#he cannot be legally allowed to do that thing with his eyes. that's dangerous shit

[taub-truther]

you find out your husband Dr Christopher Taub has been cheating with an entire clown car full of inexplicably hot women. but just as you're about to squash him flat with a giant hammer, he gives you one of these:

wyd

[tojisun]

dance with me

— a valentine’s fic

synopsis: that "hi i need a plus one for this party and i was hoping it'd be you' fic

cw: no curses au, fem reader, soft toji, satosugu & shokohime appearances, legal age gap, (attempt at) fluff, baby gumi <3, dabbling into rich people doing rich people things // wc: 4.2k

an: happy valentine's babes! have fun and hope all like this <33

���No,” Toji says, turning away from you and busying himself with fixing up a dinner for himself and his son—you know, the five year old toddler who is watching CoComelon in the other room right now.

You groan, slumping down on the stool and resting your head on the island table. “But I was dared to,” you tell him, your whines muffled by the marble tabletop. Toji just grunts, his voice lost to the sounds of clattering plates and clanking silverware. You distinctly remember Megumi asking for his panda-designed chopsticks and your heart melts a bit.

“And it’s still not my problem,” Toji quips. You look up, still resting your chin on the table as you watch him make another plate. You realize it is for you and your heart melts for another time. “Why’re you even hellbent on winning the stupid dare? Last I checked, you always did the punishments when the fuckers ask too much from you.”

You groan again because he’s fucking right. Every time Satoru or Suguru demand too much risque stuff from you (“Kiss Shoko.”; “Break into Yaga-san’s office and try stealing your student file.”; “Fight Sukuna- okay fine, just Mahito, then.”), you usually backed out and ran around doing whatever petty penalty they had in store for you. Satoru even called you boring for not completing a single dangerous dare.

But you just cannot back out this time, it seems. Not when Satoru pulled that shit on you.

“I can’t,” you say, running your palms on your face as if to wipe away the futility of your predicament. “Satoru told me the punishment this time and I know I can’t do it.”

Toji hums, turning off the stove and facing you. “Why, what’s it this time?”

You swallow, looking away. “...thousand yen.”

“What?”

“…I have to pay Satoru fifty thousand yen.”

A pause. “Wait, what the fuck?”

You nod, bumping your forehead on his table again, a pained moan scratching at your throat. “I know!” You whine, stretching out your words.

You hear him shuffle close to you, settling on the empty stool by your side. You peer at him when you feel his warm hand rest on your shoulder, coaxing you to look at him. Toji’s face is pinched, worry and surprise are meshed together, tied by awkwardness as if he doesn’t know if he should comfort you or not. You laugh.

He rolls his eyes. “Why do you owe him that much, anyway?”

You blink, wanting to look away again but Toji is pinning you with that look and you know you wouldn’t have another chance to explain because Megumi would soon be crying for dinner. You cough, clearing your throat. “Well,” you begin, “He has some blackmail material on me and if I don’t want that secret to be aired out, I could either pay up or complete the dare.”

Toji just rolls his eyes again. “You really allowed him to have some shit over you?”

You shrug. “He found it out by accident.”

(You think back about that time in your fourth year in university, stumbling out of your dorm room only to see Satoru gaping at something on you and Shoko’s kitchen table. You remember being hungover, pounding head only focused on grabbing a glass of water to abate the rising nausea. You didn’t even question why Satoru was in your dorm or if Shoko made it back after leaving the party with her girlfriend. It was only when you plopped beside Satoru and he gestured at the scattering of papers in his hand that you learned what he was so shocked about.

“You submitted an article about your attraction to a widower?” Satoru asked, blue eyes bulged out as he pointed at your prose outline, the one that you wrote with Toji in mind.

“Uh,” you answered unintelligently, not knowing how to explain that yes, you submitted the Toji-inspired paper and won an award which led to said paper being published in the university’s journal. Or that yes, the article was about your yearning for Toji, your then-employer and the father of the boy you used to babysit.

“What the hell,” Satoru wheezed out as if he got what you were struggling to say before his beautiful and punchable face broke out into a shit-eating grin. “Damn, babe.”

At that moment, you knew that Satoru would dangle this over your head. And that despite his promises of not telling anyone, except Suguru because there is not one universe where those two do not share everything between each other, you still knew that he would hold this information over your head along with a request that he knows you would not be able to reject.

You just didn’t expect it to be used for a single dare.)

“So let me get this straight,” Toji begins, breaking you from your reminiscing. “You have to bring a plus one to this function or else Gojo would ask you to pay him fifty thousand yen?”

You nod.

He pauses. “Does it have to be me?”

Technically no, you think because it really didn’t have to be him. But this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance that your menace of a best friend presented to you so yeah, it has to be Toji.

“Yes,” you whisper, willing your heart to calm down lest Toji catches onto your lie. “Unless you expect me to pay then never mind.”

Toji laughs, genuine and joyous, throwing his head back in elation. You feel yourself smile.

When his laughter trickles off and the oven beeps, signalling their cooked dinner, Toji shoots you a wide grin. “Fuck it, sure, lemme be your plus one.”

You celebrate, jumping off your seat and launching yourself into his arms. “I don’t have to be broke!” You scream and Toji laughs again, loud and booming. You giggle along, trying your very best to quiet down your heart because fuck, it feels like any moment now it would jump out to your throat and wedge itself with Toji’s.

You shadow Toji as he serves dinner, the familiarity of their house rolling off of you as you take Megumi’s panda-designed drinking cup from the cupboards, preparing Toji’s tea mug, and setting the table with the usual navy blue placemats. You fill the doggy bowls with dog food and set aside two others for water. When Toji picks up Megumi from the living room, you open the door from the backyard and whistle, watching as Shiro and Kuro race towards you. The clacks of their paws are mirrored by Megumi’s shuffling feet and the three meet in between, with Megumi getting tackled by the hounds.

“Shiro, Kuro no!” Toji exclaims but his words fall on deaf ears as the dogs continue to lick at Megumi, the boy breaking out in hearty giggles to which you laugh along.

Dinner with the Fushiguros has always been a loud and joyous moment, after all.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Satoru’s jaw falls open. “No way,” he says.

You grin. “Yes way, bottom bitch boy.”

He groans, flopping on his king-sized mattress, dramatically throwing his arms on his face. “Why’d he agree?!”

You silently scoff at his reaction before chucking a plush pillow at his beautiful face. You shoot an innocent smile his way, flirtingly batting your eyelashes at him when he whipped the pillow away from his face to glare at you.

“Bitch!” Satoru says, seething. You send him a loud flying kiss in response, laughing when he exaggeratedly avoids the invisible kiss mark. The moment dwindles and dissipates when he settles on his bed again, pulling you to rest on him, your head pillowed by his chiselled stomach.

“So what’re you really here for?” Satoru asks, playing with your hair. Your eyes flutter close, body sagging in relaxation as thin fingers massage your scalp.

“What do I wear?” You ask a moment later; a reply to his own question.

Satoru coughs out a surprised chuckle. “Baby, you tryna cuff a man?”

“Yeah,” you say, sighing dreamily, thinking about a future with Toji. A future that you really think could be possible—you remember fleeting touches and even more fleeting looks; of shared smiles and warm embraces; the familiarity with each other’s presence.

Satoru fake gags at your reaction and you roll your eyes at his childishness, whacking him with his pillow again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You open the door, mouth instantly drying at the sight of Toji.

He is dressed in a pure black three-piece suit, completely foregoing the tie and leaving two buttons loose, instead, which allowed his shirt to show off his sharp collarbones and the tan of his skin. His hair is pushed back delicately, quiffed using only a minimal amount of gel, making him look older but sharper, more handsome but less familiar. Your eyes stray to his glossy full lips, the lip balm he put on successfully showing off his beautiful scar even more.

“Wow,” you whisper, breathless and whimpery like Toji holds all the oxygen in the world and you are dying at the edges of his fingertips.

He laughs. “You are wow yourself,” he says and your breath hitches at the genuinity of his words, the way his voice curls as if choking on an emotion. You smile, feeling yourself blush.

Toji presents his hand. “Let’s go?”

You clasp your hand together with his, smiling as he leads you to his car. The smile grows bigger and fonder when Toji opens the door for you, his own face relaxed and gentle. You watch as Toji races to his own side, and you bite at your bottom lip to reign in the desire and the yearning and the squealing, even, because Toji looks especially regal tonight.

You smooth your face into normalcy when he gets in, turning to send you a smile before reaching for something in the backseat. Your lungs fully collapse when Toji hands you a bouquet of red and gold roses, wrapped in matte black paper and finished with a big black bow.

“Happy Valentines from me and ‘Gumi,” Toji says, scarred lips pulled back in a proud smile.

There is a desire coiling at the pit of your stomach, almost taking full control of your nerves. Later, you would imagine what could’ve happened if you just pulled Toji in for a kiss, letting your lips show him how much you actually love him. Perhaps you two might even miss the function altogether, leaving to have fun with each other. Screw the penalty, you would just pay Satoru with your savings.

But you snap back in control, fingers twitching, desire dampened at the thought of ruining your friendship with Toji. So instead, you smile, gentle and sweet, pulling Toji into an embrace—one that he returns, his arms coming up to hug you just as tightly. You whisper, “Thank you, Toji-san. Happy Valentines.”

When you two separate, green eyes dance over your features and you show him just how happy you are right there with him, glowing because of his affections. His eyes crinkle as he smiles, and then you two are driving off to the dinner place.

The car ride was pleasant, the radio a muted background noise as you and Toji talk about life, often lingering around what happened to work on this-and-that day, complaining about so-and-so. Toji also tells you about Megumi, how his little boy is currently having a sleepover party with Yuuji-kun and Nobara-chan with the Itadoris.

“You’d think they’re the ones with plans tonight since they’re the couple, but they said they promised Yuu-kun to celebrate with him,” he says.

You laugh. “That’s so cute! I remember how Gumi-chan didn't even have friends in daycare so I’m happy that he has two now,” you tell Toji, smiling at the memory of picking up the two-year old only to see him crouching down beside a stray cat, one of the daycare workers sitting in silence with him.

“Yeah,” Toji says, sounding like he was also thinking about Megumi from three years ago.

You two fall into a comfortable silence and you take that time to study Toji again, cataloguing every corner of present-him into your memory. There are not enough words to describe his beauty, let alone how you feel at seeing him like this in person. Satoru says you are just being dramatic and perhaps you are, but that doesn’t change the fact that Toji makes you feel so alive, leaving you tongue-tied, sure, but what is unrequited love if not that?

“Wanna take a picture, doll? Heard it lasts longer,” Toji says cheekily, grinning at you.

You pause before grinning back at him. “Sure,” you reply because you absolutely want a picture. You hear him sputter, not expecting you to agree, but you are already pulling your phone from your purse and angling the camera to capture you and Toji together.

He shoots the screen a lazy smile, looking as if you hadn’t just rendered him speechless for a quick minute. You send the picture to your group chat. You see Satoru already typing, sending multiple responses of just emojis. You leave him on read.

“We look good together,” you say absentmindedly, looking at the picture, even though your eyes are only trained on Toji.

You hear him cough before wheezing out, “Yeah, we do.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The hotel that Satoru made reservations at is a lot fancier than the usual ones from past functions. It’s bigger too, and you begin to wonder what the purpose of the dinner party is because you are sure that the old people mingling about are Satoru and Suguru’s families, the very people they don’t usually invite.

“We celebrating somethin’ bigger?” Toji asks, eyeing the large ballroom space, studying the white and gold details on the walls.

It looks like a wedding venue and you are beginning to panic.

Someone calls your name and you turn, seeing Shoko marching towards you with Utahime, both of them looking so beautiful in their matching dresses. You’re still not used to seeing Shoko’s long hair, often you even find yourself only remembering what she used to look like back when you two were roommates.

You laugh when Shoko hugs you. “It’s been so long!” You say before turning to hug Utahime, this one far gentler compared to Shoko’s full-on body slam. “How’s Kyoto?”

Utahime beams, telling you stories about her teaching career and you nod, engrossed as she begins telling you about her students. She tumbles into complaints, but you can see how happy she is and you feel your lips tug up in a smile, feeding off of her joy.

Shoko enters the conversation. “Who are you with?”

You startle, so used to being the single one in your friend group that you forgot about Toji for a quick moment. You turn to him, apologetic, but he just waves it off, chuckling at your embarrassed grimace. You beckon him close and he moves to stand beside you, and you jolt when you feel his hand rest on the small of your back.

You see Shoko’s eyes shoot open, turning to you in question. Utahime, bless her, still looks lost.

You clear your throat. “This is Toji-san, my date. Toji-san, these are my friends, Shoko and Utahime.”

“Nice to meet you,” Toji greets, hand not leaving where it rests on your back even as he holds out his free hand to both of your friends. Shoko shakes it slowly, her eyes still locked to you and you want to throw your purse at her face because she’s being too obvious, it’s making you ballistic.

“Nice to finally meet you, sir,” Utahime greets. You snap your head at her, feeling shocked and betrayed, before remembering that she’s just as conniving as Shoko.

“Thanks?” Toji responds, blissfully lost. You continue squinting at Utahime, eye twitching when she just sends you a beautiful, innocent smile.

Shoko clears her throat and you all look at her. “Okay I’m just gonna say it, but does it look like we’re in the blind to whatever Satoru and Suguru planned?”

Utahime groans, nodding her head emotionally. “Right?” She says. “This doesn’t look like the normal stuff, I mean, they even invited their families!”

You hum, sweeping another look at the ballroom. More people are arriving, dressed up in clan kimonos and you grimace at how out-of-place you four look. Then, strawling with their usual grandeur, you see the men of the party.

Dressed in matching grey suits with black dress shirts, Satoru and Suguru walk in, holding hands. Suguru cut his hair short, not entirely that short but it’s certainly not as long as before, black locks only reaching his collarbones now. For some reason this shocks you a lot and you turn to Shoko who is just as surprised as you.

Satoru, for once, is not wearing his sunglasses but you can see them picking through the chest pocket of his suit. His blue eyes scan the large room and you see him brighten up when he sees you and your cluster of outsiders.

He waves and you instinctively wave back, squeaking when heads turn to you. You hide behind Toji’s bigger body, smacking him lightly when he laughs.

Satoru and Suguru greet people, but they are resolutely moving towards the centre space of the ballroom, long legs striding in tandem until they are placed on the spotlight. Suguru’s smile is small and polite, but Satoru is full-on grinning, pearly teeth shining as he studies the room.

It’s such a funny thing because there is no background music, only shuffling feet and occasional clearing of throats. You even begin feeling antsy when neither of your friends break the silence, cringing in secondhand embarrassment.

Then Satoru claps as if everyone’s attention isn’t on them already. “Hi everyone!” He greets, voice booming across the room. “Thank you for coming tonight! Suguru and I have a very special announcement!”

You share a look with Shoko, then with Toji, the older man quirking an amused eyebrow at you. You poke out the tip of your tongue at him and he huffs in amusement, looking at you with endearment. Your heart squeezes.

“Suguru and I are engaged!” Satoru exclaims, his voice echoing in the room.

You look away from Toji, sharply turning your head to your friends, feeling a myriad of emotions—happy, proud, confusion, bafflement—bubbling in your chest as your jaw drops in surprise.

What.

The ballroom explodes in a cacophony of noises.

Shoko jumps at you and you almost topple if not for Toji’s strong arms easily steadying you up. You are about to swoon and lose yourself at the feeling of being in Toji’s embrace again, but Shoko quickly grabs your hand and Utahime’s, dragging you two to where Satoru and Suguru are. You hear Toji’s surprised laughter but it is drowned out by the throng of other voices.

Moving to where Satoru and Suguru stand turns out to be quite futile as they are both surrounded with their family members, but Shoko is undeterred, skillfully sidestepping zoris and getas. Next thing you know, the three of you are standing in front of your friends.

Suguru sees you three first, the pretty boy letting go of Satoru’s hand to hug you all at the same time. Satoru follows easily (because wherever Suguru goes, Satoru follows), joining the pile and squishing you and Utahime uncomfortably together. Shoko is pressed somewhere between her girlfriend and Suguru, but she is just quiet again and smiling, content.

When you all separate, Satoru turns his back to the rest of the people vying for his attention and you watch as they patter off at his clear dismissal. You will never get used to the power that Satoru has over these people.

He turns to you. “So, where's the date?” He asks and you groan when Suguru chokes on his flute, eyeing you as if you dropped a bigger announcement than their engagement.

“There,” you answer, gesturing at where Toji is standing, startling when your eyes meet his. You feel giddy at the realization that Toji’s been looking at you all along. “There he is.”

You wave at him and Toji raises his flute and tips it your way. You giggle, incredibly happy at having his full attention.

Someone clears their throat and you look back at your friends only to see them staring at you with a knowing look. “What?” You ask, feeling shy and exposed.

“Nothing,” Suguru says, and you know it is not nothing. You squint at him, but he busies himself with his champagne, not offering anything anymore. Satoru laughs, coming to stand close to you.

“Looks like you can actually cuff the date,” he whispers, wiggling his pale eyebrows at you and his smile looking especially sly. You huff, amused.

“Maybe,” you mumble, thinking back to the flowers.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“May I have this dance?” Toji asks, cutting off whatever Shoko was telling you. Shoko waves before stalking away. You don’t even notice as Toji leads you to the dance floor.

You hear cheering from behind you and you groan as you and Toji glance at Suguru and Satoru, the latter half-draped across his fiance’s lap. Toji chuckles, shaking his head in amusement, eyes bright as they find yours again.

“Your friends always this supportive?” He asks. He clasps a hand on your back and the other tangling with your fingers, slowly swaying to the sound of some American song. Toji mouths the lyrics and you wonder what they mean.

(“Would it be a sin? If I can’t help falling in love with you?”)

Maybe you’ve had too much to drink or maybe it’s the buzzing love in the ballroom—Suguru taking Satoru’s hand and kissing the ring that he proposed to Satoru with; Utahime peppering kisses on Shoko’s cheeks, nose, forehead—but whatever it is, it sparked the familiar coiling in your stomach, this one stronger and overpowering the anxiety hiding in your veins.

“Yeah,” you say, “Especially after finding out I’m trying to date my plus one for real.”

Toji pauses for a moment, stumbling on his feet, before dancing again. Your heart is thudding in your chest, a staccato of dread and desire, of fear and love.

He hums. “The dashing man who you forgot was your date?” He asks, playful but careful at the same time.

“That one,” you reply, joining whatever it is he is playing. “The finest man.”

Toji breathes in sharply. “Heard he’s got a son. You ain’t put off by that?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “His son’s the best. Besides, he’s a good dad—just another reason to love him all the more.” You meet his eyes as you say this, hoping to convey the depth of your love.

You wonder if you’re fucking up your friendship right at this moment. If Toji would erect his walls again, pushing you out of his life completely. If he does, you know you would not be able to take it, but it seems like the love nestled in your heart is finally overflowing, unable to hide anymore from Toji.

Toji’s eyes shine with something like finality and you feel your breath get stuck in your lungs; the strength that held you upright evaporates, leaving you boneless and cold in Toji’s arms.

“I’m sor—”

Your apology is devoured by Toji’s lips. You squeak, jumping in surprise, wide eyes seeing nothing but a blur of black. But Toji just pushes his lips closer to yours, angling his head better and tipping into the kiss gentler. Finally, feeling like your heart is on your tongue, you close your eyes and bask in the warmth of Toji’s, well, everything.

You feel everything, deaf and aware of your surroundings at the same time—Satoru is cheering again, this time louder, and another American song is playing, filling up the space with words you do not understand. But it all melts into a symphony when Toji’s arms pull you close to him, embracing you so carefully like you are everything that is tender in his life.

You feel your eyes sting, tears tickling your lashes at the emotions rolling off of you in waves. Toji pulls back, hovering just a breath away from you, before kissing you once again.

Toji kisses you like you are the perfect singularity in his life—the one thing that makes sense. And you kiss him just as intensely, hoping to convey that you’ve loved Toji for two years now and that you will love him for more.

When you pull away to catch your breath, greedily gasping for air, Toji still doesn’t let go of you, his forest eyes lost in yours. You look back at him, just as feverish.

“I love you.”

You both blink in surprise before laughing, equally enamoured and overjoyed with the way you two said your confessions at the same time.

The chuckles dwindle, leaving only the weight of mutual hearts grasping for each other like ivy.

“I love you,” you say again. “In love with you. So so so in love.” You peck his lips once, twice, three times.

Toji smiles, a bit wobbly like he cannot believe you love him so ardently. Then, he says just as earnestly, “I love you too.”

He dances with you again, you two getting lost in your own, shared world as everything fades away.

(“You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.”)

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 06 —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

‘‘ I swear I am going to have someone beat your ass Park Jimin!’’

‘‘ It’s not my fucking fault! I broke up with her but you lead her to the apartment  knowing she’ll follow!’‘

‘‘ Damn it Jimin im going to kick your ass!’‘

Your eyes pop open just in time to see Jungkook on-top of Jimin hitting him repeatedly on the face while Jimin manages to push him off of him and begin his fist fight against him. He straddles Jungkook to the floor and punches are thrown left and right. Now the sudden headache of seeing the two brothers fight has began in your head and you cannot stand hearing the groaning and yelling between them. Bringing your hand up to signal them to stop, you realize they don’t even know you’ve awakened.

 Jungkook on the other hand is not having it so he throws Jimin off of him harshly making Jimin groan. The way he grabs Jimin’s collar with venom fast strength finally gives you the courage to yell out to them.

‘‘ Stop! Damn it, you two are like literal fucking teenagers. Act your age!”

The both of them turn their heads toward you slowly. Jungkook drops his fist, which was going to connect with Jimin’s face. You take a good look at them. Freshly bruised from each-other. Great.

‘‘ You think fighting is going to solve this problem huh? Get over here now.” You say, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

Jungkook gives Jimin a death glare before rushing to your side and feeling your forehead. You slap his hand away and pull him down by his shirt only for him to recieve a harsh slap to the forehead.

‘‘ Shit!” He stumbles back and rubs his forehead. He shoots you a glare, wanting to yell at you but doesn’t.  You motion for Jimin to come to you too. He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

‘‘ I don’t think it’s necessary for you to do that..” He says, as if your death glare towards him isn’t enough to tell him you aren’t joking whatsoever.

He gets the memo when you disregard his comments before hanging his head low and bending down a little to your height. One slap against the forehead and two across the wrists.

‘‘ That’s for you fighting He was only looking out for me. The last two were for having a psychotic girlfriend who almost killed me. Look at my wrist!’‘

You hold them out to see two I.V’s, one for blood transfusion and the other a regular for nutrients on your right wrist. Both of them bandaged up which does need to be changed because of the old blood.

‘‘ I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t know she would be this upset.’‘ Jimin says, hanging his head low. Jungkook rolls his eyes at him out of annoyance.

‘‘ Whatever. I already called my lawyer for your case. Since Isabel tried to attempt murder to you, you will win this case for sure.’‘ He proudly leans against the wall hoping to atleast crack a smile from you.

You don’t smile though. The last thing you need is another scandal. If this were to make the news and blogs right now then it could be a bad thing. You’ve just started your modeling career again and right now would be the worst time to have something like that. 

Jimin leans on the wall with his hands in his pockets, still avoiding locking eyes with you which is something he usually does. Something tells you that he’s hiding something. Something that you just can’t put your finger on.

‘‘ The police will come shortly for witness statements and your statement. Then they’ll call for a court date as soon as possible.’‘ Jimin’s voice low, illuminating with a hint of sadness.

Out of curiosity you want to say something more. To ask him whats going on and why he’s acting rather like this. It’s really not like him. He’s hiding something for sure and you just cannot put your finger on it. You just agree and pull out your phone. A missed call from Ryan. You try texting her and she almost always responds immediately. This time she doesn’t. What’s really going on?

You don’t know but Ryan took it upon herself to pay Isabel a visit. Usually visitors aren’t allowed for people in holding but with a little sweet talk of hers she got to get atleast 10 minutes to talk. That’s all she needs. When it comes to you, her bestfriend, she never messes around. Hearing the news from Jungkook yesterday she almost went luncatic. Throwing things at him, calling his brother every disrespectful name in the book. Oh she hates him now for sure.

Jungkook had to stop her from going over to the hospital to beat his ass into a bloody pulp for causing you pain and getting together with that crazy girl just to break up with her. Ryan was heated. 

But now she can take this heat and serve some to Isabel right now. She walks with confidence into the room. Nothing and nobody can stop her and if they even try, she’ll chew them up and spit them out. Catching a glimpise of Isabel sitting at the table with her hands cuffed and security next to her, Ryan shoots her a devious glare.

‘‘ What brings you here? I expected my boyfr-’‘

A harsh slam from her hands hit the table as she bends a little to her seated level, ‘‘ He’ not your fucking boyfriend. You were lucky I wasn’t there to beat your fucking ass.”

The guard tenses up at the sounds and sudden movements. Ryan notices, and decides to take her seat to calm down before she’s the one sitting behind the jail bars too. 

‘‘ Ryan.. I thought we were friends?’‘ She frowns, pouting her lips while fake wiping tears away. 

Ryan scoffs,shaking her head ever so slowly with a devilish grin on her face. “ We aren’t. Don’t let me catch you un-attended without your manager or body guard.. Isabel.’’

Isabel laughs one of her evil laughs, throwing her head back then coming back up, “ Oh how cute. Is this a threat from little ol’ you? Me and Jimin were doing just fine before your bestfriend had decided to enter his life again. I’m not the only bad guy here. She should know boundaries for taken men. Ex’s aren’t supposed to be firendly and lovey dovey. Spending nights and going everywhere with each other. Especially when one’s a famous idol with another idol girlfriend. Do I make myself clear?”

“ Maybe you should take that up with your hoe of a boyfriend. He’s the one who can’t leave her alone.” She yells, inches away from Isabel’s face. The two stare at each other long and hard. Isabel is no match for Ryan though.

The guard clears his throat to break the two’s glares. The tension is thick in the air.

“ If you ever touch yn again, I’ll make sure you’re the one in the hospital this time around.”

‘‘ You’ll all see. I’ll win this court case. Trust me… there’s things you do not know.” 

Ryan rolls her eyes, strutting her way out the room with the sound of her heels clicking right behind her. Consider the message recieved. 

It’s been one week after the situation. In which in between those days you were dismissed from the hospital and have been in at Jimin’s house ever since. You didn’t want to be here. You want to be at home with your cat, Clara. Jungkook’s been going over to feed and play with her. Jimin kept pleading for you not to return home just yet because it could be a danger to you. It makes sense. You never know what Isabel has up her sleeve. 

So you’ve been sitting here doing the same old thing everyday. Eat, watch movies and netflix tv shows,  sleep, and repeat.

Jimin would come in and out of his home studio to check in on you. He still has to work on producing and singing his songs. He’d bring the food and your medicine he prepared per usual,  kiss your forehead, and go right back out to producing his highly anticipated album.

It all seems fake to you. Something is off. Something is not being told to you. You can feel it in your gut but can’t put a finger on it.

‘‘ This is so cliche.’‘ You murmur to yourself, switching the flat-screen T.V off.

And as if on cue Jimin comes inside your- well his room with a glass of water and prescribed pain killers for you. The slight smile on his face makes you want to smile but you don’t.

‘‘ Smile for ocne yn. Do you not like staying here?’‘ He says, sitting next to you on the side of the bed and places the glass in your hands.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, taking the two pills out of his palm. “ No.. but be honest with me Jimin okay?”

His face turns a quick shade of pink then pale as if you had said the wrong choice of words at the wrong time. As if he had seen a ghost at this very moment. That’s not a good sign at all.

‘‘ Are you.. hiding something from me?’‘

The atmosphere is thick and silence fills the room. You don’t say anything and he doesn’t either. Your eyes meet his and for once they don’t pull away first. 

Jimin doesn’t know how to break it to you though. It’s now or never.

‘‘ She will never leave me.”

You bite your lip hard, “ What do you mean?”

“ That she said that she’d do everything to ruin our relationship if we continue to persue one. She’d spready rumors about you to Dispatch. Make a scene whenver you’re near me. Anything she can do, she will do it.”

You don’t know how to take this all in. You knew Isabel was possesive but not this possesive. The thought of her doing things on purpose for you to make everyone hate you makes you want to cry. To just bawl your eyes out right here right now. You can’t.. you won’t do it. 

You won’t give in because thats what she wants. To make you cry. To ruin your reputation and work. Jimin came back into your life and of course you don’t know what to do or how to deal with it. But this is what you wanted right? You’ve been longing for you and him to get a second chance. It’s you. You’re the one who’s been putting things off and not letting things go with the flow. Maybe he came back to you because he realized how wrong he was for cheating on you. For leaving you behind. For not seeing things for truly how it is. 

You knew Isabel was bad luck from the beginning. Now is the time to try and take back what was originally yours. That will hurt her more than ever. 

“ She needs to have a reality check. Not everything revolves around her.”

‘‘ I agree. Putting her behind bars might give her a reality check. It should serve her right for harming people.” Jimin sighs. 

The silence is thick. You both don’t know what to say and it’s sure as hell awkward more than ever right now. Until that silence breaks. 

‘‘ I feel like you aren’t being your true self to me. If we are getting things out now.” 

His sudden comment makes you lift your head up from playing with the comforter. “ What do you mean?’’

‘‘ You.. don’t want to take actions on what you feel, say, or want to do with or about me. It’s killing me inside.”

He’s right. You do try to push your feelings aside no matter what the cause is. It’s just you trying to not set yourself up for hearbreak again. You do want him. You do want everything to do with him. Considering the things that happened in the past, it’s no doubt theres a fence guarding your heart from intruders. 

You exhale out heavily, “ Im just.. scared.’’

‘‘ Of? “

‘‘ Being hurt again.”

Dead silence again. This time he’s the one trying to come up with words to redirect your view of him. Yes, he broke your heart in the worst way possible. He wants you to see he’s changed. 

Jimin bites his lip, voice shaky when he begins talking again. ‘‘ How can I show you that i’m not the same anymore. Im not I promise you. I want you to see I have changed. I know it’s my fault. I destroyed you but let me fix it.”

It’s all come down to this. You’ve wanted this and now is the chance to get it. Now is the chance to have what was once yours. But the feeling of doubt had taken its course on you at the worst time.

‘‘ Jimin.. how do I know that for sure?’‘ You say, unintentionally fluttering your eyes at him. To you it’s to prevent from letting tears fall. 

Jimin see’s it as that specific thing you used to do when you wanted him. When you craved him and would drop hints. To be completely honest, you do crave him. You do want him. Make-up sex was something you two used to do often. It was your toxic way of saying im sorry. 

Somehow you want to put that toxic thing into action right now. As fucked up as it is, that’s how you two know you’re sorry towards each other. Actions speak louder than words. 

He closes his eyes for a quick second before clenching his jaw to contain himself. Your weak spot.

‘‘ Stop doing that. Unless you want to start something you don’t want to finish.” 

You smile just a little, hoping he’d get the memo. “ What if I do want to start and finish it..”

As if a car alarm went off, Jimin’s eyes pop back open with a suprised look. That’s the last thing he’d thought he’d be hearing from you. “ Are you sure about that? I mean we don’t have t-”

You lean in closer to where you guys are inches apart, his lips softly rubbing against yours. “ I’m all for it.”

Within seconds, Jimin’s shirt is removed off of you only revealing your blue panties which have became a little soaked with your wetness. He takes in the scent of you before his mouth connects with your thighs, slightly sucking to leave bruises on you.

‘‘ Jimin.. don’t tease me.”  You sigh, laying fully down to spread your legs even more. He hums against your skin making you catch chills up and down your spine.

‘‘ That’s my specialty baby. You know that.” He trails a kiss with each word all the way down to your core where he dips a finger inside. You tense up attempting to close your legs. He doesn’t allow it, spreading them open harshly again. 

‘’ Jimin-’‘ You barely utter before he begins to move his fingers in and out of you slowly. You let out a whine to try and make him go faster but it doesn’t work.

He comes up to your mouth and plants a wet, sloppy kiss. “ No whining. You’re gonna get what you want. Just relax baby.”

Is all he tells you before he goes back down to your core to tend to your desires.

The first lick between your legs is ever so gentle. Too gentle for you right now considering that you want release badly and Jimin knew exactly that. He opens his mouth and swirls his tongue up and down your slit. A groan leaves his mouth once he gets a taste of you which sends a vibration to your sensitive bud.

Each time his tongue laps against you your body jerked and shook but that only makes his tongue go faster. Sending you into a moaning and groaning mess as you tug on his hair.

“Mmh you even taste the same like always.” He moans with a smirk.

“Jimin please-” you cry out, locking your fingers into his hair when a finger is inserted into your dripping wet hole.

‘‘ No whining babygirl.’‘ His voice gentle as ever when he removes the finger inside of you making you pout a little. But that pout soon turned into your eyes becoming wide when he starts to take off his shirt, then grey sweatpants, then his underwear where his thick cock springs up.

Your eyes can’t leave his body. God it’s been a while. He looks pretty damn good. You wan’t to take all of his length in your mouth right now. To hear him praise you about how good your mouth feels against him. God you want it right now. 

He gives it a few strokes before walking over to you. Just before hovering over you, he gives you a passionate kiss while lifting up your legs and positioning them to his liking. Missionary.

The tip of him pokes at the entrance of you, teasing in and out. Soon enough he enters you slowly making both of you moan together.

You still wrap and fit around his member smug as ever, and he could not believe it. The feeling of familiarity of being inside you sends him into a moaning mess with each stroke. You can’t contain your moans and screams. He feels way too good. 

Jimin begins to deep-stroke you by pulling all the way out and slamming back in. You scream his name out in pleasure as your nails scratch up his toned back. Wet sounds fill the room with him picking up his pace. You take a glimpse of him only to admire his figure right now. Forehead forming sweat beads while he groans and moans biting his plump pink lips.

Your breathing becomes faster when that familiar feeling soon starts to take over. You turn your head to the side and let out a string of moans. Jimin isn’t having that though. His hand grabs your face gently and makes you make eye contact with him. Your legs start shaking as your head tilts back moans getting more faster. You finally let out one last one in sync with him, his hot sperm shoots inside of you.

Jimin pulls out, breathing heavily and collapses ontop of you. You let out a small grunt with the sudden extra body upon you, then giggle at him when he lays his head lays against your chest. This is what you wanted. He’s true. He’s sorry. 

‘’ I love you.”

That word surprises you. You weren’t prepared for it. Somehow though, you enjoy the fact that he’s said it to you. Love. Jimin’s love. Your love. 

‘’ I love you much more Jimin.’’ 

[theonethatwatchesalotofshows]

Ranking Teen Dramas based on how realistic the amount of freedom the characters get is

One Tree Hill- I am sorry but what kind of parents allow their 16-year-old daughter get married to a guy she's been dating for just a few months? And how are Brooke's and Peyton's parents never home? These 16-year-old girls are living in their big houses by themselves and basically raised themselves and no one bats an eye? Also why did Nathan's parents allow him to be emancipated and move out at 16? Don't you have to prove that your parents are neglectful in order to get emancipated? Basically the more I think about it now the more I don't understand why this show wasn't set in college

Gossip Girl- again, parents are never there and their 16-year-old kids are out buying strip clubs (that they can't even legally go into!!) and flying to Europe on private jets. However I could suspend my disbelief over this one since they are supposed to be super rich. What I cannot suspend my disbelief over is that Rufus, who was supposed to be a hands on father just leaves his 16-year-old son alone with his younger sister while he goes on a tour for the entire summer. And then he disappears again between Thanksgiving and Christmas if I remember correctly. No wonder Jenny is so rebellious and wanted to be emancipated.

The OC- similar to Gossip Girl, I can suspend my disbelief and pretend that maybe super rich people are just like that, but seriously who lets their 16-year-old daughters go alone to Tihuana to party? The partying part aside, it's dangerous. And it was also said they do this every year since idk when. So what they just let two 14-year-old girls travel alone to Mexico to party?

The Secret Life of The American Teenager- I mean the parents actually try to parent in this one apart from Adrian's mom. She is never even at home and Adrian is just free to invite a different guy every night.

Pretty Little Liars/Stranger Things- "Where are you going?" "Out." "When there are children disappearing and serial killers running loose? Okay, sweetie, don't forget to stay hydrated!"

Skins- again, everyone always staying out all night, smoking and having sex even when the parents are home. Everyone's parents being too busy cheating on each other to actually parent. Cassie randomly leaving her parents to move back to England and having no place to live, like seriously did her parents just not care where she was? Same goes for when Effy went into "exile" with Cook. Did her mother just not give a shit where she went?

Dawson's Creek- still pretty chill with everyone staying out all night at 15 already but I guess it's a small town so they know nothing will happen to them. What I find harder to believe is everyone's parents being okay with everyone constantly sleeping over at each other's places and Pacey and Joey spending three months on a boat together. What is completely unrealistic is Pacey and Joey/ Jack and Jen sleeping in the same room at the ski trip. Like come on. Teachers would check.

Euphoria- how does literally no one have a curfew? Or a dress code? I mean seriously, if those kids had a curfew they wouldn't be in such mess

Glee- we don't know much about the parents here since they are not important to the plot. But what stood out to me was how Rachel and Finn were allowed to go out unsupervised on a school competition in New York. New York is a big city anything could have happened to them. Mr Schue shouldn't have allowed it. Also everyone being so chill with Finn and Rachel wanting to get married in high school.

Freaks and Geeks- finally some realism here. While some people have parents that just do not care, Lindsay and Sam's certainly do. And I loved the addition to other characters' parents, particularly Kim's. It was just very well written and acted.

Gilmore Girls- finally some representation of us folks with strict parents. We all feel you, Lane and Lorelai!

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from the Lost Tomb part 6.1

🎶 Back on the bullshit I never got off🎶

Is this another unnecessary story arc?? With three sections??

Yes.

Wushanju Crew Chat

Wang Meng: You know, I’m someone who appreciates consistency in my day. My life is pleasant, very few issues indeed if you ignore the big ones. And yet. Yet here we are. With unresolved messes at the end of a day.

Wang Pangzi: SOMETHIN YOU NEED TO SAY MARY POPPINS

Wang Meng: We need to talk about Huo Daofu and the glittery bead curtain.

Wang Pangzi: MY FAVE TEEN WIZARD SERIES

Wu Xie: did you turn on that suggested word thingy lol

What glittery bead curtain

Wang Meng: I closed the shop at 6:00pm this evening on the dot. I locked all of the doors in and out of the shop very carefully, especially in light of recent events. The hall leading to the back office was empty. I filed the day’s paperwork, updated and sent emails, and then spent an extra hour organizing receipts and dusting. When I came back out, there were glittery iridescent bead curtains over the front entrance to the shop.

What could this mean?

Wu Xie: uh that you need to spend less time at work?

Wang Pangzi: LOOKS LIKE WE GOT ONE FOR THE DETECTIVES. THE MYSTERY OF THE BEDAZZLED THRESHOLD COMMENCES

Wu Xie: I think we can be relatively secure in thinking a glittery bead curtain isn’t a hostile threat

Wang Pangzi: SAYS YOU

I REMEMBER YE OLDE EXPLORATION TIMES HOW FAST THINGS GOT FURIOUS

BEANBAG CHAIRS SET AFLAME AND LEFT ON DOORSTEPS AS A WARNING

GLITTERBOMBS FOR DAYS

PANIC AT THE DISCO

Wang Meng: Ugh, forget it. I should have just taken them down, regardless of who they belong to.

Zhang Qiling: They are not mine.

Wang Pangzi: A BOLD STATEMENT COMING FROM OUR PRIME SUSPECT

SOMEONE QUICK GO DRAW CHALK AROUND THE DOORWAY TO MARK THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Wang Meng: Do we know anyone who *would* sneak in and put those up? For whatever reason, legal or not? Even as a joke?

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHETHER WE KNOW ANYONE WHO IS CHAOTIC, AN OUTLAW, A PRANKSTER AND/OR SNEAKS INTO PLACES

BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN OUR SUSPECT LIST IS LITERALLY EVERYONE WE KNOW EXCEPT FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: okay let’s think about this; for starters, I didn’t break into my own shop

Wang Meng: You would be in danger of doing some work in the process, that’s true.

Wang Pangzi: LOL

Wu Xie: ANYWAY let’s keep going. For example, Xiao Ge would only break in somewhere for a good reason. Xiao Ge, did you do this?

Zhang Qiling: No.

Wu Xie: okay who’s next

Wang Pangzi: YOU REALLY MISSED YOUR CALLING IN INTERROGATION TIANZHEN

REALLY PUT THE SCREWS TO HIM

IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE;)

Zhang Qiling: How can we be certain *you* didn’t do it?

Wang Meng: Admittedly that was my guess, too.

Wang Pangzi: WOW I SEE HOW IT IS

BLAME PANGZI AS USUAL

ANYWAY HOW DOES HUO DAOFU FIT INTO THIS

Wu Xie: Oh yeah him! Oops I got distracted

Wang Pangzi: UR ENTIRE HISTORY IN A NUTSHELL

Wu Xie: Ugh fuck off

Wang Meng what abt Huo Daofu??

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wu Xie: oh sorry xiaoge I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have spent much time around him last year

He and I go way back

Zhang Qiling: Way back where?

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: I CANNOT BELIEVE HE IS BUYING YOUR INNOCENT ACT

IF YOU EVER TURN TO EVIL WE ARE FUCKED

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO HUO DAOFU IS

YOU WERE EXTREMELY POLITE AND BORDERLINE FRIENDLY TOWARDS HIM

Zhang Qiling: I wanted him to feel welcome. I wanted to be sure he understands he has a place here. A specific place.

Wang Pangzi: FOR A SILENT GUY YOU ARE A MASTER AT SUBTLE POWER PLAYS IM ALL TINGLY

LMAO THE IDEA OF WU XIE LEAVING YOU FOR HUO DAOFU IS HILARIOUS AND ALSO NOPE

Zhang Qiling: Rationally, I understand that.

Main Chat

Wang Meng: Huo Daofu is coming for the weekend—didn’t Wu Xie tell you? Wu Xie asked me to check in a week ahead so we could start getting ready for his arrival

Wu Xie: oh yeah I did do that

Wang Meng: Fortunately I know you and so I already went ahead and took care of everything.

Re: the trip

He made a deal with Wu Xie’s doctor that he would do periodic checkups on him here at Wushanju

Bc Wu Xie hates being in the hospital

And frankly the hospital hates him too

Wang Pangzi: FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT LOL

I FORGOT HUO DAOFU WAS DOING THAT

A VERY CHIVALROUS GESTURE

WOULDNT YOU SAY

XIOAGE

Zhang Qiling: Is it safe for him to be here with a criminal loose on the premises?

Wu Xie: Right, back to the curtain! Let’s focus on the curtain, hmm?

Wang Pangzi: I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS WEEKEND.

ALSO WE CAN RULE OUT XIAO BAI FOR THE CURTAIN SHE JUST SENT A SELFIE FROM NORWAY COVERED IN GREEN SLIME WITH ZERO CONTEXT, UR PROTEGE INDEED

Wu Xie: okay but who else would do something so oddly charming yet illegal and—wait.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: hey, Glasses hasn’t been in touch lately right?

Li Cu: uh nope

Unless u count the outdated memes

Why, is money or Xie Yuchen missing

Or is this curtain related, I saw Wang Meng’s tweet

Wu Xie: haha no nothing to worry about really

(I mean maybe? but who knows)

Wang Meng is probably just getting a little paranoid in his old age

Li Cu: better than getting reckless and stupid as hell in ur old age

Wu Xie: …hey:(

Unknown Number: Li Cu, we discussed this.

Wu Xie: ????????

Li Cu: *sigh* fine, reckless and stupid as heck

Unknown Number: …close enough.

Wu Xie: EXCUSE who is that

Madame, Sir, Non-Binary Tree Spirit, etc—whomst the fuck

Are you

Li Cu is underage FYI

So Im staying on this chat

Li Cu: okay first of all, it’s not like that

Second of all I’m literally not underage I s2g

u threw the embarrassing surprise bday party, okay so u should remember

And C, that’s my counselor and I invited her. She wanted to meet u and I knew u wouldn’t agree to a visit so I added her to our chat

we have been discussing u

Wu Xie: Oh wow!!!!!!!

What a surprise:)

hi so nice to meet you:)

Main Chat:

Wu Xie: RED FUCKING ALERT

FUCK THE CURTAIN FUCK THE VISIT

IVE BEEN TRICKED INTO FAMILY THERAPY BY A SMUG TEENAGER WHO TEXTS UNKNOWN NUMBERS

Wang Meng: I assume that means something to someone here?

Not my problem? Good.

Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHA GOD I LOVE LI CU

HES LIKE ADORABLE KARMA FOR ALL THE SHIT YOUVE PUT ME THROUGH

IM RAISING HIS ALLOWANCE

Wu Xie: wait i give him an allowance

has he been collecting on two allowances??

Zhang Qiling: Three. I knew about both of yours.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: so uh may I ask your name?

Unknown Number: you can call me Ms. Lee.

Now, if you’re comfortable talking in this format, why don’t you tell me how things have been going?

Wu Xie: oh everything is normal and fine and safe as usual, why do you ask:)

Li Cu: I heard about ur necklace thing. nice of you to NOT mention it.

another dangerous adventure. again. prick.

Ur lucky your cool boyfriend cares about you so much or you’d have already died like ten years ago

Wu Xie: lol try twenty years ago

Li Cu: That isn’t funny.

Unknown Number: …What?

Wu Xie: shit ur right, okay that was a bit glib, my apologies.

…I use humor as a coping mechanism?

Unknown Number: and Li Cu, how do you feel about that?

Li Cu: he doesn’t even know what that phrase means

He doesn’t cope, like ever

In fact

It’s kind of why we met

Which is a funny story in retrospect tbh

Wu Xie: haha what are you talking about sweetie hahaha need I remind you of certain anecdotes that could idk send me to jail maybe lmao

Unknown Number: …You know, perhaps an in-person meeting might be more effective?

Wu Xie: haha such a nice idea but why

Main Chat

Wu Xie: If I go to jail, I’ll have to create alliances for protection, right, that’s how it works on tv

Who do we know who spends time in jail

Other than Hei Yangjing, he’s only ever there for like 12 hours and i suspect he just gets himself arrested bc he enjoys the breaking out process

Also how’s the curtain case coming along

Zhang Qiling: Has someone threatened you?

Wu Xie: well not yet but soon I’m sure

Wang Pangzi: WHERE WAS THIS PARANOIA WHEN WE GOT TAKEN TO THE TEA HOUSE HUH

Snake Eyes Minus Your Fucking Therapist Chat

Li Cu: okay how tf did u pull off spy and undercover shit

u are sus as hell

Wu Xie: damn son is it pick on Wu Xie night

I missed the flyers or I would’ve invited my uncles

Also re: the curtain it’s been mostly solved

Li Cu: I’m not your son, idiot.

Wu Xie: …oh. Sorry, sorry, you’re right, bad choice of words, haha

Forget i said anything

Delete this chat even

Li Cu: shit I meant

Legally, biologically, I meant—

shit

…I turn into an asshole as a coping mechanism?

Wu Xie: oh that’s all okay! I have to go do something else now let me know if you need anything okay kid thanks!

Li Cu: goddamn it calm down who’s the kid here

lemme organize my thoughts so I can articulate my emotions fuckin healthily or w/e

Ugh maybe for like one afternoon we could go to Ms. Lee together? She knows how to word stuff

Wu Xie: uh…okay.

Li Cu: Anyway you don’t need to worry abt jail

As if you would survive prison for one day you’d piss off half the place in like an hour or less

I gave Ms. Lee the heavily edited version of the desert highway to hell roadtrip and i discussed it more in terms of like “nightmarish but still wouldn’t take any of it back”

Well maybe the sand

that shit was everywhere

Wu Xie: oh kiddo. It’s fine, really…You don’t have to explain yourself to me.

Li Cu: no, no it’s just

I do technically have a dad

who is an asshole. Being a son doesn’t really mean shit to me bc it sucked.

So you need to stop backing down just cuz ur guilty abt stuff. I’m really really glad ur not my dad in a good way. Do u get what I mean there

Where’s the mafia widower I followed into hell, huh

Wu Xie: Ur a good kid, despite my influence. I’m really glad you have someone to talk to after everything I…after everything. Wow this talking through feelings thing is kind of weird but nice ur right

Jfc no wonder it took me and xiaoge so long to—you know what, we won’t get into that

Li Cu: ew tmi

Also re: this week’s recent necklace fuckery

I moved my stuff here, I live here now

So you can’t die anymore

Or else…Idk I don’t have a threat planned

anyways abt the curtain

Wu Xie: oh my god, kid…kid you have no idea

I am in tears.

Li Cu: see this is why I can’t be nice to you I can sense the hallmark channel from here

Ugh don’t be sad in ur room that’s dumb

Go hug Pangzi or something

Maybe delete this chat

Or the curtain thing

Focus on the curtain thing

Just stfu and go away

Wu Xie: <3 screenshotting this <3

Li Cu: I take back everything I said. This is why Xiao Ge sleeps on the roof. I hope the ghosts of the Wangs put up that curtain to strangle you somehow. Go die in a stupid way, it’ll suit you.

Wu Xie: lol don’t worry I’m not gonna embarrass you with it or anything

Main Chat

Wu Xie: omg guys look how cute my kid is *sending screenshot*

Wang Pangzi: I MEAN

HE IS WISHING YOU DEATH

BUT SURE

CUTE I GUESS

Wu Xie: no but read the whole thing:):):)

Zhang Qiling: It is indeed very hard to remain angry with you. And you are welcome to join me on the roof.

Wang Pangzi: UH NOPE

NOT WHENI HAD TO BLEACH THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN

DONT TRAUMATIZE THE EARLY BIRDS THEYRE ALREADY FREAKED OUT BY U YA HOODIE CRYPTID

Wu Xie: ok true but babe ur like a sexy cryptid

Wang Meng: so, are we just accepting that there is a glittery curtain of unknown origin, and Huo Daofu is going to have to see it while he’s waiting for you at Wushanju bc you’re going to family therapy?

Wu Xie: right

Wang Pangzi: SHOULDA TAKEN EARLY RETIREMENT HUH

Wang Meng: I’m going to go dust something.

Unnamed Chat:

Unknown number: so the curtain…

Unknown number 2: yep, not my best work but I kinda panicked last minute u know

Unknown number: what is in the water at Wushanju that makes everyone dumb and attractive

Unknown number 2: relax they’ll figure it out

[panharmonium]

you know what?

no.  absolutely not.

i already did part 1 of this post here.  i’m back again with part 2, because unfortunately the awfulness factor doesn’t stop with arthur, and as much as i adore hunith generally, this entire sequence is a MESS.

and yes, i am aware that pretty much nobody else thinks so.  every time i see this scene referenced in fandom, it is always framed as a fun, cutesy, sing-songy moment of “oooo, hunith ships merthur!”  literally every time.  

which, you know, like i always say about everything fandom-related - that’s fine.  everybody is going to enjoy things differently; you do you, and keep on having fun!  but here on my own blog, in my own space, i am gonna do me, and in this case ‘me’ involves yelling about how much i can’t stand that particular read, and how angry the end of 1.10 makes me.

disclaimer, to help folks curate their own fandom experiences: i am going to be Very Cranky for the rest of this post.  if you love this particular scene in the way i just mentioned, you will probably want to scroll on by, because this piece of meta most likely won’t be your jam.  as always, these are my personal thoughts and nobody is obligated to share them, so please do not hesitate to simply skip this post if we are on different wavelengths - instead, keep enjoying fandom in whatever way is most fun for you!

fair warning now given, off i go on a long, frustrated tirade.

i already wrote about the first half of this scene, where arthur decides that the appropriate thing to do at this particular moment is to give merlin a scolding about the evils of sorcery, despite the fact that the only reason arthur is even alive to deliver this lecture in the first place is because merlin’s ‘sorcerer’ best friend just DIED saving arthur’s life.  but sure, you know what, let’s use said best friend’s funeral to chastise merlin about how “dangerous” sorcerers are.  let’s just make that completely dickheaded decision.  

and, moving on to the second half of this scene - here’s the thing.  hunith overhears this entire conversation.  she overhears arthur telling merlin off about sorcery, in front of the burning corpse of merlin’s best friend, who is, as far as arthur knows, the ‘sorcerer’ who died saving arthur’s life.  

and yet, for some inexplicable reason, hunith still cannot get off the arthur pendragon train for two damn seconds.  

she has known arthur for less than a week.  by contrast, she has known will for his entire life.  but the instant arthur walks away, hunith sidles up next to merlin and says, “you’d better be going” - like.  okay, my god, can you try to hustle him away from his best friend’s in-progress funeral any faster?????  how about we maybe give him a second?  the pyre hasn’t even burnt down yet, and merlin hasn’t had a single second to himself since this sequence started.  he’s had to stand there and listen to arthur insult the dude who everyone is supposed to be memorializing, and then hunith - who overheard the entire thing - zips right over and tries to chivvy merlin on his way.  you’d better be going.

HELLO?!  the pyre is still roaring.  how about, instead of hassling merlin and hustling him offstage, everybody just sits down and waits for a minute.  how about they all just leave merlin alone for three everloving seconds.  

honestly, just - every time i think about this scene i get angrier.

i love hunith, and i know she’s well-intentioned.  but everything she gives merlin in this scene is the exact opposite of what he needs.  he doesn’t need to be hurried off the village green like there’s some reason he can’t stay there for the entirety of his friend’s funeral.  he doesn’t need to be pushed into going back to camelot when he is clearly struggling with the idea of leaving ealdor again.  and he absolutely does not need to be told how much someone else “needs” him right now, when he himself is the one who is having a fucking crisis and who needs someone to take care of him.

i cannot emphasize that last point enough.  it is just - beyond upsetting to me that hunith literally watches arthur shitting on merlin’s dead best friend (and, by proxy, merlin himself, since merlin is the actual sorcerer) and she still somehow thinks the right thing to do is walk over and start telling merlin how great arthur is and how arthur “needs” him and how merlin “belongs at arthur’s side.”  

i can’t stand that.  it makes me so angry.  it’s not right.  it’s not fair.  it’s damaging.  it’s the same shitty messaging that destroys merlin’s life in later seasons, this idea that he exists for someone else’s sake, the complete disregard for what he himself might want at any given moment, for what he himself might need, for the reservations he might have about this plan that other people have formulated for his life.

he is UNCOMFORTABLE when she says these things to him!  he doesn’t look at her; he shifts his gaze to arthur and the camelot squad with this grim, unconvinced expression on his face, and then he averts his eyes from her.

everything hunith tells merlin in this scene is the exact opposite of what he needs to hear.  he does not need someone to tell him how badly his services are “needed” by a man who hates the person merlin truly is, not when the only friend who ever accepted merlin’s true self has just been killed.  he does not need to be told that arthur, who is alive solely because will is dead and who only seconds ago expressed exactly zero gratitude for that sacrifice, is the person to whom merlin owes his undying loyalty.  he does not need to be shuffled off to camelot as quickly as possible, as if it would be better for him to just rush forward and forget what happened here, as if what happened here didn’t matter.  

because what happened here did matter, whether hunith and arthur find it convenient to acknowledge or not.  i have to lay this out again, because what happened to merlin in ealdor is so much more important than anybody ever seems to realize - and i do understand that, i really do (because yes, it was just one episode for us) - but we have to look at it from merlin’s perspective, not the audience’s.

will wasn’t ‘one episode’ for merlin.  

i can’t say this enough times.  i cannot say this loudly enough.

merlin, at the beginning of this show, has only ever had ONE FRIEND.

most of us can’t even imagine something like that.  

but try.  TRY.  

merlin has only ever had one friend.  he’s only ever had one friend to love him.  he only had one friend for the first two decades of his life.  he’s only been in camelot for a couple of months; he’s only known these camelot people for a couple of months, and they don’t know his real self anyhow.  and now his ONLY FRIEND, the person he’s known all his life, the only friend he ever had who knew him for who he truly was, was just violently cut down before his very eyes, whilst saving a guy who can legally have merlin murdered for just existing.  and even though merlin and will spend the entirety of 1.10 having a painful, complicated argument, will still uses his last moments on earth to tell the biggest fucking whopper of his life, in order to shield merlin from harm, taking all of the danger and infamy and condemnation upon himself.  he dies with a lie on his lips.  he dies with merlin’s hand in his hair.  

and all the while, merlin knows that this would not have happened if he had just been willing to use his magic in the first place, instead of letting his fear of discovery prompt him into allowing his neighbors to offer themselves up for the slaughter in his place.

the avalanching double-whammy of grief and guilt that merlin is suddenly slammed with at the end of this episode is almost incomprehensible in scale.

i’ve talked about this before, but again, i think it’s something we don’t generally remember: losing will is the first time merlin has ever experienced personal bereavement.  and he doesn’t get to start out with a warm-up; he goes straight to the big leagues.  this is not some trifling thing.  this is a total implosion of merlin’s world as he knows it.  

when we think about the mark this episode leaves on merlin’s life, i don’t think most of us consider the magnitude of this event deeply enough.  losing will in this way is not some one-off thing that merlin just...gets over.  this is the most earth-shattering thing that has ever happened to him, at this point in time.  it is still one of the worst things that has ever happened to him, period, even years later.  the guilt never goes away.  

and the thing that’s unique about this particular trauma is that merlin has to manage it alone.  there are other tragedies in his life where we witness him receiving support/comfort from others - freya, lancelot, balinor (though of course there are aspects to these miseries that merlin has to keep secret from other people, as well) - but with will, merlin has to do everything on his own.  he can’t get one single moment of peace at will’s funeral.  his own mother, the only person who knows what really happened, can’t help him without making everything about arthur.  and merlin can’t tell anyone else what happened, not the truth of it, because doing so would squander the gift he’s been given - will’s lie is still protecting him, years later, from arthur and morgana both.  

merlin, at the end of 1.10, is forced to navigate this grief completely alone, in the silent secrecy of his own heart.  arthur is actively making it worse.  hunith is out here singing arthur’s praises.  and will is just like - he’s suddenly not part of the conversation anymore.  he doesn’t even register on anyone’s radar.

it truly is...incredible, for me, to watch hunith overhear arthur being legitimately terrible to both merlin and the guy who just died saving merlin AND arthur’s lives, and then to see her come over and start talking about how merlin belongs at arthur’s side, how much merlin needs to be there for him, how they’re two sides of the same coin.  meanwhile, the guy who literally just lied his life away to protect merlin’s secret and who NEVER made merlin feel like he had to hide who he was and who never had any problem with magic in the first place and never made merlin feel unsafe and never treated merlin like he was less of a human being just for existing -

- he’s just burning to ash there, and hunith doesn’t even acknowledge that, despite the fact that merlin is so visibly, intently, single-mindedly focused on that funeral pyre, and so clearly in distress and in pain and NEEDING somebody.  all she can talk about is merlin’s responsibility to arthur.  

the dissonance here is baffling.  hunith has known will forever.  she met arthur less than a week ago.  she barely knows him, and what she does know is that he thinks magic-users are dangerous/evil.  she saw him being a dick to her kid.  she knows her son is having the worst day of his life.  and she still doesn’t offer a single comforting word in reference to the person who just died protecting merlin’s secret, instead choosing to wax poetic about a man whose bigotry is what merlin needed protecting from in the first place.

that...is a hot mess.  the merlin-hunith-will dynamic is one of the few things in this show that reflects less-than-stellarly on hunith’s character, however much i love her.  and even though it all stems from an overwhelming desire to keep her son safe, it doesn’t make her choices any less damaging.  she sends merlin away specifically because she finds out that will knows about his secret.  she spends 1.10 analyzing and encouraging and dissecting merlin’s relationship with arthur, when merlin’s relationship with will is the one that desperately needs attention.  she’s proven wrong about will’s trustworthiness in the most stunning, powerful way possible, and then she never even acknowledges him, instead choosing to laud the dude who literally forces merlin to live in fear of execution.

she’s merlin’s mother.  she’s the only person in his life who knows anything about what will actually meant to him.  she is his only possible resource as he tries to weather a kind of devastation that defies description.  

and she, like arthur, just barrels right on ahead and makes everything about someone else.

the cinematography choices in this scene matter.  whenever arthur or hunith tries to talk to merlin, the camera is placed on the opposite side of the fire from them, meaning the flames are always in the foreground of the frame.  they are something we are required to see and look past before we can get to anything else in the scene.  and in terms of directorial/acting decisions - merlin doesn’t take his eyes off the pyre until the end of his conversation with hunith.  not once while talking to arthur does he look away from it.

the funeral pyre is always in the foreground of the shot, because it’s in the forefront of merlin’s mind.  that is where his focus is right now.  that is what is taking up all of his attention.  that is what is edging into the frame, eating up our entire field of view.  that is what he needs help with.

but he doesn’t get any such support.  the entire sequence ends up revolving around arthur.  will’s entire funeral is about arthur fucking pendragon.  arthur inserts himself so he can talk to merlin about how evil magic is, and then hunith inserts herself so she can talk to merlin about how great arthur is.  nobody ever stops to think that maybe merlin doesn’t want to talk to anybody right this second.  merlin’s entire ‘farewell’ to the only true friend he ever had in his life is completely swallowed up by the prince of camelot, and if that isn’t a metaphor for the rest of merlin’s life, then i don’t know what is.  

i know nobody needs to hear this, because very few people are invested in this kid at the same level of embarrassing detail as me, but here it is, anyway.  

yes, will is prickly.  he’s hard to get on with.  he’s angry.  he’s bitter and snappy and uncharitable, sometimes.

but you know what?  he has every reason to be like that.  

this kid has nobody.  his own best friend’s mother - who has known him all his life - doesn’t trust him and doesn’t respect him.  she is too afraid for her own son’s safety to give will any credit.  she sends merlin away to camelot, the most violently anti-magic place in the world, because apparently, will knowing about merlin’s secret would be even more dangerous than uther pendragon’s genocidal reign.

think about how that would feel.  to hear something like that about yourself.  to be somebody who is already so goddamn alone in the world, and to have your only friend vanish without so much as a ‘see you later,’ and then to be made to feel, however indirectly, like this is somehow your fault, like you’re the liability, like you’re the untrustworthy element here.  as if you, somehow, are more dangerous than a king who literally pays to have sorcerers trafficked to him in cages.

will has every right to be upset, all the time.  he has every reason to be angry, and bitter, and hurt, all the time.  to be thought so poorly of - to be held in such low esteem - when he hasn’t done anything wrong, when he hasn’t ever done anything to earn that kind of mistrust - and to have that same misplaced suspicion used to justify separating him from the only person in the world who gives a damn about him - if it were me, i would be constantly on the verge of screaming, all the time.

will has always been on merlin’s side, and he has never done anything to endanger him, and in the end he gives up everything to make sure merlin can stay safe and hidden and unhunted.  he shouldn’t have needed to prove his goodness, his constancy, his worth; not when he’s already kept merlin’s secret for who knows how many years, but even after he does do so, it doesn’t even matter.  arthur acknowledges him only to disparage sorcery.  hunith passes him over completely in favor of praising arthur, with no acknowledgment of the misjudgment she made.

i have said before that merlin tends to befriend people who have nobody, people who’ve been left behind by the rest of the world, people who’ve been made to feel that they aren’t worthy of love.  and will, merlin’s oldest friend, was the first of those many characters, and it is so heartbreaking to me that in this instance, the same kind of disinterested and careless attitude towards his worth that dogged him all his life is perpetuated and affirmed after his death.  ‘people are used to ignoring him,’ merlin tells arthur, and merlin is right - even when will is dead and burning, arthur only sees sorcery.  hunith, who we would expect to be more sympathetic, only sees arthur.

merlin is the only one who knows better.  merlin has always known better, and he loves will so much, but he is the only one, apparently, and honestly, after will dies?  nobody else even tries to understand.

to sum up:

hunith and arthur, for all that i love them, are both way out of line at the end of this episode.  

the legacy of this experience, for merlin, is that he spends the rest of his life processing this particular trauma alone.  and that is why i always, always have to keep will and ealdor in the back of my mind when i write for merlin in any capacity - because this event isn’t some simple stumbling block for him; it changes him forever.  it teaches him what he can and can’t expect from the people around him, and it solidifies how irrelevant his own needs are when viewed in comparison with arthur’s, even to people who barely even KNOW arthur; people who are supposed to put merlin first over everything.  it teaches merlin to bury his sorrow, and to wrestle with personal suffering in secret, because if things aren’t ultimately about arthur, then they aren’t important enough to be granted any significant amount of time for merlin to deal with.  merlin’s own grief, even at his best friend’s funeral, takes too long to resolve.  arthur walks away from the pyre, and it’s time for merlin to leave, too.  you’d better be going.

bottom line: i don’t care if other people think this whole ‘ooo, everybody wants merlin to be with arthur’ thing is wonderful or beautiful or dreamily romantic.  it isn’t.  it’s ugly, and it’s cruel, and it stripped merlin of his present identity and his future potential, one stolen moment at a time.

[katsukikitten]

WARNINGS 18+ BITCHES. NSFW COLLEGE AU. THIS LIVED IN MY HEAD RENT FREE SINCE @bakugotrashpanda POSTED THE DENKI GOOGLE DOC HEAD CANNONS. I kept thinking how fucking mortifying would it be if he read some of your smut aloud 🙃🙃 its spicy so comment ya thoughts on my crack fic.

Caffeine, you desperately needed caffeine if you were going to survive midterms. 

But you were too busy helping Denki and Mina work on their weak subjects to be able to get the much needed nectar. 

The three of you sit cramped in the bedroom you shared with Mina in the small three bedroom apartment. Trying to seal yourselves away from the rest of your boisterous roommates who argued over who's turn it was for the TV.  They must turn the altercation into something physical as you hear a loud pop, a string of tape and the SIXTH coffee table snap in half beneath someone's weight. Your jaw ticks as you wonder how any of them function in day to day life, let alone fucking college courses. 

Denki answers the same question wrong for the millionth time causing you to pinch the bridge of your nose. Between this deadline and the one of your hobby, you were beginning to lose patience. 

"Look, I'll send you both the google doc of the study guide I made last year." Quickly you unlock your phone and send them both the document in question. 

Only when Denki and Mina share a wide eyed look do you reevaluate what you sent. With shaking hands you look at your sent mail and when you see it was a smut collab piece for your hobby you freeze. 

Fuck 

Fuck fuck fuck. The two absolute worst people to have said piece of work had access to it, to the whole folder of the smutty, vile filth that was a multi chapter fic. 

For legal reasons you were obligated to die now. 

Still fear urges you to act. You snatch Mina's phone that sits inches shy of yours and delete both the access and folder just in time. But Denki has already risen. 

You lunge although, he sadly, is much faster than you and already out the door as Mina follows with a delighted smile on her lips. You give chase, screaming how you'll murder them as Denki clears his throat to realoud to the rest of your roommates who lounge in the living room. Bakugou lying on the main couch that Denki currently hides behind, Sero spread out on the love seat while Kirishima sits in the armchair closest to your door. Several empty bottles of alcohol lie dead on the floor beside the broken wood of the table. 

Molten embarrassment surges through your veins as your mouth goes dry, suddenly that embarrassment turns into undying rage. A simple leap will neutralize him and then you could beat his ass to hell and back for even THINKING of doing what he's about to fucking do.  

Kirishima, ever the mediator, stands to scoop you up in strong arms, keeping you held fast to his muscular and of fucking course, shirtless body. 

"Read aloud for the class!" Mina teases, encouraging the electric blonde.

"'It started with a weighted gaze, one you could feel burning into your skin no matter where you were. And when you would turn to look over your shoulder you would see him. His dark eyes fixated on you of all people, glaring from sun up to sun down. It was safe to say that he hated you. Little did you know how wrong you were'." Denki reads the work verbatim as you fight back tears in your eyes. Kirishima sighs sadly as his grip tightens around your waist. 

No one stops him, and somehow, someone muted the TV, although you were unsure if that happened before or after Denki burst from your room. You just know that Bakugou holds the remote.  

"You simp for 2D men?" Sero laughs as Denki continues to read, he's now just shy of the raunchy details. You're mortified, especially since the whole group compares this anime character to your hot headed crush more often than not. You claw at Kirishima's skin but he activates his quirk while his hopeless romantic ass gets caught up in the fiction. 

"Hush." Mina and Kirishima scold Sero, hanging onto every word as if he were reading a true and tragic love story 

"DENKI IF YOU CONTINUE… I SWEAR TO KAMISAMAAAA!" You scream while he smirks although a huge blush blooms on his face as he reads a head a few sentences. 

"Go on!" Mina snaps, Denki clears his throat while you avoid the searing heat from a vermillion gaze. 

You felt hot and helpless, having hoped to avoid Bakugou as often as you could because he somehow flustered you to the point you felt more like foe than friend. He was the red eyed cat, slinking in the grass while you, the meek mouse scurried in the brush. You try your best to shrink away in Kirishima's large arms. 

Your mind plunges you into the few times you shared allow with Bakugou, making dinner together, setting the table. Waiting to pick the movie while the rest of your group takes their time getting the take out from various restaurants, you would exhale the breath you didn't know you held when they returned. But in your head every scenario ended differently. 

More differently than you'd like to admit. A shy kiss, a searing kiss, you gasping out his name as you wore his hand as a necklace. He would taunt for you to speak louder while his hand squeezed. 

The things you had wanted to happen are being said aloud now. Denki flustered but he continues to read, Kirishima squeezing the air from you as his tipsy or drunk ass gets into what you've written. 

Tighter and tighter as Denki gets closer to reader's final orgasm and the MC's first of the night. The room spins, you whimper and whine softly from the rough nature of Kirishima's skin unused to his usual soft touch being so intense. 

"Y..you feel the coil in your stomach tighten, eyes rolling into the back of your head as his thick length slides over that damned spongy spot. Abusing your sopping hole and puffy clit as his thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier. You feel him twitch within you, the sensation of his aroused satisfaction sends you over the edge. Screaming and gasping out…" 

"Kirishima!" You breathlessly shout, all eyes turn to you as you pant in his arms. Struggling to push out of his vice grip, face flushed, eyes fluttering from both the embarrassment, hot memories and lack of air. 

Your outburst stirs something in everyone, but especially the ash blonde. His deft eyes assess the situation quickly, or as quickly as they can with a tipsy mind. He growls audibly as your mortified form is still pinned to a shocked Kirishima. Bakugou stands and everyone stays silent, he stalks towards you as you keep your eyes averted. 

"Oi. Hair for brains. You're suffocating her." His voice is dangerously dark, threatening even. Kirishima drops you instantly and before you can scurry to your room Bakugou wraps a deadly hand around your wrist. 

"Pikachu, Racoon eyes, Soy sauce, take shitty hair with you to get an apology dinner. Take my card and get all the good shit too." For a moment no one moves until a glowing red eye looks over a broad shoulder and the intoxicating smell of caramel begins to fill the room. Everyone rushes to get their things Mina grabs for her shoes and purse, Denki his jacket, Sero Bakugou's card and Kirishima a shirt. 

The four of them practically fight to get into the cold air of the open hall.

Bakugou watches you shake, his eyes narrow in distaste. 

"Little mouse." His voice causes you to jump, stomach knotting before your hair free falls. You cannot find the strength to answer. He turns you around, slamming you into the wall. The pictures and knickknacks rattle against the dry wall, you swallow quickly. 

Did he hate what you said that much, oh gods look at how he us glaring at you. 

Fuck, you fucked up. 

He wraps his hand tightly around your throat, coming close as he holds twin pulses, starving your brain of oxygen. Of sound choices. Instantly you feel yourself becoming wet as he takes a moment to undress you with his eyes. He places a harsh, head swimming kiss to your lips. Biting at your bottom lip for entrance to your mouth, forcing his tongue in. He is kissing you passionately enough your teeth gnash against his. Moaning into his mouth as your hands trail beneath his black shirt. Nails railing across his abs when he squeezes your ass with his free hand. He pulls away with a wolfish grin. 

"Is this what you wanted little slut? To practice what you wrote with me?" His voice is taunting, "Do you think of me as you're soaking wet, writing this filth. I bet you moan my name when your knuckle deep in yourself." 

Tears prick your eyes, eyelids fluttering from both his words and the lack of air. 

"Answer me." He growls, you whimper beneath him as you nod yes. 

"Good little mouse." He tilts your face to him, holding his intense gaze, "Now let's practice what you wrote." 

[morningflames]

a word of warning

well here’s a post i never thought i’d be making

it’s come to my attention that a Certain Someone is planning on making a comeback to WrA soon and it fills me with nothing short of dread. i spent the day yesterday warning people he terrorized and manipulated that this was happening. you know it’s bad when there’s a literal network of people who share an abuser that have remained in contact for years in the event this happened again.

i am not going to lie and say that making this post does not terrify me but i cannot in good conscience sit back and let him worm his way into the rp scene again and do what he did to me and at least half a dozen others all over again.

to summarize: tarcanus aka tarcanus frostborne is a manipulative, emotionally abusive and predatory individual that should be avoided at all costs.

i am the player behind lyrinel, a former officer of his and someone who was on the receiving end of nearly a years worth of abuse and manipulation. my experiences pale in comparison to those of others who dealt with him and came forward to me after i left his guild, and i cannot speak for anyone who does not feel comfortable coming forward. if you do want to let your voice be heard, feel free to reblog and add your own anecdotes.

my story below the cut.

tw: manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, coercion, grooming

i first joined coram populo in early 2014 after my best friend and fellow survivor (i will refer to her by her character’s name of thradia from here on out) joined the raid team in december of the previous year. we were both just looking for a social place to park our characters and maybe start role playing again, as we hadn’t had a guild or dedicated rp group in a while. things were fine and friendly for the first couple of months, though it’s worth noting that a large part of the office corps had just left or was in the process of leaving when thradia and i joined. we were both 18 at the time.

i made the mistake of reaching out to tarc in the spring, when i noticed him posting to his tumblr about how busy he was. i offered to be an IC assistant of sorts to his character and he was more than happy to toss me into an absolute whirlwind. we still didn’t know much about each other, but in the span of a couple weeks we went from casual contact in guild chat to immensely long (sometimes between 10 and 12 hours) skype calls, constant DMing, and an almost uninterrupted stream of conversation. i was struggling to finish high school at this time (spoiler: i failed to graduate) and found myself suddenly caught in an all-consuming relationship with this man and his guild. from the moment i woke up to the moment i finally hung up and crawled into bed, my time was taken up by tarc and the guild and the game.

i was promoted to officer less than five months after joining the guild. this was overwhelming for a number of reasons, chief among them being the fact that i had never been an officer in a guild like this before and i was very quickly escalated to tarc’s “inner circle.” this was a circle that he evidently didn’t even include his most senior officers in, as he didn’t seem to communicate with them to the extent or abundance that he did with me - and later, when she was ALSO promoted to officer, thradia. 

within a few weeks i found myself at the center of dozens of micro-confrontations and venting from tarc about other members of the guild, raid team, and even fellow officers. every time, i would tell him he needed to take it to his co-gm and talk it through with her. she, like him, was a grown woman with a lot more experience and better people skills than me, a teenager barely out of high school, but tarc insisted on beating me over the head with his frustrations and then proceeding to guilt me and tell me i was a terrible friend when i didn’t agree with him or expressed i was uncomfortable being in the center of a vent session that i felt was unwarranted. 

tarc was never wrong. he did not apologize. the words “i’m sorry” did not exist in his vocabulary, and if they did, they were almost always followed up with the word “but.” constantly he would be sending multiple messages to me or thradia while we were running events and raids for the guild, ranting about a few particular members that he disliked at the time regardless of how we felt about said members. thradia and i would both be reduced to tears and/or anxiety attacks by his outbursts that all but demanded we take his side even if we didn’t. his feelings and circumstances were paramount. everyone else’s were just inconveniences. 

tarc was always the victim. no matter what was going on, no matter who had instigated whatever vein of conversation we were on that had gone awry, he had a way of making you feel like utter shit until you grovelled for his forgiveness, which he rarely gave. instead he would move on without giving any closure or allowing you to discuss your feelings at length. if you tried, you were the insensitive one who he couldn’t go to with his “unfiltered emotions,” which was the entire purpose of his inner circle to hear him say it. i was not allowed to just be his friend or just be an officer, i had to be both and neither at the same time, and it still was not the right course of action. nothing ever was.

tarc was openly manipulative and antagonistic, always citing it as an “inside joke” when called on it. i opened up to him once about my father’s alcoholism and how i was uncomfortable with alcohol culture and being around drunk people. regardless, he would constantly call while drunk (or maybe he was pretending to be to get a rise out of me, i honestly do not know what was genuine and what was put on with him) and make me stay on the call with him for hours. when he was (allegedly) diagnosed with an inability to process certain alcohols that could be life threatening, he continued to drink (or claimed he was drinking) dangerous amounts, which lead to me begging him to stop as i feared for his life. one of the worst anxiety attacks i have ever had was over him endangering his health and me believing i was going to see a friend die. he knew how much this upset me and he did not stop. he held me as a captive audience to his self destruction (or the playacting of it) and let me cry and beg and plead with him to take care of himself.

tarc loves to promote a clean, “family friendly” persona online. he will go on and on about the positive atmosphere his guild provides and how progress and accepting he and his “safe spaces” are. as soon as you are inducted to his inner circle, however, you learn otherwise. he will gladly engage in sexually charged conversation with you, even if you are ten years younger than him as thradia and i were. we were both legal adults, yes, but just barely. i can’t count the inappropriate remarks and jokes made about us, our friends, and even minors all in the spirit of joking “what if” conversation. he has a history of making young LGBT+ people uncomfortable, making their sexualities and identities about him and how he can relate to them. 

tarc was the most two-faced and divisive guild leader i’ve ever seen. he would rant to me mercilessly about wanting to kick one of the junior officers and raid team members in private while never saying a word to their face or bringing it up with the co-gm. he would start schisms between people, telling each what they wanted to hear and encouraging both parties not to confront each other about it, allowing the resentment and distrust to grow as he fanned the flames on both sides. he wanted people to stay in the guild and continue to basically work for him while also putting him above anyone else in their friend circles. he told straight up lies to thradia and i, claiming one of us had said things about the other that we never did, driving a wedge and distrust between us.

tarc treats his guild(s) like a business. he is entirely capitalist-minded even in an MMORPG that people play for fun, churning out “content” and keeping up appearances like a machine. he treats his officers and guild members like employees, not people. any time irl would demand attention away from the game, forcing someone to miss or cancel an event, he would subtly guilt them about it until they apologized, even if it was a dire situation or a family emergency. 

when tarc wanted to start a wow roleplaying podcast, he approached me about cohosting. he wanted a female voice, and since i was out of school and had no job lined up due to not graduating i was the perfect candidate. i came on to narrate and research the lore segment of the looking for roleplay podcast, which was little more than me paraphrasing a wowwiki article, but i was held to a “professional” standard. i had to have my research done by a certain day, my recording done in advance, etc. 

the podcast was a spot of contention for several reasons, one being the mysterious emails tarc would allegedly receive about it. the podcast had a shared email account that all three of us could access and look at, but tarc claimed that people sent emails directly to him since “everything’s under his email.” he would use these strawman emails as indirect criticism of turwinkle and i, reading them aloud or typing up what they supposedly said but NEVER producing a real screenshot or address to verify them. i’m convinced he only did this as a way to make turwinkle and i feel badly and work harder “for the listeners” to appease things tarc didn’t like about our segments. he also insinuated he got inappropriate emails about me specifically at this account but, again, i was never allowed to see them with my own eyes, just hear about them secondhand, which is why i believe they did not exist.

around this time, tarc began recording conversations without mine or thradias consent. he would start recording random sections of calls and taunt us, playing back out-of-context lines and joking that he would make “podcast commercials” out of them. they were often embarrassing, personal, or just wildly out of context lines that we didn’t want played to the public, and i heard only a fraction of what he possibly recorded of me. i have no idea what kind of material he has of me and thradia that was recorded without us knowing or consenting. it felt like blackmail. it still does.

i internalized all of this. i thought this was normal. i thought he was an excellent guild leader and a role model for leadership. i had begun to treat world of fucking warcraft like a goddamn job and i thought that was fine. my life revolved around coddling and entertaining him, socializing and promoting and recruiting for the guild, raiding, running pvp entirely on my own, keeping up IC connections and attending events, recording for the podcast, all of it. i ate, breathed, and slept wow and coram. it was insane. i had been talked into having no boundaries for myself and my time, and any time i tried to correct that and build a boundary i was attacked for it until i backed down. i have never felt worse about myself than i did while i was in this guild. i trusted no one. i was worn thin.

i finally had enough early 2015. at this point this man was trying to get me to come live with him hundreds of miles from my family so that i could attend a technical school in his area. i am still 18. he was 28. i had been trying to step down from my position as an officer, citing if i was going to be LIVING WITH HIM that it was going to give me an unfair bias in my standing in the guild. this set him all the way off. he was planning a trip to atlantic city for me, himself, and thradia, who i had a ticket to visit for my birthday. he was getting frantic because he had been pursuing thradia for months, and i was no longer cooperating. 

when i threw this wrench in everything, our relationship devolved in the span of a few hours. within the day i left the guild on all of my characters and pulled myself out of all of his projects. within the month i had frantically faction changed several characters and eventually unsubscribed from the game for two years because i lived in fear of him. he had always alluded to “knowing people” who could hack and track IP addresses and kept tabs on everyone who visited his blogs and websites. i didn’t know what i thought he was going to do - all i knew was his thinly veiled brags and threats were at the forefront of my mind. i have played this game since 2006, but for the first time in my life i couldn’t enjoy it out of fear and exhaustion caused by him. he had ruined my favorite game in less than a year and made me paranoid about my entire online presence, to the point where this blog was abandoned for months before i turned it into what it is today. 

and the thing is, tarc’s not a creepy or abrasive guy when you first meet him. he’s funny and charismatic and outgoing. he loves to tell you about his world travels and show you pictures of him petting baby tigers at rescues in southeast asia and go on about these crazy winnings he would have in vegas. he’s larger than life - at least online. he came to visit me twice in the year that we knew each other. the first time was also the first time i had ever met thradia in person, and we had been friends for six years at that point. he has met my family, and that of several other members (both my age and older). no one ever questions why he’s there. no one ever thought it was odd that for a week he hung out with three teenage girls exclusively. 

this horrifies me to this day. 

thradia and i are still best friends. we compared notes and were sickened at how we were played against each other. slowly, i returned to the game. i reached out to people who had left or been on their way out when i first joined the guild, curious to see if there was a common thread. there was. everyone i spoke with had similar stories: being made to feel like shit, nothing they ever did for the guild was enough, they weren’t allowed to miss events or raids no matter what the reason, they were questioned and joked about inappropriately and made to feel uncomfortable and preyed upon, etc. i was not the only one. thradia was not the only one. at least half a dozen other former members and/or officers had these stories, and tarc just kept getting away with it.

he cannot keep getting away with it.

i am being open with this for the first time in six years because i don’t want to see it happen again. because i don’t want to know that, had i said something sooner, more people could have been protected. i was 18 when this was going on. i had no real world experience. i had no standard for how i should be treated, much less by someone almost ten years my senior and who claimed to be my friend. but he knew better. he should have had boundaries and space and lines he refused to cross. he did not. he crippled my trust in people for a very long time. i have only become comfortable playing wow on horde side again in the past year or so. i finally stopped looking over my shoulder, /who’ing him and his guild, avoiding rp hubs. but now i feel like i can’t do that anymore. the safety i have worked so hard to achieve for myself is now threatened.

i understand my experiences are mild in comparison to what some offenders on this server have done. but at the end of the day, this year was the worst year of my life. to this day, the skype ringtone literally triggers me because i associated it with him and his endless calls that i never knew what to expect from or how to get out of. i can’t look at certain parts of the game without feeling fear. for months i held my breath going online or logging into wow because i was waiting for him to pop up and start accusing me of things or trying to guilt me into coming back.

tarc ran coram populo, a guild that, as far as i know, still staggers along with a few members who can’t be bothered to leave. whether or not he’s planning to return there, i don’t know. he organizes and runs (from what i can tell) the azerothian trade federation (whatever the fuck that is). i don’t know what his plans are. i don’t know what his online presence looks or will look like when he comes crawling back. but i beseech you, do not give him the time of day. do not give him a platform, no matter how nice and “woke” he makes himself out to be. he lures you in with humanist ideals and then sucks the absolute life out of you- and that’s if he doesn’t want to pressure you into a relationship on top of it.

to tarc: if somehow you’re reading this, stay away from me. keep my name out of your mouth. i do not want an apology and a string of half-assed, gaslighting excuses. i have records of past conversations. i have screenshots. i know what you fucking did to me and to my friends. i do not want you back. i do not want you here. i do not want to share space with you. i want you to go away and never come back. 

you alone made it so hard to trust myself and other people. thradia and i both have had to seek therapy due to you. and now, you have the audacity to come riding back into the scene on a white horse, being self righteous about abuse and predatory behavior online, and have the utter gall to condemn behaviors you yourself emulated without apology or second thought. i know you think you’re a good guy. that’s what makes you so fucking dangerous. you genuinely don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, and if you do, you’ve buried it and squirreled it away and have covered it up to the point where you can turn any accusation back on the claimant. 

do not attempt to contact me. do not try to threaten or appease me. go back where you were. i am finally at home again, and you will not take that from me. go. away.

[teacupfulofstarshine]

pattonella part 9: virgil sweetheart PLEASE learn how to read the room i’m begging you

cw: mentions of injury, mentions of death, nightmare, anxiety attack, mild angst

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // read it on ao3!! 

“can i please be cleared to read books on my own now?” logan says. “because i love the sound of virgil’s voice, but i’m sure he has better things to be doing than sitting here reading to me at all hours.”

“shut up, there’s nowhere i’d rather be,” virgil says. he flushes immediately, but logan just smiles and reaches for his hand. remy rolls his eyes and peers into logan’s eye. 

“you were nearly killed by a horse, prince logan, i think you can afford to relax just a little.” logan huffs, sounding very much like a small child, and virgil smiles. “still, it’s been about a week . . . i suppose i can clear you. but no strenuous activity, and the second you start feeling any pain or discomfort or anything out of the ordinary you come and tell me, you understand?” 

“crystal clear,” logan says, sitting up a little too fast and wincing. remy glares suspiciously at him, but doesn’t offer any additional commentary. “i am looking forward to the ability to walk around without you two constantly hovering over me as though i am made of spun glass.” 

“maybe if you would stop running into danger,” remy mutters. he reaches out and ruffles logan’s hair softly, and the prince doesn’t immediately bat his hand away. “i’m still sending healing potions with your meals, and you will drink them all.” 

“yes, mother,” logan huffs playfully. remy rolls his eyes again and flounces out of the room. virgil has never seen a real human flounce before, but there truly is no other word to describe what remy is doing. 

“i bet you’re happy to be off bed rest,” virgil says. 

“ecstatic,” logan sighs. virgil stifles a yawn behind his fist, but logan immediately picks up on it. “what was that?”

“uh . . . a yawn?” 

“why are you yawning? has your sleep not been optimal?”

“not really . . .”

“why has it been -” logan’s eyes widen in recognition, and he frowns. “oh . . . i - i apologize, virgil.”

“why?”

“you have been awake because you were taking care of me. you have been foregoing sleep and tending to your own health because you have been so concerned for mine. i am so sorry, virgil, i did not mean to make you think that you had to -”

“shut up,” virgil interrupts. “you honestly think i would have been doing that shit if i didn’t care about you? if i didn’t give a fuck i would have fucked off and let someone else do it. i lo - i - um - i care about you a lot.” 

logan looks at him, hair adorably ruffled, eyes wide and pretty, face flushed pink from being buried under mountains of thick, warm blankets in the sunshine, and virgil immediately shoves a pillow into logan’s face to cover his massive blush. “shut up!” 

logan laughs softly, putting the pillow on the floor, and reaches out to take virgil’s hand. virgil huffs irritably, but he lets logan take it. “come and lay down, virgil. you are clearly exhausted. you must rest. you have dedicated your entire life this past week or so to caring for me, and that cannot be easy.” 

“it’s not work,” virgil says, remembering an old sappy book he’d read once. “not to me. not if it is you.” 

“i know,” logan says softly, “but you are tired. sleep, my dear. please? for me?” 

logan gently tugs on virgil’s hand, virtually no force behind it, and virgil topples onto the bed. he shuffles around, keeping his face pushed into the duvet, and manages to settle laying on his side, staring into logan’s eyes. this close, he can see all the freckles that cluster around logan’s nose and eyes. 

“you have stars on your ceiling,” virgil says, “and they’re on your face, too.” logan’s face turns a little pinker, and he smiles, reaching up to tuck a curl behind virgil’s ear. 

“you’re not sleeping,” he says. 

“how can i sleep when i’m looking at you?” virgil says. he bites his lip immediately, he can’t believe he said something so sappy and gay to the prince, but logan smiles and gently drags his thumb across virgil’s mouth. 

“don’t bite your lips,” he murmurs. “they’re so soft. i love to kiss them.” he leans forward and gently pushes his mouth against virgil’s, and virgil closes his eyes and exhales into the kiss. 

“here,” logan hums, carding his hand through virgil’s hair. virgil snuggles up to his chest, draping an arm over logan’s hips as he slots his legs in between his. “when i was small, before -” his chest hitches slightly under virgil’s ear. “- before my mother died, she would sing to me, and thomas used to sing it for roman and i. perhaps it will help you. i can put no magic in my voice, but i can sing.” 

“whatever you want,” virgil murmurs. “i’m sure your voice is beautiful.” 

logan takes a few deep breaths, inhales, and begins to sing. “A naeoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth Mise rid' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan . . .” 

virgil is so taken with the beauty of logan’s rich voice that he isn’t sure how he manages to fall asleep at all. 

*~*~*~*~*

everything is black, and suddenly remy appears, shining a small light into logan’s eyes to assess the severity of his concussion. past. 

everything is black, and suddenly logan appears, stroking his hand through virgil’s hair, mouth open, eyes half-shut as he sings. present. 

everything is black, and suddenly roman appears, sword raised in front of his chest, blocking one, two, three blows before an arrow pierces his shoulder, his chest, his stomach, his neck. 

future.

*~*~*~*~*

logan is half-asleep when virgil bolts upright, eyes flaring purple, screaming. “virgil -”

“something is wrong, something is wrong with roman!” virgil shrieks, voice warped and distorted and strange. logan feels his heart turn to ice and drop into his stomach. 

“what is wrong with my brother?” 

“i had a vision, he was fighting, he got pierced by arrows and he went down and something is going W R O N G logan!” 

before logan can stop him, virgil is on his feet, scrambling out of bed so fast he almost faceplants onto the ground. he’s out the door before logan can stop him, but he’s on his feet almost immediately to chase him. 

*~*~*~*~*

“are you sure this is a good idea?” claire says. her hands are clasped behind her back as she studies the map roman has spread out on the table. it’s covered in red x’s and dotted lines, surrounded with candles, with a dagger sticking out of a particular clump of trees. 

“we know that’s where they’re hiding,” roman says. “they won’t attack this village as long as we’re here, they’ll wait until we decide to ‘abandon’ these people and then they’ll raze it to the ground. we have to strike at the root of this issue, and that means attacking their hideout. we ride at dawn.” 

“prince roman,” claire says, “you know that i am your most loyal advisor. i would request permission to speak freely.” 

“granted, claire, always granted.” 

“prince roman, i think this is foolish. they let us find that base easily, too easily. i suspect it is a trap.” 

“they’re probably setting one,” roman sighs, pushing a hand through his sweaty hair. “but what do you want me to do? not attack? we know that they’re there, we know that they’re planning something!” 

“wait a day or two,” claire says. “take some time to plan a strategy. send a scout to see if there are any obvious traps that we can plan for. we have to play this smart so that we don’t end up losing soldiers.” 

“so we don’t end up losing me, you mean.”

“you are the prince of our kingdom, prince roman. you have two brothers waiting for you at home, not to mention the newly-discovered lord sanders. we cannot risk bringing you home as a corpse.” 

“you don’t have to coddle me, claire, i’m not made of glass!” 

“i never suggested as much, prince roman,” claire says coolly. “i am merely reiterating that you should remember that you cannot throw yourself recklessly into danger with no consideration of those waiting for you at home. i will leave you to your thoughts. should you choose to march in the morning, we will of course support you, but i suggest you reconsider this plan.” 

she ducks out of the tent, and roman sighs, running his fingers over the depiction of the sanders manor in the corner of the map. “patton . . . i want to come home to you . . . but i have to free these people. how do i balance this?” 

he pulls the dagger out of the map and twirls it around in his hands. he has a lot of thinking to do.

*~*~*~*~*

“i’m not sure this is okay for me to do,” thomas says, looking hesitantly at the dais. the king’s throne stands tall and regal, with the queen’s throne smaller but no less regal beside it. 

“you are the crown prince,” joan, the advisor beside him, says. “it is your right.” they hold out a small velvet pillow with the circlet of the crown prince resting on it, opal gleaming rainbow in the morning sunlight. 

“i’m not the crown prince,” thomas protests. “roman and logan aren’t married yet, i can’t legally be named the crown prince, and i’m not allowed to wear that or - or sit on the throne, or do any of this!” 

joan sets the crown on the dais and reaches out to gently take his hand. “prince thomas . . .”

“dad is still alive,” thomas says, eyes watering. “he’s weak, and he’s sick, but he’s not dead yet, i’m not - i don’t have to replace him yet . . .”

“i’m sorry, prince thomas,” joan murmurs. “i didn’t realize that it would affect you like that, i -”

“it’s not your fault,” thomas sniffles, wiping at his eyes. “i know you guys don’t think about it like that, but - but it’s my dad, you know? i know the kingdom is going to lose its leader soon, but - but i’m gonna lose my dad, you know?” 

joan nods, squeezing his hand and offering a handkerchief from their pocket. thomas takes it, dabbing at his face. “thank you, joan.”

“of course, prince thomas. you can stand on the dais if you want, since you still have to receive -” 

the door to the throne room slams open, wood ringing against stone, and thomas whirls around. before he can even reach for the hidden dagger he carries on his person always, before joan can step in front of him, virgil is speeding across the room. there are two guards behind him, trying to catch him, but virgil is outpacing them rapidly. 

“virgil?”

once he gets closer, thomas gasps, taking in details. his hair is unkempt, his clothes are askew, and his eyes are glowing solid purple. “crown prince thomas,” he says, and thomas winces at the distortion of his voice. “i have had a vision that must be brought to your attention immediately.”

“you can see the future?” joan gasps. 

“what did you see?” thomas asks. 

“prince roman is in danger,” virgil says. “there will be an attack, and he will be killed by arrows. we must aid him immediately.” 

there’s a watery noise from behind virgil, and he spins around to see patton standing behind him pressing his hands over his mouth. “roman - roman is going to die?” 

the purple in his eyes flickers away. “wh - patty?” 

“roman is going to die?” patton repeats, hurrying forward and grabbing virgil’s hands. 

“not necessarily,” virgil says, putting a hand to his head and beginning to sag forward against patton. “i - the vision showed him dying, but it also showed that giant horse killing logan a week or so ago, and he’s still alive.”

“we have a chance to stop it?” thomas says. virgil turns to look at him. 

“i - yes, your highness, i think there is a chance to save him.” 

thomas nods. “are you sufficiently prepared to travel?” 

“i can be in an hour at the least.”

“good. take a party of guards and go after roman.”

“i’m coming too,” logan says, striding through the doors. “remy cleared me from my concussion earlier, i’m going.”

“me too!” patton says. “i’m going with you, if roman is in trouble i have to help!” 

“i can’t risk you both,” thomas starts, but logan glares at him. 

“are you telling me that if father was well and running the kingdom, you wouldn’t be grabbing a sword and riding after him?” thomas winces, and logan lifts his chin victoriously. “exactly. i am going with virgil, and so is patton. roman is worth the risk.” 

thomas exhales. “go and pack, then. meet me here in an hour with a plan.” logan nods, whirls around, and hurries out of the room with virgil and patton on his heels. thomas hums, turning to joan. “i need you to bring me a specific volume of the history of the kingdom from the library.”

“of course, your highness. may i ask what for?” 

“i think i just found logan’s loophole.” 

[jetsetlife138]

prompt no. 14,15, and 19 for Sadistic/Obsessive! Alastor x Fem!Reader?

14) “I’m gonna end up breaking your little heart in two.”

15) “I still remember the way you tasted.”

19) “This is my nightmare.”

Pairing: Sadistic / Obsessive!Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Touching, Cannibalism

You stirred uncomfortably, slowly starting to regain consciousness. You mind was groggy and clouded with confusion as you tried to remember where you were. Swallowing hard, you inhaled deeply before prying your eyes open where you were greeted by an unwelcoming bright light. It was then you realized that you were sprawled out on a soft surface, restricted by restraints. 

Allowing your eyes to adjust, you discovered that you were in a bedroom and you had been confined to a bed. There didn’t appear to be any windows; only a single door, which was closed.Weakly, you pulled at the ropes binding you to the bedposts to no avail. Glancing down at your body, you were shocked to discover that you were no longer in your own clothes, but had been dressed in a loose fitting t-shirt and shorts. Holy shit. You had been kidnapped. In Hell. To be fair, you should have known that this could be a possibility. After all, you were in Hell. Pretty much anything was legal, including kidnapping. But to think that it would ever happen to you was unfathomable. 

 A loud knock at the door startled you. “Hello! Darling? Are you awake?”

 Without a reply, your captor entered the room. Aaaaand, fuck. It was the Radio Demon… or Alastor, as very few knew him as. One of the most powerful beings that Hell had ever seen. Your hopes in getting out of here alive had just been eradicated. “Good morning!” he beamed when he saw that you were finally cognizant. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was actually morning considering there weren’t any windows and you had been knocked out for an unknown amount of time.The demon walked across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. You swallowed hard as you noticed the hungry look stirring in his blood-red eyes. Alastor bit his bottom lip as he gazed over your body before stretching out his arm to reach under your loose t-shirt to stroke your stomach with his sharp nails. Your breath hitched as you flinched away from the unexpected contact with Alastor’s fingers.

Alastor’s seemingly permanent smile widened as he enjoyed the feeling of your skin underneath the pads of his fingers. “Have a nice nap?” he asked gently, still raking his nails lightly across your tummy. It was difficult for the demon to focus considering he was absolutely mesmerized by your beauty. He could hardly believe that after all this time, he was freely touching the girl he adored so much. He tilted his head subtly, concentrating on the way your chest slowly rose and fell with each nervous breath. 

Alastor continued to stare at you, waiting for any kind of response and sighed when you failed to speak. “You know, I’d appreciate it if you would talk to me, sweetheart. I know you’re confused right now, but that’s no reason to be rude.”

You didn’t know what you could possibly say. It felt as though anything you said would make your situation worse. Alastor was clearly mentally unstable and dangerous. Trying to keep your voice steady, you addressed him cautiously. “I’m sorry,” you croaked out, voice still groggy from drowsiness. “I just… um… I don’t understand why I’m here. I’m sure people are wondering where I am. They’re going to be looking for me.”

 Alastor met your assumption with a smirk and replied, “Oh, darling, don’t think about that right now. You and I are the only two creatures that exist within the nine Circles of Hell, and that’s how it’s going to be for a while.”

 “H-how long is a while?”

Without altering his expression or faltering in his grin,Alastor’s feather-light touches across your belly turned painful as he dug his nails into the soft, sensitive flesh. You hissed in pain while Alastor hastily removed his hand, clearly unhappy.

 “Is that going to be a problem?” he asked in a sickly sweet voice, contradictory to his smile. 

Swallowing hard, you started to shake involuntarily. You had been doing so well in keeping your stress and panic under control, but with the way that Alastor was looking at you, you felt your strength fading. You couldn’t bring yourself to reply in fear of how your answer might trigger Alastor further.

Alastor wasn’t going to let that slide. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be infatuated with someone, my dear?” he asked his object of affection with a challenging stare. His red eyes were blazing and you wanted to sink lower into the bed to get as much distance between yourself and Alastor’s frightening demeanor as possible.

In a falsely sweet voice, Alastor continued, “No? Allow me to enlighten you. It’s like suffocating. Your love for this creature is so great that it often feels like you cannot breathe. You are utterly unable to think about anything else and every decision you make is based on them. It can wreck someone such as myself, causing us to do terrible things.” 

Now panicking, you attempted to sputter out an apology. “I-I’m sorry, s-sir. I don’t-”

 “No, sweetheart, you’re not,” Alastor snapped, cutting you off. “But you will be.”

Your shaking became more prevalent as Alastor got up from the bed. It was a struggle to try and keep your panicked breathing under control but you knew that there was really no use in trying to put on a brave face. You were terrified.

“I’m gonna end up breaking your little heart in two,” Alastor promised, a sinister gleam in his eyes. 

The demon then took it upon himself to lift up and straddle your hips. “So, my darling… are you ready to begin?” 

 You hesitated before replying, “B-begin what?”“I still remember the way you tasted…” Alastor thought aloud to himself, ignoring your question as he licked his lips at a distant memory.Fighting back tears, you asked. “What the hell are you talking about?” Snapping out of his daze, Alastor’s eyes flickered to your own. “You don’t recall, do you?” he questioned. Shaking your head in response, you were nervous to hear what he had remembered that you hadn’t. “When you first arrived here in Hell, you were a bloodied mess,” he began as he gripped the collar of your shirt in his hands. “I couldn’t help myself. You smelled so divine. I needed your blood inside of me.” 

The Radio Demon then pulled on the fabric of your shirt, ripping it down the middle to expose your chest. You yelped at the sudden aggressive action, not expecting that at all. Licking his lips with longing, Alastor took a moment to allow his eyes to wander over your skin. It was getting more and more difficult to keep himself in check with you so easily accessible.

 “Alastor, please,” you begged, thinking of anything that you could possibly say to dissuade Alastor from whatever it was that he had planned. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Hush now, darling. We’re just getting started,” Alastor insisted.

 Keeping true to his promise, without warning, Alastor then leaned in and bit down directly over your collarbone. You shuddered violently, but you didn’t scream. Alastor would have praised your self-control had he not been so mesmerized by your blood filling his mouth and seeping down onto the bed. Lifting slightly, he ran his tongue over the wound, making you hiss in pain when he dug the tip of his tongue into the bleeding flesh.

For the next fifteen minutes, Alastor continued to gnaw at your skin, licking and kissing over the wounds, completely enthralled with your pain tolerance and with the way you tasted. Alastor had never done anything like this before and he was so moved that he was able to share this special connection with you.

Though it was difficult, you tried as hard as you could to concentrate on anything else but the pain. There was nothing else that you could do. With every new bite ripping into your flesh, you would involuntarily convulse with the occasional “fuck” and “shit” falling from your lips at the agonizing intrusion. You were basically being eaten alive slowly and meticulously by a psychopath and you tried everything he could to distract yourself and think of anything else but the pain.

Your plan worked for awhile until you noticed Alastor making his way down to your thighs and started running his fingers over your hips. Snapping your attention back to the Radio Demon, you looked down with pleading eyes, not at all liking the idea of Alastor being near your vagina with those sharp teeth.

Alastor kneeled at the edge of the bed, his fingers ghosting over your legs, looking over his work. He had made sure not to make the bites too deep. He didn’t want to scar his obsession’s perfect body. He simply wanted to make them deep enough to show you how painful love can be and how deeply his own love ran for you.

“Alastor, please don’t do this. I’ll do whatever you want… just… Please, don’t. This is my nightmare…” The last part was meant more for yourself than for him, but you couldn’t help but speak your mind at a time like this.

Though it was difficult, you tried to keep from grimacing when Alastor crawled back up and leaned in to place a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth before shimmying down your torso and latching his fingers into the top of your shorts, tugging at them slightly. Your entire body tensed as you glanced down at Alastor, terror overcoming you. “W-what are you doing?”

 Alastor’s grin grew to an unnatural length as he met your horrified expression with an eager one of his own. “I’m going to eat you out, my dear.”

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Marco’s Home for Lost Boys

Read on AO3 - Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Tagging:

@lfh1226-linda

Chapter 5: Grief

Summary:

“I’m in. Let’s go get your dad’s stuff back.”

“Em, maybe this is a bad idea.”

“Bullshit, if you can do it, I can do it. Besides, I asked to do something exciting.”

Notes:

Warning for Character Death and also violence.

6 months later

“Come on Ems, one more?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me drunk,” she giggled.

“Only if it’s working” Neal slides the glass toward her.

Her laugh was sloppy and loud, a snort escaping her nose.

“One more!”

She tosses the shot glass back as the warm liquid burns down her throat.

“You are so hot.” His hands are on her hips, pulling her toward him. She drinks in his lips, tasting of whiskey and peanuts.

As if on cue, her phone begins buzzing on the table beside them.

“You probably shouldn’t answer that in your condition, Ems.”

“Hello Captain!” She giggles into the phone.

“Swan, you need to come home.”

“Well, I’m quite busy right now sir…”

“Emma...”

“And honestly I don’t feel like coming home so I don’t quite think I…”

“Emma, it’s Marco. He had a heart attack. They did everything they could, but…”

Emma feels like the whole world has started humming in her ears, her knees buckle under her, phone slipping from her hand onto the table.

She can’t comprehend what Neal is saying on the phone to Killian before he hangs up and picks her up off the floor.

“Ems, Jones is going to come pick you up. Lets just sit on the couch until he gets here. I’ll go get you some water.”

This can’t be happening. Marco can’t be dead. Not her Papa.

She’s an orphan again.

~

Neal opens the front door on the second knock and he immediately smells the whiskey on the boy’s breath. Killian pushes past him to find Emma sitting on the couch, staring at her feet, a glass in her hand.

He grabs the glass and sniffs it to find it is water, but she smells like she rolled in a barrel of booze.

“Underage drinking? Bad form, Cassidy.” He scowls at Neal standing in the doorway.

“Save the lecture Jones, we were just having a good time.”

He looks down at Emma, “Swan, you alright? Can you walk? We gotta go.”

She stares straight ahead, and he kneels so that his eyes meet hers. “Hey,” her eyes meet his. “let’s go home ok?”

She blinks, recognizing him for the first time since he walked into the room.

“He’s gone.” She whispers and his heart breaks for the second time that evening.

“I know, love. Can you stand?” His hands cup her elbows as he stands and pulls her with him. She wobbles on her legs and leans into his chest.

“Seems like a real good time you two were having.” He peers over at Neal. “We’ll talk about this another time.”

He ushers Emma outside and opens the door to David’s truck, helping her into the seat.

Climbing into the truck himself he sighs and looks over at her. “I’ll try and cover with your brothers as best I can, but you’re gonna need to shower when you get home to wash the smell of alcohol off.”

~

The hot water numbed her face, standing under the stream in the shower. Killian had moved her quickly through the house and past her brothers before they even got the chance to console her or realize that she was anything besides utterly broken with grief.

The next few days went by in a blur.

The house was buzzing with activity with Arthur and August returning from college for the funeral. Robin shut down his bar for the week to be at home and help with the arrangements.

It was weird having so many people at home. Even though she knew it was only temporary.

Soon Arthur and August would go back to Boston and Seattle, Robin would go back to working 7 days a week at the “The Sleeping Lion”, David was on his way to building a life with Mary Margaret and she was sure overheard the two of them whispering about him moving out in the near future.

Killian was hardly around anymore either. He began working as a Boat Captain on the “Jolly Roger”, a tourist attraction where you got to sail with pirates on a real pirate ship, guyliner and leather included. But even when he wasn’t working, he was always out doing “something”.

It would just be Will and her. They had just started their senior year in high school. She was a couple months to her 17th birthday. What was she going to do now as everyone was leaving her?

She did everything she could during those few days to ignore the shouting in her brain. She packed up boxes in her father’s room, cooked dinner for her brothers, cleaned up the messes they left behind while they ran here and there trying to prepare for their father’s funeral.

She did everything, except cry. No matter what she did, the tears wouldn’t come.

Even as she stood in front of her Papa’s gravestone, rain coming down and bouncing off the freshly moved ground, David’s arm wrapped tightly around her, she found no tears.

Once they returned home that evening, she was starting to feel like she was suffocating. She wanted to yell at the next person who apologized for her loss and asked her how she was doing.

I’m fine.

“Swan, you should eat something.”

“I ate.”

“Swan.” She looked up into his narrowed blue orbs. “I happen to know you have not eaten anything since breakfast, and that was a piece of toast.”

“Geez, are you keeping a tracker or something? I’m sure I ate today.” She tried to push past him, but he held firm and his hand wrapped around her arm.

“Emma, I know there is a lot going on in that pretty little head of yours, but you need food if you wish to remain on your feet.”

She reached over and grabbed a cracker and cheese off the tray in front of them and shoved it in her mouth. “Happy now?”

He rolled his eyes but allowed her to move past him toward her room, slamming the door behind her.

Run.

E. You busy? I need a drink!

She clicked her fingernails on her phone waiting for the response which came quickly.

N: Come on over.

Emma grabbed her jacket, lifted the window upward and jumped to the ground outside. She was across town in her yellow bug in no time and running up the stairs to Neal’s home.

After the second knock on the door, it opened with Neal’s father standing in the frame.

“Emma, I’m so very sorry about your father.”

Emma smiled weakly. “Um thanks, Mr. Gold.”

“Please come in, my son said you would be stopping by.”

Neal appeared behind him and Emma stepped into the house.

“Please ensure you and Ms. Swan are responsible.” He nodded at his son and pulled on his jacket. “I apologize but I have business to attend to and cannot stay to entertain.”

“Oh well, it was nice seeing you.”

When the door closed, she turned toward Neal. “Um is he cool with me being here while he’s gone?”

Neal laughed. “Yeah, he even gave me a nice bottle of whiskey for us to share.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah, he can be cool sometimes. So, what do you say we crack this thing open?”

Emma was finally feeling a bit less claustrophobic being in Neal’s house. No one to mill about or force food upon her. In fact, Neal hadn’t even asked her how she was doing.

She grabbed the glass from his hand and quickly tipped her head back, feeling the warmth hit her stomach immediately. She grabbed the glass and poured a second shot.

“Woah, not messing around.”

“I just need to drink and not have people ask me how I am.” She sighed.

“Ah feeling suffocated then?”

“How do people think I’m doing?” She rolls her eyes. “Oh, I’m just fine, I’m great, who needs a father anyhow, I’ve done it without one before.” She parroted.

“Woah, Emma.”

“Don’t, Neal. I don’t need someone to comfort me. Just someone to pour the damn drinks.”

“I can do a lot more than pour your drinks.” His hand lands on her thigh.

She stands up and starts pacing the room, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and taking a swig. “I want to do something exciting.”

“Well, I was just trying to do something exciting but you’re now over there and I’m still sitting here.”

“Not sexual. Exciting, dangerous. Something that reminds you that you are alive.”

“Ok I think you’ve had enough to drink.” He tries to take the bottle, but Emma yanks it away from him.

“I’m serious. I just want to feel like I’m still here.”

“Well, I do have to do an errand tonight that might fit in that category.”

“Errand? How does that even fit in the category of exciting.”

“Well, it’s not exactly a… shall we say legal errand.”

Emma sits down next to him wide eyed. “Neal what are you talking about?”

“Never mind, I shouldn’t have said anything.���

She takes another long drink of the whiskey. Why would Neal be doing something illegal?

“What exactly is this errand for?”

“Ems, I shouldn’t talk about it.”

“No, I want to know. Maybe I’m interested.”

“That’s the thing Em, you are not the type to be interested in this sort of thing.”

“Hey, I can be the type.”

“That’s the whiskey speaking.” He pauses. “Look, it’s not a big deal, I just have to pick something up that was taken from my dad.”

She stares at him. “Oh my God someone stole something from the pawn shop?”

He nods. “Uh yeah, something like that. And my dad asked me to get it back for him.”

“Well, if it belongs to your dad, then whoever took it should just give it back.”

“Exactly but well, they don’t actually want to give it back, so I have to kind of…” He looks at his feet, as if he doesn’t want to proceed. “I gotta go steal it, Em.”

Shit.

Her phone buzzes and she looks to see that she has missed a lot of messages.

K: Everyone is going to bed.

Will: Are you going to sleep all the bloody time now?

K: Are you alright in there?

David: I know you are taking this hard Princess but know that we are here when you want to talk.

Will: I was going to come talk to you, but Killian is being an arse and told me to leave you alone. Just checking to see how you are doing. I’ll talk to you in the morning.

K: I guess you aren’t coming out of your room anytime soon so...

K: Goodnight, Swan!

She takes another long swig. “I’m in. Let’s go get your dad’s stuff back.”

“Em, maybe this is a bad idea.”

“Bullshit, if you can do it, I can do it. Besides, I asked to do something exciting.”

“Ok but, you can’t tell anyone we did this ok?”

“Well duh.” She jumps off the couch and puts the whiskey down. “So, do we wear all black or?”

He laughs, digging into a small cabinet and putting something in his jacket pocket. “Nah what you are wearing is fine.”

She frowns. “Oh bummer.”

He grabs a black beanie from the cabinet and tosses it to her. “Fine, wear this so your hair doesn’t stand out so brightly. It can be your disguise.”

She giggles and pulls the beanie on, not sure exactly what the hell she is getting into. But she needs this. She needs to feel like this isn’t the end of her. That she is still breathing, and life goes on.

~

He can’t stop tossing and turning in his bed. His mind won’t turn off. It’s been a whirlwind for the last week since their father had passed. Everyone had stayed busy to ensure that all the tasks were completed.

Grief was tricky.

Everyone had a way of coping with it. Robin and Arthur had thrown themselves into work by getting all the details and chores done, August was slowly drowning himself in a bottle, David chose to drown in love by spending every moment with his girlfriend, and Will had cried until there was nothing left. He had been taking it hard after having found his father on the floor of the kitchen.

For Emma, she seemed to choose avoidance. He had barely seen the girl cry since their father’s passing.

Killian found that for him, grief was about figuring out your next move. Where it would take you from that exact moment in time.

And his next move was going to take money and a fair share of it if he was going to get his own place with Milah and ever have hopes of buying that ship.

He was already working 5 times a week at the harbor as a bloody pirate captain on the “Jolly Roger”. He got to wear some authentic leather pirate gear and he had to admit he looked dashing in the guyliner. But the job wasn’t going to get him the ship he needed to get out of here.

So, he got desperate.

He knew working as bag man on the side for Gold wasn’t exactly a hero move. Tossing his lot in with Gold was suicide to many who had done so before him. But Gold paid him double what he was making on the Jolly and offered him an extra bonus a few times to muscle some blokes who had refused to pay what they owed Gold. Gold was a private man, so his services had stayed out of the public eye which was exactly how Killian had wanted it.

Besides, as soon as he had the money he needed, he was done with Gold. He wasn’t proud of what he was doing, but it was a means to an end. And he would leave this town as soon as he had the money he needed anyway.

Everything he had planned was moving along except for one piece.

Emma.

Emma had gotten herself involved with Gold’s son, Neal.

Killian needed to make sure she got away from him before he left town. Neal was trouble. He was cocky, reckless, and selfish. Traits that were only going to get Emma hurt.

But he didn’t know how to tell Emma the truth about Neal without exposing himself to his own lies.

He looked over at the clock, 1:15am.

He groaned and pushed his covers off, sitting up on the bed and rubbing his eyes.

Maybe he could drown himself with that bottle for a little bit. Maybe it would allow him to find sleep.

Tugging on his boxers, he quietly padded through the house and opened the cupboard door, pulling the bottle of rum from the shelf.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Killian almost dropped the bottle to the ground at the sound of David’s voice.

“Geez, mate, not a good idea to sneak up on a man in the dark.” He stepped forward to see David sitting in a chair by the fireplace, a drink in his hand.

“Guess we had the same idea.” He held up his glass, the dark amber liquid swirling at the bottom.

“Aye.” Killian took the seat opposite with his own glass in hand, taking a sip of the liquid.

“Can’t believe he’s gone.” He sighed.

“What will become of this place?” David continued. “Everyone will be graduated adults next year.”

Killian’s raised his brow. “You really think Will is going to graduate?”

David laughed. “We’ll get him there.”

“Aye.” He nodded and then took another drink.

“We should probably talk about that though. You know, Will and Emma. They are both almost 17. Old enough that they will let them still live here, but I guess one of us will need to be their guardian until they graduate.”

“Hadn’t thought of that, but I haven’t the means to move out yet anyway.”

“Yeah, I was actually going to talk to everyone about this before Marco passed but,” He paused. “I had planned to move out in a month. I’m going to start working at the station for Sheriff Graham and they offered me a place close by in town.”

“Oh, wow that’s great news, Dave.”

“It was. But now.”

“No, you should still stay on your plan. Besides, I know you and Mary Margaret would love some privacy now and then.”

“Well, there is that.” He smirked.

“I’m happy for you, mate. You deserve happiness.”

“So, do you brother.”

He swirled his glass before taking another sip. “I’m a pirate captain five days a week, what more could I ask for?”

David stood to refill his glass. “You make a good point there…” he paused at the window. “Did Emma go out?”

“No, she’s where I left her hours ago, brooding in her room.”

“No, she’s not.” He turned, gesturing to the window. “Bug’s gone.”

~

This was the dumbest idea she had ever had.

Emma’s hands were numb from standing in the cold. Neal was hunched over the door, with small tools sticking into the lock as he jiggled them, but nothing was opening the door.

“Do you even know what you are doing?”

“Of course, I do, but I can’t do it with you yammering in my ear.”

“It’s just that you’ve been at this for a while and the door is still closed. I thought the point of this mission was for us to get inside.”

“Ok smart ass, you think you can better?”

She laughed. “Um no. I mean. I’ve never broken into anything in my life.” She stared at the tools sticking out of the lock.

Live a little Emma.

“Ok fine, move over.” She shoved his hands away from the tools. “So, what am I supposed to do?”

“I was joking.”

“Just tell me what to do.”

“Ok that wrench there, you push that in. Then take the pick, you need to move the pins around until they click into place and you can open the door.”

Emma pushed with her hands and could feel the pins moving around like a puzzle in her head. She closed her eyes and concentrated. She felt lost in her thoughts when she felt the door push.

“Ems, you did it, you’re a natural.” He beamed.

“Great, I have a future in criminal behavior.”

He pulled her up to him and kissed her before tugging her into the dark of the building.

“Just stay here ok. I’ll be right back.”

“Wait Neal, you aren’t just going to leave me here are you?”

“I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the black and Emma stood silently in the corner of the shop they were in.

Suddenly she heard voices coming from the direction Neal went.

“Neal?” she whispered.

She stepped forward into the dark. “Neal?”

Suddenly she heard his voice and saw him running toward her, “Run Emma, Run.”

Emma turned to leave but felt something grab her from behind. She kicked backward, making contact with whatever had grabbed her, knocking them backwards, the shimmer of something long and silver in the man’s hands.

Neal ran past her, grabbing the door and yanking it open. “Emma let’s go.”

She tripped as she tried to run to the door, falling into something that caused her to land on her knees. She knew she would have bruises tomorrow. Dragging herself up, she stumbled forward in the dark before hands grabbed her ankles and she fell forward again. “Neal! Help!”

“You can’t steal from me.” She heard a gruff voice coming from the man holding her ankle and she kicked at his hand with her free foot. It was enough to free herself and she clamored to her knees and onto her feet to grab the door handle, yanking it open.

Just as she stepped into the alley, she felt a pain in her side, a burning sting that made her scream out in pain. She shoved as hard as she could with her hands at the man standing behind her, a long silver knife falling to the ground as his back hit the concrete wall behind him.

Run Emma, Run!

She didn’t look back; she didn’t stop running until she got to the road. She looked around and realized she was completely alone. No man trying to grab her. And definitely no sign of Neal.

She knew she needed hide. To get out of the open. She looked around until she got her bearings and headed toward where she had parked her car on the back street.

She expected to find Neal at the car, but he was gone.

He left me.

She pulled the door open and locked the door behind her, looking around to make sure no one had followed her.

She breathed heavily, her hand clutching her side which was still burning. When she pulled back her hand, all she saw was blood.

And then everything went black.

[fymagnificentwomcn]

Women of Ottoman make me so sad especially when people hate on them. Those women lived horrible lives. Most of them were kidnapped, sold, thrown under a psycho Padisah. How can you wait for them to care for your kingdom? Of course they were going to survive for themselves and for their children. None of them deserves the hate they get. I hope God put all of them in peace. No human should go through such terrible things.

Totally agree Anon.

Women from Ottoman Empire cannot be for example compared with women from the West – first and foremost, they were slaves that at the very beginning lost their families, homes and even had to change their name and religion to have any chance at making a new life. Some lost their families very early, and often it also affected them emotionally when they grew up without having familial bonds. Even as consorts, they were one of many, and they had no legal status outside their children, Even mothers of princes other than hasekis were referred to as “Mother of Prince X” in records, and mothers of daughters were even more invisible. They had a very limited access to outside world, there was no way a woman could ascend the throne as a ruler in her own reign, other than as regent. Not to mention all matters connected with fratricide and kafes, it was living in constant fear. It’s hard to compare them to European queens, who had more stable and safe position even if they also had to face misogyny and oppression .

It was no fairytale, even in the show that didn’t show a lot of atrocities involved in slave trade and focused on those women who still somewhat “succeeded”.

I will use this opportunity to discuss some double standards about those who succeeded vs. those who didn’t pertaining to the TV show, but will later come to the crux, I promise.

The faux feminism in this fandom is astounding to me,including the glaring obvious double standards depending on who fan favourite is - and fan favourite is often who is simply “the coolest”, “most victorious”, “most stylish”, “most lucky”, generally young, beautiful, badass, and successful, not sad or depressed. We all know reactions to Hürrem and Mahidevran doing the same things back in original MY - when Mahidevran did awful things to Hürrem, she was just pathetic jealous woman, but when Hürrem did multiple times the same or worse things to other women it was “yass queen” and she ‘fights for her love, so touching, so strong, so great, self defence”. Suddenly Hürrem is allowed to do so because she”s “not like other girls, so not like these pathetic dumb losers”. Hürrem was strong, cunning, and smart, but she also had one clear advantage over all her “enemies” - the love of the most powerful man in Ottoman history. She made multiple mistakes too, but could always count on Suleiman turning a blind eye or forgiving her - something that Mahidevran or others could never count on.

Frankly, even Hürrem vs. Mustafa was often treated more as Hürrem vs. all this “pathetic” women that fought for Mustafa’s case aka Mahidevran or Suleiman’s sisters in fandom. Suddenly Mustafa cannot even defend his own mother because he immediately had it coming for “choosing the wrong side”. Even if you disapprove of him defending/not abandoning his mother, e.g. choosing to poison him sounds a little disproportionate, don’t you think? I said it and I will repeat it again – Hürrem is a character very similar to Cersei – yes, she suffered a lot because of a system devaluing women and yes she’s a survivor and a strong woman who managed to make life for herself in that system – but she’s not a feminist character because she actually only uses the system to her own advantage (and often perpetuates it), and actually displays a lot of traits of internalised misogyny, voicing multiple times how she is different from other girls and this is why she must be the only one by Suleiman’s side, while other women aren’t even entitled to dream about such things. She condemns Mahidevran for wanting to be the only one and being jealous, but then when Suleiman is with other woman she’s all “I’m not like pathetic Mahidevran, I must be the only one”. Same with multiple comments that she often makes… Hürrem was sassy &sarcastic, and had many good comebacks, but it makes me sad how people often cheered on and applauded those worst ones that again display internalised misogyny, like her mocking Mahidevran why she cares about her appearance so much when she doesn’t have a man to share a bed with? Or her again being all “I will give birth to many boys, and you won’t even give birth to a girl”. Again, that whole society was misogynistic and other women also were influenced by it, like they all wanted to give birth to a boy mostly…but often it is about status and wanting to raise/maintain rank, while Hürrem boasts the fact that she gives birth to many boys as again a trait to show how special&strong she is, even part of her reaction to Mihrimah’s birth is her unable to accept the fact that she could give birth to a girl and being disgusted by the fact.. yes, she accepts her later on and her reaction does also stem from being aware of how misogynist the system is, but it shows precisely that – yes, she is influenced by the system and suffered because of it, but at the same time she begins to display same behaviour that she suffered from, tries to cut herself from others in disadvantaged position. And yes, not all characters had similar reactions to giving births to daughters, and mind you Hürrem already had a son&became sultana, plus was Suleiman’s clear fave that could hope for more children. She wasn’t in the worst situation, even Hafsa and Suleiman were very happy at birth of a girl and nobody criticised her for it. Conversely, in MYK Kösem states multiple times that she wants to give Ahmed both sons and daughters, and when she’s pregnant with her second child, she says she wants a girl now for a change. Even when Ayşe hopes for a boy so that Murad’s anger may be melted, she’s happy about Kaya’s birth&clearly loves the baby from the start & is distraught when she is taken from her. Hürrem was never intended to be viewed as feminist, always justified heroine.. this is why instead of making her first bad deed be a revenge on Mahidevran, who had treated her horribly and unfairly, she attacked the person who was most kind to her of them all and who recently went through the same exact shit. Some people hate Gülnihal, but then say Hürrem wasn’t a homewrecker because she had the right to make life for herself in harem.. true, but so did Gülnihal, and it’s not like she could refuse to go to Suleiman’s chambers pls. It wasn’t to be seen as right, it was clearly shown that Hürrem can be both the oppressed and oppressor at the same time from the start. If they had wanted to make her character only all about revenge, they would have again made her gone after Mahi, not innocent Gülnihal, her “best friend”. And people going how Mahi is irredeemable, but with Hürrem it’s so okay because she’s cool while she slays..eh. I admit I never liked Hürrem because personally she never appealed to me, but I totally get why people stan her because she’s an interesting, three-dimensional character (and yes she does have a softer side too), I’m just bothered by some making her some empowered heroine who is excused for everything by the fact that she was a slave and suffered a lot because of it – because you know she is not the only one who went through the same shit – the harem is full of such women, for start. Even statesmen like Ibrahim or Rüstem are slaves (of course as men they have more opportunities for a career etc.), eunuchs attending ladies are slaves… This whole system is based on slavery, yet she often behaves & talks like she’s the only one who lost her family, was kidnapped & mistreated.

And even Nurbanu becoming her successor was accidental because she actually wanted her dead later, though of course Nurbanu was still clearly inspired by her. She never intended for anyone to follow her example and to make her elevation become a permanent element of Ottoman system, and it’s symbolised by her decision to bury the “ring of power” (lol) with her (though of course what Nurbanu did with taking it anyway was plain disgusting).

I think that trying to examine why this character behaves like that is more interesting than simply go YASSS QUEEN.

Thus said, I hate these reductive“takes” calling these women “bitches” because yes there are complex reasons why some of them have become pretty cruel, so while there are no excuses for some of the behaviour, the simple word “bitch” does not cut it at all.

/Yes, I discussed Hürrem here because out of all MY/K characters she seems to be the least hated among major female characters & biggest fan favourite,/

Anyway, the point is that neither Hürrem nor Mahidevran are the villains of the story. The show makes it clear in its last episodes that Suleiman is the true villain – he was the most powerful man at that time, when the padisah’s position was truly strong, as Gülfem put it in the finale “even leaf cannot fall without your approval”. He’s not as dumb or passive as it may seem at first glance -of course he needs to pretend to be objective and just, but he has his own agenda just as everyone else. Moreover, he pretended to be the one trying to ease conflicts… yet he was often the one enhancing them. Even from the start when he gave the ring he had promised Mahidevran to Hürrem&and in many ways humiliated her… then he did the same with giving Isabella necklace he had promised Hürrem. Bah, it was clear he often enjoyed making Hürrem jealous because it flattered his ego. He ultimately even enhanced the conflict between Selim and Bayezid to get rid of the latter, who was “the more dangerous son”. He was always pulling the strings.. he allowed Selim to buy Bayezid from Tahmasp by the way he conducted negotiations because he knew Bayezid would get rid of his brother on the road. It’s practically what Gülfem says to him in last episode again. He knew what backlash was directed at him following Mustafa’s death and he didn’t want another son killed in front of him. As Mahidevran said in the final episode to Mihrimah “It was your father who chose the lives we lived for all of us”. He was the one that determined the fate for everyone. And even if Mihrimah did not want to admit it in any way in front of her mother’s enemy, she pretty much understood then that Selim was also her father’s puppet in a way and it’s my guess why she ultimately decides to leave the palace instead of plotting revenge for Bayezid (and we know she would eventually be back). It was Suleiman who was pulling strings all along throughout the whole show, even sometimes by choosing to refrain from acting.

In MYK, the situation is different that we deal with incompetent, weak or even tyrannical sultans, who are also sometimes danger to ordinary people or break the Imperial law. Kösem acts here like the protector of sultanate and again we see different standards. Can you imagine how criticised Kösem would be if she had used similar methods to Murad’s or even once had gone to on “night spree” and executed people for banning all these dumb prohibitions? Yet for many Murad is the “cool guy” and “poor misunderstood Murad”. Calling Kösem a tyrant.. please you have an actual tyrant here. Look how much criticism she gets for saying “I’m the state”, while Murad calls himself “shadow of God on Earth” , “sole owner of the Ottoman Empire”, “I’m the justice” , “true death” etc. all the time and he’s “badass”. Or how she’s criticised because she dared to try to influence the Divan to convince Murad to change punishment for his prohibitions. She’s an “usurper”, not the guy who enacts unjust law and oppresses his subjects.

And here we come to crux – look at how Suleiman is treated in MY, everyone is flattering him, he’s the one who for most time isn’t blamed for what is happening, everyone strives to be in his good graces, his sons step on their toes around him and idealise him even when he behaves like a total asshat. Even when he dies people try to remember him for his “magnificence”

Now look at Kösem, a female ruler, who was turned by scapegoat by people when something went bad and she had far less freedom to make choices and yet far more criticism, blame shifting and insults thrown her way. Suleiman is credited “for making sacrifices for the Empire”… but he really didn’t have to execute all the people he decided to kill, and his decisions truly affected everyone badly and led to further mess, starting from Ibrahim’s.. It was especially visible in case of Mustafa – he was obviously innocent and didn’t intend to rebel, but after what happened rebellions did begin.Conversely, each difficult decision that Kösem made led to stabilisation in Empire and prevented unrest, yet what she does is interpreted by some as “wanting power for sake of power” because woman cannot act in favour of state nation or dynasty – there’s only personal interest or power hunger. Her life is clearly framed as tragedy both by the “curse” of her witnessing the death of everyone she loved and her death being a parallel scene to her capture - because she was never truly free.

Interestingly, IMO Suleiman for all his talent and his achievements, fucked up the succession issue – succession by combat truly began to run its course during that period & no longer even fulfilled functions for which it was practiced – to put on the throne “the strongest” contender, one with the biggest support, also most successful military commander – while it’s true that era of conquest was naturally over and Empire had to become more sedentary, it still doesn’t make Selim the strongest or best suited candidate for the throne after Suleiman – his not going on campaigns etc. and being more of palace sultan had nothing to do with him recognising the transformation, but simply lack of interest in state matters and preferring to have fun than to rule. He wasn’t some demon, but he was terribly passive & lazy. And him not being a warrior was the least of his problems. Suleiman had extreme power and authority, he introduced first law reform after Mehmed the Conqueror – the fact that he allowed such contest (and well his sons didn’t even wait for his death to start a civil war) was a bad decision when it came to long-term planning. Some may say maybe he would have done something concerning move to seniority if one of Hürrem’s sons had been the eldest… maybe, but we will never know. Contrary, while all Ahmed’s sons died during Kösem’s lifetime, we know her legacy connected with anti-fratricide law lived on – after her death fratricide was a rare occurrence with only a few special exceptions in specific circumstances.

Of course there’s also the matter that Suleiman’s era and Kösem’s era were totally different – here it was even a success to manage to stabilise Empire. And here we need to stress how important context is – I always stress how important it is to assess historical figures in context – for me it’s hard to even compare, let’s say Kösem and Hürrem, because they lived in different ages and fulfilled different roles, let alone comparisons between historical figures from other parts of the world, perhaps even from different age. I can’t understand e.g. why Peirce compared Kösem and Turhan to Elizabeth I and Mary Stuart in Empress of the East – both situations were completely different, the only thing they had in common was that there was a power struggle between two powerful women, which ended with one of them executing the other (and we don’t even have 100% confirmation of Turhan ordering Kosem’s execution because such thing wasn’t officially in her power). I appreciate Peirce a lot, but TBH this comparison was just dumb for a professional historian.

Kösem’s case really shows how loss of innocence may be used as weapon against you – very early on, she gets the lesson even with Ahmed – the moment she first became involved with scheming following the death of her father, he got mad at her for the duration of her whole pregnancy – he didn’t ask why she had done it or any other details – she wasn’t his “ideal fantasy” from the portrait anymore and this was what mattered – and only then changed his mind when after so many futile attempts made by Kösem to talk to him, she finally forced him to listen to her explanations & motivations, and subsequently he became all “I will make everyone pay for every tear of yours & for making us endure pain of separation”. Ah okay, but don’t forget about yourself ;) And once Kösem stopped being “şehzade’s dream” with death of Ahmed and was truly her own political leader, she became to be more and more exposed to this with the passing of time and once she acquainted more and more power.

And don’t forget some male historians praising Turhan for “giving the power back to the rightful hands aka men”… it tells you all, and it’s false anyway, since it didn’t mean Turhan losing interest in state affairs and only caring about the harem (and honestly, “Köprülü was “her man”, she didn’t choose someone she had no influence upon). That was what she decided the Empire needed at that particular moment, not because she realised that politically involved women sucked lmao.

- Joanna

[druid-for-hire]

UNSWAYED PT. IV

(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

this update consists of a bit of the trek back to hadestown and the workers’ revolution that lasts the summer until persephone’s return in the fall, and being granted the chance to leave at last--to leave for real.

thank you so so much to all my friends @supercantaloupe​, @unholy-boi​ (who helped write the Riots sect), @damondaunnodyke​, & @s-aint-elmo

persephone has left again and sets to repairing the world up Top after the hurricane, now that she’s helped the lovers.

orpheus and eurydice are... on the exodus from the Beyond. it’s a long road--it’s a long walk. takes a week or two.

kampê slinks into the shadows and hides, bitter, among the smokestacks. she hurts and she fears. hades will come for her, she knows, but she knows this place far better than he--that man barely checks up (hence how her grip on the place has gotten out of control), hasn’t been there for all of the rearrangements and updates in centuries. she knows where to hide. he will not find her in her domain. this is her darkness.

the imagery of the Exodus is very much akin to/inspired by the same Exodus of the movie Prince of Egypt. u kno that one?

looks like this, yeah, but like... obviously without the fish, because the walls aren’t made of ocean in this au, they’re just rock

and orpheus and eurydice leading the pack, shadowed looks of determination on their faces

again: this is where Promises (But Sadder) happens

as eurydice takes orpheus back to the main parts of hadestown, she notices too many things: his legs tremble, his hands shake, he breathes just barely too hard and clears his throat and coughs too much; and as they talk about the small things to fill some of the quiet, orpheus asks “what’d you say?” too often

(it’s hearing damage babey!)

of course, no one is spared from the hardships of hadestown. but she... does not like seeing those scars on orpheus

this long walk is also the time they tell each other everything that happened to them since they last saw each other

reminder: orpheus is still weak & kinda sick! and it’s a long walking journey. and everyone’s tired. sometimes they all sit down and camp for the “night” or something. 

the beyond’s not been kind to him; he’s pale as a corpse, with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, looks as dead as he feels

(really, all the other workers from the Beyond don’t look much better)

it’s kind of a spooky sight when they stop for a few hours and he lays down to take a rest. the state he’s in...

and eurydice is a fairly good singer--nowhere near on orpheus’ (former) level, but good, and she probably sings him small tunes here and there just for the two of them, to relax and comfort and what have you

@axolotlbeans: at some point they stop for the “night” and orpheus collapses; eurydice, who’d been singing, gathers him in her arms and says, "Orpheus, you're shivering; is it cold or fear?"

and he interrupts her, burying his face into her neck and softly rasps "Just keep singing" in the smallest, weakest voice 

when they arrive. it is... a lot.

the long train of people is... heavily distracting. and they seem to come out of nowhere--a lot of hadestown wasn’t even aware there was a Beyond ‘till orpheus got banished, and then they didn’t know the name or what it was, just that he got banished somewhere. even the foremen turn to see; everyone’s sort of like. uh. what the hell is going on? and work sort of stalls out a little bit

eurydice and orpheus go straight to hades and present their demands to let them go. let them all go. blah blah blah some other stuff it probably sounds fairer than that, i don’t have the brain energy to outline all their demands specifically

by the slightly edited words of my good friend supercanteloupe:

let us go, eurydice demands, and hades just laughs, jailbirds like themselves don’t get their freedom so easily. get back to work, songbird, and don’t let the foreman know you’ve been slacking. and all of the rest of you... you’d better return before you’re made to return.

they go, but they’re not done, not by a long shot.

they don’t go back to work.

orpheus cannot sing, but he is still a poet, and the workers have their voices too

the bristling unrest of Hadestown begins to develop into protests, and the protests turn into riots.

orpheus can craft all the words eurydice needs to say with her spirited and powerful voice, to hit every point to cause uprisings and to stab every point to whittle hades down

hades notices things are beginning to go wrong. machine malfunctions, damaged, outright broken; strikes, sit-ins. rolling blackouts. eurydice and orpheus come back and back, with more and more workers, the ones they led out from the beyond and the ones from the factories and mines, always to demand: let us go. 

and hades grows only more calloused and bitter. you failed your test, you don't get second chances. Players who break the rules are banned from play. 

and every time they turn back, back to their increased workloads and their stricter overseers and their hope now stretching thin, and their anger growing more

ok back to me writing: but enough pushing, and even the overseers are beginning to turn.

the furies, infamous guardswomen and union busters, are doing their best to do damage control. and they are fierce. they are vicious, nearly (but not quite) as bad as kampê, and there are three of them--but then there are only three of them, and they cannot possibly control every single instance of revolt when the ball gets rolling

eurydice and orpheus are now the leaders of rebellion, and both of them are marked for banishment. they have to run from god-king hades and stay out of the unrelenting sights of the Furies.

(and this also means they can’t work or the foremen still on hades’ side might turn em in. so they catch a break and a nap, finally, jesus christ)

but.

there is trouble (For hades) in the fact that kampê has practically gone missing. no matter how many are sent to the Beyond, now there is no one to stop them from just... making the trip back. sure. it takes a long time. about a week or so of walking, but they just... come back.

hades takes notice. hades visits the Beyond for the first time in so long and tries to find her, to no avail. the Beyond is far changed than when he last saw it and he does not have the time to spend to find her--he cannot step away from his children for more than a few hours, lest something go wrong again. this is just another inconvenience on his long, long list.

@lookoutitsregan: “they're legally allowed to leave after 15 minutes”

orpheus and eurydice will be dealt with by himself, and so they run--avoid him as much as they can, hide under his radar

by the words of unholy-boi: hades will not let go of his empire so easily. the building pressure only makes him clench his fists tighter, bend his back further, push further to his own breaking point (and towards everyone else’s). 

he’s more likely to go down screaming that he isn’t, more likely to cling hard and furious to his city, push his workers into the dirt and further lose persephone in the process, the further this goes, the more against him, the more likely he is to furiously, dangerously fight back. 

as summer turns late, hadestown doesn’t soften like hades may have had it for persephone in years long since past, hadestown turns from city to warzone

ok back to me again

for the songbirds: there’s the riots and them narrowly escaping hades like all the damn time while he pushes everyone else to their limits

and yet they refuse to be pushed and usurp their foremen as fast as he reinstates things

revolutions usually have unifying symbols of a sort, and the many isolated revolts do eventually coalesce into this all being an outright revolution--a workers’ movement, if you will.

the red carnation. though they don’t have it, they all remember seeing in orpheus’ hand before he was banished--the one solid sliver of the aboveground anyone saw in a long time

@s-aint-elmo: the red carnation becomes their symbol--though they don’t have it, they paint it in hidden alleyways and abandoned factory walls. they have red paper flowers and red cloth tucked into pockets and tool belts

or the red of some banner that waves in the acrid smoke-wind of hadestown’s false air fronts

flowers, painted and made and substituted, are cropping up all over hadestown, and in increasingly more obvious spots. life is blooming in the underground for the first time in so long

OH ALSO, another fun layer of symbolism with the red cloths:

in the staging of actual hadestown, when orpheus sings "and they're gonna bend their branches down and lay their fruit upon the ground; the almond and the apple, the sugar and the maple" the ensemble is on the tables, reaching over eurydice like tree branches in a sort of ^ formation; on "almond" and "apple," the first two layers pull out and dangle white cloth, but on "sugar from the maple," the dude at the top dangles a red one and drops it into eurydice's hands

so there’s that!

also being the bounty of spring above...... rejecting the underworld. some shit like that

in a musical there’d definitely be a sort of revolution song

like uhhh... Why We Build the Wall II. it’s Different this time. it’s not about the circular logic of the wall, it’s about rebelling against the order hades has set for them

There’s so many lines that can be drawn from elsewhere in the musical to be inserted into this

Why do we build the wall, my brothers, my sisters?

He said the wall would bring us peace, the wall would keep out the enemy.

mister hades set us free to work ourselves into the ground. a lot of souls have gotta die to make the underworld go round.

why are we digging out own graves for a living, if we're free tell me why we can't even stand upright?

some sort of rebellion/callback against “who are you to think that you can hold your head up higher than your fellow man?”

i’m gonna count to three, and then i’ll raise my head, singin’, one, two--!

(except they probably finish the count in this one)

also, because i am weak for really great chords being belted out by a big chorus and hearing every voice part slot together, because this is a revolution song with lots of people i think it should have that

everybody 👏knows 👏the 👏walls 👏have 👏ears 👏

thank u supercanteloupe & s-aint-elmo for ur additions on this

the fates’ voices still carry on the wind, hadestown’s false air fronts of stale and acrid air, but orpheus and eurydice have since learned to turn their backs to it

ALSO? Flags

with the revolution coming to span A Really Big Chunk of hadestown, most likely more than half, there’d probably be people putting up flags and banners

i’m just like, inspired by the imagery of the flag raisings in wwii and post-9/11, and also i’m thinking of les mis/french revolution in general not gonna lie

sure, the Furies are union-busters and come after any sign of revolution, but every revolution is a fight against something. there’s always blood spilled, what different is this one?

they can’t be everywhere at once and they’re not like the Fates--they get tired, they’re not omnipresent and omniscient, the people are not powerless

the flag is supposed to attract attention, the point is to be loud

and by god, they are screaming

this is what a steel mill looks like at night. hadestown was sort of already in a hazy blaze, but combo this with a revolution in its midst, with fighting and fire, and... well, it’s a mess

and through all the flames are the carnations blooming, painted and carved on walls and smokestacks and pathways

(it’s very poetic)

(tumblr will kill this post if i link to the source directly, so. photo taken by DragonWolfACe @ deviantart)

hermes still ferries on the train, but the schedule is all out of whack thanks to the strikes and riots turning the systems upside down. he witnesses plenty of the mess that hadestown has fallen into, and the fight the songbirds are fighting

he relays as much news as he can to persephone

(thanks @damondaunnodyke​ for helping write this bit w/ seph)

persephone... worries

she already snuck underground to help them once and a hurricane ravaged the Top for her absence. the songbirds have escaped, and now have to fight this fight for themselves--she can’t go back down to help them, because she has to bring the summertime to the Top, and she refuses to be the cause of another storm

so she’s stuck aboveground. 

and she’s uhh. stressing. drinking. worrying.

everyone can tell there’s something off, but she doesn’t want to dwell on it, insisting that everyone else should just focus on the good times. let me tell ya something that my mama said to me...

she tries to not stress--there’s nothing she can do right now, why worry, you know? unless she wants to get more gray hairs than she’s already got

but during one of those celebrations she almost says “let the poet bless this round!” before catching herself, remembering that she’s... not there

a lot of people give her a glance; why’d she stop?

but she picks herself back up again, only a moment's falter, and just toasts to life and summer

the end of summer.

the revolution rages on. it’s not calmed down--the very opposite, in fact, more ferocious than ever

(and thanks unholy-boi for basically writing this bit for me HBGFHG)

persephone knows something is wrong when the train isn’t early--isn’t on time, but in fact late to pick her up. the summer has stretched on longer than it should, and in some ways, that is just as dangerous as the winter going on for too long

hades has been getting ready to bring her home. it takes browbeating and strongarming to get the trains running, far too late for his liking.

at last the train comes for her, and when it is hermes who offers his hand to bring her onboard, she knows that things in the underworld are bad--an inferno, dangerous if not dire, and she wonders if the songbirds are still alive, or if they’ve gone and the revolution still rages without them

hades aches for his wife, but he dares not step away from hadestown for a moment. he’s become obsessed and absolutely determined to quell, to crush this rebellion

hades is breaking, but refuses to bend, hades has refrains where he refuses to sing but slips into poetry and catches himself halfway through, hades is breaking, he puts in people he believes he can trust and they turn on him out of desperation, hades is running out of places to desperately hold and he is breaking. hadestown is oblivion. hades is wearing a crown that mangled his head.

persephone steps off of the train, and is taken aback by the state hadestown is in

 the people feel her breeze in, and it is some relief, but the can’t tell how this will change things. if it’ll make things worse, if it’ll make it better

people ask for her aid; but she’s too busy looking around, trying to find the songbirds (after getting confirmation that they’re still alive) who are still hiding

and she finds them. she sees orpheus and eurydice (orpheus, who hades so clearly saw himself in, and eurydice, who she sees herself in) still fighting, still in love.

she sees hades’ mercilessness to the boy he sees himself in. she sees eurydice’s unending determination (in contrast to her own grown apathy) 

and she’s reminded of times before. song or no song.

she decides that this cannot keep going, and hades will keep going farther and farther until he fucking self-destructs at the end of his fall and she wants to catch him before that happens

hades raises his fist against his people, persephone takes his hand and she starts singing. the old song. holding his hand. protecting the people. 

la, la la la, la la la 

and he realizes what he’s doing, as music swells, as the rest of hadestown, quietly, starts to join her in singing. as her warmth, her natural warmth, surrounds him, and he smells flowers and feels pollen and sunlight, and he--

well, the ice around his heart starts to crack, and the iron starts to melt

she catches him before he breaks

His Kiss, the Riot is... different

more emotionally charged, i think, because of the fight he’s been fighting for so long, so fiercely and ardently. he’s much more emotionally compromised, stressed and strung out and now everything’s been turned on his head

he can’t just let them go, but he can’t make them stay. he definitely cannot make them stay. and if the songbirds leave, they will take almost all of hadestown with them

it’s not like... Hellfire Notre Dame levels of dramatic. it’s still quiet, dark, and brooding, but hades is. more of a mess, really

but he comes to his conclusion all the same

that’s about all i got on this. i just wanted to make a note. i thought it was important

the task is given: they can walk, but eurydice must walk in front, and orpheus must follow behind. she must not turn behind to see if orpheus is following--if he has not collapsed, and she will not be able to hear if he has. if she turns, she may return above, but her lover will return to hadestown. 

it’s given to eurydice instead because while she might be harder to instill doubt in, she’s as much susceptible to loneliness as any other. she may have been alone for so long, but she is desperate to not be alone again. and orpheus is still weak--still sick, and she fears he might give out before they reach the top, as much as he assures her he’ll be fine

and if they fail, well, they keep the poet, who was damned to hell anyway--a sentence is stronger than a contract

(Also, this is now Wait For Me III (the first being Orpheus on the way to Hadestown; second being Eurydice trying to find Orpheus; this is the third) and it is HUGE and GRAND, as the climax of the revolution. just as big, if not bigger than the bway version’s

(tho as per usual it’s tinged with sadness because of the circumstances, and the fact that, if this were staged, orpheus would be the only one not singing)

and then... doubt comes in

eurydice walks the path to the surface

hermes' warnings echo in her head, all the same he gave to orpheus in the normal timeline

it's cold

the fates badger her and bleed into her thoughts, systematically unwinding her confidence as she marches on through the dark

one foot after the other, she tells herself

after so long of turning her back to the wind, to the fates, she has learned to keep her head on straight

orpheus is not sturdy, especially now, but he is not so weak to fail on a walk like this--long, but simple, and upon even ground

he is there, she tells herself. he is strong enough to keep up.

his heart is strong enough. it has to be.

hades lied to everyone in the underground--hades lied to make hadestown, she thinks

hades...

just this once--

she chooses to believe he didn't lie to her.

(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

bonus:

[foolgobi65]

Lois/Clark + travel au + fake dating + “are you sure this is legal?”

again, its kind of a fake marriage and...also again....this is kind of the set up for the fake marriage scenario? i basically used this as an opportunity to write down a bunch of my lois headcanons for a period after superman reveal but before the get together lmao but i hope you still like it!! thank you so much for sending the prompt, i love lois sm and this was i think the first time i’ve really written from her (or actually written out lois and clark lol) so everyone please send feedback re: lois and clark characterizations!!!!

love u to the moon and back!!!!

---

“Clark, what does legal really mean, other than the things our government arbitrarily decided we’re allowed to do?”

Next to her, Clark rolls his eyes and Lois tries not to show the awe that briefly floods her body when she remembers that Superman is Clark is Superman is Clark, which means that when he responds to her quip, it’s not only as Smallville but as Kal-El, who she once named ‘the Man of Tomorrow.’ 

“Nice to see Libertarian Lois make an appearance,” Clark-El quips, and Lois nearly melts. It’s been about a month since what she, agnosto-sympathetic as she’s always been, termed in her own mind as the Revelation. Clark is Superman is Clark, she reminds herself as she always has to, to keep herself from running in as many directions as she can, vainly trying to outrun the fastest man alive. 

Being, maybe. Because he’s not really a man, is he?

Clark, Lois thinks again. Clark Kent from Smallville, Kansas. Son of Martha. Man, man, man. Lois is no fool to think that he could really be anyone else -- Clark, for all that he’s apparently lied to her, couldn’t possibly have lied about this. Superman had always seemed so aloof, so removed from the daily grind of humanity’s issues: sure, he’s saved plenty of cats up trees, but Lois had always wondered if he understood why those cats were so beloved, or worse if he saw humanity as the perennial cat constantly stuck up in trees of its own making. But she hadn’t known Superman, really, hadn’t thought she would be able to. 

Not like she’d known Clark. Clark, of the long-form article following the production of a single plaid shirt he’d been wearing on Monday during the week’s pitch meeting. Clark, who was always falling into step right next to Lois no matter where she was, or who she was up against, his heart the only one that burned like Lois when confronted with the nastiness of the world. 

Clark, who Lois has always considered the most human man she ever met. Clark who is somehow biologically, the least human man in the universe.

“Lois?” Clark’s voice is just slightly strained as if he can hear the thoughts scurrying round and round Lois’s mind, but no Lois had asked about that during those first few terrifying days when up had seemed like down and she’d felt like the shittiest investigative reporter since Arnab Goswami. Clark couldn’t read minds, not really, he’d said -- he could at most see the neurons firing (and wasn’t that a horrifying thought?) but he hadn’t tried to figure out a pattern. 

“But I don’t watch your neurons,” he’d said with what then-Lois had recognized as a hint of human-Clark, who she later realized was just-Clark’s shit-eating grin. “Your mind makes me dizzy enough when I’m just observing from the outside. Can’t imagine what would happen if I was trying to follow your thought process in real-time.” 

Now-Lois shakes her head slightly, unattractive like a wet dog. “Sure it’s illegal to impersonate a pair of massage therapists, but you’re an extraterrestrial traveler, Clark. Do the mighty dictums of the United States really mean that much to you?” 

She knows almost as soon as the last half of the sentence leaves her lips that it’s the wrong thing to say. Clark’s from Kansas, just like he always said. He was raised in Kansas, with Kansas values whatever the hell that means. Christ, she thinks, she’s never been so insensitive to an adoptee in her life. 

A month ago, Clark’s face might have crumpled. Two weeks ago, he might have thrown Lois’s insensitivity right back in her face. Today, though, his eyes only go wide for a second, right before Lois sees them glint with what she can only label as sheer Clarkness. It’s a near cousin of his shit-eating grin, that’s for sure, and if it makes her heart race with a little anticipation that between her, the universe and, if he’s listening, Sup--

Shit. 

But maybe Clark isn’t listening, too focused on what he’s about to say, because he plows on despite her heart rate. “Lois,” he drawls, “I don’t ignore the dictates of the United States because I'm an alien.”  

Oh for fuckssake. “Clark now is not the time to crib off of your much cooler mom’s actual anarchist credentials. You can talk as much theory as you want, but you were the one who just asked if we should continue our pursuit of justice based on legality.” 

Clark scoffs. “Perry suspended us for two weeks, and on day two you called me up and asked if I wanted to go on a vacation.” 

Sometimes, Clark’s whole Clark-shtick makes it so that Lois can’t tell if he’s actually hurt, or if he’s just fucking with her emotions, the ones everyone told him she’d long shot dead and buried behind the house, for his own amusement. She squints, leaning in a little closer to check for his usual tells, and there! Just at the corner of his lip, a slight twitch, so minuscule that no one but Lois could have found it. 

“You asshole! You were bored too!” Lois crosses her arms. “C’mon, would you really have been happy with a normal cruise, just floating on the ocean and wearing Hawaiian shirts while eating shrimp, no care in the world?” She raises her eyebrows, grinning like she’s trying to sell Clark a tub of Crisco. “Isn’t taking down the Mob just so much more exciting?” 

According to her therapist, Lois was never really in love with Superman. Lois was in love with the idea Superman represented -- a good man, powerful without the corruption she saw infesting those with power every day, a man so far above humanity that he was safe from the trainwreck that was Lois’ interior self. He could never really love her back, so Lois was safe loving him, never had to worry about her job putting him in danger or her tongue slicing him up during an argument until there was nothing left but his torn up suit. 

Clark, though, Clark was very real, her therapist said. Says, though Lois hasn’t been responding to her calls since the Revelation. She doesn’t know how quite to say “hey Doc, remember how we’ve been talking on and on about Clark and Superman, and how I have to ‘give up my illusion of safety in order to take a real leap of faith?’ Well, do I have a doozy for you!”  

But anyway, the point her therapist was making was that Clark actually knows Lois, inside and out. Probably better than Lois knows herself, at this point, and he loves her for it anyway. Because he does love her, Lois knows. Just like Jimmy knows, and Perry, and Lucy, and hell the guy at her corner bodega too who thinks that “that nice plaid-shirt guy you’re seeing, who comes in to buy you a whole dozen maple donuts before he picks you up, he’s gonna pop the question any day now Miss Lane!” 

Clark has loved Lois for a long time but never told her because Lois has spent almost the entirety of their partnership pretending to love Superman, afraid of being judged wanting by the only person in the world who could actually make that judgment in the first place. Clark loves her now, but Lois’ parents loved each other too once, and that relationship ended with her mom being just a little grateful that the cancer was actually going to kill her so that she wouldn’t have to put up with the General anymore. Lois knows that Clark thinks she doesn’t love him, that he thinks her love for Superman died in the fire of knowing that Superman was actually her bumpkin friend Clark, but for once she’s too afraid to report the truth. 

The truth, that all those parts Lois’ mother hated in the General -- his stubbornness, his arrogance, his inability to see anything outside of the scope of his gun -- Mad-Dog Lane has too, probably in equal measure. Clark isn’t her mom, but he too is kind, and gentle. Soft sometimes, in ways that Lois can’t believe he manages when faced with the horrors of humanity twice over. He’s her best friend, her partner, but if they added another step to their weird dance wouldn’t it finally be too much? Clark has parents who love him, makes friends easier than Lois can breathe, but Lois has only Clark. Maybe Perry, but even then who knows -- Clark might get Perry in the divorce since he can actually spell. 

“Hmm?” Lois shakes herself again, finally seeing Clark’s hand wave in front of her face. “Sorry, Clark.” 

He laughs. “It’s fine Lois, I was just saying something you’d probably have liked to hear so it’s probably best that you didn’t.” 

Lois clicks her tongue, rounding on Clark. “Well if it’s that I was right about you being bored after an entire two days off, then I don’t need to hear it. I already know I’m right and that’s good enough for me.” 

Clark rolls his eyes. “One of the precious few times you are, since this idea of yours is all sorts of wrong. Beyond the legal thing, which I will remind you, is a matter of having a massage therapy license that neither of us has and as such, cannot in good faith offer massages as part of our jobs as massage therapists.” Funny that Clark seems to have no comment on the whole “fake marriage” part of Lois’ plan. 

Lois brushes off his concern with what she thinks is aplomb. “See that would have been a problem for the Lois-of-a-month-ago, but today-Lois knows something that you apparently haven’t thought about!” 

“Oh?”

Lois beckons Clark closer, and because he loves her, he humors her by leaning in close. “See,” she whispers into his ear, “Today-Lois knows that her partner Clark has super-vision, and can see all those pesky muscle groupings neither of us knows about. Just talk to me in a language we know but the client doesn’t, and we’ll be all good!” 

Clark chokes. “You want me to...use my powers to aid in our...subterfuge?” 

Lois raises an eyebrow. “Are you seriously telling me that you haven’t used them on a story before?” That would be very Clark-like of him, she supposes, but on the other hand, the Clark she knows would never not use a resource to help break a story. And, just like she thought--

“No,” Clark says, flushing beet red -- I made Superman blush! Lois thinks and tamps down -- “No I have, but just not so....” 

“Planned?” 

“No,” Clark admits, “it was definitely planned.” He laughs softly. “Honestly, I think it’s that no one else has ever planned to use my powers, at least not as Clark.” Superman, of course, helps build millions of homes and launches nuclear waste into space: there’re entire forums where top scientists compete to see which of their ideas Superman can help them fulfill. And here Lois is, asking him to use those same powers so that they can fake being massage therapists to coax out leads from horny couples with connections to the Mob. 

She bites her lip, insecure in only the way Superman and Clark have been able to make her feel. Just figures that they were the same person the whole time. “Is..,” Lois swallows, “Is that ok? That I planned it?” Her eyes widen, sudden panic suffusing her body. “Ohmygod Clark, I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, or anything, I mean I definitely think your powers are cool but I love you for your mind first and fore--” 

Everything inside and out of Lois’s brain shuts off. Did she just--

Clark’s jaw drops, wild hope Lois doesn’t even think he realizes creeping into the corners of his eyes. “Did you just--” 

“I..” Lois’ brain is now entirely composed of those moments when your CD skips, no words, no feelings, just skips. 

And then, like the greatest gift and curse the Universe could possibly bestow at once, the Cruise Director’s door opens. “Hello,” she says, glancing down at the names on her clipboard and doing a double-take. “Bumpo and Geraldine McTungus?” 

[secondchancesfic]

S.C: Chapter I

Superhero!AU

Summary: Virgil only wanted to spend some time with his dad, but Surprise villain is a surprise. 

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairings: Parental Analogical, Platonical Anxceit 

Tags/Warnings: Shouting. Mention of Abuse. Deceit 

Words: 4758

This wasn’t what Virgil had in mind for a relaxing day.

He only wanted to spend some time with his dad to catch up without worrying so much about school or work, and god in heaven knows his dad would live in his office if he wasn’t forced by his boss and coworker to leave the installations of the association.

Was a nice coffee and a bit of father-son time too much to ask?

-YOU LOOK A LITTLE CHILLY!!- Yelled a very engulf in flames maniac who was approaching Virgil in a fast manner. Well his civilian name is Virgil, his hero name is Mender.

The villain flew towards Mender and started to throw a couple fire balls at his direction, the young hero manage to avoid them easily by doing some zigzags and jumping backwards; during his midair pirouette he went to hold on to a device in his belt, once the villain was close enough he threw it at him and it explode into a cloud of carbon dioxide to extinguish the aggressor, but this one manage to avoid the attack and holding on to Mender’s collar with a clear hand, not catching the hero on fire…yet.

-Those ones are new, aren’t they? I’m impressed- said the villain while letting his arm to start catching of fire slowly, teasing the imminent danger to the young one.

-Yeah, you know…Last time you almost kill a lot of people…- said the hero while going for one of the other gadgets in his belt, he was holding the villains arm to try to get away but retreat it once he felt the fire getting closer.

The villain chuckles.

-Well, there will be no next time for you now-

Mender manage to grab the gadget and press it against the villain, triggering it. It explode into a type of hologram and light, turning all the fire completely off. Mender’s hand was burn, yet he hold the villain’s arm into a lock and threw him into the ground.

-You are under arrest, Crimson- says Mender still holding him down.

Crimson wiggles and tries to get Mender off of him to no avail. Mender smirks at his victory and looks around to see the people who now are safe, can’t say the same for the building they came from, it was almost completely gone. At least people were safe, he thought.

-What did I told you?-

Mender’s smirk falls at the sound of the familiar voice.

-To not engage- Mender huffed. He looked at the one talking.

-And what did you do? - said a man firmly and almost scolding. He was wearing a gray lab coat over a suit that looked as if it was made out of metal. Safety polarize glasses were over his eyes to protect his identity.

Mender sigh annoyed. -Engage…- He was still holding the villain down. The other hero, Syllogism, walked towards the younger hero. He was much taller, and looked very calm even when his voice said otherwise.

-You could have hurt yourself- said Syllogism concerned while holding on to the villain, making Mender to move away.

-Yeah, well, I didn’t, ok? I capture him, didn’t I? - said while crossing his arms

Syllogism looked at him; noticing a small burn in Mender’s chin and hand, the burned collar of his uniform and several missing gadgets on his belt. –You used Deceit’s device up close, didn’t you? -

Mender uncrossed his arms in surprise and open his mouth as if to say something but was cut off by Syllogism.

-You were reckless. You could have been in awful danger if you had lost your powers before this... pyromaniac- Syllogism said while looking at the villain and placing special handcuffs in his arms.

-What did you do to me, you asshole?!- Shout Crimson –And excuse you, I’m no pyromaniac, I merely thought everything would look better with a CRISPY LOOK! - The villain chuckled.

-You could have hurt innocent civilians- Said Syllogism in a monotone way –And destroyed several buildings if the fire spread; you are not only a pyromaniac, you are also an idiot- the older hero made the villain sit and to keep quiet.

Mender muffled a snort, the villain huff and stayed still. Syllogism looked at Mender, he couldn’t see his eyes but knew he was being looked in a disapproving way. He sigh and blow his purple hair off of his face.

-Go join with Deceit, I will take care of this one- said Syllogism firmly while making a hologram with his fingers that were covered with a dark glove. He started to make some notes.

-But-

-Now-

Mender started walking away annoyed and frustrated. People were looking at them, not exactly getting close out of fear the villain would do anything. The police got there and started to take notes from the people, fireman were attending the wounded civilians. Mender looked at them but knew he couldn’t help now that his powers were out thanks to the device inspired by his comrade.

Talking about him, where in the hell was he?

Virgil walked towards the now black building where he was with his dad, passing near a brown van. The door open and someone drag him, then promptly drove off rather harsh and quickly.

The inside of the van didn’t had seats, just the two on front. It had a screen showing the news and the floor was actually made out of a soft material, someone probably sleeps inside the van very often.

-Hey, Virge- said a young man resting his back on the drivers sit.

He was wearing a mask that covered both sides of his cheeks and his eyes, while his mouth and nose were uncovered. He also was wearing a black bowler hat, his outfit was black and had certain golden trimmings around a type of cape, his shirt was a bright yellow and he was wearing golden gloves. He looked way classier than Virgil who was wearing a tight black outfit with purple thunders around him and a mask that would change color from black to purple if light hit it.

-Hey Greg’ - said Virgil while being upside down due to the forceful dragged.

-Hey, dude- said the man in the driver’s seat. He wasn’t wearing any mask so he didn’t draw attention to himself while driving.

-Holy shit, the morning star actually woke up early today- said Virgil in a mocking way.

-Ha, ha. So funny- said the man who was paying more attention to the road than to the young hero.

Virgil smiled and adjust himself to sit properly. Deceit, or well, Gregory, looked at him cautiously, as if he was looking for something missing. Virgil took notice and had a sense of déjà vu.

-What? - He asked.

-Nothing, I was just wondering- smirk Gregory. –Logan sounded so calmed when he called us to pick you up-

-Oooooh, got yourself in trouble again, Virge?- said the driver mockingly.

-Shut up, Nate- he said frustrated while laying down. –I just did my job-

-Yeah, you just ran ahead and tried to stop a literal fireman- said Gregory.

Virgil stayed quiet, he was tired of the same discussion and scolding. His chin and hand burn healed up and disappeared without living a scar. “Guess the power’s back”, he thought.

He has train several years now, he has tried all the devices his dad has made, he has done everything perfectly and yet he is still not allowed to engage in battle. It’s bullshit. He is not a kid anymore, he is 19 years old now. He capture Crimson, which should prove it to the man that he is ready to go alone, but apparently is not enough. He doesn’t even act this limiting to Gregory. Sure, he isn’t legally Logan’s son but he has been with them as if he was. Not minding that Gregory was at least 4 years older than him.  

-This is bullshit…- He mumbled angrily.

Gregory moved to the co-pilot so he could see both at Nate and Virgil. He gave Virgil an understanding look, he exhale and turn to Nate. He just shrugged and continue looking at the road, not exactly wanting to get involve on all that family mess. He wasn’t really a good listener anyway. Gregory turn to Virgil and decided to try to lighten his mood.

-How’s studying going? – He asked out of the blue.

Virgil chuckled. –Like shit. I’ve read the same page for days now – He sit down.

-I wanted to take a break today but “surprise villain” is a surprise- he said while doing a hand gesture.

Gregory hummed. And then an idea pop on his head.

–Do you feel like blowing off some steam? – He asked while smiling.

-Not really…Not feeling like doing anything now…– Virgil said without looking at Gregory.

-That’s too bad… Because I heard Blue Nightowl say some pretty interesting not so nice things about Syllogism…- Gregory said while admiring his gloves as if he was looking at his nails.

That got Virgil’s attention and looked at the other hero with a malicious smirk. Nate rolled his eyes while smiling fondly.

If there was one thing they both enjoy a lot, was pranking the other heroes in the association. Even when everyone was a proclaim hero, some of them were actually gigantic assholes. Ever since the new boss, who, by the way, was the kindest and bubbliest woman ever, started to make changes, which involve making Logan second on hand, they haven’t stop complaining once. And that’s because they both implemented a couple new rules about how to handle villains, involving less use of excessive force and to always be brought to the association for a rehabilitation.

Now, heroes cannot exactly do or say much about Green Wonder, their boss, since it is because of her that they would know about dangers around the city easily. She is a great asset to the whole association, but they all thought Syllogism wasn’t exactly useful nor necessary. And it was because of him that the 2 rules mention above were established, due to his main philosophy: “All people can be either good or bad due to circumstances, our job is to make good circumstances” that, of course, applies to villains as well.

Some heroes, however, don’t think nor believe a villain can be reformed at all. A main example they take is actually Deceit; he was a young villain who would manage to hack systems to get money and to simply obstruct with justice, and he manage to avoid being capture by any hero who rely too much in their powers since his power was annulling any superhuman ability. He was the first villain to be reformed and thus giving Logan green light to keep that program in.

He quickly became friends with Virgil since Gregory would spend a lot time with Logan, learning about what he did and the several studies he would make to him. The time Logan manage to capture Gregory wasn’t pleasant in the slightest, Gregory was very hurt from being abused in his old home. He manage to escape with a damaged eye and some broken bones, Virgil tried to cure him but since he was not very trusting he annulled the young hero’s powers not allowing him to heal him. So they rely on normal medical care.

The heroes hate him because, thanks to Gregory, a very powerful and effective gadget to avoid combat was created, also very useful especial cells to keep very dangerous villains. They think those gadgets are dangerous and that when the chance comes, he would betray everyone. Also, at the beginning of his treatment he would annul every heroes’ powers for fun; for example, if he saw someone flying he would make them fall because he would thought it was funny. Of course, he would get a scolding from Logan.

Something the heroes failed to notice was the fact that Gregory was still young, at least on his teenage years. And even if some of the villains they capture now were older, Logan still believes in redemption. Something made all this people became evil, and he would fix that as much as he could.

Either way, they would avoid to use whatever Syllogism would make and complain very loudly so he knew how much they hated him. Of course, calm and collected Syllogism didn’t took the complaints at heart, Logan, on the other hand, would be distraught and angry sometimes. He wouldn’t show that side to anyone, not even Virgil or Gregory, who were actually very amazed by what he made.

He would get so disheartened by the cruel and ignorant remarks the other heroes would say, making him feel like he was wasting his time. Despite all that, he continued creating and building his inventions; recently he has tried to study everyone’s powers to try to replicate them into a device, just like he did with Gregory’s powers, although it has been quite challenging because they aren’t very cooperative.

Virgil is very proud of his dad, sure he can be a pain in the ass over the “do not engage in battle” rule, but he really loves him a lot. He has been his role model and his best friend, ever since he was adopted, so it enrages him to hear other so called heroes say awful things about Logan. Instead of fighting them, he and Gregory usually inconvenience them in several ways.

Gregory was prohibited to use his power against the heroes (Again, decreed by Logan) so they decided on simple pranks. At first it was just the usual salt for sugar in the coffee, then they increased their maliciousness until it became a bit…destructive.  Some of the heroes had nice things that would suddenly turn into broken things… Some other times they would suddenly be sick… or hurt badly… For being someone that cures everything, Virgil was always a petty asshole towards other petty assholes. And yes, they would get scolds and grounding. They pretty much have been more times in the powerless cells than anyone, even though that doesn’t actually do much for them.

 Nate drove them towards a building, it had a brown garage door that opened with a key he had. It was department building colored in a deep red, at least that’s what it looked like from the outside. Inside they parked the van and got out, Gregory and Virgil took off their masks. Gregory had a wide scar in his left eye, he barely could see from that eye. He adjust his hat, some yellowish stripes of hair were showing. Virgil showed his distinctive dark eyes with purple rays shining through, his hair being a mess like always.  

Nate walk ahead of them and called for the elevator, one hero walked towards them and greeted them kindly. She looked like one of the newest heroes because they have never seen her before. While they were waiting to get to their floor, Gregory decided to chat with her; apparently she had hydrokinesis, that’s a nice power, he made some remarks and tried to make Virgil to engage but he just avoid eye contact or any contact what so ever. He could follow up a living torch down the street and try to kick his butt, but he couldn’t do any type of social interactions with new people. “Of course that made sense”, he thought.

Once in their floor, they parted ways. The girl smiled bubbly and ran off; Nate walked away too, he had some business to attend apparently (Wow, he was never this active during daylight). Gregory and Virgil walked in the direction of Logan’s office. The place was like a big reception, different heroes were passing; some were focusing on the news displayed in the screens, and others were going out the building in their normal clothes. Several heroes decided to live there, they found it more convenient than living in other apartment where you had to pay for everything, especially the ones that are around 24-28. Gregory said hello to some of them, newest additions to the association didn’t knew his past yet, so most would actually return the greeting.

Virgil continue walking, he knew Gregory stayed behind to chat, he was very social and nice which was a shame some people were still adamant on knowing he has change for the best. It wasn’t even his fault he was a villain in the first place, not even a good one may I add.

Virgil got to where he wanted, he enter the office without knocking and- Logan wasn’t there. Huh.

He walked out towards Gregory, suddenly a bunch of screams were heard in all the floor, all coming from the same source. Everyone turn to where the sound was coming from; there he was Syllogism with one very angry, screaming and loose villain- wait…

-I will need you to calm down right this instant- Said Syllogism very calmly – You have 0 chances of leaving this place, you are surrounded, therefore you really should…- He got interrupted by a fireball which he avoid. It hit some furniture where the newest heroes were, the bubbly girl from before put the fire out by dropping some carboy water she controlled. Logan made the personal stay put and to not get into the fight, he had it over control.

Crimson slowly started to ignite his body, and wanted to hurt the hero by trying to slam himself into him. Logan was undisturbed and quietly avoid the villain while he hold one of the CO2 devices to extinguish the villain’s attempts of starting a fire. It exploded and the villain was surrounded by the cloud that prevented him from using his powers. Crimson then went to punch the hero, at least he was going to make him feel pain in some way or another. Logan hold his arm and throw him to the floor, for someone who looked slim and not very muscular he was very agile and strong.

-I don’t want to harm you, but if you continue to engage in this erratic behavior I will use force- said calmly.

The villain got angrier and tried to get away. Logan hold him down with one hand, he kneeled and with the free hand manage to adjust a bag he had. He open it, there were several pieces of metal, screws, cores and more, all the necessary to make devices. He placed his hand over them and energy, almost electrical, passed through the pieces. In seconds he made a pair of handcuffs that emitted a yellow glow, which he use to retain and annul the villain’s powers completely.  

He made Crimson stand up and he walk, Virgil and Gregory went up to Logan. He saw them coming and looking at Gregory he pointed to the villain; the young hero huff and made a thumbs up while going ahead and holding the newest addition of “patients”. Logan then looked at Virgil and pointed at the office, he rolled his eyes while blowing air at his purple bangs. He turn around and started walking towards his dad’s office.

-Is it going to my record? - said Virgil half mockingly, stepping into the office.

-Yes- Logan said in a monotone. He walked towards his desk.

-Awesome, please do. It’s my first catch after all – The young hero said while falling into a chair in front of Logan’s desk.

-Virgil…- his voice was strict, making the hero turn to look at the older one.

-I know you want to… “Beat up bad guys”- said trying to imitate Virgil’s voice, which made the other snort. –But you can’t do that if you keep being reckless-

-When was I reckless?!- Virgil shouted, jumping from his seat.

-I told you to attend to the wounded civilians, and instead you went to follow up Crimson- Logan stated.

-He was running away!! You were already making sure everyone was safe! I didn’t want him to scape again! – He stood up, angrier than he was before. This was stupid, he didn’t do anything wrong. Why was Logan scolding him?

-Virgil- he got interrupted

-I catch him!! Isn’t that what heroes do?!- He continue. –I am ready!! I don’t need to just to stay put all the time!! I can do more than just patch someone up!-

-Virgil! - Logan raised his voice.

He looked at the older hero, eyes full of angry tears. Logan sigh and took off his glasses, replacing them with reading normal glasses. His eyes weren’t disapproving, they were full of concern; the older hero placed his hand on his forehead while sitting down.

- I know you want to help more. I know - He says sternly without looking at his son.

-It doesn’t seem like it- Virgil angrily said while flopping in his seat.

-Try to understand, I only want you to be safe. Your powers are amazing, but they aren’t good for combat – he said stating the facts straight, looking directly at Virgil who was looking away in anger. He knew Virgil wasn’t so sure his power was so helpful, even though it was the most powerful and wonderful there was. And because of that, Logan was always concern, he didn’t want his son to attract too much attention to himself in front of other villains.

–You have been the fastest to learn combat skills and you help me so much by trying the devices- he said to assured.

-I am very proud of you Virgil, not only for your previous achievements but for this one.-

He said sounding as sincere as he could, explaining how he feels its way more complicated than building a freeze gun without his powers and with a blindfold. Virgil had a twitch in his lips, as if he tried to hide his smile, he was still mad, because he knew what else he was going to say.

-Please, just… Don’t fight anyone alone. You cannot do that in any circumstance - He paused as he watch his son, Virgil sigh and slumped in his chair.

–Understood?-

-Yes… - said annoyingly. He was too tired to keep up and repeat this old fight.

-Good – Logan said, relief that this discussion was over. He knows Virgil is capable of fighting and winning, if anything that day proved that point. Yet… He really cannot let go of the fear of losing his son. His powers would put him out there, what if a villain tries to capture his son and make him do anything? Bring back someone… Even though his powers do cover that with animals, with people is… more complicated.

-Hey, dad…- Virgil said all of the sudden.

-Yes?-

-Weren’t we going to have… You know, time to talk? - He asked.

-We can talk here- Logan stated.

-No, like… What we were doing before Crimson attack the café-

Oh, right. Today was supposed to be a day off of work. It was odd for Logan to leave early or to not work at all, he always had something to do because he would propose to himself a new idea to keep him busy.

-Well… We could just talk here- the older hero repeated himself as if that would make Virgil realize something different.

-You know what Picani said. You need to get out of here more – Virgil said, he was still a bit peeved off about the whole villain thing but maybe changing the topic was good for now.

-I don’t see how that would be productive. If we are going to talk we could just stay here – Logan said, then jump a bit as if a new idea came to his head, spinning behind him to check several drawers full of different parts, opening them all at once.

-THAT’S why we can’t talk here, dad - Virgil said pointing at the way Logan was already making a new device.

-What? – Logan would loose the trail of the conversation once he is concentrated in something.

Virgil looked at him annoyed and then smirked. He kicked the desk and shouted.

-OUCH!-

Logan looked around dropping all the pieces

-Virgil! Are you ok? - Every time, he would fall for that. Since he was little he would pretend to be hurt so Logan would spend time with him. Not like he didn’t do so, Virgil just thought needed breaks, and a lot of them.

-Dad, at least let’s get out of your office-

Logan stood up sighing. –You’re never this excited to talk about something, what’s got you so… “Chatty”? - He looked at Virgil for approval, Virgil nod. -Today- he finished. They both got out of the office.

-Well…Remember that internet page…- he asked trying not to smile.

-Which one? - He said not noticing the twitch in Virgil’s lips.

-You know, that one that was pink… And blue…-

Virgil said as if he was trying to make Logan connect dots with the ambiguous response. Logan eyed his son very amused. They walked towards a coffee machine, they never got their coffee at the café anyway.

-With letters? – Logan said sarcastically.

-Yes, exactly! – Virgil said rolling with it. Logan chuckled lightly. -And that you had to put plenty info ‘bout yourself…Like your age…Your hobbies…Your job…-

Logan realized what he was talking about and he huffed bothered.

-Tell me you didn’t…- He was cut off.

-You got plenty of suitors! – Virgil said while taking his phone out.

-No- Logan said grabbing his coffee and going back to his office.

-C’mon!! Would it kill you to try to go out and have some fun?-

–You talking about going out? And fun? Ha- His sarcastic laugh always made Virgil laugh, but he was serious this time… Partially… He snorted.

-I do go out- Virgil said between chuckles.

-Yeah? I thought Gregory always drag you at this “hang outs” and I also thought you hated people because, and I quote: “Everyone is stupid”- Logan said smirking

-Don’t need to drag me like that…- Virgil mumbled.

-Thank you, Virgil. But I am fine, besides I already have enough with Picani-

-But dad, don’t you want to meet someone? Preferably not from work? You always stay in here. I at least make a tiny bit of effort to tolerate other people- Virgil said crossing his hands.

Logan smiled tenderly, his son always worried about his wellbeing.

-I can assure you I am fine, if anyone should be worried to have a partner it should be you- Logan said smiling and closing his door not allowing Virgil to finish or start any sentence.

Logan was always a loner, well before he had Virgil. He always wanted to have a son but never exactly fitted with someone else to form a family. If he was honest, he had ideas or desires to be with a person who could understand him, who he could talked to for hours. But now… He was kind of… Old for that. And besides, his main focus is his son and his work; having a relationship now would just make him unfocused and make mistakes in his inventions. He didn’t need a relationship.

I’m fine alone, he thought every day, ignoring that heavy emptiness he would feel every time he look at a happy couple and longing for sharing his life with someone else.

Virgil sigh, he sure was stubborn. He knows his dad could be happier if he put himself out there to meet someone. Sure, he sounded a bit hypocritical since he would rather stay at home and draw or listen to music while reading but he can’t pretend it doesn’t feel nice to have friends. Maybe the whole criticism over his work made him feel as if he wasn’t enough for someone? If that was the case Virgil had to make some visits to the ignorant heroes.

-Where’s Greg’…? - He asked to himself.

Then something exploded and water was coming from a bathroom, Gregory open and closed the door and started running towards Virgil.  

-DECEIT!!!-  The hero opened the door, he was full of paper towels and wet with what Virgil hoped was only water.

-WAIT TILL I PUT MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU SHIT!-

Gregory hid behind Virgil. -THE SHIT TALKING ABOUT SHIT, SOUNDS REDUNDANT, YOU SHIT! - Gregory shouted, the hero was very angry, running towards both of them.  

Both started to run and laugh. He will try to talk to Logan about the dating site later. Now was time for some pranks.

Prologue/ CH 1 / CH 2 

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Chapter Twenty-Seven: 

The One Where Klaus Goes Feral

 

The Baudelaires were surprised at how easy it was to convince Aunt Josephine to go to the market place. They had mentioned that the taxi driver warned them that Hurricane Herman was on the horizon and they explained to Josephine that they might want to get food and supplies. Josephine did put up a fight, explaining all of the dangers of being outside, but the Baudelaires used logic and reasoning against her paranoia. The only irritating part of the whole ordeal was that Josephine was terrified of automobiles because the doors could get stuck, leaving her trapped inside, so they had to walk the long way down the hill. By the time the Baudelaires reached the market, Klaus’ legs were sore from the walk and his arms were sore from carrying Sunny. 

“Are you sure that you won’t let us cook for you?” Klaus asked again, as Aunt Josephine asked Sunny to grab her a couple of limes. “When we lived with Olaf, we learned how to make puttanesca sauce. It was quite easy and perfectly safe.”

Josephine shook her head, “No, it is my responsibility as your caretaker to cook for you, besides I am eager to try this recipe for cold lime stew.”

Sunny rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue in annoyance. She desperately wanted a hot meal. 

“Count Olaf certainly sounds like an evil man. Imagine forcing children to stand near a stove!” 

Klaus and Sunny looked at one another and then at Aunt Josephine with a mix of pure annoyance and utter disbelief. Both children wished that that was all he did to them. 

“He was...he was very cruel to us,” Klaus said closing his eyes. He did not clarify what he meant by this. “Sometimes I still have nightmares...about that horrible tattoo on his ankle. It always scared me.”

Aunt Josephine frowned at Klaus, “I’m afraid you made a grammatical mistake, Klaus,” she said sternly. “When you said, ‘it always scared me,’ you sounded as if you meant that his ankle always scared ou, but you meant his tattoo. So you should have said, ‘The tattoo always scared me.’ Do you understand?”

Klaus sighed and glared at Josephine. “Yes, I understand. Why don’t I just say that he, himself, always scared me.” 

“Niku!” Sunny shrieked, which probably meant, “It wasn’t very nice of you to point out Klaus’ grammatical mistake when he was talking about something that clearly upsets him.” Sunny glanced at her brother and frowned. She knew that his nightmares did not only consist of that bastard’s ankle or his damn tattoo. His nightmares were more complex and vicious. 

“No, no, Sunny,” Josephine said firmly looking up from her shopping list, “‘Niku’ isn’t a word. Remember what we said about using correct English,” 

Sunny rolled her eyes. “Mandu stercore,” Sunny replied, which meant, “I honestly couldn’t care less about proper English. I much prefer it when Klaus was teaching me because he wasn’t so rude and bitchy about it. Now please, eat shit.” Klaus just looked at his sister trying to hold in his laughter. The children didn’t hate Aunt Josephine but they much rather preferred living with Uncle Monty. 

“Klaus, would you please get some cucumbers? I thought I would make chilled cucumber soup again sometime next week.” 

Klaus groaned inwardly and headed down an aisle of the market in search of cucumbers. He looked wistfully at all the delicious food on the displays that required turning on the stove in order to prepare it. Klaus hoped one day that he and Sunny could convince Josephine into allowing them to make a nice hot meal, at least just once. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t look where he was going until he walked right into someone. 

He was ready to apologize to the person until he looked up and screamed. He froze in his place. There stood a tall, think man with a blue sailor hat on his head and a black eye patch covering his left eye. He was smiling eagerly down at Klaus as if he were a brightly wrapped birthday present that he couldn’t wait to rip open. His fingers were long and bony, and he was leaning awkwardly to one side, a bit like Aunt Josephine’s house dangling over the hill. But none of that was the reason why Klaus screamed and stood frozen in his place, the reason was that when he looked at the man’s face, the bright, bright shine in the man’s one visible eye stared directly at him.

When someone is in disguise, and the disguise is not very good, one can describe it as a transparent disguise. This does not mean that the person is wearing plastic wrap or glass or anything else transparent. It merely means that people can see right through the disguise, that is the disguise doesn’t fool them for a minute. Klaus wasn’t fooled for even a second as he stood frozen in place starting at the man he had bumped into. He knew at once that this man was Count Olaf.  

“Klaus! What are you doing in this aisle?” Josephine asked walking up behind him with Sunny. “This aisle contains food that needs to be heated, and you know--” she began but when Josephine saw Olaf she stood speaking. For a second, Sunny thought that she had recognized him, too. But then Josephine began to smile, and Sunny’s hopes were dashed, a word which here means ‘shattered’. 

“Hello,” Olaf said smiling at Aunt Josephine, “I was just apologizing for running into your brother here.” He said directing his smile at a shaking Klaus. Klaus was silently whimpering in fear and Sunny stood in front of her brother with her teeth bared ready to attack if Olaf were to try to hurt Klaus. 

Josephine’s face began to glow as she smiled and giggled. “Oh, no. Klaus is not my brother, sir. I am his legal guardian.”

Olaf clapped one hand to his face as if Aunt Josephine had just told him she was the tooth fairy. “I cannot believe it,” he said in a charming voice, “Madam, you don’t look nearly old enough to be anyone’s guardian.” 

Aunt Josephine giggled again. “Well, sir, I have lived by the lake my whole life, and some people have told me that it keeps me looking youthful.”

“Jo!” Sunny yelled trying to get her guardian’s attention. Josephine ignored her.

“I would be happy to have the acquaintance of a local personage,” Olaf said, tipping his blue sailor hat. Sunny grabbed onto Klaus’ pant leg hoping to bring him back to reality. He slowly looked down at her and she smiled up at him.

“Got you…” she whispered to her brother.

“Allow me to introduce me-self, madam,” 

Klaus glared at Olaf, and he felt a wave of strength flow through him. “No, allow Sunny and I to introduce him!” 

“Sunny and me, ” Josephine corrected. 

“It...it doesn’t matter! This is…” Klaus began.

“Doesn’t matter?” Olaf repeated breathing in heavily, blowing a raspberry and scoffing at Klaus. “Are you shaking me, boy. This might be the rambling of an expert fisherman but grammar is the number one most important thing in this, here, world to me.” Klaus rolled his eyes and sighed as he watched Josephine’s face glow even brighter.

“It is?” Josephine asked.

“Atta?” Sunny asked raising her arms in the air in confusion, which meant, “Is she desperate?” 

“It’s the whole ball of wax. The entire kit and caboodle. Why, without your good grammar, the whole darn shooting match could go arse over tea kettle.” Olaf said.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Klaus asked irritated.

“Klaus! Language!” Josephine yelled and then continued her conversation with Olaf. “Well, you can certainly turn a phrase.”

“I can flip it up and rub it down, too. Of course, that would be entirely up to you, ma’am,” 

Josephine continued to smile. Softly squealing with delight. 

“Redrum!?,” Sunny chimed in, which meant, “Can someone please just fucking kill me!?”

Olaf knelt down, taking off his hat, “Captain Sham...at your service, madam.” 

“He’s lying!” Klaus yelled glaring angrily at Olaf. “He’s Count Olaf!” 

Olaf merely glared at him with his one shiny eye and looked from Klaus to Aunt Josephine who looked confused but scared. “That horrible fiend is here? Where who? “

“Right in front of you!” Klaus pleaded.

“Where’s he at?” Olaf asked looking around. 

“You!” Sunny yelled pointing at the vile man. 

“Where? Behind Captain Sham?” Josephine asked. 

“NO!” Sunny shouted.

“I’ll show him a thing or two. I’ll give him the old ‘wax on, wax off’, for you, me son,” Olaf yelled still looking all around.

“Captain Sham is Count Olaf!” Klaus yelled his eyes going dark with hatred. 

Aunt Josephine scoffed.

“I’m not going through this again!” Klaus yelled as he violently rammed into Olaf with all of his weight, effectively knocking Olaf on his back harshly. 

“Oh!” Olaf yelled. “Children of the corn!” 

Klaus grabbed Olaf’s left pant leg and pulled it down to further reveal a peg leg where his tattoo should be. Klaus looked at Olaf with a face of shock and fear. Sunny looked up at her brother in complete shock. She did not think he was capable of that but although she was surprised, she was definitely proud. 

“Klaus!” Josephine yelled, pushing her grocery basket into Klaus’ arms. “Why did you do this to this poor man!?” she asked him as she helped Captain Sham to his feet. Klaus looked like he was on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry. Sorry. I don’t know what got into him. He seems to have forgotten his manners.” 

“Oh, I don’t pay that no mind. He’s just a little boy, who’s out of his damn mind. He should really learn how to behave himself.” Olaf said glaring at Klaus every time Aunt Josephine wasn’t looking. Klaus closed his eyes and breathed in heavily. Sunny grabbed ahold of Klaus’ pant leg again trying to calm her brother down as she began to growl at Olaf.

Olaf didn’t pay her any attention. “Now, madam, you seem to be at an advantage. You know my name and I still haven’t gotten the pleasure of knowing yours.” 

“I am Josephine Anwhistle,” Josephine replied giggling again. “And this is Klaus and little Sunny Baudelaire.” 

“Little sunny,” Olaf repeated in a voice that sounded like he was eating Sunny rather than greeting her, he stared down at Sunny, trying to scare her with his one shiny eye, but Sunny was unhinged. She glared at him right back, feeling her brother shaking behind her. She continued to growl at him. 

“Fuck off!” She yelled. 

Aunt Josephine turned sharply at the two children. “It seemsboth children have forgotten their manners, today.”

Olaf just smirked at the two children. “They’ll learn to behave...eventually.” 

Klaus froze in place again as Sunny continued to glare and growl at the man.

“Children, apologize to Captain Sham at once.”

‘Ging!” Sunny yelled, which meant, “I would rather eat dirt!”

“A-aunt...Jo-Josephine...he’s not Captain S-Sham,” Klaus said impatiently. “He’s...he’s Count Olaf!”

Josephine gasped and looked from the anxious faces of the Baudelaires to the calm face of Captian Sham. He had a grin on his face, but his smile had slipped a notch, as he was slowly growing less confident as he waited to see if Josephine recognized him.

Josephine looked Olaf over from head to toe once more and then frowned. “Mr. Poe did tell me to be on the watch for Count Olaf,” she said finally, “But...he did also say that you children tended to see him everywhere…”

“We see him everywhere,” Klaus said tiredly, “Because he is everywhere.”

“But Captain Sham doesn’t look a thing like Count Olaf…” Josephine pointed out.

“He’s…” Klaus sighed. “He’s covering up his eyebrow with the eyepatch…and I don’t know how he has a peg leg…but,” 

“I have a peg leg because my left leg was chewed off by the Lachrymose Leeches,”  Olaf explained.

“Damno,” Sunny commented, which meant, “Well, it’s a damn shame they didn’t devour you entirely.”

Olaf just glared at Sunny, unsure of what she said. Josephine’s eyes welled up and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, you poor man.” she turned to Klaus and Sunny. “Did you hear what Captain Sham said?”

Klaus shook his head but decided to try on more time, knowing it would probably be futile. “He’s not Captain Sham...he’s…” 

“You don’t think he would allow the Lachrymose Leeches to chew off his leg just to play a prank on you?”

“Ohcysp,” sunny replied, which meant, “Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past the damn psycho.” Klaus translated for his sister but he had given up. Klaus wanted to take Sunny and run far away from Olaf, from Josephine, from everybody. He was slowly realizing that there was no place safe. No one could protect them from Olaf. The only reason he didn’t run away was that he refused to allow Olaf to kill Josephine just like how he caused Olaf to kill Monty. He wasn’t going to give him the chance. But that didn’t mean he had to participate further in this conversation. He stood there listening on and on as Olaf created a clever backstory about how he lost his leg to the Lachrymose Leeches, something about eating Pasta Puttanesca and spilling it on his leg. Honestly, Klaus couldn’t care less about Olaf and his stories. He then listened to Josephine mention that that was the exact thing that happened to her husband, Ike. which got Klaus thinking, Did Olaf already know that? And if so, How did he already know that? Did he know Aunt Josephine in the past? And if that were the case, How come she couldn’t recognize him like he and Sunny could? 

“Here,” Olaf said, taking a card from his pocket and handing it to Aunt Josephine. “Take my business card, and next time you’re in town perhaps we could enjoy a cup of tea.”

“That sounds delightful,” Josephine said smiling and then looking down at Captain Sham’s card. “‘Captain Sham’s Sailboats. Every boat has it’s own sail.’ Oh, Captain, you have made a very serious grammatical error here.”

“What?” Sham asked, raising his eyebrow.

“This card says ‘it’s’, with an apostrophe. I-T-apostrophe-S always means ‘it is’. You don’t mean to say ‘every boat has it is own sail.’ You mean simply I-T-S, ‘belonging to it.’ It’s a very common mistake, Captain Sham, but a dreadful one. 

Sham’s face darkened, and it looked like for a minute he was going to raise his peg leg again and kick Aunt Josephine with all his might. But then he smiled and his face cleared. “Thank you for pointing that out,” he said finally.

“You’re welcome,” Josephine said. “Come, children, it’s time to pay for our groceries. I hope to see you soon, Captain Sham.” 

Klaus picked up his baby sister and followed their new guardian. Both Baudelaires turned back to Captain Sham, who was smiling. But his smile turned to a sneer as soon as he was sure that Aunt Josephine wasn’t going to turn around. Klaus and Sunny knew that he had fooled her, and there was nothing they could do about it. They spent the rest of the afternoon trudging back up the hill carrying groceries, but the heaviness of the groceries was nothing compared to the heaviness in the orphans’ hearts. They listened to Josephine rant on and on about how nice Captain Sham was and how she hoped to see him again real soon. While the children knew he was really Count Olaf and hoped they would never see him again for the rest of their lives. 

There’s an expression that, I am sorry to say, is appropriate for this part of the Baudelaires unfortunate story. The expression is, “falling for something hook, line, and sinker.” and it comes from the world of fishing. The hook, line, and sinker are all parts of a fishing rod that work together to lure fish out of the water and towards their doom. If somebody is falling for something hook, line, and sinker, they are believing a bunch of lies that will seal their doom as a result. Aunt Josephine had fallen for Captain Sham’s lies hook, line, and sinker, but it was Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire who were feeling doomed. As they walked up the hill in silence, the children looked down at Lake Lachrymose and felt the chill of doom fall over their hearts. It made the two siblings feel cold and lost, as if they were not simply looking at the shadowy lake, but had been dropped into the middle of its depths.

_________________________________________________________

Lemony Snicket was not a big fan of coffee, he much prefers tea over coffee. He only bought coffee because his daughter had a bit of a liking towards it. She also preferred tea but there were times, she needed a nice hot cup of coffee to help start her day. This was Lemony that next morning. After waking up abruptly from his nightmare around 4 in the morning, he refused to go back to sleep. He couldn’t risk having another detailed nightmare of his worst fear. Losing his daughter. 

Violet noticed that her father was making coffee and looked at him curiously. “Rough night?” she asked as she poured herself some cereal.

“You can say that,” he replied rubbing his eyes.

“Well, you know you can always skip a day of investigating and stay home,”

“I can’t do that with this case...although I would love to,” 

“Hmmm…” she replied rolling her eyes.

Before he could say anything else, the phone rang. His heart fell into his chest. No, not again. He thought. Violet stood up and began walking towards the phone. He ran passed her and grabbed the phone. “I got it, honey.”

Violet looked curiously at him. “It’s just a phone call, I could’ve gotten it.”

“It could be my client,” he replied quickly.

“Or maybe it’s Jacquelyn,” Violet muttered.

Lemony froze. “How do you know about Jacquelyn?”

“You told me about her...remember? You had a date with her the other night,” Violet said.

“Ah, yes. Must have slipped my mind. Please, honey, go back to eating your breakfast. Let me get this call.” 

Violet sighed but begrudgingly returned to her bowl of cereal, as Lemony grabbed the phone and walked into the other room.

“What took you so long to answer, Snicket?” Jacquelyn asked.

“You really need to stop calling here,” he replied in a whisper.

“Are you alright? Why are you whispering?” 

“That’s the wrong question,” he replied, “The right question is what’s wrong now?”

“Well, I have good news and bad news,” 

Lemony sighed, “What’s the good news?”

“Your sister was successful in dropping off the Baudelaires to Josephine's,” 

“ My sister!?” Lemony hissed in a loud whisper, “ What the actual fuck, Jacquelyn…” 

“Snicket. Snicket. Calm down. She doesn’t know about any of your involvement. She volunteered to make sure they arrived safely there,” Jacquelyn explained.

Lemony glared at the phone. “I don’t want her or Jacquesanywhere near the Baudelaire case,” he whispered. “It’s too fucking dangerous.”

“I’m aware. But again, she volunteered.” 

“Whatever,” he said as he sighed deeply. “If that’s the good news, then what is the bad news?”

“Larry is stationed at Lake Lachrymose, he owns a restaurant there called the Anxious Clown. I’ve been calling all morning and no response. I am worried, Snicket.”

Lemony frowned remembering what had happened to Gustav Sebald. Lemony felt like that was another death on his hands because he dragged Jacquelyn into this and she dragged Gustav into this, and Olaf murdered him. Now, he fears that he and Jacquelyn have gotten Larry killed. “This needs to stop,” he said finally. “I’m guessing you had no luck in capturing Olaf,”

“Unfortunately, no. He managed to get on the Prospero but when I had cornered him, he jumped out a window into the water. I had hoped he’d drown but...I have my doubts.”

“Do you think he killed Larry, too?”

“I have my theories, all of which are dreadful,”

“Lake Lachrymose, you say?” 

“Yep,” 

Lemony sighed. “I’ll try my best to get there as soon as possible. I will find Larry and the children,”

“I’m counting on you, Snicket. Keep in touch.” Jacquelyn said hanging up the phone.

Lemony sighed. This was getting too dangerous. He already had enough murders on his hands before Gustav’s and now he can add Gustav and possibly even Larry on to that list. This has to stop! Lemony thought to himself. He quickly gathered a few of his things. He didn’t know what he was going to do but he knew he had to do something fast. He remembered his nightmare and how Olaf found him and got to Violet. Lemony swore that that nightmare would never become a reality because if he had to, he’d murder Olaf. What’s one more murder.  He thought as he began to prepare for his voyage to Lake Lachrymose.