfort I can get. So who cares!

I couldn’t help but think of the times when I saw Jasper help a fellow classmate or when he helped one of the teachers. Many including myself thought at times he seemed cold but that wasn’t it was it? I’m sure what’s going on with me but I don't think he is what meets the eye. But at the same time that can’t be true he literally just looked at me with such hatred. Now, I don’t know what to think. Maybe he isn’t as good as I thought. I hope I’m wrong. I turned over and closed my eyes. But just as I started to doze my mom yelled, “Y/N! You have a visitor!” A visitor? Who’s coming to visit me? What’s going on? I moved from my bed practically running down the stairs. I kept thinking who it could be. I was not expecting him to be here. I was shocked. My mom said with a small smile “I’ll leave you too alone.” 

It was Jasper. He was here! He was wearing a black suit which, funny enough, suited him well. He looked very gentleman-like and handsome. I couldn’t help but blush looking down. I had almost forgotten what had happened. But it hit me like a rock. He said some pretty cruel things. And scared me half to death while doing it. I looked up at his honey golden eyes, “Why are you here?” I asked quietly. I wasn’t sure what to feel. I was unsure. But a question kept popping in my head, Why is he here? What does he want?

He spoke up and said, “I came here to apologize, I should have said what I did. It was wrong. You aren’t like everyone and perhaps everyone else isn’t so bad either. You truly are an amazing person and I am so lucky to have met you. You're so warm, so kind, nice, sweet, sincere, loyal, and true. If you can accept me for what I am, flaws and all, then I’d be the happiest man on earth.” I gasped. No man, no guy, no boy had ever said anything like this to me before. 

And I could see it in his eyes. He meant it, he loved me too. He truly cared and I hadn’t felt that in a long time. I felt tears fall out of my eyes. And I hugged him and he spun me around. I had never felt this happy, this joyous. 

“Of course, I forgive you! You’d be too hard not to be such a gentleman!” I let out a giggle. He wipes out my remaining tears. He speaks up again, “I have one more surprise.” He pulls out a bouquet of Gardenia. It could mean, “Purity and sweetness and they can indicate a secret love or crush. They give joy and if given you are telling the recipient you think they are lovely.” It’s funny I just read this the other day. This man is full of surprises but amazing ones.

“I love you Jasper Hale.” He smiles, “I love you too Y/N L/N too.” He leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips.

The End

[drinkyourvillainjuice]

Drink Your Villain Juice - FAQ

Contains mild spoilers.

What is the story about?

You play as a science experiment turned undercover supervillain, charged with gathering information on a mysterious new villain group in town. With many skeletons in your closet and mixed allegiances, whose side are you really on?

Genres: Horror, action, traumatised people trying to heal (or get worse)

Who is involved with this IF?

There's the writer, and there's her wife (the secretary!). Both of us are active on the blog, so you may sometimes see posts unrelated directly to DYVJ, usually tagged #unrelated.

What are the protagonist's powers?

The protagonist/MC can grow a resilient membrane over their body, forming two tendrils from their shoulders. The membrane makes them stronger, faster, and more resilient.

MC can also select one of three power specialities: inducing wild and uncontrolled mutations of their body, creating small creepy-crawly minions (referred to as 'nodes'), and growing a protective carapace.

Will we be able to gain multiple powers/will you add new powers?

No: both would add too much complexity and also detract from the significance of the choice.

Will our powers get stronger?

Yes, to an extent, but I don't write based on power levels anyway. :)

Who is this Paradigm/Dime person people keep talking about?

Paradigm, AKA Dime, is the MC! It's their codename with their 'true' faction.

How long will the story be? Is it going to be a series?

Length: I have no idea! I'm not intending to get completely bonkers, but I want to ensure all the ROs get their time in the sun too.

Series: I suspect this will be a duology, but I can't be certain yet as we're not deep enough into the narrative.

Did you say Romance Options!? Elaborate!

There are currently 7 romanceable characters in DYVJ. You can also play the MC as aromantic, asexual, or both. The ROs are explained in more detail on choice of games, but briefly:

Mallory (non-binary), Wilson/Wilma/Willow (gender-selectable), Kay (female), Teddie (male, men only), Control Group (female), Alistair (male), Beth (female, women/nonbinaries).

I'm intending on including at least one poly route, featuring Wil and Kay.

I've heard there's a choice to have a previous RO in the past?

Correct! There's a flashback sequence with MC and some friends before the supervillainy. You can choose to have MC dating or crushing on Prii (nonbinary), Shauna (female), Grant (male), or Beth (female). This doesn't prevent you from romancing someone else later on!

Will the characters from the flashback show up again?

I can promise some level of closure! There won't be romance routes though. (Beth notwithstanding)

Will you make [X] an RO?

Seven is already an awful lot! I don't want to overcommit by adding more!

Can I select all the options for the Juice changing my character's appearance?

I'm presently not planning on adding this. I'd have to alter some code in an annoying way and I enjoy it being a choice with intent instead of an 'all of the above'.

Will we be able to get off the Juice/free from control?

Keep playing and see. ;)

How villainous can I get?/Do I have to be a villain?

There will be opportunities to leap off the proverbial slippery slope, but also to be unhappy and conflicted about what you're being forced to do.

Drink Your Villain Juice! is kind of a goofy name.

So I've heard! I know it's given people the impression that this is a comedy, which it, uh, very much is not. Honestly Drink Your Villain Juice! was the only title that popped for me in the conceptual stage: everything else felt much more bland or generic.

I've found a bug, how can I let you know?

First, please make sure you didn't resume playing on Dashingdon from an old save: updates to Dashingdon tend to break a lot of stuff in the backend and that's been the root of a lot of errors in the past.

If you're confident this isn't the problem, then just send an ask or post on the COG forum! I'll look into it.

I'd like to give feedback on the game!

Once again, send an ask, or post on the COG forum. I also have a feedback form I'm trying out for each chapter, so you can fill that out if you like!

Can I support you?

That's very kind of you! Support from fans is how I can work on the game and update as frequently as I do. I have a Patreon and a Ko-fi, but honestly, I'm grateful just for your feedback. :)

Do you have a discord?

Yes, it's tied to Patreon membership. However, if you have sent a tip/donation/etc, please reach out to DYVJ requests to talk about an invite. :)

[sky-fire-forever]

Being a Our Flag Means Death fan whose favorite characters are Izzy AND Ed is wild. Because I'll be in the Izzy Hands tag and I'll see posts about how horrible Ed is and how you shouldn't like him and how his arc sucked and actually he's terrible and unforgivable

And then I'll be in the Edward Teach tag and I'll see posts about how Izzy is the real villain and how him dying is so good for his arc and Ed is finally free of him

I genuinely think people who try to make either Izzy or Ed into the perfect victims who never did anything wrong are kinda... boring? I dunno. Imo pretending that either of them are completely innocent is a disservice to their characters. But so is acting like either of them are terrible, unforgivable people

Ed abused Izzy. He was nasty to him and incredibly physically violent towards him as a routine. He abused not only Izzy, but the entire crew. He was beyond cruel. He struggles with understanding the severity of his own actions and disassociates to deal with his more horrific crimes. He drives Izzy to a suicide attempt after abusing him directly and mutilating him repeatedly. He gives a non-apology and is grumpy when the people he tortured don't automatically forgive him

Ed is also a survivor of his own abuse, both from his father and Hornigold. He's someone who desperately wants to be a better person, but doesn't understand how. He's someone who loves people a lot, but who also genuinely doesn't understand what love IS. He doesn't understand romance or gentleness or how to exist in a world without violence. But he tries really hard to become something that doesn't come naturally to him. He tries to learn how to become a good person and gets frustrated when he makes mistakes

Ed constantly relapses into abusive tendencies or doesn't realize that his behavior is wrong. But he very genuinely TRIES. He's someone who clearly struggles with empathy, with understanding that what's fun for him is traumatizing to others. He struggles with understanding that just because he's ready to move on, that doesn't mean everyone else has to

I don't think that's a flaw in his writing! I think that's a character flaw and it's actually something about Ed that really, really interests me!

(I do think there's some issue in the way the narrative presents it, with the crew going along with Ed's non-apology and then Lucius being shamed for still being traumatized, but that's not the point of this particular post)

And then with Izzy

Izzy is a fucking dick. He's a jerk who lashes out against people who aren't part of the group he's deemed worthy of his protection. He views people as either allies or enemies, with very little room for something in between. His allies are only the people in his crew and everyone else can get fucked. He's quite selfish in certain ways and he doesn't care who gets hurt as long as it isn't himself or the people he cares about. He holds himself and others to standards of extremely toxic masculinity. He despises change and resorts to allying with his literal worst enemies just so he can get the guy he likes to be with him again. He's cruel and abusive towards those who are lower than him in rank, constantly making other people feel insecure.

He's also someone who is fiercely loyal, even to his own detriment. He's someone who admits when he's wrong and always tries to fix his own mistakes. When he loses the duel with Stede, he asks Ed to let him stay, but he doesn't actually fight it. He goes peacefully, even if he whines about it. He holds himself accountable to his word and to his bond. He's loyal to Ed as his captain and as his friend/lover. He's loyal to his own crew first and foremost. When he has the British attack The Revenge, it appears as though he saves Ivan and Fang, not just Ed. He expresses disappointment when members of their crew die saving Stede from the Spanish. He protects the Kraken Crew from Ed and even stands up to Ed when he realizes things have gone too far. He's someone who has longed for community, but has only found it recently

Izzy as a character is loyal to a fault. Loyal to Ed to the point where he'll get Stede killed rather than let Ed go soft and betray who he is. And I do genuinely think Izzy thinks Stede dying is the best possible course of action because he's an idiot who is going to get Ed killed because he's a fucking idiot. And Ed being so soft snd not being a pirate is also super dangerous when he's like. The most wanted pirate there is. Izzy is loyal to Ed and to his crew. He's someone who cares too much, but tries to act like he doesn't care at all. He covers up his own insecurity by insulting others and he has a LOT of insecurity

They're both just.... such great characters and I love them both. But neither of them are perfect. They're both so fucked up and that's part of why I love them

[thethirdromana]

A few people in the Dorian Gray Weekly tag have observed that Oscar Wilde doesn't make it clear what he wants us to think of Dorian. I'd like to dig into that a bit more, because I think it's true, and fascinating, and weird.

Because if you take everything so far at face value, then Wilde has made it abundantly clear that Dorian is a terrible person. His actions have resulted in a young woman's suicide. He has a visual record in his attic of his moral degradation and that record has become "evil". The picture is covered in "signs of sin", and it's pretty clear that Wilde means that literally. It's not just that Dorian is being spared the realistic physical consequences of his misdeeds, like bags under his eyes after a heavy night out. His sins, which he is unquestionably committing, are visibly altering the appearance of his portrait, like that Roald Dahl quote:

If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. And when that person has ugly thoughts every day, every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until you can hardly bear to look at it.

We don't know exactly what his sins are. But we know how they cause people to act around him:

It was remarked, however, that some of those who had been most intimate with him appeared, after a time, to shun him. Women who had wildly adored him, and for his sake had braved all social censure and set convention at defiance, were seen to grow pallid with shame or horror if Dorian Gray entered the room.

The only reason that there isn't more scandal around him is explicitly because he's rich and attractive. Not because there's any hint that he's sometimes a good person. While Wilde doesn't say "Dorian was evil and his portrait looked evil because he was an evil person who did evil things", he comes pretty damn close to it.

And yet...

Despite all that condemnation, it's hard to come away from reading this novel with the impression that Wilde is actually condemning Dorian's actions, as the commentary in the tag demonstrates. (Which is handy, because this is vibes-based analysis and tricky to prove otherwise).

I think there are two reasons for this. One is the lavish, indulgent descriptions of everything Dorian is doing. The details feel like they're shared in a spirit of appreciation, not judgement. Post-Sibyl, Dorian's crimes are presented in an innuendo-laden, nudge-nudge way that lets you imagine whatever level of debauchery you find titillating. (It's always fun to see where adaptations choose to draw the line here). Dorian's life is shallow, but it's vivid and luxurious - and more than a little enviable. And sometimes it's fun to read about rich people doing bad things!

(Of course, that means that the reader ignores Dorian's sins in favour of his wealth just like his acquaintances do).

The other reason is the weird relationship between Dorian's life and Oscar Wilde's own. Wilde puts what feels like an uncomfortable amount of himself into Dorian - the book that Dorian "could not free himself from", that contributes to his moral degradation, is one of Wilde's own favourite books. Wilde also lived an indulgent, hedonistic lifestyle that took him into sordid parts of London, where he did things that, once revealed, would see him shunned by society, some of which we would still judge harshly.

Wilde was writing for an audience who didn't know as much about his life as we do, but he was already an established celebrity when The Picture of Dorian Gray was published, so I think his readership would see an echo of Dorian's decadence in Wilde himself. Like Basil Hallward, he put a lot of himself into his art. Like Basil Hallward, it revealed more of him than he perhaps intended - but he did intend some of it.

I can't quite imagine writing a character who shares a lot of my interests and enthusiasms, plus some of the worst of my behaviour, and then explicitly describing that character as evil, but that's what Oscar Wilde did. Dorian Gray doesn't feel like it's written in a spirit of self-loathing, but nor does it feel like a demonstration of cognitive dissonance. So I'm no closer to figuring out what the hell is going on here. But for me, the chewy complexity of exactly how Wilde wants us to feel about Dorian - admiring, judgmental, condemnatory, detached - is a significant part of why I enjoy this novel so much.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Can you write headcannons about eddie and his raccoon living in their trailer?

YES, I CAN!!!!

Eddie growing up continually took care of the animals in the trailer park (even though Wayne told him not to)

Wayne was worried about rabies. Eddie was concerned about the animal's health

As Eddie got older the more he took care of the animals

When he got money for the first time he bought food for the animals. Cat food, dog food, bird seeds, etc. And even though he doesn't have much, he sets some aside to afford the food when he can!

Now he "adopts" a raccoon a little before graduation

He hides it from Wayne for a good while shockingly. Wayne works odd hours anyway, so it wasn't too hard, but that man can tell when there is any type of change in his household

He rescues the baby raccoon one night on his way home from a gig. He sees that it's alone and sadly the mother has been hit. He couldn't just leave it there! So he befriends it by giving him food to them. (@bloodthirstybreedingbunny and I both think it was a taco that made the friendship happen 🤭)

Wayne finds out on a day when he gets off early and finds Eddie bottle-feeding the raccoon.

The two men stare at each other, and the raccoon waves to Wayne. Wayne just sighs and heads to bed.

Since Eddie was graduating in a few weeks, Wayne decides he can keep the raccoon...it's like a graduation present.

Eddie doesn't trust anyone with his raccoon. That's his baby! And what if they don't watch his baby closely? What if they don't give his baby the right snacks or they end up leaving the door open and his baby runs out into the wild?!?

Eddie gives himself anxiety attacks, thinking of the raccoons' safety.

He just wants to be a good dad 🥺

One night after performing Eddie got a bit drunk at a taco shop...he can't handle margaritas. He somehow got home with a tiny Sambora hat and now it belongs to the raccoon. He hides the damn hat...it will appear on his adopted son's head every time. All he can do is look around and ask, "How are you doing that!?"

Eddie doesn't realize just how smart raccoons are so he does get outsmarted a few times. But he will die with that information.

Eddie teaches the raccoons how to protect the trailer and will teach them how to hide weapons.

He gets into an argument with Steve and then oops there's a raccoon with a ninja star ready to fight. They won't back down until Eddie tells them to.

And Eddie is no better. Argue with Wayne and he just pulls a knife from his hair and there's a raccoon behind his leg with their own knife.

Eddie WILL cry when he can tell the raccoons are growing up. They start being independent more and even physically grow and he just can't handle

Some pictures that Eddie would have:

Tagging: @sweet-villain @emmyshortcake @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @eiightysixbaby @tiannasfanfic @djkeruigbbygirl @screammunson @seatnights @h-ness1944 @lofaewrites @zestychili @moonchildquinn @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @b-ritney

[everythingisarabbithole]

thank you for the tag @ryuryuryuyurboat!! rules. bold the ones that are true and tag others! (break because this one is a compilation of a few)

appearance. i’m over 5’5 (I had to google what that was in cm) // i wear glasses/contacts (have for a long time) // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces (and hated it because now I don't have a built-in whistle) // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

hobbies and talents. i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy at some sort of competition (depends on the definition of trophy) // i can cook or bake without a recipe (I think everyone ought to. it's convenient) // i know how to swim (my answer is... questionable, so I won't bold it) // i enjoy writing (yes!) // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends (depends on the friend) // i travel during school or work breaks (but usually to the same place again and again) // i can do a handstand

relationship. i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years (yay) // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i met online (I hope to someday)

aesthetics. i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise (why not?) // i enjoy rainy days (too restrictive) // i have slept under the stars (somewhat) // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me (I don't think calm is the word, but it's something like that) // i enjoy the smell of the beach (doesn't it smell... wet?) // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms (too noisy) // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire (perhaps) // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean (well yes, but also danger) // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season (yes!)

miscellaneous. i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle (can but probably won't want to) // i am the mom friend (if anyone thinks of me this way, that'll be funny) // i live by a certain quote (maybe. probably) // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

no pressure tags! @smol-sorrows @coffeeforkai @kapalattee @call-me-copycat @rainonthehillside @demigoddess-of-ghosts

[amelikos]

Some character notes and episode notes for HZ044, writing them down for future reference.

Friede went to check the strange tower on the isolated island, and he eventually saw Spinel and his Pokemon there. He goes back to the ship and calls for a meeting. Different from how he reacted in HZ014 when he followed Spinel's Rarecoil and fell in his trap (and didn't mention it to the crew afterwards). This time, he is sharing all the information he has instead of rushing directly into things.

Back on the ship, Friede shows the footage he got and Liko recognizes Spinel as the one who stole her pendant and mentions that Sango (she used her name) said they were going to summon Rayquaza, so Friede assumes they actually have a way to do it (maybe by using a machine or something). Dot offers to make a shutdown program that works on any machine and mentions that she cannot forgive "that guy" (referring to Spinel). Liked that they still included their kind of rivalry, given that Spinel's introduction arc overlapped with Dot coming out of her room and getting Kuwassu as a partner. Dot got tricked multiple times by Spinel, and she wants to be involved this time too, because it's personal for her.

Friede suggests using a boat to get to the island because going by ship or on Lizardon would immediately give him away. Liko and Roy want to tag along as well. Friede is about to refuse because it's dangerous but doesn't finish his sentence once he sees how determined they both look and eventually accepts. I really like that they keep emphasizing that things are dangerous, makes things feel grounded.

Liko and Roy eventually go to the island and go through a forest to get to the tower, along with Friede and Landau. There are wild Pokemon who don't seem used to humans and they try not to stand out by not making any noise. Eventually they get to the tower and Friede warns Liko and Roy to be careful. The door was open, which makes Friede suspect something is wrong but he still goes inside and ends up being locked there. Friede tells Liko and Roy that they should go ahead without him. Liko and Roy are both worried but Landau tells them to believe in Friede and continue onwards. Liko takes a deep breath to regain her composure and they all decide to look for where Rayquaza might appear. Love the small moments with Liko being worried and her just taking a moment to breathe to calm herself down, it feels real.

Spinel and Friede get to interact face to face for the first time. Friede recognized his voice and referred to him by the words he used back in HZ014, and Spinel calls him by his name and professor status. Spinel revealed that the place was built just to imprison Friede. I just like the implications that he did all of that just to trap Friede and isolate him from the others and that he was going to wait for him there, which implies that he acknowledges him as a threat and wants to delay him. Love how cunning Spinel is in general, his strategies involve some kind of deception and distraction, isolating his opponents and luring them away, which he did with both Friede and Liko in HZ014.

Somewhere else, Sango is skeptical and asks Agate if their plan will really attract Rayquaza. She also wonders where Amethio is and calls him "bocchan" (very important lore, thank you Sango for the casual reveal). Agate says that they'll execute the plan without him and that it was Spinel's idea. Sango says it's a shame he's missing out and adds that Spinel hates Amethio. Onyx tells her to stop blabbering and to get back in position, which annoys Sango but she does it anyway. Onyx shakes her head at her www He really has to put up with a lot with her (but he still cares).

As an aside, Sango's words about Spinel hating Amethio were interesting... I wonder how much of that is true. Spinel usually keeps a lot of information to himself, so the fact that his supposed dislike for Amethio was so apparent that even Sango saw it? Maybe he doesn't care about hiding it, maybe he can't hide it because Amethio irritates him that much? Maybe he feels like that because Amethio is too honest and straightforward in his approach, which is very different from how Spinel acts? I think that for someone like Spinel, being anything else than "indifferent" towards someone is a feat, so Amethio is "special" on some level... (Spinel finds very few people "fascinating" so far, we know Liko being the key to something had him intrigued, and he's also interested in Friede) He did keep up with Amethio's training and observed it back in HZ034, and last time they both interacted, Amethio did agree with Spinel in HZ027... So I wonder what's up with Spinel potentially hating Amethio, and why he may feel that way in the first place.

Back in the tower, Spinel talks about the device he made. Basically a resonance generator which recreates the energy Terapagos emits when calling to Rayquaza. Friede wonders if the Explorers can beat Rayquaza, to which Spinel says that three skilled Explorers are on the job, so they might be able to do something. Friede says that Spinel didn't strike him as the type to rely on others, but Spinel says he is just using them. Very good banter and back and forth here, I love how we get a view of how Friede considers Spinel and how methodical and calculating Spinel is too.

Friede and Spinel are about to battle, when Friede realizes he can't use Lizardon in that confined space (which is also why Spinel lured him there). He decides to send Cap to battle, and Spinel wonders if he is being underestimated (just like Amethio back in HZ002, and Friede remembered Amethio said the same thing). Blacky going full out in battle was great to see, and Spinel's battle style was interesting! Blacky knowing Reflect (a move reducing damage) says a lot about Spinel's relationship with his Pokemon too. We got a small exchange between Friede and Cap during the battle, when Cap shows him the small crack made on the and lets him know they should use this to escape.

Back to Liko and Roy, they are looking for the Explorers and Terapagos reacts to something. They can all feel Rayquaza is about to appear and it does eventually happen. (The BGM used between 12:10 and 12:20 was great and I hope it ends up in the OST if there is ever one)

Nanjamo was shown briefly livestreaming, so I wonder if she'll catch footage of Rayquaza.. Liko, Roy and Landau head to where Rayquaza is, while the Explorers start attacking him. Rayquaza was shown reacting to the sound similar to Terapagos and it felt like he stopped an attack after hearing it, I feel like this showed Rayquaza's soft side in a way? Rayquaza appeared after hearing "Terapagos" calling out to him and stopped whatever he was about to do upon hearing that sound again, so he is definitely not indifferent to Terapagos's cries.

Meanwhile, Dot announces that she finished the shutdown program but needs to get close to the device to activate it. She seems hesitant at first, and Murdock suggests doing it instead of her because he is worried about her being in danger. However, Dot says she will do it because Liko and Roy are fighting too and she is inspired to do the same to be on the same level as them. While Murdock is still worried, he is both proud and supportive of her wishes and says he'll lead her there. (Dot really grew to appreciate her friends and is pushed to act, be braver, and go out of her comfort zone thanks to them. Her development these past episodes has been great to witness.)

Back to Friede vs Spinel, they keep battling and Friede eventually manages to use Spinel's moves against him and break the wall to run away. Their VAs were really good in that scene btw (loved the way Spinel said いかさま whenever he ordered that move, and the way Friede said "sorry, I broke the place~" was a bit too much... weirdly teasy-sounding too in a way, which I loved.. Makoto Furukawa and Yashiro Taku are just great fits for their characters and their acting elevates literally any scene they are in). Either way, Friede leaves and Spinel considers him interesting now and wants to play with him some more~ So he potentially got himself a new obsession and wants to know more about Friede. I hope their dynamics will be expanded upon in the future because they are intriguing (and quite similar in some ways? Given that they both enjoy researching in some ways).

Two other things I loved was the non-conclusive aspect of the battle and Blacky's reaction. I love that HZ keeps showing non-conclusive battles because they tell a kind of story too, and that Friede doesn't finish battles if he doesn't need to. The context of each battle he takes part in is always very different (which is why it's interesting when he does engage Amethio in battle and gets into them a lot, but that's another story), and the story doesn't force battles to keep going for the sake of it. It's not cowardly to prioritize other things and HZ shows that the protag and hero side can run away. Running away or using distractions aren't only things antagonists or enemies do, and there is no moral judgement made about it, which I honestly appreciate.

Blacky's reaction was also interesting because as Friede and Cap left, I think she was growling? Which potentially shows that she may have wanted to finish the battle and knew she had the upper hand (darkness being her element too, being trapped in there was convenient) and was confident about her skills. Yet, back in HZ016, Blacky immediately wanted to back off once Oliva came out so she knew about the potential danger then. I think it shows Blacky doesn't overestimate her abilities (backing away from a confrontation that might be too dangerous, and knowing when things are in her and Spinel's favor).

Back to Rayquaza, Liko and Roy do what they can to stop the Explorers. Roy thought of using Stomping Tantrum to make Agate lose her balance (quick thinking on his part!), and called Kaiden to repel Agate's Ultra Ball. (I hope we see Kaiden more in chapter 3 because his appearance here was short and quick)

Dot eventually jumps into the scene in her Gurumin costume and manages to disable the device by connecting her Rotom Phone to it, thanks to Kuwassu and Kanuchan's help. That's the first victory Dot had against Spinel in a way, since she could interfere with his plan somehow (I do hope there is more to their rivalry in the future, still). Kanuchan eventually starts crying since the whole situation was scary for her, so Dot comforts her and calls her back to her Pokeball. Liko and Roy praise Dot for her feat, so Dot hides her face with her again before accepting their compliments. (It was cute. She clearly was happy about their words but she was still a bit embarassed.)

Eventually, Rayquaza breaks free from the ice and salt crystals. Agate starts getting visibly worried (I liked seeing another side of her since she is usually so composed and seems like the most levelheaded of the Explorers compared to the others.. she also got worried for Sango later on). Rayquaza launches Draco Meteor which hits a bunch of stuff in the area. Sango snaps and charges towards Rayquaza to use Self-Destruct (I love her battle style and how unhinged she is). The move manages to hurt Rayquaza and sends him crashing into the Brave Asagi. While Orio, Murdock, Mollie and the other Pokemon are still on the ship. Liko and the others are horrified. (Friede's expression, particularly, was good at the end.)

Anyway, great episode! I missed Kureha Matsuzawa's writing (last ep he wrote was HZ032 with Lapras joining Liko and the others, and Lucius flashback).

[cipheramnesia]

I think one of my least favorite forms of storytelling advice is what I would call "don't be bad at this."

Typically it starts with something that's explained as a poor storytelling element. However, as the explanation of what makes the specific element detrimental to a story grows more detailed, it's increasingly clear the problem is general misuse or bad techniques. In many cases the element being singled out is not innately good or bad story telling, and often times is a fairly commonly used mechanical element or theme or character trait. The actual complaint, and sometimes the meat of the advice, is that the element is often misused in some way.

What makes it frustrating to encounter in the wild is that drawing a line between "this use of of a certain storytelling mechanic is flawed" to "this is a bad storytelling mechanism" makes a compelling argument to remove something which could be very useful from the toolbox rather than serving as more helpful advice on using the tool.

There's also lots of mundane reasons a specific mechanism could suddenly appear everywhere in stories, leading to annoyance and again tagging the mechanism is a flawed cliche rather than something like "a really popular story used this element and everyone else wanted to do it because it was good in that specific case." That doesn't make it a cliche, it just makes lots of new people aware they can put an element in their stories they liked, but may not know how to use or why it worked.

And if I can do some generalizing myself, I think this also illustrates larger problems when talking about relatable individual experiences. That is, taking something from "this can be useful or detrimental and here's why" to "ten things you can never say," is not an ideal way to convey familiar or useful information. We like hyperbolic language like "worst" or "best" or "I hate it" or "I love it" or other never / always extremes. It's fun and makes a point in a dramatic way and it's great when it's also clearly meant for dramatics. But because it can be used so effectively as a style, it also gets transferred into commanding language, and that's a place where hyperbolic language can turn useful information into a false generalization.

Most experiences, artistic preferences, social structures, and similar are not fully universal. Some are very widespread at best, but in any instance trying to talk about these sorts of subjective and usually limited topics, which are also fairly common topics of conversation on social media, as universal feels like it generates a lot of friction. It may be the sociology part of me but when I'm not writing stupid things to try and be funny, I usually try and check if I'm overly generalizing in my language, and try to moderate it to something more accurate. Which I think is a useful approach to writing about ourselves or art or society. Maybe not always, because sometimes the passion of hyperbole is vital, but certainly sometimes, and I think especially if you're trying to give guidance, like storytelling advice.

[ach-sss-no]

I've been tagged by @pazithigallifreya ! There's no one I can think of offhand to tag so just do it if you want to

1 How many works do you have on AO3? Aaahhh, well, the official number appears to be 5. I have some scattered orphans out there somewhere.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 262,523. Officially. If you were to track down everything I've orphaned it might go up a bit.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Good sir, I only have written five fanfictions, so I'll just stick to the top one

Schrodinger's Hobbit

Ah yes, the one that was posted on a regular schedule and has characters people care about in the tags, giving readers a ghost of a chance to discover it and give it a 'well it's about gollum but I'm desperate for pippin' click

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

In theory, yes. In practice, if I don't reply to a comment as soon as I see it, I sometimes forget to go back and reply because I've tricked myself into thinking I already have. Because I usually reply right away, you see.

Fortunately I do eventually see the comment as unreplied to in my inbox and circle back to it.

However, sometimes if there's no question posed and a simple 'thank you' doesn't seem to apply I honestly can't think of an answer and will just appreciate the person in silence.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Uh, well, there's... oh, there's this one that's orphaned somewhere on AO3! it ends with Gollum learning how to eat people

I think I also wrote something once where it ended on a guy going 'oh no I am going to go insane just like my mother' but I don't know if it still exists anywhere.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Maybe Schrodinger's Hobbit? It ends with Aragorn saying 'Gollum isn't going to jail and we're just going to keep him' which is a happy ending from one point of view (Gollum's)

I usually just stop writing stories at the point where they stop being interesting.

7. Do you write crossovers?

The answer is no except for the time I did a crossover webcomic between two games no one cares about.

The first really ambitious fanfiction project I did was some kind of three way crossover with tons of canon/oc shipping and it was so bad.

Also there's a thing on my account that's technically a crossover but it's between Disney properties, which are already just one big lump.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

There's a TVTropes page out there with people railing about how bad my ambitious fanfiction project with tons of canon/oc shipping was. I am not going to find it for you.

In terms of comments, no, except for the one time I wrote a shipfic in a particularly eccentric fandom. People got bad about that. Oddly enough the people who liked the ship were the ones that got mad. Failed step one.

I've never gotten hate on AO3. (Not yet! 👀) Only the wild west of fanfiction.net and TVtropes.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do not.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so. I don't monitor for that, though.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've had some people get permission from me to do translations, but they never told me if they posted anything.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Ahhhh I used to years and years ago. I think one co-written thing is still floating about somewhere on ff.net.

I wouldn't be opposed to trying it again one day if I met someone with a compatible writing style and the circumstances were right, but it's not something I'm seeking out.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I guess I'm not really that into shipping. Sometimes a ship will catch my interest enough to produce content but there are none I currently find interesting enough to claim as a favorite.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

If I haven't finished it by now, I don't want to ;)

15. What are your writing strengths?

I don't feel well-equipped to judge my own work, so I will go off of what other people have said about me, which is always a great method for determining your self-concept.

A bunch of different people have said independently of each other that I'm good at characterization and dialog, so it's probably at least partially true.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh I don't know how to write a plot.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

There are so many different ways that could be done that this question feels too general to answer.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Lilo & Stitch. Almost 20 years ago now! The Internet has changed a LOT since then.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I'd like to try writing original fiction- wait, come back! Come back!

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh, now, that's hardly fair. You expect me to READ these things?