#i wasn't expecting to like it as much as i did or care as much abt the other characters. but i really did!!
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Thinking about doting woozi awakened something in me hnnng something about a tsundere man being soft is so fucking cute like you just KNOW he'd be so awkward abt it at first but as soon as he knows that you like it and even WANT IT from him he'd be the softest man on earth
content: bf!woozi, established relationship, pure fluff, woozi is starving for affection and doesnt know how to react to it!!
wc: 610
a/n: i know this wasnt a request but i had to turn it into a little drabble bc im so obsessed with him and wanna take care of him so badly i just need to manifest that need into writing</3
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the first time you took care of jihoon was subtle. it barely went noticed by him at first, but when he realized, he couldn't help but recoil to himself. it was odd, really, to have someone care for you in subtle ways. it wasn't expected.
in reality, it had been quite simple. walking into his home studio, he almost missed it due to his organizational habits, but upon closer inspection it was obvious. you had cleaned up.
not only had you done the usual superficial upkeep that he was accustomed to doing, but you'd dusted! you'd moved every figurine, every bit of equipment, every movable object, basically, and dusted it before placing it right back where it belonged. the air smelled clean too, courtesy of your good taste in cleaning products.
the cleanliness gave him a newfound energy, especially due to knowing it had been your act.
next time he saw you, he was a bit embarrassed to thank you, but still managed a hug and a suspicious 'love you' murmured against your lips without any further explanation.
~
cleaning his home studio became a more common occurrence after a while. jihoon had at some point formally expressed his gratitude for it, but also added the lack of need for it. he felt badly having you clean for him, so he shyly stumbled his way into telling you that it was okay! he wouldn't want you to tire yourself with such a task!
this was met with a squeeze at his hip and a giggle as you let him know that you didn't mind. he was rarely at home while you worked from home, so cleaning just became a natural part of your day.
he accepted this with warmth in his stomach. it was nice that it didn't feel like a responsibility to you. you just did it because you wanted to help him. he liked being helped.
this came along with various other acts of service you'd do without question. acts which continued to make jihoon's heart flurry with a mixture of gratitude and bashfulness.
the list was quite long, once he took a minute to really think about it.
you'd drop in with lunch for him and his bandmates every so often (which was quite a feat considering the number of friends he had), you'd brush his hair any time he let it grow a little more (claiming you just had that magic touch — which, granted, you did), suddenly he'd have socks on his feet when he woke up on a cold night, would find a brand newly knitted scarf on his way out the door in the morning, his kitchen would be stocked with his favorite coffee mix. there were too many tiny details to count.
jihoon always tried to return the favor, but would always feel like he lacked. no one in this world could compare to how doting you were, he'd decided.
worst of all was the viscerally embarrassing way in which he'd react at your acts of service.
he'd always known himself to be bad at receiving love, but he had thought that being with you would teach him a thing to do. the reality was, though, that the stuttering and the blush on his cheeks would just become a staple every time you so much as removed an eyelash from his cheek.
he sometimes wondered to himself, did you realize? how affection-starved he was? how much he truly appreciated your affections despite being the worst at verbalizing this gratefulness?
but the answer was found in the kiss pressed to his cheek any time he'd stutter his way through a 'thank you, i love you.'
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#svt oneshot#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#woozi scenarios#woozi fanfic#woozi imagines#woozi x reader#jihoon oneshot#jihoon x reader#jihoon fluff#jihoon imagine#jihoon scenarios
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oh boy tw for family trauma 🫠
yeah no that's. damn.
my dad only ever hit me once, and he probably doesn't remember it, but i do. i never told anyone because i didn't want him to get in trouble — he was always the parent who was less of a threat.
that's the only physical thing that ever happened (thank god) but there was a lot of other shit and moving away to uni really helped me realize that.
my mom would sit on my bed behind me while i worked on homework and shout at me if it seemed like i was falling asleep. she would keep me up until 1am some nights, and when she was tired and angry in the morning she would tell everyone it was my fault no matter how much i tried to say that i wanted her to just go to bed, that i didn't want to keep her up, that i was tired too... that started at the beginning 9th grade (during quarantine) and lasted until the beginning of 11th.
before that, in middle school (i was 12) when i first got a phone, she told me one of the expectations was that i would give her the password and let her go through it. i did give her the password, but even at that age i didn't really trust her, so i used another app to put a second password on my home screen. if you put it in wrong it took a photo of you and emailed it to me.
a few weeks later she told me she wanted to go through it, and i told her that was fine, but because it was past my bedtime she wouldn't let me stay up and sit with her while she did. i asked if we could do it in the morning so that we could go through it together, and she said that was fine. guess who woke up to an enraged mother and an email with a picture of her face in the morning...
i brought that one up in therapy four years later in response to her telling the therapist she didn't know why i didn't trust her, and she interrupted me to say, and i quote, "that was so long ago that it doesn't matter anymore." she then turned to the therapist to tell her about how when i was in middle school i wouldn't let her go through my phone "to make sure i was safe", and that that was evidence that the trust issues were my fault. the therapist just looked at me like 😬 and quickly moved on to the next topic. my mom now refuses to acknowledge that she ever said that.
in high school my parents always kinda treated me like a toddler. i wasn't allowed to leave the house unless it was with them because they didn't trust public transportation and our neighborhood wasn't safe to walk out of (giant road all around the perimeter). i didn't get to take a bus until i was 16, and that was only to the mall a few minutes from my house. it took until i was 17 to be able to actually go and hang out with my friends without her supervision or that of another parent who she would expect updates from.
now that im in uni living on my own, she takes every opportunity she can to berate me about my ability to take care of myself. ive been living alone for three months now and have been perfectly fine, doing what i can to get decent nutrition on a college campus that makes it somewhat difficult, and she argued with me about whether it was "responsible" to get a hamburger when she brought me to shake shack while was home to visit for a weekend. "you probably only eat stuff like this, anyways, order something healthy!"
and honestly, speaking of that trip, y'know what really showed me how much less stress i've been under in uni? having a nice brunch at a fancy-ish restaurant that we used to go to with my grandparents when i was little and being low-key appalled when my parents parents started having a not-so-quiet back and forth in which my mom was saying "oh you just think everything i say is wrong, just tell everyone that, be honest, this is ridiculous" over the fact that my dad had asked "hey just to make sure we did mean to get two orders of potatoes, right? just want to check before the server comes back in case that's too much."
those arguments were normal to me a few months ago. and they wonder why i don't tell them things...
(also for context, it's one of those places where two or three small plates is enough for one person and you share stuff, so he was counting up what we were planning to order to make sure we got the right amount — the answer was yes, everyone in the family loves those potatoes, and the second my brother said that my dad was like "oh cool okay, anyways-" before being cut off again by my mom going nuclear over being interrupted by my brother)
and also, final footnote before i post this, there is so much more. this is like. not the worst of my childhood. plus im not including anything from before i was like 12 because i don't remember any of it besides a couple snippets, so there's that...
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Why I fucking hate "The Handmaid's Tale" comparisons to real life (ie "this means THT is going to come true!!!")
that was not an elected government in the story. it was a fringe group that slaughtered the entire US government and took control by force. which makes little sense if you think about it, but that's because it doesn't matter HOW the dystopia happened; it just had to be there for the fiction to make a comment upon the author's present.
Dystopia is never a future prediction. see above: it's always a comment on the present in which it's written
That is massively fucking insulting to women who have actually lived with systemic oppression. They don't have to take away your name or your ability to read and write or put you in a color-coded costume. That's not what violent systemic misogyny looks like, because we KNOW what it looks like.
Sarah Emerson (1762-1784) could absolutely read. Based on what was expected of wealthy girls in her era, she probably spoke at least two languages- English and some French -as well as having knowledge of household accounting, basic first aid, history, literature, drawing, music, etc. She was still married to a man in his twenties when she was fourteen, because he wanted the inheritance her parents had left her (property she owned because, yes, women COULD own property back then). His family disapproved- they called her "the child bride" -but it still happened.
Women in the 19th century who couldn't vote, were discouraged strongly from public speaking (as in, speeches, not conversation), who sometimes had no control over that property they could in fact own, if they married, did normal things. They laughed and cried and petted cute animals. They spoke their minds. They wore what they wanted, albeit with societal constraints. They had names and voices and they still had so few rights under the law.
Women who died from backalley abortions as late as the 1960s could read and write. They had jobs. They dressed in ways we wouldn't consider remarkable today. They voted. They had access to the fucking pill, for gods' sakes. And yet that still happened to them. And yet they still died because the government didn't care about their lives as much as clumps of cells inside them.
Shirley Jackson (1916-1965) was a popular author with a rapier wit that she wasn't above using freely, living once again in a time we'd recognize many features of today. she married a Jewish man over the objections of...well, most of society back then, really. the nurse still wrote "housewife" for her career when she said "writer," during hospital admission to deliver her daughter Sarah
and that's all without getting into the double-damnations of women who aren't white, who aren't Christian, who aren't straight or cisgender. women in non-western countries where some of those things- like clothing laws or movement restrictions -have come to pass, but still not all and not in that way precisely
It doesn't have to be The Handmaid's Tale. In fact, it usually isn't, historically speaking. It's Call the Midwife. It's Harlots. It's Hidden Figures. it's Carol. It's astonishingly normal, among normal women living relatively normal- even happy lives, many of them.
Don't insult their memories by implying that it has to be speculative fiction to be real.
#long post#misogyny#systemic misogyny#abortion#and I even LIKE The Handmaid's Tale! I've been watching it a lot lately precisely because it's so fantastical that#it doesn't scare me#it's less realistic than something like (again) Call the Midwife which I have been avoiding like the plague
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Make Me Hurt || Eddie Munson x Reader
synopsis: Y/N lives her life coping torment from Eddie Munson day in and day out, but after a certain encounter, everything changes
warnings: Bully!Eddie, angst,
word count: 4.5k
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The fluorescent over head lights bounced off the white linoleum and burned into your eyeballs. It was currently 8:30 am and the morning rush of Hawkins High School had already began.
People gathered in their cliques around the parking lot and in the halls. Cheerleaders, jocks, band geeks, honour roll student, slackers, stoner, all of them.
You were by yourself, obviously, as you trudged your way down the hall towards your locker. You hated this school for many reasons. The food, the facilities, the people. Actually, mainly just one person. Eddie Munson.
Eddie Munson... were to begin...
He was a tall, dark, metalhead who hated everyone and everything and he made it known. Eddie wasn't popular by any means. He too was an outcast. Him and his friends dubbed satanists and cultists by everyone around them, and even though you too were an outcast, you were an even bigger loser than him. He made it known that you were dirt beneath his dirty white sneakers. Sure, he'd felt that way about everyone but for some unknown reason, it was personal with you. He made your entire high school career a living, breathing hellscape.
You didn't even know what you did to him to make him target you personally. You had barely ever spoken to him, aside from when you had to. Eddie wasn't the most approachable guy so people rarely went up to him unless they were looking to end the day with less teeth. He was happy get into his fair share of school yard fights.
You felt the atmosphere change as your ears perked up at the familiar sound of sneakers slapping the floor. You sighed out an already exhausted breath, just knowing that today would be no different than any other day.
Just as the footsteps got closer, you felt a large, rough hand grip your shoulder and swing you around. You came face to face with Eddie's broad chest, making you look up timidly to his his sneering face staring you down. He had a look of hatred that always sent a wave of anxiety and sadness through you.
What did I ever do to you?
"Hi." You squeaked out, meekly.
"I told you to keep your shit out of the Hellfire room." He seethed.
Ah, yes. The Hellfire room. An empty class room down in the west wing that Eddie and his friends occupied every day. No one knew what actually happened in there. Many people said they did their devil stuff in there. Once, someone even said they sacrificed a baby lamb in there. You didn't believe that one. Much.
"But I haven't been down there." You tried to defend yourself. Eddie didn't care. His fist came up and collided with the locker behind your head before he walked away.
You didn't know what stuff Eddie was talking about. You really hadn't been down there. At least not with any item to leave behind. Maybe he just wanted a reason to torment you.
Eddie wasn't the only person that tormented you. You also had to cop it from the jocks and cheerleaders. They called you names, kicked your bag across the room, tripped you, the usual nasty high school stuff.
It was different with Eddie. It didn't feel like the typically high school bullying. It felt worse. Angrier. Meaner.
The school day felt like it was dragging on, they way it did every day for you. Every day was the same. School. Eddie. Work. Repeat. It was draining. Your parents expected the most out of you and wouldn't settle for anything less.
Lunch was your favourite period because you could disappear for a while and be by yourself. You could take a breath. Typically, you sat in the library or behind the gym but considering the heavy rainfall today, you sat in the library.
The library was only ever littered with dorks and the quiet kids. They never spoke to you but you felt safe with them. It was almost impossible to find one of the popular kids in the library. Even less of a chance of seeing Eddie in here.
The rain pelted heavy against the windows as you found your usual spot under the staircase. You sat on an old beanbag and were surrounded my bookcases. You were pretty undetectable here. Opening your sack lunch and the book you were currently reading, you settled in. You were calm and happy, not a care in the world for the next 45 minutes. Or so you thought.
The library doors squeaked open after a few minutes but you paid no mind. Until you heard that all too familiar voice.
Your eyes widened, half in fear and half in exhaustion. You had never encounter Eddie in here but now this little slice of solitude was tainted.
From your place under the staircase, you had a perfectly hidden view of where Eddie was standing. He was being looked down at by Principal Higgins and it seemed like he was being reprimanded for something. For the first time in your whole life, Eddie looked almost… Scared? Beaten down? Nervous? Sad?
You couldn’t quite tell.
“Listen, Munson. I want you out of my school more than anyone but I have half a mind to keep you back again. Teach you a lesson on respect. You think people like you go far in life? You think your dad got very far?” You listened to Principle Higgins berate Eddie whilst he stood there and took it. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost feel bad for him.
“Keep in line or I’ll ruin what little chance you have at a future.” Principal Higgins threatened before taking a breath and stepping forward. “And don’t think I won’t enjoy it.”
He finally left after that last comment and Eddie stood still, a completely unreadable look on his hard face. Your place under the stairs hid you just enough to keep looking at him and analysing him.
You saw Eddie take a deep breath and rub his forehead with the back of his hand. Suddenly, your hiding spot was sorely revealed when the little foam balls in your bean bag shifted, making a rather loud sound.
Eddie turned his head slowly to the source of the noise, his face turning from unreadable to angry the moment he spotted you.
With wide eyes, you whipped your head back round to completely hide your body from view. You took a few deep breaths to calm your racing nerves.
In a few seconds, Eddie would most likely round the corner of the staircase and rip your book from your hands, screaming at you until you cried.
But he didn’t. Eddie didn’t round the corner to yell at you. Nothing.
You braved another look the where Eddie was standing and saw that he was gone. That was definitely odd. You’d accidentally heard Eddie getting in trouble and he didn’t do anything about it. He just left.
Maybe he was taking Principle Higgins words seriously and actually keeping himself in line. Maybe that meant no more bullying.
After a short while, the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. You’d packed up your items and stuffed them back into your bag, distracted. For once, your mind was elsewhere. You weren’t scared of walking around the school like you normally were.
Placing your Walkman over your ears and turning it on, the sound of Fleetwood Mac flowing through your ears, you walked out of the library humming along. Your mind of occupied with thoughts of what you’d do after work tonight, what pyjamas you’d wear to bed, what movie you’d watch along tonight.
You were blissfully unaware of the looming presence behind you.
Eddie had waiting for you outside the library to give you a piece of his mind for eavesdropping on him like that.
Just before you could turn down an empty hallway, you felt a rough hand come down harshly on the shoulder, yanking you back against a wall with a yelp.
Eddie ripped the Walkman from around your ears and out of your pocket and smashed it on the ground. You watched the little pieces of plastic spread out on the floor around your feet.
“Why are you always lurking somewhere, huh?” Eddie yelled in your face. “That was my business!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” You pleading, Eddie’s hands pressing your shoulders roughly into the wall and tears welling up in your eyes.
Eddie was pressing you into the wall so hard, your feet just barely scraped the ground.
“You shouldn’t have heard that!” He continued. The anger intensifying.
“I’m sorry!” You sobbed. You had tears streaming down your face as you looked up at Eddie with wide, unblinking eyes and for a moment all Eddie could see was his mother, terrified and pleading for his father not to hurt her. “Please don’t hurt me Eddie.”
Eddie’s hands loosened for just a moment. “I’m not my dad!” He shouted and stepped back, stomping off down the hall and leaving you all alone.
You fell to the floor in a crying heap and tried to catch your breath.
Sure, Eddie had been tormenting you for years. Saying all kinds of nasty things but never once had he gotten physical. Eddie pushing you against the wall didn’t necessarily hurt but you were scared that he wanted to hit you.
You also weren’t sure what he meant when he said he wasn’t his dad. You’d heard Principal Higgins talk about Eddie’s dad just before but you didn’t know the extent of it.
After you’d wiped your tears and calmed down, you gathered up the pieces of your smashed Walkman and shoved it back into the front of your bag.
You’d cycled to school that day and decided for the first time ever, you’d skip. Beat the rush and go home for a few hours before work tonight. You might even call in sick.
At home, your dad was sitting in the armchair in front of the TV when you’d walked through the door.
“Hey Button, what are you doing home so early?” Your dad wondered. He was a gentle man with a pot belly and kind eyes.
“Oh, I just wasn’t feeling too hot. I think I might be approaching my ladies days. I just wanted to relax a bit before work.” You lied. You never lied to your dad.
“Okay, baby. You feel better soon.”
“Thanks dad.”
In your room, you placed the pieces of Walkman on your desk, along with the equally broken tape. It was your favourite.
You’d spent 65 dollars of your hard earned money on that thing and another 8 dollars on the Fleetwood Mac tape.
Lying down on your bed, you snuggled into yourself and just stared at the wall. For some reason, you felt bad for Eddie Munson. Sure, you didn’t deserve the things he said to you but you didn’t have to be genius to see that he was troubled. He probably had a bad home life and was taking his anger out on others.
You shouldn’t feel bad but you did. It was your best and worst quality. You felt things too deeply. No matter how terrible someone seems to be, you can’t help but feel sorry for them and want to help them and protect them from whatever’s hurting them. You wished whatever pain was inside Eddie’s head, you could transfer over to you so he didn’t have to feel that way.
Your eyes began to get heavier and heavier and soon enough the next thing you know, it’s pitch black outside and a patch of drool coats your cheek. You’d fallen asleep. You felt a little better but considering the sky was dark, you’d missed work today.
You rolled over and looked at the bright red numbers on your alarm clock.
3:19 am.
You definitely missed work tonight. Oh well, you decided you’d just give them a call tomorrow and explain that you were sick. Surely, they’d understand. You were a good enough worker that they wouldn’t think you just bailed.
The next morning, your opens opened to the sound of your dad gently tapping on your door. Looking over at the clock, you saw that it was now 8:30 am.
“Hey sweetie. How are you feeling?” Your dad asked as he opened the door.
For a moment, you forgot. You forgot that Eddie wanted to hurt you. You forgot your broken Walkman and you forgot the look of hatred in his face.
“Uh.. I’m not sure. My stomach hurts still.” You wheezed out. You added a fake little cough for good measure.
“Alright, you rest up and I’ll call Principal Higgins. I might even stop by Scoops and get you a sundae.” Your dad smiled down at you. You smiled back up at him. He was so kind and he was such a good dad. It made your mind go back to Eddie’s dad. You wondered what he was like.
“Thanks dad.”
Your dad closed your bedroom door and you rolled back over to face the wall again.
You couldn’t feel Eddie’s hands on your shoulders anymore but you remember exactly what it was like.
“God, why does he hate me so much?” You mumbled quietly to yourself.
A day later, it was Saturday. You had never been more thankful for the weekend. You were working at the diner tonight, thankfully, and you had a few hours before your shift started.
Standing in front of your vanity, you brushed out your hair and applied your favourite blue eyeshadow lightly across your lids. Your typical shift went from 5pm up until 12:30am.
It was a long and tiresome shift but you appreciated the money and liked having something to do on your free days. You also had your fair share of loyal customers that you enjoyed seeing and speaking to.
Riding your bike to the diner probably wasn’t the safest considering you left after midnight, but you didn’t have another option. You didn’t own a car and you didn’t want to ask your dad to stay awake for you.
Pulling your uniform out of your wardrobe, you placed the pale yellow dress over your body and tided the frilly white apron around your waist.
Downstairs, your dad was already snoozing in the armchair as the 4 o’clock news played quietly in the background. Placing your keys and lipgloss into your purse, you made your way outside to your bike.
The diner was quiet, as usual. Only a few older guys here and there. Putting your belongings down in the back, you made your way out start your shift.
You noticed your favourite regular sat at the diner bar sipping his coffee quietly and reading the paper.
“Afternoon, Wayne.” You smiled at him.
He looked up and smiled brightly behind his moustache. “Hey there, sweet thing.”
Wayne was a regular for a long time and even though you’d only been working at the diner for a few months, the two of you chatted like old pals every time you saw each other. You talked about movies and music and occasionally talked about work and school but not often.
“Overnight, tonight?” You asked as you topped up his coffee.
“Same as every night. How’s school.”
“Schools whatever.” You mumbled.
“That still giving you a hard time?”
“Is the sky blue?”
Wayne mused.
“You know, if I’ve learnt anything in my time here on earth, boys pick on girls they like.”
You huffed outa breath as if to laugh.
“Nah, I doubt it.”
“Never know.”
“I guess but, this feels different. Just the way he looks at me.”
“Well, maybe there’s something else going on. Maybe he’s troubled or scared of his feelings.”
You looked up at Wayne and noticed he had a sympathetic look on his face.
“Okay love guru.” You laughed. “You hungry yet?”
Wayne smiled and looked over the menu once more before speaking.
“No, just the coffee tonight. I gotta pick up my nephew before I head to work. Lost his license again.” Wayne said as he finished off his coffee and stood.
“Uh, of course.” You replied. You’d heard vaguely about this mystery relative of his. I’ll you knew was that he got himself into trouble and they were each others only family.
Wayne dropped a five dollar bill on the counter and smiled before walking out. It was 4 dollars and 30 cents too much but Wayne had already left by the time you realised.
The rest of the shift was boring and uneventful, as usual and by the time 12:30am rolled around, you smelled like burnt coffee and bacon grease. No wonder you had little blackheads on your chin.
“Okay bye Al!” You called out to the line cook as you mounted your bike.
The weather was cooling off as the summer was coming to an end but it was still nice enough weather to not need a jacket after midnight. It was times this like when you wished you had friends to hang out with and go to parties with.
You took your usual route home but considering it was past midnight on a Saturday, the few dive bars around town were crowded with people. The bar that was on your way home was called The Hideout. It was a sketchy biker bar that housed the towns drunks and heavy metal enthusiasts.
Cycling past, you peered over and felt your stomach drop when you saw who was standing around a group of scary looking guys, all smoking.
It Eddie.
The very same Eddie that you had seen since he pushed you up against the wall.
Coming to a stop on your bike, you needed to catch your breath. You were on the other side of the street and it was dark so you figured it wouldn’t see you but he did. He looked right at you.
His face soften as if he was recognising you. He held an unreadable expression as he stubbed out his cigarette.
The exchange only lasted a moment before you turned back to the road and peddled on down the road and towards home.
For the next several days at school, you’d managed to avoid Eddie at all costs. You saw glimpses of the back of his head or his shoulder but managed to sneak away completely unseen by him.
Normally you hated it when he was mean to you because it hurt your feelings but now you were scared of him. You didn’t really know if he was capable of hurting you physically but you didn’t like to think about it.
You hid in the library or down in the lower levels and raced home afterwards.
You had another late shift on Wednesday after school so instead of going home you decided to take your uniform to school with you and just get your homework done during the quiet periods.
Wayne hadn’t arrived yet when you got there so you decided to brew a fresh pot of coffee for him.
The doorbell chimed just as the pot was finishing brewing. You turned around to greet who you assumed would be Wayne but your blood ran cold when you were met with Wayne… and Eddie.
What is he doing here, and why is he with Wayne? You thought to yourself
Before you realised, you let go of the coffee pot in your hand and it smashed on the floor, coffee spilling around your feet and staining your old white Keds.
“Oh, Y/N. You okay?” Wayne asked concerned.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” You stuttered out, quickly dropping to the ground to clean the mess you’d made. “It slipped.”
“Here, I’ll help clean it up.” Wayne said as he walked to you.
“No!” You exclaimed. “It’s okay, I got it.” You forced a smile.
It was obvious you were incredibly anxious right now, anyone could see it.
“Uh, okay. Well, Y/N, this is my nephew, Eddie.”
You slowly stood back up, still nervous to meet Eddie’s gaze. You didn’t want Wayne to suspect anything so you finally looked up.
Eddie held that same unreadable look on his face that he did on Saturday at the hideout. It was one you hadn’t seen before then. He usually looked so angry and full of hate but now he just looked… like nothing.
“Hi, there.” You mumbled.
Eddie didn’t say anything. He simply turned his lip up to give you an awkward smile.
“Two coffees to start?” You said to no one in particular.
“Yes please, thank you darlin’” Wayne mused back.
The two men sat down at the counter as you turned your back to brew a new fresh pot of coffee. Even though your back was turned, you could feel Eddie's eyes burning holes into the back of your head.
You placed the two cups of coffee down in front of Wayne and Eddie without looking up. You had never felt this on edge in his presence before.
Eddie watched you float around the diner from the corner of his eye, not listening to Wayne speaking, for most of the time he was there. He noticed that you seemed more carefree and happier here then you were at school but he could tell his presence made you anxious.
He hated it.
He didn't really know why he hated you so much. He couldn't place why he tormented you to the extent he did. Sure, he was an asshole to everyone he encountered at school, students and teachers alike, but there was something about you he didn't understand. Something that burned inside him so hot that he saw red every time he saw you. He just wanted to hurt you the way he hurt.
"Alright boy, let's go. I got work soon." You heard Wayne mumble, finishing off his coffee and standing.
You turned and faced the two men for the first time since placing Waynes eggs in front of him.
Eddie was already looking at you.
His usually hard face still held that unreadable expression on it.
"Goodnight, Y/N." Wayne smiled after dropping his money on the counter.
Normally, you would have smiled and waved and said goodbye but tonight you simply raised your hand as the two left. Your eyes lingered on Eddie for a moment longer and then he also left.
When the doorbell chimed, signalling that they were gone, you let out a deep breath you didn't realise you had been holding. Now that Eddie and Wayne were gone, no one else was in the diner. Normally this was the perfect opportunity to finish off some homework but your mind was completely busy elsewhere. Tonight was a lot to take in. First, you'd finally met Wayne nephew and it turned out to be Eddie. You didn't understand how Wayne and Eddie could be related. Wayne was so kind and Eddie was... Eddie.
Secondly, you had no idea what the neutral, unreadable look on Eddie's face meant. Would he continue to terrorise you at school, maybe worse this time? He now knew where you worked too, which wasn't ideal.
You biked home once again after your shift and collapsed on your bed, falling asleep in your uniform.
It had been an eventful few days to say the least.
It didn't help your fatigue that you were working another shift tomorrow night. Your worries for tomorrow washed away however. You knew it was Wayne's night off, meaning he didn't come in for dinner beforehand. You'd be able to relax without seeing either of them.
Waking up the next morning, you quickly showered and dressed yourself before shoving your uniform into your bag again.
You noticed Eddie wasn't around in the morning. You thought he was probably out doing a drug deal or just late but you noticed that he wasn't in the cafeteria at lunch other. Perhaps another detention. But he also wasn't in the library, which was odd.
Even though Eddie hated school and everyone in it, it wasn't typical for him to skip. Whatever the reason may be, you were thankful for the day of peace and calm.
By the time the day come to an end, you had almost completely forgotten about the whole situation. Almost.
Walking into the diner, tightening the apron around your waist, your stopped in your tracks, blood turning cold once again.
Eddie was back. He was alone this time. He sat stoically by himself at the counter with his arms folded close to his chest, head looking down.
You shuddered out a breath. You figured he was here to confront you and yell at you for playing nice with his uncle. If this was any other diner or restaurant, you'd make a co-worker go and serve him but you couldn't do that. The was no one else here. It was just you.
You took a deep breath and slowly walked over, bracing yourself for hell.
"Hi.' You muttered, but he didn't look up. "W-would you like another coffee, Eddie?"
Eddie took a moment before he looked up at you. He had a soft, calm expression on his face. You hadn't really noticed it before but when he wasn't seething with hatred, Eddie was handsome. Large brown eyes, round like a baby cow and a long eyelashes with a dusting of freckles across his nose.
You shook away the thought, waiting for him to respond.
"I'm sorry I hurt you at school last week." He deadpanned.
"I-wh- Sorry?" It caught you off guard.
"And I'm sorry I hurt you when you did nothing wrong."
You didn't say anything, just looked at Eddie like a deer in headlights. You never once expected to ever speak to him in a normal setting, let alone have him apologise to you.
"I don't expect you to forgive me, so I'll leave you alone." Eddie said as he stood up to leave but before he could turn around, he pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on the counter.
"This was mine, but, you know," He mumbled.
It was a Sony Walkman. Not the same model as the one you had but one just as good.
"I also got you this." He said quieter this time. "I don't know if this is your kind of music but,"
I also placed down an Iron Maiden tape next to it. You still hadn't moved. Your were still too in shock too.
Eddie spared on last look you before he walked out. Your eyes slowly dropped down to the counter and softly reached out to take the Walkman and tape into your hands. In theory, it was an incredible gift. Eddie gave you his Walkman and apologised for hurting you.
You were conflicted and you had no idea what to think.
All you knew was that you wanted to say thank you. You just had to find out were Eddie lived. You couldn't confront him at school. That could go badly.
You needed to hatch a plan and speak to Eddie. All you wanted was to know why he hated you so much. Or didn't?
You had no idea.
#Eddie Munson#eddie munson x female reader#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson angst#eddie munson x fem!reader#mean!eddie munson#bully!eddie Munson#enemies to lovers
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Nexus died, he died as a villain and he died as if he was,,, nothing.
Nothing at all for anyone except Sun.
And I can't understand how after having given us a character who ALWAYS, ALWAYS was there for his family and was managing to meet the expectations of not only his family but the fandom, he was massacred in such a way that he went from mourning and depression FOR NOT FEELING GOOD ENOUGH to... what?
A joke. A villain with a rushed plot, cruel and butt of jokes.
Because it's fun, right? Haha, emo, haha, edgy teenager, haha, he only became evil because Solar died... of course.
The character who loved, protected and cared for his family and was WILLING TO GIVE HIS LIFE, deserves to be treated as a joke even after the pain he went through. That's totally logical.
And of course it was only because of Solar's death! Because he's a liar! Nobody had expectations about him! He wasn't a replacement! Nobody was forcing him to be better or equal to Old Moon! Nobody in the family stopped trying to interact with him because he wasn't Old Moon! Nobody made him feel like he couldn't achieve anything! Nobody told him that if necessary he should die again if it meant keeping his family safe!
And of course it's ridiculous that he spent so much time with Solar! Because Solar was by no means the only one besides Earth who knew him and accepted him for who he was AND NOT for who he used to be! It's ridiculous that he considered the only one who, despite his own traumas with his own Moon, was never afraid of him, rejected him, or judged him as part of the family!
He was not at all vilely betrayed by a guy who HAVING THE OPTION TO KILL HIM, decided to "help" him, "cure" him. He was not at all judged for not trusting him when he acted suspicious. And he definitely wasn't betrayed with the excuse that millions of people were being saved while he had to watch as the only person he could ever feel HIMSELF with disappeared in his arms.
After all, EVERYTHING he did and had to go through, after seeing him with the family for basically a year... was simply taken to fill the missing space of a villain for the plot, completely throwing away every thought, advancement and development he had gained over time. Turned without any logic to follow up into a cruel person who doesn't care about anything. Even with the brief moments of clarity he had, even with the small moments in which we saw how much pain he kept for never having felt enough for the family.
Even after all, he died as a villain. Because it's logical, right? It's logical that the only one who didn't have a chance for redemption among ALL the villains we've seen on this show, was Nexus.
And it was all "his own free will"
Because what a big lie to say that it was DARK SUN who manipulated everything. Surely he didn't start messing with New Moon after he GRABBED MOON'S ANKLE AND YANKED HIM TO HIS DIMENSION. Surely he wasn't the one who slowed down Eclipse so he wouldn't work on bringing Solar back faster. He definitely wasn't the one who took advantage of Nexus being in the worst mental and emotional state (even though he felt regret) and took him away, and showed him the dragon, and the negative star power.
What a lie to say that if it weren't for Dark Sun, Nexus would never have become this way. That if it weren't for him, this large percentage of "patterns" (denied by Atlas) wouldn't keep happening.
Because it's more logical to say that it was always his decision and fault.
Nexus became a villain because he wanted to and not because thousands of reasons forced him to hate himself and hate everything he knew.
Nexus was worse than any other villain, even though he was the one who caused the least damage among all the others. He's the only one who didn't deserve redemption.
That is, without a doubt, the only valid opinion.
/very sarcastic.
Whether Nexus will come back or not, at this point I don't care anymore. If they will bring him back as something worse I'd rather not see it. If this is his final death, it's my last sign to take a break from TSAMS and LAES.
I said it, I repeated it many times(?) I'm tired of it. The massacre of a character I really adored happened even before his death.
And this is not for debate. Nor is it hate to the writers/VA's. It's my point of view and reaction to what they did with Nexus.
Probably, I hope, the last post about it.
#the sun and moon show#tsams#sun and moon show#sams#tsams nexus#tsams new moon#sams nexus#sams new moon
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11 Lap Dances
Zhongli x Reader / NSFW / Modern AU / Mafia or Assasin AU but very vague / Reader works at a nightclub / I had way too much fun with this entry so it's a bit longer. Actually thinking about writing more parts for this but it could be read as a stand-alone
A pair of stunning amber eyes had been on you for the past couple of nights. They were hard to miss, leaving a lingering curiosity in the back of your mind.
You continued your performance on the stage as you always did, ignoring all the slurred demands and shrill whistles being thrown at you by the rambunctious crowd. Light bounced off the glass beads on your dress as you moved, creating a dazzling spectacle that few on the dance floor had the heart to appreciate, even if you had their undivded attention. They didn't truly see you, but that was expected. Your seductive dance fed into their fleeting, lust-induced fantasies. There was rarely an exception, and you could always pick them out.
Your eyes fluttered over to him again. He simply sat there, silently watching as if that was all he was here to do. It was all he had done for the past few performances he had attended. In a crowd like this, he stood out like a sore thumb.
The dance finally came to a close. You descended from the stage and made your way through the crowd to the bar to ask for a thirst quencher. Your eyes idly scanned the crowd again for the face that had been occupying your mind. He had disappeared like a puff of smoke again. A bit of disappointment settled on your shoulders as you wondered if he would return tomorrow night to watch you.
Your admirer was a well-dressed man. You could tell even from the stage. His demeanor remained calm and collected despite the loud and rambunctious environment. It was hard not to be intrigued. What was someone like him doing in a place like this? He looked like he belonged elsewhere, somewhere less choked up by cigarette smoke and clumsy drunkards.
Your boss saunters up to you while you were sipping on your drink, thoughts wandering off with a man you knew nothing about.
"A guest requested you." She held up a key card between two fingers.
"Didn't I tell you? I'm not doing private performances."
The woman frowned, but wasn't surprised by your immediate decline. The two of you had an agreement.
"You might want to see this one. Count it as a personal favor to me."
You furrowed your brow, taking a good look at her expression. Ever since you took to the stage, she had been rather lenient on you to the point of favoritism, allowing you to decline interacting with guests you didn't wish to. It wasn't a selfless gesture, but a calculated one. Perceived scarcity artificially inflates value. Your reputation as an untouchable commodity only made you more desirable to the masses that gathered here. She could sell your presence for far more if she withheld you from her ordinary patrons. Their unmet desires fueled your reputation and padded her wallet.
"How much did he give you?" You asked bluntly.
"Nothing." She replied, an unsual tinge of fear colored her voice as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't want to throw you under the bus. You know that."
"He threatened you, didn't he?" You realized.
"Just take care of him for me. I owe you one." She didn't confirm nor deny your suspicions.
The woman standing before you was no herbivore. She swallowed people whole and didn't even bother to spit out their bones once she's done chewing them up. Plenty of illegal activities happened within these walls. She permitted it, protected it even. So the only thing that could stir fear in her was someone who could either put her behind bars or held enough tangible power to quietly make her disappear into thin air.
It looked like you had no choice in this matter.
"Fine. They probably just want a lap dance."
"You better dance like our lives depend on it. I'm counting on you." She almost pleads. It's a first for you, hearing this kind of tone.
She told you the private room number and you plucked the key card from her hand. You immediately downed the rest of your glass and made your way down the hallway. The blinking lights and music dimmed a bit as you distanced yourself from the dance floor. You drew in a deep breath before swiping the card and pushing the door open.
An audible gasp escaped you when your eyes met with a pair of striking amber ones. It was your mysterious admirer, the one you had forgotten about once your boss approached you. He was the monster that wretched woman was begging you to rescue her from?
"You've taken me quite some effort to find." He greets you by your real name rather than your stage alias.
Have you perhaps gotten hit by a car and lost a portion of your memory? You'd swear this man was a complete stranger. If you had met him before, you'd surely remember him. Who could forget such a face?
The door clicked shut behind you as you stood there, not sure how to go about this encounter anymore. You were expecting some large burly man with tattoos running down his arms, so you were actually quite relieved to see him. If every VIP that came through the front doors of the establishment was this attractive, your boss would not have to beg you to entertain them. You would be volunteering to.
"You were looking for me?" You asked, but regretted it immediately. Of course he was looking for you. That was why your boss went to fetch you.
"I have." He sighed, lamenting how difficult it was to convince a mother hen to surrender her prized chick to him. "Come here, dear. Let me take a closer look at you."
Like an obedience switch had been flipped on inside you, your body blindly obeyed his words. That silky, deep voice was hard to resist.
"You have his eyes and hair." He remarks out of the blue.
"Whose?"
"Your father's."
Your eyes widened. When your mother was still with you, she refused to mention your father, even when you asked. She simply said he was a dead man. You've always known he must've been the one you got your eyes and hair from since your mother didn't share those traits with you. Everytime you stared in the mirror, you wondered what your father looked like. After she died, you stopped wasting precious thoughts on useless pondering like that.
"Where is he? He's alive, isn't he?" You asked excitedly.
"Finding you was his dying wish. Due to how young you were when you were separated from him, reliable leads were difficult to come by. As such, I was unable to fulfill his contract until now."
The hope went out in your eyes yet again, after he confirmed that your father was indeed dead as your mother claimed. You shrugged and in an apathetic instant, tossed the gloomy thoughts to the back of your mind.
"So, what now? Are you here to be my surrogate dad or something?"
Your handsome stranger chuckled. "If you'd prefer to see me as a fatherly figure, I can certainly make that accommodation."
"I'd rather not." A mischievous smirk slips into your lips. "Unless you mean for me to call you daddy in a different kind of context."
His brow raised at your flirtation. "Careful now. You barely know me."
"I don't need to." You leaned in. "The less I know, the better off I am, especially in this industry."
"She's taught you well, I see." He hummed in approval.
"Now that we've gotten the reason you're here out of the way, how about I entertain you for a while?" You whispered in a sultry voice. "Can't let you leave empty-handed, right?"
"Your father would not approve of you attempting to seduce me."
"He's dead." You reminded him as you slowly lowered yourself onto his lap, straddling his knees loosely. "Besides, he wouldn't approve of you eyeing his babygirl the way you did while I was on stage either."
Your hips swayed back and forth, ghosting over his leg, barely touching him. This was for his eyes only. If he wanted you, he would have to reach out and take you into his own hands.
"You were putting on quite the performance. Was that not your desired outcome?" He mused, unashamed for being singled out for something the entire audience was guilty of.
"So you admit you want to fuck me too."
"I'm no saint, sweetheart." He warned you.
"Neither am I." You challenged.
The song coming through the speakers was the same one booming on the other side of the door, just without the obnoxious crowd. It gave you something to synchronize to. You rolled your hips to the sensual rhythm. The fluidity of your movements resembled waves tossing against a rocky shore, relentlessly wearing him down.
"So what's your name, handsome?" Your voice distracted him from his thoughts.
"Zhongli." He replied without much hesitation. His voice had gotten thick and slightly gravelly from all your hard work.
A pleased smile sat on your lips. From the first time you saw him in the crowd, he had captured your attention. It took him long enough to make himself more than just a spectator. In a matter of time, this man would be putty in your hands, you thought. Confidence was your charm as well as your blindspot.
"I'll make sure to say it nice and loud when you have me wrapped around your cock later." You whispered right into his ear.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, dear."
"You're going to end up fucking me. Why does it matter what order it happens?" You asked, putting more deliberation into your movements.
"I prefer not to rush into things." He chuckled.
"Are you going to make me sign papers or something?" You teased him.
"I will not lay a finger on you unless you agree to my terms." He managed to say between labored breaths.
True to his word, you realized this man really hadn't touched you at all ever since you've entered the room. All the physical contact between the two of you had been initiated solely by you. A blush spread over your face. You really were getting a bit impatient, but you were glad Zhongli didn't seem to mind.
"What are you, some kind of businessman?" You ask as you press yourself flush against his body. Your lap dance had gradually devolved into something much more erotic and tempting.
"You can say that." He replies cryptically.
"I agree." You pant, getting way too aroused for your own good.
"You haven't even heard them yet." He sighed.
It was getting difficult to think straight with you grinding against him like a sinful little devil. Your audacity was as dangerous as it was daring. It left all too much responsibility for him to shoulder. You might have your feet buried in the mud of this filthy establishment, but this mud was nothing like the bloody sludge his shoes were constantly dragging through. He had found you already, just as your father asked. All he needed to do was keep an eye on you. He didn't even need to see to it personally. Sending Xiao would be a much more efficient course of action. That would keep things simpler for him. Sleeping with you was not part of his original plan.
"Just fuck me good. It's not that complicated."
If you had retained even a shred of caution, you would be treading much more carefully. Your mind was clouded with lust and your only goal was to get this man in the same degenerate state as you.
He shook his head, holding back for whatever reason. You could care less. It wasn't like your reputation could get any more scandalous than it already was, with you working in this sort of place.
"I will need you to quit and cut all ties with this establishment. A new identity and corresponding documents would have to be arranged. You will have to move into my home so that I can see to your safety. Many things will have to change in order for you to adjust to your new life. You will also have to learn to use a gun."
You froze. What the actual fuck?
Why the hell would you need to learn how to pull a trigger if you get involved with him? The whiplash of his words finally brought back your rationality. Your boss's desperate expression resurfaced in your mind. What did he threaten her with in order to make this meeting happen? He didn't deny it when you asked if he was a businessman. What kind of shady business did he deal in to warrant these kinds of precaution?
"As I thought." He chuckled. "How about we slow things down and get to know each other first? Then you can decide if you'd still like to get involved with me."
You narrowed your eyes at the handsome man smiling so harmlessly at you. He was putting it in no uncertain terms that entangling your life with his was going to uproot yours entirely. Even with that said, you were still tempted to step right into his murky water. If he hadn't given you that somber warning, your understanding of Zhongli might remain shallow and short-lived, as infatuations often are. How he laid out all the complications you'd face upfront gave you an ironic sense of groundedness that none of your past flings ever came close to giving you.
"Okay." You stopped moving against him and just draped your arms over his shoulders. "You can start by telling me what exactly is it that you do."
He drew in an exasperated breath. You had him fooled when you first entered the room. He even praised your boss for teaching you to repress your curiosity. It had gotten far too many inquisitive minds killed and he would hate to see you join the body count.
"I deal in various businesses." He vaguely answers.
"I'm going to need more than that, Zhongli." You frown.
"It would serve you no good." He declines with an appeasing smile. "Knowing too much will paint a target on your back. Your father entrusted you to me, sweetheart. As such, I cannot simply tell you what you want to know. Anything that can potentially put you in harm's way, I will not risk. That includes disclosing information that could compromise you or make you a candidate for taking hostage. Do you now see the severity of what you are asking?" He explained patiently.
"What's the point of warning me then, hmm?" You gripped Zhongli's tie, gently tugging him towards you. Your breath feathered against his lips. "Why even approach me if not meeting you is the safest I'd ever be?"
"I cannot refute that." He admitted gravely.
"Then shut up."
Something had obviously overridden his reasoning and you weren't about to let it go without taking advantage of it. You pressed your lips against his in a quick kiss, parting before he could even think to push you away. He swallowed as you resumed that dreadful lap dance of yours.
Zhongli's tie was finally freed from your grip when you twirled your body around. The back of your bejeweled halter dress was consisted of a dainty chain clasped at the nape of your neck and a narrow strip of fabric, leaving your back completely exposed. Plush thighs peeked out from underneath the skirt. You gathered your hair on one side, leaving the other side of your neck bare. It was a wordless invitation.
"If you believe you can handle it, then my fears are unfounded." He finally yields.
You threw your gaze over your shoulder, taking Zhongli's hand and guiding it to your hips. The fabric of your skirt rode up as his other hand slid up your thigh, fingers splaying as he palmed your ass. You arched your back, swaying with the music. A moan escaped your lips when he gave your butt a good squeeze.
"They are. You'll see. I can take it..." You gasped.
His hands had strayed. One of them had ventured between your thighs, pressing against your soaked entrance through the fabric. It was already sticky with your arousal. His other hand had traveled upwards, slipping underneath your halter to play with your chest. You let out a soft moan as he groped and kneaded the soft flesh, enjoying how pliable you were in his grip.
"Oh?" Zhongli hummed. "Is that so?"
Zhongli gathered you closer, spread your legs wider apart and continued to finger you relentlessly. Your lap dance had come to an end as soon as you placed his hands on your body. You began trembling as his lips joined in on the assault of your senses, leaving sporadic kisses all along your neck and shoulders.
"Please..." You whimpered. "Zhongli!"
"Just a little more. I would hate to ruin this pretty little cunt of yours." He replied calmly, despite his cock straining painfully against his pants.
Your lips fell open, spilling moan after moan as his fingers dug into your drenched folds and bullied your clit. Your desperation had you clawing at his belt, trying without success to free his cock.
"Your father would be disappointed at how brazen you've become. Have you no shame?"
"No...ah!" You cried out as he pinched the sensitive nub at your entrance. "Shut up and... fuck me already!"
"Stand up for a moment."
You did as told while he unbuckled and pulled down his pants. Once the shuffling was over, he gathered you back into his lap. His fingers clutched your waist as he aligned your dripping hole with the tip of his cock. You held your breath as your legs trembled. Zhongli drew in a sharp breath. Labored breathing followed as he slowly lowered you on his cock. A whimper seeped out of you as he speared you open, stretching your insides so deliciously, your walls immediately began clenching.
"Sweetheart, you must relax..." He let out a tortured groan. "That's it... Take all of it like you said you could."
You whined and moaned as he continued to push deeper, cock disappearing into you inch by inch.
"Ah... Too thick!" You gasped as he shoved his entire length up into you.
With a helpless moan, you dropped your head back against his shoulder. You never got to see the size of his cock before he put it in you, but judging by how painful the initial stretch was, he must’ve been swollen beyond imagination.
"Bend down for me, sweetheart. Yes... That's a good girl." He praised you while lifting you off his cock before sheathing you all the way down to the hilt.
"Too fast! Ah... Zhongli!" You choked out in between gasps and moans.
"You're doing so well, my sweet. Are you sure?" He chuckled. "Or was that a slip of tongue? You can certainly take it. Right, darling?"
As if to prove you had not yet reached your limit, he began to maneuver you up and down his shaft at an even quicker pace. Laschivous squelches and wet slaps emited from where the two of you were joined. Your mind had since turned into slush, lips parted in an endless stream of incoherent babbling and high pitched moans.
You lost count of how many times you came for him. It became a drunken blur to you. There were flashes of blinding pleasure and sensual moments interspersed in between. He bent you over a barstool once. You faintly remember being pinned against the counter as well as the wall. Most of the fucking happened on the couch though. Your body was so overwhelmed with pleasure, senses riled up and muscles tense with repeated strain, when it was all over, you pretty much collapsed into a pile of mush. You clung to Zhongli as he carried you out of the building and into the back of his car. Your dress was miraculously still on your body, but he had wrapped his coat around you for good measure. Your thighs were a glistening mess, a sight he'd rather keep to himself. As he exited, several of his men who were scattered within the club left with him while some remained to take care of whatever they were tasked to do. Your boss didn't dare intercept him to ask where he was taking you. From the moment Zhongli asked for you, you were no longer in her hands.
When you woke, an unfamiliar bedroom greeted you rather than the VIP room. Your halter dress had been changed into a nightgown and you were lying in a large bed covered in silk sheets and pillows. Your eyes wandered, scanning the rest of your surroundings. In a corner sat a bunch of boxes and a suitcase that unmistakably belonged to you. You never remembered packing anything, but it was obvious that the stacks of boxes contained items that also belonged to you. You climbed out of bed and made your way to the coffee table. A cellphone, an ID, and a post-it note was laid out on it. The handwriting on the note was neat and elegant, as expected of someone like Zhongli.
"There is bamboo shoot soup on the stove. Reheat it if it has gotten cold. Your father used to cook this often. Hopefully you will enjoy the taste."
You stared at the note, spacing out. You had never met your father before. Didn't even know his name nor what he looked like. There was nothing for you to attach anything to, not even resentment. However, from Zhongli's mention of him, you could tell he held fond memories of the man. Through that faceless man, you had crossed paths with a mysterious stranger who had swept you off your feet and dropped you into an unfamiliar world.
You picked up the ID. That was certainly your face staring back at you on the photo, but the name didn't belong to you. Neither did the birthday nor address.
Bits of conversation flitted through your mind as well as everything that happened between you and Zhongli last night. Only a few hours had passed between now and when you were brought here. Unless he had arranged all of this beforehand, there was no way it would be ready in such short notice.
He warned you beforehand that all of this was going to happen. You should be much more distraught at the sudden change of environment, but you weren't. His world was no less uncertain than yours, with its own set of dangers and unspoken rules. Perhaps it was even more unpredictable than the one you had just escaped. Maybe you had fled the pan and jumped into a skillet. The only grace you could cling to was the man who had dragged you into it. Zhongli promised to protect you and arm you with the means to protect yourself. Already, that was a better arrangement than what you had with your boss, who was now inevitably your ex-boss. No longer did you have to dance for nameless strangers in return for her favor. At most, you'd give an occasional lap dance to someone you actually wanted to entertain. You doubted Zhongli would share you with anyone else with the way he fucked you last night.
Your ex-boss's words fluttered through your mind. 'You better dance like our lives depend on it. I'm counting on you.'
You sure did dance like your life depended on it. Your performance was so good, Zhongli couldn't bear to leave you there for another day. Unfortunately for that woman, she was now on her own. You didn't worry about her. She would find a replacement for you in no time. As for Zhongli, he seemed like someone you could actually count on since the very reason he came looking for you was to fulfill a contract he had made to your father. He took them seriously, which convinced you that maybe you should enter one with him as well. At least with him, you had the confidence that he would see through with it.
Now what would a contract with Zhongli look like? What did you have to offer him? Sure, you were going to learn how to use a gun. Perhaps you would train hard and get good enough to be of actual use with it. There must be certain things an attractive woman with a gun could do that a man couldn't. Or maybe he would rather you give him a certain amount of entertainment on a regular basis. You would ask him the next time you see him.
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Heey! I hope you're doing well! I would like to request a story about gp Donna having a daughter with a maid who abandoned her when the child was born. Donna raises her daughter alone and homeschool her for most of the part until her daughter tells her that she wants music lessons so Donna asks the duke a piano. The duke being all noisy gets the tea about Donna's daughter wanting music lessons and suggests Donna to hire reader as her teacher, an excellent pianist with good reputation. Both Donna and her daughter (like mother, like daughter) fall in love with reader with Donna's daughter wanting reader to become her other mom (and unlike Donna, her daughter is not that shy and is always complementing reader and dropping hints to her that Donna is very much single).
One afternoon after a lesson Donna listens to reader sing while she plays the piano and is mesmerized by her beautiful voice. Perhaps reader is singing a classical piece like Ave Maria by Schubert and that sort of reminds her of her family before the black gods faith and all that (I suppose it would make sense not to sing about other gods except for the black ones? So that's why gets more enamored with reader, for bringing her back those memories). Anywaysss, Donna with a little help from her daughter confesses to reader, who of course has fallen in love with Donna and her offspring.
welll, I hope that wasn't too much of a request 😅
Have a good day!
Yesss!!! I have to say I loved that request, thank you :D! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))
Rebuilding a broken life
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Fluff, a bit of angst, Donna being Donna and a single mother, that's curious :D, G!P Donna (implied), Donna's POV
Word count: 8,709
Summary: I only have my daughter...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open, I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
Sometimes I try to live in the past, to remember what those times were like, when life was much easier. I would have given anything to go back to that moment, to reject Mother Miranda's offer to make me her daughter, a Lord.
But being named Lord, obtaining the divine grace of the Black Gods didn’t illuminate my path, rather, it darkened it. I always lived isolated. I was never interested in people. They were evil, they laughed at me, at my appearance, at my scar. I could consider my transition from villager to Lord a success, since those mocking laughs turned into cries and screams of terror, but, apart from that, nothing else changed.
At least nothing that had to do with my condition as a lonely and isolated woman. The reason for the mockery and for my behavior mutated in an unpleasant way; turning me into something like a deformed monster, as much as Miranda denied it.
The Gods' whim was just a moment of fun, and with me... they went too far. Not only did my eye disappear, not only did they turn me into an unpleasant being. They also played with my body.
I didn't care too much, I got used to it soon, but I didn't know how to get used to loneliness. My solitary life only ended partially. Angie, my doll since I was a child, came to life thanks to my efforts, to my desperation to hear another voice other than those in my head.
It might seem like a positive change, in part it was, but it wasn't what I was looking for by giving myself over to the black claws of the village. Getting out of that spiral of madness and loneliness was my true goal, but things never turn out the way you expect. Neither the new parts of my body, nor my powers, nor my appearance made it change. Madness continued to eat away my brain, the madness that came from an illness that had stalked my family for years.
If you put it all together, a deformed face, a different body, terrifying powers, madness and absolute loneliness, you get a legend, a character from a scary story, you get me: the last Lord, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.
I stopped aging. I stopped being a baseless legend to become a woman to be feared, respected or even revered. My new siblings seemed to enjoy that change, to exercise power over the rest of the villagers, to inflict terror on them.
I was never interested in that kind of power, the power to get what I wanted when I wanted and the power to never be questioned. I had become so accustomed to my solitude that it became my refuge, a refuge for all eternity.
One day, after my sister Alcina convinced me, I decided to try out what it would be like to live with someone, to hear other different voices in the mansion, and I accepted one of her maids. She was a beautiful girl. Her name was Helga.
It could have been because of the lack of habit, because of my heart's longing to not feel alone, the reasons really didn't matter. It didn't take long for me to fall in love with her. I had never believed in love, I never had the chance to experience what my books talked about. I was eager to do it, to love, to be loved.
Looking back on the past, I now think that maybe I should have thought things better, understand that love is something that happens between two people, and not just for one of them.
Helga accepted my feelings and let herself be loved by a monster like me. In her eyes I could see the lie, the deception. I could see a false smile when she heard me say: I love you. I didn't give it any importance, she had to love me.
Of course I let myself be carried away by my clumsy feelings, by my erratic heart. I took that girl. I made her mine when I wanted, when I needed. I thought everything would change from that moment on, and I was right.
I wasn’t careful when I claimed her body as mine, and there were consequences. After a few months with the illusion of living a romance, it happened, I got her pregnant. I never thought about having a family, about starting one.
I had to get used to the idea of having a baby with someone who, deep down, I knew didn’t love me, but seeing my child grow in her womb mesmerized me too much. After a few months, that child came into the world, a beautiful girl, Maria Beneviento.
I came to think that I couldn’t be happier. I had a beautiful girl, a young maid at my side, everything was perfect, but, again, it was just an illusion. I remember the blizzard of that night, that terrible night.
“Shh, ti prego non piangere, tesoro…” I whispered while cradling the newborn, who wouldn't stop crying. “Oh, hai fame, vero?” I said, getting up to look for Helga, who, she told me, needed to rest.
I couldn't blame her. It had only been a week since the girl was born and she was exhausted.
I walked through the house with the girl in my arms. Poor thing, she was crying inconsolably. I looked for Helga in her room, the one she never wanted to leave. I will never be able to get over what I found.
The room was empty, there was no one there. I looked for her, but she was gone. In the baby's crib there was a note, a damn note that I burned in the fire, and whose words still burn in my heart.
I can't stand it anymore.
Everything I did, I did because I was afraid, because you scared me.
I can't stand having given my life to a monster like you, having a baby who will soon become a monster too.
I can't stay with you. I can't look my daughter in the face, a daughter I never wanted.
I never loved you, and I never will.
I'm leaving, Donna, I'm leaving forever. I wish I could have taken that innocent baby with me, but you terrify me, I know what you'll do to me.
I screamed, I cried, I hit everything within my reach. I couldn't believe those words and at the same time it seemed like I had read them somewhere else, perhaps in her sad and complacent gaze.
Without thinking twice, furious, with my daughter in my arms, I went out to look for her. It was a dark night and the snow didn't stop falling. I called out to her, I threatened her, but it was too late.
On the snowy ground there were footprints, her footprints. Desperate, I followed them, followed them until... they disappeared, they disappeared at the edge of a cliff.
Surely that stupid girl didn't know how dangerous my land was, how dangerous it was to go out at night in the middle of a blizzard.
She would never come back, she abandoned me forever, she abandoned us.
I might have thought that I had the consolation of still having my daughter, that my baby hadn't fallen into the void with her mother, but I didn't see it that way. My soul was broken in two, my heart was crushed mercilessly. That girl left me alone with my daughter, that girl never loved me.
I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have my daughter in my arms, I don't know what the consequences would have been. I spent days complaining, even though I barely had time. I was left alone, my daughter too. Helga abandoned me, but Maria was still with me. She was a newborn baby, she needed me.
Pain, suffering... at first that was what I felt when I had to take care of my daughter alone. I never knew how to do it well. I was overwhelmed several times, desperate. Then I realized what I had to do, my responsibility. I had to take care of my little girl; it didn't matter if I had to do it by myself. I had no other option.
Luckily, I managed to get used to the situation, and move on.
The years went by and my little Maria grew up, perhaps faster than I would have liked. She was a girl... well, a bit strange girl. Physically she was exactly like me, but... her personality was not similar at all.
Maria was intelligent, extremely intelligent. She was a happy, funny, outgoing and obedient child. I like to think that I was a good mother to her, although that wasn't the case.
From a very young age she had to put up with my madness. Dealing with a sick mother like me, without having anyone else (apart from Angie, of course), must have been hard for her, but she never showed it.
Eight years after that fateful night, my daughter and I lived peacefully. She knew me and understood me, and I loved her madly.
I knocked on the girl's bedroom door slowly, as it was a reasonable hour to sleep.
“Come in,” my daughter said, in a sweet voice, as always.
“Maria, it's time to sleep,” I said softly.
The girl, lying in bed, looked at me over the book she was reading with Angie, and made a gesture of silence. I couldn't help but smile and obeyed her request, slowly approaching and sitting on the mattress.
“Cinque minuti,” she whispered in an intriguing voice, turning a page. “Mamma, they've killed Dumbledore…”
“Oh,” I sighed with a tender smile, watching Maria devour the book.
“I told you Snape was a traitor from the start! I told you!” Angie shrieked, pointing at the book with her wooden hand.
“Angie, don't shout,” I told the doll, who relaxed her attitude.
“It's true, you were right, Angie,” Maria said, nodding to the doll, who laughed in satisfaction.
The little girl closed the book with a sigh of suspense and left it on the table, passing a hand over her forehead.
“Wow... it was interesting,” she said, letting me get a little closer and cover her with the sheets. “I can't wait to see what happens,” she said rubbing her hands.
“Mm,” I murmured with my eyebrow raised, arranging my daughter's hair, a gesture she liked less and less.
“Mamma…” she protested amused. “I'm not a child anymore.”
“Aren’t you? So, what are you?” I asked with the same mocking tone.
“Mm…” she murmured thoughtfully, looking at the ceiling. “An impending pre-teenager.”
I laughed, shaking my head at my daughter's bold responses. I definitely don't know where she got that audacity from. It couldn't be from me… maybe from Angie?
“Excuse me, my impending teenager,” I joked, making sure the girl was well protected from the cold.
“Um, mamma…” Maria murmured nervously, attracting my attention, when I was about to leave. “Can I talk to you?”
“Va bene,” I answered frowning and sitting back down. “What's wrong, tesoro?”
“I was just wondering…” she said, without looking at me directly, thoughtful. “Mamma… Who was my mother?”
The smile immediately faded from my face and memories appeared to haunt my wounded mind. I had to make a great effort to control my nerves. I didn't want to lose my mind in front of my daughter, not again.
“Maria, what's that question about?” I said nervously, with a cold tone.
“Well…” Maria said, sitting on the bed while scratching the back of her neck. “I have a good memory. I remember I asked you when I was… I think I was 4 years old. You told me I was too young to know.”
“Mm, certo,” I said blinking erratically.
“But I'm not so young anymore,” my daughter said, with an expectant look. “Per favore, mamma, tell me what she was like,”
I sighed, undecided, but motivated by her bright eyes, identical to mine.
“W-Well… y-you…” I stammered, trying hard not to let my voice get stuck, something complicated. “Your mother was… her name was Helga and… she was my maid.”
The girl nodded curiously, barely blinking.
“She was very beautiful,” I whispered, remembering that treacherous look.
“What happened to her?” she asked impatiently.
“Um… she left, she abandoned us shortly after you were born,” I said, knowing there was no point in lying to her. That girl was devilishly smart, she would find out sooner or later.
“She left you alone with a baby? Wow, she wasn't a good person then,” the girl whispered. “Do you think I'll ever get to meet her?”
“No, I'm afraid… she's gone,” I murmured, shaking my head and holding back a tear.
“Oh, well… thanks for telling me,” Maria said with an indifferent voice, opening the drawer of her nightstand and taking out a paper and a pen. “Yes, it’s progressing…”
“Mm?” I murmured curiously, trying to see what was on that sheet of paper, on which Maria seemed to cross something out. “Cos’è questo, Maria?” I asked, tilting my head to try to make out something.
“Questo?” she said, showing me the paper. I nodded slowly, studying those phrases that were written on it. “Oh, it’s nothing… just a wish list.”
“A wish list?” I asked curious and amused, trying to bury the memory of her mother, so her words wouldn’t penetrate my mind, and destroy it again.
“Well, I'm already 8,” she explained with that knowing tone I adored. “Soon I'll reach adolescence and lose my mind, you know, hormones…” she said with a passive voice and an amused gesture. “Before that happens and my head starts to think about stupid boys, I would like to do some things.”
“Mm, you're cautious,” I commented, surprised, as always, by her intelligence. “Can I take a look?” I asked, extending a hand towards the paper, paper that Maria handed me, nodding and shrugging.
Yes, it was a list, the wish list of an eight-year-old girl. Some things were crossed out, the most recent was:
Meet my mother
I sighed somewhat sadly knowing that she would never do it, but I continued reading, hoping to distract myself enough with the girl thoughts and ambitions.
“Maria…” I whispered, looking at the girl with a frown and pointing at one of the phrases. “To have a sibling?” I asked with a trembling voice.
“Yes,” my girl nodded, with an innocent smile. “I think it would be really cool to have one,” she said without caring about the impossibility that it entailed. “Don't be offended, Angie.”
“More minions? I like how it sounds,” the doll said, with an amused gesture.
“I'm afraid that wish is impossible, tesoro,” I said with a low voice, with a sad look.
I could never, ever fall in love again, not after what happened the first time I did.
“No, it's not impossible,” Maria protested, leaning towards me and reading her phrases. “Look, mamma, if this one here comes true, it would be possible.”
I looked at where her finger was pointing, and I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry in despair.
Mamma stops being alone
I read it several times, glancing at the girl and hiding the trembling in my hands.
“Maria…” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Y-You should think of another wish.”
“No, they are my wishes, you can't influence them,” the girl said, crossing her arms. “You just have to read them, not judge them.”
“Va bene, you're right,” I said, briefly pinching her cheek, something that made her laugh embarrassedly. “Mm, learn to play the piano?” I asked, reading more of her wishes. “Do you want to learn to play the piano?”
“Oh, yes, do you remember the day we went to see Aunt Alcina at the castle?” she asked, coming closer, she seemed excited.
“Yes, of course I remember,” I answered, looking at my daughter curiously. “You mean the maid who played you a birthday song, right?”
“Well…” the girl sighed, rolling her eyes. “The song was childish and squeaky, but the sound of that piano… it was beautiful, so I decided to learn… but… we don't have a piano,” she said in a much lower voice, looking away, as she always did when she wanted to ask me for something.
“Actually we have one in the basement,” I said. “You could learn on it.”
“Mamma, that's not exactly a piano,” my daughter said in an innocent tone, biting her lip. “I want a real one, a piano as cool as the one in the castle.”
“You want a piano,” I murmured, arching my eyebrow. “Do you want me to buy a piano, Maria? Is that what you're trying to ask me?”
“Well… I wouldn't say no if you do,” she said amused, with her eyes wide open. “I know my birthday has passed and…”
“Cut the crap,” I said amused, shaking my head. “Well… I guess it’s something much more feasible than some of your wishes.”
“Does that mean you’ll do it? Will you buy me a piano?” the girl asked, standing up on the bed, excited again.
I looked at her tenderly and thought for a moment. I could never deny my little girl anything, I never would.
“If you behave,” I said amused, pointing at her with my finger before she jumped into my arms.
“Great! Grazie di cuore, mamma, you’re the best, the best!” Maria yelled enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around me and giving me a tender hug that I always appreciated, that told me I would never be alone, I would always have my daughter.
“Okay, okay, tesoro,” I said, overwhelmed by her affectionate kisses, gently patting her back. “But you’ll have to be consistent and learn to play wonderfully, mm?”
“Certo, I have to read more books,” my daughter said, moving away and letting herself fall on the bed, with a hand on her chin, thoughtful. “Now go, I have to think,” she said with a concentrated expression. “Where could we put it, Angie?”
“Well, you better go to sleep,” I said, laughing tenderly, giving her a kiss on the forehead and looking at the doll coldly, telling Angie with my eyes not to bother Maria and let her rest, something almost impossible.
“Mamma,” Maria called me, before I went out the door. “Ti voglio bene”
“Anch’io, tesoro… Anch’io…” I whispered, closing the door slowly.
Maria was not a capricious child, even though I always did whatever she wants to see her happy. I will always be surprised by her ability to educate practically by herself, taking advantage of my absences, my crises, to fill her mind with knowledge.
Sometimes I regretted having had a maid, but I changed my mind when I saw my little girl. She was the most important thing to me, and that would always be the case.
If Maria wanted a piano, she would have a piano, without a doubt.
The next day I took advantage of the Duke's weekly visit to make the request. I still find it hard to believe how different Maria is, how little she resembles my withdrawn and shy personality…
“Hello, Duke,” Maria said, waving her hand politely with a mocking smile.
I was standing next to her, with my face covered with the veil and the Angie doll in my arms. No matter how well that horrible man treated my little girl, I never trusted him.
“Miss Beneviento, you look well,” the merchant murmured, handing me the things I needed for the week. “Lady Beneviento…”
“Hi, fatty,” Angie said, moving in my arms. “How are you?”
“Great,” he replied, counting the coins I threw at him in an unpleasant manner. “What do you say, Miss? Did you manage to solve last week's riddle?” he asked, looking at my daughter with a sinister smile.
“Of course,” the girl answered, with a smug smile. “The answer is the Sun,” she said, lifting her chin. “Although… there was something wrong with the riddle. Yes, normally the sun rises and sets, but… did you know that there are certain areas of the world where it doesn't rise or set for several months?”
“Oh, I guess I forgot that detail,” the man said, laughing amused at the girl's words. “You got it right again…”
“As always,” Maria said, making a gesture to play it down.
“Come on, we want to see that chocolate bar,” Angie demanded, climbing into Maria's arms while I watched in silence.
“Here you go, Miss…” the Duke sighed amusedly tossing a sweet to the girl, one that she caught gracefully. “I hope I don't make it so easy for you next time.”
“Grazie,” the kid said, kindly. “Mamma, tell him, tell him,” she said, tugging at my dress, somewhat impatiently.
I looked at her and gestured for Angie to come closer.
“That's it, Duke, we want a piano,” I said, speaking through the doll.
“A piano?” the man asked, taking out a small notebook.
“Yes, yes, a piano,” Maria said, jumping on the ground. “I'm going to learn to play it.”
“Oh, that's wonderful, Miss, music is the voice of the soul,” the Duke said, writing something down. “Is an upright piano okay?”
I looked at my daughter, who did the same, nodding.
“Yes, okay,” she said, smiling with satisfaction.
“For your sake, fatso, fatso, I hope you don't fool us,” Angie said, climbing up the carriage and looking at the merchant in a menacing manner. “A nice piano for Maria, is that clear?”
“Like water, Miss Angie,” he said, amused, gesturing for the doll to move away. “Tell me, how do you plan to learn?”
“Well... By myself, I guess, Donna doesn’t know to play it,” my daughter said, making me look at her embarrassed. “Don't be offended, mamma.”
“I see,” the Duke said, looking at me with a mocking smile. “It turns out that I know someone. There is a girl in the village who is an excellent pianist, perhaps, Lady Beneviento, it would be good for your daughter if she gave the little Miss some lessons.”
“A piano teacher?” Maria asked, while I pondered the offer. “That would be great, mamma, say yes, say yes…”
“I don't know, tesoro… I don't like people coming to the house,” I murmured, putting myself at the height of the girl, who made a sad gesture.
“Please…” my daughter begged, putting her hands together.
“Please, please…” Angie said, imitating her gesture.
“Ugh,” I sighed, looking at the Duke, who was impatiently waiting for my answer.
“Well? I promise you won't regret it, my lady,” the merchant said, studying my movements. “I'm convinced that she will get along very well with your offspring.”
“Oh, I…” I muttered, gesturing to Angie, giving up. “Okay,” the doll said, speaking in my voice.
After a few days, the piano arrived at the mansion and, with the unpleasant help of some lycans, I managed to find a suitable place for it. Maria was very excited, but I, not so much. The idea of a gossipy villager entering my house… talking to my little girl… I didn't like it, but just seeing Maria's shining eyes, I got used to it.
“Here she is!” the girl shrieked, running towards the door, which someone had knocked on. It was that disgusting teacher, no doubt. “Vai, mamma!”
“I'm coming,” I said in a whisper, putting on my veil and approaching the door, opening it slowly.
I was expecting to find an old woman, a petulant old woman who was no longer in her prime, but I was petrified. Behind the door, there was a rather young woman, smiling and… beautiful, terribly beautiful.
“H-Hello,” the young woman said, waking me from a reverie. I wasn’t expecting someone like that. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Beneviento.”
“Are you the teacher?” Angie asked, speaking for me, uncomfortably studying the girl, who seemed scared by her presence. I don’t blame her.
“Yes, my name is (Y/N),” she said, extending her hand towards me, a hand that I briefly looked at, but didn’t shake, making her withdraw it awkwardly. “Um… well… so you want to learn to play the piano, right?”
“No,” I said with my hoarse voice, while my daughter came out from behind me, looking with the same surprise as me at that girl. “Not me.”
“Hello,” Maria said, with an elegant gesture. “I'm Maria Beneviento, and I'm your new student,” she said with an amused smile, shaking her hand, something I couldn't do.
“Oh, wow, I didn't know that... that it was you,” the young woman said, looking at me and then at the girl, making a small, friendly bow “I thought I was going to teach you, Lady Beneviento.”
“No, my mother doesn't have a clue about music, she only knows how to make dolls,” the girl said, amused, causing me to give her a gentle slap on the shoulder as a reprimand. “Oh, but she makes them very well, I promise.”
“Your mother? You mean...? Are you her daughter?” the pianist asked, looking at me with a frown and a bewildered expression.
“Yes, of course,” the little girl said, guiding the visitor through the house. “Don't you see how much we look alike?” she asked, pointing to the portrait on the stairs.
“Oh, um… is that you?” (Y/N) asked, looking at me and pointing at the portrait. I didn't move, nor did I say a single word, obviously. “W-Wow, your really look alike, you're like two peas in a pod.”
“Isn't that right?” Maria laughed, taking the stranger's hand and leading her into the living room. “This way, (Y/N)”
“I-It's funny. I didn’t know you had a daughter, my lady,” the young woman said, walking towards the piano next to my little girl, looking at me out of the corner of her eye, distrustful.
“Mm,” I murmured, not giving importance to her comment, approaching Maria. “Tesoro, I'm going to the workshop, Angie will stay with you, if something happens…”
“Mamma… non preocuparti,” Maria said, sitting on the stool in front of the piano, next to that unknown girl.
“Va bene,” I whispered, giving one last look to the young woman, who did the same quickly. I could see the fear in her eyes.
Reluctant, but with no other choice, I left them alone.
It must have been an entertaining afternoon, since Angie didn't warn me of any danger, but she did when that girl was about to leave.
“Grazie, (Y/N), see you tomorrow,” Maria said, waving her hand goodbye, while I, suspicious, walked with the young woman to the door.
“Your daughter is very talented, my lady,” (Y/N) commented, before leaving through the door.
“Mm,” I murmured in an impatient tone, wishing she would leave at once.
“Well, she has to practice, but I think she can be a great pianist if she puts her mind to it,” the young woman said, with no intention of leaving. “It's unbelievable that she's just eight years old, she's very intelligent.”
“I know that already,” I whispered impatiently, handing her a bag of coins.
“Oh, um, thanks,” she said, putting them in her purse. “I was surprised that you had a daughter… well, in the village we never…”
“I know,” I cut her words off abruptly, with a tired sigh. “No one has to know about my life.”
“Yes, well, I understand,” she said, scratching the back of her neck. “Forgive my indiscretion, I know it's none of my business but… What about her father?”
The Angie doll, who was listening next to me, began to laugh outrageously, drawing our attention.
“Stupid,” Angie said, pointing at the girl with her finger and pretending to laugh loudly. “You're so stupid… Donna is Maria's mother, get it? She's her mother, she impregnated a maid and…”
“Angie…” I hissed nervously.
“What?” the pianist asked, looking at me and speaking in a small voice when she realized her mistake.
I, nervous and embarrassed, clenched my fists tightly on both sides of my hips.
“Oh, shit, I mean… I understand, oh, I… w-well, I had heard rumors but they seemed… I mean, it's okay, well, there's a huge woman, a fish man… it's not that I find it strange or anything like that, I mean…” she said nervously, not knowing where to run.
I crossed my arms furiously, wanting to make her live the worst of her nightmares, but then I thought of Maria and I restrained myself.
“Shut up,” I demanded with a firm tone. “I advise you to stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong,” I threatened walking a step towards her, making the girl back off.
“I'm sorry. It's just that…” she said, visibly nervous, refusing to look at my face.
“Does my Donna's penis disgust you, silly?” Angie said, making me burn with rage.
“Angie! Taci, taci, taci!” I screamed furiously, kicking the floor. The piano played in the background, Maria was oblivious to the conversation, fortunately.
“What? Oh, no, no, not at all… I have no problem with that,” the pianist said, putting her hands in a position of surrender. “B-besides, I'm just your daughter's piano teacher, I have no intention of snooping in your… business. I was just… I was just curious.”
“Curiosity…” I began in a dark tone, making it clear to that stupid village girl what her place was.
“Killed the cat, I know,” she finished, with a nervous smile. “I just want to say that, well, that… your daughter is great.”
“Mm,” I growled, looking away and closing the door in her face. “Cazzo, Angie…”
The doll, realizing that she had given too much information, ran off towards Maria, who was playing the keys, surely putting into practice what she had learned.
“Look, mamma, I know the scale,” the girl said, gesturing for me to come closer as she softly played the piano.
“Meraviglioso, Maria,” I sighed, relaxing with the soft sound of the instrument.
“So… what do you think?” my daughter murmured, looking at the floor. “About (Y/N).”
“(Y/N)?” I asked annoyed, sighing as I took off my veil. “She's just some ordinary village girl.”
“No, not at all. She's great, she's super smart, and she plays really well, and she's also really beautiful, don't you think, mamma?” Maria said, following me through the mansion.
“Mm, maybe she is,” I commented distractedly. She was right, that girl was very beautiful… but a nuisance too. “Your lessons, Maria, don't forget them,” I said in a motherly tone, pointing to her study books.
The visits from that unpleasant girl continued. Maria learned a lot from (Y/N), although I didn't like to admit it. Little by little I got used to the presence of that nosy villager, maybe too much, since, from time to time, I came up from the workshop to see how she taught my daughter.
They seemed to get along really well, and every day her beauty was much more evident to me, but I didn't give it any importance, she was still an idiot.
“That's it, you learn very quickly Maria,” (Y/N) said as I approached slowly. “It's noticeable that you practice a lot.”
“Of course I do, so I don't forget,” the little girl said, swinging her legs on the stool.
“Um, Maria… I'd like to ask you something,” the teacher whispered, looking around, probably afraid that I would appear.
That made me back off and hide in the shadows. I wanted to hear what that stupid girl was saying about me, I was sure she would say something about me.
“Va bene,” my daughter said, distracted, touching the keys.
“Hey, your mother…” the young woman murmured, attracting my attention even more. “Your mother is a bit scary, isn't she?”
“Mamma Donna?” Maria asked and shook her head. “Not at all, are you scared of my mamma?”
“Um, well,” the girl said, with a nervous smile. “She's a Lord and… well, in the village everyone fears her.”
“Bah, nonsense,” my daughter said, gesturing with her hand. “That's because they don't know her. Donna is nice.”
“Really? Does she take good care of you?” she asked in a more confident tone, something that made me burn with rage.
How could that stupid woman question my way of taking care of my daughter?
“Oh, yes, she is very intelligent, she teaches me many things,” Maria said, making me sigh with relief.
“Um… what about your other mother? Don't you miss her?” (Y/N) asked, making me want to end her existence.
“Not really,” the girl said, lowering her head. “I never got to know her. Mamma Donna told me that she was her maid and that she… abandoned us.”
“Chiudi il becco…” I muttered in a whisper. “Maledizione…”
“Gods, that’s… horrible,” the young woman said, changing her expression.
“Well, it's the past. Donna took care of me and raised me by herself, and I assure you that it must not be easy to do that, and even more so with a daughter like me,” Maria said amused. “I don't usually give her any trouble, but… she has to put up with me.”
“Mm, I see,” (Y/N) said, tenderly stroking Maria's hair. “I see that I was wrong about her, I'm sorry for doubting your mother.”
“It doesn't matter,” Maria said, putting on a strange expression. “People say horrible things about her, but I know they're lies. My mamma is mentally ill, but that doesn't mean she's not a good person, she really is.”
“Yes, I see,” the pianist said, looking back, without seeing me. “If you say so, I believe you…”
“Forgive her if she was abrupt with you,” my daughter said, apologizing for my aggressive attitude. “She's just very lonely. I'm convinced that her character will improve when she meets someone.”
“Mm, maybe, but being alone isn't that bad, you know? I am too,” the young woman said.
“Oh, really?” the little girl asked. “That's interesting…” she murmured, with a tone that forced me to intervene. “Wouldn't you like to meet someone?”
“Well, I…”
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, walking nervously towards them. (Y/N) looked at me briefly, immediately lowering her head. “It's time, isn't it?”
“Mm, sì, mamma,” Maria said, getting off the stool.
The young pianist stood up with a friendly gesture.
“Your daughter has been great, as always, my lady,” the young woman said, not daring to look at me. “It's a pleasure to teach her.”
“You don't have to be that formal. You can call her Donna, vero, mamma? Maria said, with a slightly strange voice.
“I guess,” I said reluctantly, making the girl laugh nervously.
“W-Well, Donna then,” (Y/N) whispered, with a shy laugh.
“Mamma, do you know that (Y/N) is also alone? What a coincidence, huh?” the girl asked, comically tugging at my dress, putting the stupid villager in a tight spot.
“Maria,” I said in a dark voice. I didn't know why, but that comment made me blush.
“Don't worry, Donna, your daughter is adorable, she just says what she thinks,” the young woman said, picking up the scores.
“Ma, mamma, are you going to let her go?” Maria insisted, making me very nervous. “You should be nice and invite her to tea. She’s been coming here for almost a month.”
“Maria…” I hissed nervously, while (Y/N) laughed again, shaking her head. “Stop annoying her, I’m sure she’ll have better things to do.”
“T-Truth be told,” the pianist said, arching her eyebrows. “I could use some tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Ugh, okay,” I muttered, threatening with my daughter my gaze making her fled with Angie.
That was the beginning of a strange routine. After piano lessons, (Y/N) started to stay with us for a while, having tea, helping Maria with her homework…
Over time, I couldn't say that that stupid girl started to catch my attention, but I did stop thinking that she was... well, stupid. She was a kind, funny girl, who made Maria and Angie laugh, and she was kind to me, kinder than anyone ever was, no one, not even Helga.
I couldn't help but notice a certain conspiracy in my little girl's words and actions, hinting several times at how lonely her poor mother was when I wasn't around, or telling me directly that (Y/N) was single too.
I couldn't blame her for wanting to have what she never had, for wanting another mother, but... it was simply impossible, it would never be possible, although deep down, that pianist girl caught my attention more than I would like to admit.
“Well, I better go, thank you very much for the tea, Donna,” (Y/N) said, after an afternoon of games with Angie and the girl, something of which I was only a spectator. “See you tomorrow, huh, girls?” she said amused, high-fiving Maria and Angie.
“Hey, but it's really late,” my daughter commented, looking out the window. “Hey, (Y/N), why don't you stay for dinner?”
“Oh, for dinner?” the young woman asked blinking and looking for an answer in me. “W-well, I…”
“Don't listen to her,” I said quickly, putting a warning hand on Maria's shoulder.
“Mamma,” the little girl protested, breaking away from my grip while (Y/N) smiled, picking up her coat. “I'm trying to help you.”
“Who asked you for help, brat? Basta,” I hissed sternly but nervously.
“Well… it's true that it's late,” (Y/N) said, oblivious to my reprimands, looking at me shyly. “Maybe it's not a bad idea.”
“Of course it’s not,” Maria said, freeing from my reprimand and taking the young pianist by the hand. “Come, sit down, did you know that la mia mamma cooks like an angel? You'll see.”
“Maria!” I growled, clenching my fists. “What are you...?”
“Show her that what I say is true, vai, Donna,” my daughter said, pushing me by the legs.
I had no choice but to obey, going down to the kitchen to prepare that improvised dinner.
“Mm, where's Maria?” I asked dryly, leaving the food on the table, a table that was only occupied by (Y/N), who looked at me amused, shrugging.
“She told me that she wasn’t hungry and she wanted to leave us alone, you know, so that we could talk about adult stuff.”
“Oh, questa bambina…” I lamented, understanding her intentions.
“I think she's set us up, hasn't she?” the young woman joked, while I, exhausted, served her some wine.
“I'm sorry, I don't know what she was thinking,” I said, apologizing for Maria's behavior. Oh, yes, that girl would get a deserved scolding.
“It doesn't matter, it might be good to get to know each other a bit better,” (Y/N) commented. “Um…” she said, frowning as she saw how, clumsily, I handled my black veil to eat. “Um… Donna, that's not necessary. You don't need it, you can trust me.”
“You'll get scared,” I said nervously, paralyzed.
“No, I won't,” she said, with a lower voice, somewhat trembling.
It was absurd to continue with that nonsense, the best thing would be to scare that stupid girl away so she never came back and stopped… constantly sneaking into my thoughts. With a slow gesture I took off my veil, refusing to see her expression.
“Mm, wow…” the young woman sighed, with a smile that I couldn't interpret. “It's true, you two are exactly the same.”
“Don't pretend. You know I'm horrible,” I said, gripping the fork tightly.
“No, you're not… Let's see… what have you prepared for me?” the girl said, ignoring my hisses and taking a look at the dinner. “Everything looks great.”
“Pici all'amatriciana,” I murmured distrustfully.
“Oh, well, let's check if it's as good as it looks,” she said, rubbing her hands and starting to eat, without erasing that smile from her face.
At first it was a tense, silent dinner, only interrupted by (Y/N)'s praises. Everything seemed wonderful and perfect to her, even… even my face. Little by little, I suppose thanks to the wine, the conversation began to flow naturally. It seemed unlikely, but that girl and I had a lot in common and we even… we even laughed, laughed a lot.
I realized why Maria was so obsessed with her. She was a wonderful girl, kind, funny… and terribly beautiful too.
“I had a great time,” the young woman said with a tender smile as I walked with her to the door. “Really.”
“Yes, um… me too, (Y/N),” I said in a low voice, with a strange blush on my cheeks.
“You know what? I think I now understand your daughter’s insistence on me getting to know you,” she commented distractedly, looking at the floor, turning her ankle on it. “You are a very special woman, Donna.”
“Yes, special is the word,” I said suspiciously, crossing my arms.
The girl laughed, shaking her head and putting a hand on my arm.
“No, what I mean is that… well, I don't regret having gotten to know you,” she whispered in a low voice, leaving behind her words, an awkward moment of silence.
“M-Me neither,” I stammered unintentionally, smiling genuinely.
“See you,” the girl said, removing her hand from my arm with a tender smile, suddenly stepping back. “Oh, bye girls,” she said, waving her hand and looking upstairs, where Angie and Maria were discreetly spying.
“Ciao!” they said in unison when I closed the door, sighing and glancing sideways at my daughter and the doll.
“Cazzo…” I hissed, quickly climbing the stairs while those two mischievous girls fled to their room. “Hey, you two!”
“Oh, mamma, I was going to sleep,” Maria said, putting on her pajamas in a hurry.
“No, young lady, what were you thinking?” I asked, annoyed by the trick, with my hands on my hips. “Who taught you to conspire like that?”
“Um…” the girl murmured, looking unintentionally at Angie, who hid under the sheets. “I only did it for you, mamma, so that you are not alone anymore.”
“Oh, cavolo…” I lamented, with a hand on my forehead. “Maria, tesoro, you don't have to decide those things for me, do you hear me? They are adults’ matters.”
“I know but… I think you two get along wonderfully,” the girl said with an almost pleading voice. “And you two are alone…”
“Maria…”
“Besides, dinner was a complete success, you even took off your veil,” she said with an amused smile, climbing into bed while I reluctantly tucked her in. “Although you have to improve your conversation, you're very clumsy, mamma.”
“That I’m…?” I asked, feigning offense. “Well, it doesn't matter.”
“Don't you like (Y/N)? Not even a little?” Maria asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her eyes.
“Um, I… W-Well I… yes, I like her,” I admitted embarrassed, with a sob. “But tesoro, that's not…”
“She likes you, she speaks very well of you,” she sighed, exhausted, closing her eyes. “Mamma.”
“Mm?”
“If I could go back in time and choose… I would like (Y/N) to be my other mother…” she said in a sleepy whisper, without really being aware she had said it.
I sighed, moved by her words and approached to kiss her on the forehead, thoughtful.
“Mm, I'm not surprised that you want it, tesoro... (Y/N) is... wonderful.”
Admitting that I had feelings for (Y/N) took me longer than I thought, but I couldn't help it. Without wanting to, knowing that there would never be another chance to feel love, to believe in it, I did it, I fell in love with her, madly.
Dinners were common, laughter, too. Sometimes we were alone and sometimes Angie and Maria accompanied us, making the laughter increase more and more. I began to wish for those visits, to get sad when that girl left. There was tension between us, I could notice it, I could notice her bright gaze in mine, silent pauses in which neither of us knew what to say.
Too much pressure and I was too much of a coward.
“You have to do it, mamma,” my little girl told me, while I waited for (Y/N) to arrive, walking around the living room and shaking my head.
“I can't do it…” I sighed, rejecting her proposition again.
“If you don't tell (Y/N) how you feel about her, she'll never know, imagine if she meets someone,” the girl said walking exactly like me.
“It's not that easy, Maria, you'll realize when you're older,” I said in a dark, nervous voice.
“I don't want to lose the opportunity to have another mom just because you're a coward!” the girl protested, nervous, impatient.
I turned around abruptly, gritting my teeth and crouching down next to my daughter, grabbing her by the collar of her dress.
“You think I don't know!? Huh?” I screamed furiously while my daughter, scared, covered herself with her hands.
“Mamma,” she said trembling, making me react.
“Gods… tesoro, I'm sorry,” I said, placing her dress and caressing her cheek.
Maria nodded slowly, comforting my nerves with a tender hug.
“I don't know how to do it, I don't know how to tell her that… that I love her,” I murmured, with the girl's warm hands in mine, controlling my madness.
“Calm down, mamma, I'll think of something,” she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek and going to the door, since (Y/N) had already arrived.
The smiles danced between us again. I had long since gotten used to staying in the living room while (Y/N) taught Maria, to watch her fingers caress the keys, to see her beautiful and tender face, the incredibly sweet way she treated my baby…
“Well, very well, mate,” (Y/N )said when Maria showed her what she had learned. “I think we can move on to something more complicated.”
“Yeah, hey, (Y/N),” Maria said, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. “I thought… I've never heard you play… you know, a whole song. I'm sure my mamma would really like to hear you.”
“Would her?” the young woman asked, looking at me with blushing cheeks.
I looked at her and nodded slowly, tilting my head.
“Mm, okay, well… let me see…” the girl said, searching through her folder of music. “Let's see… Oh, what do you think of this one? It has your name on it,” (Y/N) said, handing a sheet to my daughter, who looked at it carefully.
“Oh, yeah, this one is perfect,” Maria said with wide eyes, looking at me over the paper with a knowing smile.
“Ahem, well…” (Y/N) coughed as Maria stood up to sit next to me.
“Di niente,” my daughter whispered with a discreet clearing of the throat, making me frown.
“Cosa?” I asked, silenced by a nudge.
“Shh… ascolta, mamma.”
The music started to play, and I recognized it immediately.
“Ave Maria…” (Y/N) began to sing, letting me discover her beautiful voice, the most beautiful I had ever heard. “Gratia plena… Ave, ave Dominus…”
My mind immediately transported itself to several decades ago, before Mother Miranda, before the Black Gods, when I was just a girl, a tormented girl. Yes, I remembered those times when villagers were allowed to profess the faith they chose as long as they lived with the dark deities.
They were difficult times, but nothing compared to my current life.
I remember my family singing that song at Christmas, on special occasions. My mother, my father, my little sister, my grandparents… all of us together, like a vision of what once was and never came back.
I couldn't help but let a tear run down my face as I remembered, as I imagined what would have become of me if Miranda had never been so ambitious, if my life hadn't changed, if my body hadn't changed and Maria had never been born.
No, Maria wasn't a mistake, she was the best thing that ever happened to me, my little laughing baby who wondered where her mother was, what had happened to her.
I regret many things, my little Maria, but not having you as a daughter.
I remembered those sleepless nights with inconsolable cries, I remember losing my nerves, my mind, and I remembered… I remembered how I rocked my little Maria, how I sang to her to make her fall asleep in my arms, how I sang that song to her, that Ave Maria, by Schubert…
Damn clever girl, she knew it, she knew that the melody, those words in Latin would touch my soul. I'm proud of you, tesoro.
Slowly, unable to move voluntarily, I got up from the couch while (Y/N) played and sang, approaching her, sitting next to her on the stool. She looked at me, still singing, but smiling.
I looked at the keys, bringing my hand closer to them and looking for a sign to continue. The young woman nodded, with a tender smile.
“Nunc et in hora mortis…” we sang at the same time while playing the keys. It had been a long time since I had done it. “Et in hora mortis nostrae… Ave… Maria…”
“Great!” Maria said, clapping enthusiastically along with Angie.
I paid no attention to her, my eye were fixed on (Y/N)'s and hers on mine.
“Wow, Maria told me you didn't know how to play it,” she whispered after a tense moment, without moving from my uncomfortable proximity.
“W-Well, I don't know as much as you… I'm quite rusty,” I said with a honeyed, but nervous voice.
“Angie, let's go,” Maria said, looking at me and winking, taking the doll's hand that was protesting in a childish way.
“I-I used to sing this to Maria as a lullaby,” I said, daring to break that silence. “It brings back memories to me.”
“It must have been very difficult to raise a girl on your own, right?” (Y/N) commented, playing nervously with her hands.
“Yes, it was but… it was worth it,” I said with a smile, looking at the corner where Maria ran off to.
“Yes, of course, she's an amazing girl, Donna,” the young woman said, looking away.
“Yes, I… (Y/N) I…” I stammered, with a cold sweat running down my forehead, hitting the keys unintentionally. “I'm sorry, I… I want to tell you that… when you're here I… I feel, I feel like smiling again, and seeing you leave… It makes me sad.”
The girl laughed embarrassed, lowering her gaze but letting me continue and gain enough courage to extend my trembling hand to hers, which she let me do, interlacing our fingers.
“I would understand if you said no but… I don't know, (Y/N), maybe… maybe you'd like… not to leave again.”
“Mamma! Don't tell her that! It's creepy!” Maria, who was, of course, spying, shrieked.
“Oddio… go to your room!” I shrieked nervously without taking my hand off (Y/N)'s.
“Donna,” the pianist said, putting a hand on my cheek, turning my face towards hers. “Do you want me to stay? With you?”
“I… yes…” I said looking down, something I couldn't really do, since her hand prevented me from doing so. “I want you to stay… with me, with us and…”
I couldn't continue speaking, since her lips collided with mine without warning, kissing me deeply, slowly, in a sweet and addictive way.
Without wanting to do so, I pulled away, blinking confused, looking at her sweet smile, her eyes shining as she looked at me.
“I'm in love with you, (Y/N),” I finally confessed, throwing myself back into her slow, wet kisses, into her laughter that bounced off my lips, tickling them.
“You're a wonderful woman, Donna Beneviento,” (Y/N) whispered. “I'm crazy about you… And… well, I wouldn't mind staying with you. Well, I would like that you and Maria… were my family…”
“Really?”
“Really”
“Great!” Maria shrieked, running into (Y/N)'s arms, catching her off guard. “See, mamma? It wasn't that hard.”
“Oh, taci,” I said amused, shaking my head.
“It's the happiest day of my life,” my daughter said, hugging us both. “I love you!”
“Hey, come on, stop bothering,” I said, lowering her to the floor lovingly.
“Certo... I have to talk to Angie... my little sibling is getting closer...”
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Wondering if we'll ever get to the point in No Glory where Voldemort is capable of actually valuing Harry's wellbeing over his own/his own desires, because that feels like the next necessary step in terms of healing/making their relationship functional. I'm actually a pretty big proponent that this will probably express itself by Voldemort refusing to have sex with Harry, because of how damaging and traumatizing he realizes it is for him.
The consent problem here, naturally, is that Harry can't meaningfully consent to anything Voldemort asks of him, since Voldemort has too much leverage over him and it provides a perverse incentive structure where Harry can't realistically say no (as exemplified with the most recent chapter). Therefore, literally the only ethical remaining action for Voldemort to take is to always say no, even when Harry is nominally pressuring him to say yes, simply because he is unable to trust that Harry's yes is ever actually a yes rather than a product of the constant threat Voldemort has kept him under.
This is probably the next major emotional revelation, and one that I expect to be coming fairly soon given how the most recent chapter played out (very explicitly showing Harry giving nominal consent to something he didn't want in a terrible situation where he wasn't free to say no and have it be respected). 'Ruination' shattered much of Voldemort's sense of self, forcing him to come to terms with exactly what kind of monster he'd been all along, and 'A Promise' holds the opportunity to shatter Voldemort's illusions about their situation and Harry's true ability to consent (or lack thereof).
This actually sets up a very nice exploration of morality and emotional growth, wherein all the things that Voldemort had convinced himself were unnecessary weaknesses (just treatment for your enemies, restraint, and yes, even mercy) are actually things we do for ourselves to keep from feeling the exact way he's likely feeling right now. At our most selfish, they're not things we do for other people, they're things we do for us.
(I'd actually sent in a previous ask saying that No Glory actually reminds me of the Good Place, weirdly enough, and I think this is why.)
this has actually started to come up a bit already; V isn’t entirely unaware of this situation in terms of consent, even if he hasn’t fully wrapped his head around it yet. From the chapter ‘closer’ (had to go find it to make sure I wants being delusional):
‘Harry grinned, a little delirious as he made yet another bold move. He grabbed Voldemort by the chin and kissed him, hard. He couldn’t tell if the moan that followed was his own or not. He didn't care either way. Harry wanted him closer, closer.
He felt in control. He felt powerful.
Everything stopped.
There must have been much to yet learn about the connection between their souls, because even though Harry had initiated this, it was clearly Voldemort who chose to end it. There was a heartbeat of stillness in which that light vanished, the same moment in which Voldemort severed their kiss. His grasp on Harry’s hair moved to his neck, and it became painfully tight.
No.
Voldemort did not say the word, but Harry could hear it resonate clearly in his mind. One word, and then Voldemort hurled Harry away from him, throwing him by the neck with such force that Harry flew backwards, slamming against the table. The back of it collided with his back, and then he fell, landing hard on his knees. He coughed when he landed; Voldemort’s grasp on his throat when he threw him was short, but violent.
“You think you are in control of this, of me ,” Voldemort hissed. “You have no idea what you are doing… of what you even want to be doing.”
Harry looked up to him, and though his magic was a wall of angry black, there were now unmissable flecks of gold. Harry, still on his knees, smirked. “I think I do,” he said hoarsely.
“You do not,” Voldemort seethed. His aura was a combination of rage and something very close to panic, possibly even fear. “This ends, now.” His face became stonelike, but Harry could sense the misery in him. He inclined his head at him slightly. “Goodbye, Harry.”’
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PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST
Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader
Summary: " I shouldn’t be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."
Warning: Fluff, kiss, impure thoughts, conversation about sex, masturbation, doubts and more doubts.
A/N: Here I am. As a thank you for all the wonderful comments, I will post two chapters today. (To be honest, I already have some stories in mind, but I want to finish Pure Attraction first, so I need to do it a little bit faster.) Keep interacting and voting. Don't forget: VOTE! It brings engagement and more motivation for the author!
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chapter 8
I wave to my mother inside the car, as she reverses in front of our house and leaves, driving down the street of our neighborhood. Eunji works at a medium-sized company and travels a lot for a few months of the year, when she needs to present a new project. It's not new to me. I am used to being alone for some days; what makes me think, however, is Jungkook. I look at my neighbors' house out of inertia, seeing him at the living room window, reading some book. He notices me, opens a mischievous little smile, and waves, winking. My cheeks burn with his attention, and before I can embarrassed myself, in any way, I close the door and quickly step inside.
I still can't believe what happened last night. It feels like an unreal dream. If I didn't have marks and hickeys on my neck and breasts, I would have accepted that it was all a figment of my imagination and that Jungkook and I didn't end up together. I feel scared because I don't regret it and want it to happen again. I don't know where I'm getting myself into, and each time we meet, I sink deeper and deeper into this situation. I feel apprehensive because what I feel for him, I've never felt for anyone else. His kiss when he said goodbye, his dark and big eyes on mine... Just remembering it makes me shiver.
I start to organize myself because I need to take a look at the thrift store. It's been a while since I last went there, and I don't know how is doing. My day goes by quickly, and I return a bit earlier than expected because the movement wasn't very good. I attended to three customers, and only two of them bought something. I climb the stairs at home, tired and hungry, my stomach growling because I didn't even have lunch. I throw myself on the bed and close my eyes, not caring about the heavy clothes I'm wearing. I could sleep even in a costume, that nothing would disturb my sleep. I take off my sneakers with my feet and sigh, relieved to be home.
A few minutes pass when I feel fingers on my thigh, lifting my denim skirt towards my intimacy. I jump up, startled, when I see Jungkook on his knees on my mattress, his face close to mine. He laughs, noticing my surprise, doesn't say a word, and simply kisses me, brushing his lips against mine. I savor his taste in my mouth, silently asking him to deepen the caress and use his tongue with mine; however he pulls away, gives me a peck and another, before standing up completely.
"I could call the police." I joke, brushing the short hair from his face. The haircut is not much different from the previous one, but it makes him look more handsome, if that's even possible.
"I do everything with consent." He mocks, lying down beside me.
"I didn't give you any consent to come into my room. How did you get in?"
"The open window was very inviting. I couldn't resist." He shrugs, smiling.
"Why did you come here?" I raise my head, focused on his rosy lip when he pouts.
"I came to get you." Jungkook says, stretching on the bed. He lifts my right leg, caressing my skin. "And that's not a request."
"I don't even know where you want to take me." I comment, swallowing hard. I laugh a little, feeling the tickles from the tips of his fingers. "And I'm tired. I worked at my mother's store and at the library. And today is Tuesday. I'm dead."
"Your mother went traveling, didn't she? Enjoy it while she's not home."
"How do you know she traveled?" I raise an eyebrow, curious.
"She told my mom some time ago." He shrugs, as if it's simple.
"She only told me last night." I growl, irritated. My mother always does this, telling me her plans always at the last minute.
"I thought you knew. That's why I came here. When the king is in the castle, one cannot court the Princess. Everyone knows that."
"In this case, I would be the Princess?" I laugh, finding it funny.
"Yes. You are definitely Rapunzel. Have you noticed that your life is literally living in a tower?"
"I'm touched."
"It's serious. Come with me." Jungkook asks, whispering, squeezing my thigh. I smile knowing that, the way he asks, I'll never be able to say no. I sigh and roll my eyes.
"You convinced me. Tell me where we're going."
"It's not a very surprising place." He speaks carelessly; suddenly, his cheeks turn red, and he pinches the lobe of his ear, embarrassed. That makes me even more curious. I wonder what he plans, and even though I'm tired, I nod and get up from the bed.
"Alright, you made me curious. But I'm hungry and need to eat something before we go." I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. I kiss his lips in a quick peck, tasting him. A voice in my head tells me I shouldn't act so affectionately because I'm not his girlfriend –or anything like that –but the way Jungkook responds quiets that voice and reassures me it's ok to touch him like this.
"I'll order something for you to eat." He smiles simply. Before I can argue, he crouches down, takes my foot, and pulls off my sneaker. I watch everything, worried and fascinated, relaxing my leg so he can finish the task.
I really like Jungkook. I've admitted that, and it's not very hard to notice. I did things with him because he makes me feel confident in my own skin, and that does me good. He is funny, talented, kind and sarcastic, and even though I don't know him well, the things I know about him make me admire him. The problem is he might still love his ex, and I don't know how far I can unleash my own feelings. I'm afraid of having too many expectations and ending up frustrated and disappointed. He treats me very well, but does that mean he reciprocates what I feel, or does it just mean he is a gentleman who knows how to take care of a woman?
"Done." He says, finishing the knot of my shoelace.
I smile at him gratefully and feel his hand holding mine as we walk down the stairs. I lose a bit of my smile, seeing our fingers intertwined, but I say nothing. I promise myself that I will enjoy the moment and keep my paranoia to myself, for now.
"Are you really not going to tell me where we're going?" I ask when we reach the sidewalk. He shakes his head and laughs before stepping away.
"No. You'll have to wait a little." He replies, opening the gate to his parents' garage. I stand still, waiting for his car when I'm surprised to see Jungkook on a motorcycle, with another helmet on his right arm. I open my mouth, totally impressed, looking from end to end at how huge the thing is. Now I understand why Mr. Jeon was worried, when he mentioned his son's mean of transportation, last night at dinner.
"Shall we?"
"I've never been on a motorcycle." I comment weakly, afraid of falling before I even get on the back.
"Everything has a first time." Jungkook bites his lower lip, watching me mischievously. My face heats up when I remember he said the same thing to me, when I sucked his dick in my room.
"Jungkook, how long have you been riding this thing? Did you pass your practical test on the first try?" I ask, sarcastically. He laughs, rolling his eyes.
"I promise you will come out alive from this." He guarantees with cynicism. He stands up, turns around, and goes behind me. "I'll tie your hair up, wait a bit."
I wait patiently while he holds my rebellious strands and ties them with some elastic. Jungkook takes the helmet from his arm and looks back at my face. He seems super focused and serious, furrowing his brows and making sure my head is indeed protected. He gives a little smile and sits on the motorcycle, waiting for my turn. I am a bit awkward, not quite sure where to support myself, but Jungkook doesn't mind and holds my leg so I can settle in securely. I wrap my arms around his waist, and with my heart racing, I wave between his shoulder and neck.
"We can go." I confirm, uncertain. Almost at the same moment, Jungkook revs the engine and takes off down the street at speed. I hold on tighter to him, tense. I hear his laugh and know he did this on purpose to tease me. I hit his arm, pouting, and sigh, feeling the nice end-of-day breeze.
It's scary, fascinating and a fantastic moment. With the motorcycle rolling, I can follow the sunset, which transforms the blue sky into orange and the usually polluted air, into something purer and cleaner. It's a feeling of freedom, enjoyable and terrifying, the same I have every time I'm with Jungkook. I hold on tighter, happy for the new experience I'm living.
It doesn't take long before the motorcycle stops in the city center. Things are quite busy, with people walking from one place to another and the stores bustling with customers. I can't remember the last time I came here, even though it's so close to my house. I get off awkwardly, and Jungkook follows right behind, taking off his helmet.
"It's here." He smiles happily, pointing behind me. When I turn around, there's a large sign saying "GOLDEN TATTOO" with Jungkook's name, on a seemingly new and well-lit wall. "I managed to finish the renovation today, and I wanted to bring you here to see the place. You'll be the first person to come."
"It's perfect!" I sight, impressed. I'm left speechless as he opens the bulletproof glass and enters the place, as if he were familiar with the environment. It's different from what I expected, with gray-painted walls, plants everywhere, and illustrated designs in large frames. It's a place I would feel comfortable in, even if I came alone. "Did you decorate it?"
"Yes. These last few days, I worked with a design team to organize everything the way I envisioned it. It took a lot of work, but I think it's finally all ready."
"It's very beautiful." I smile, touching one of the frames on the wall. It's a tattoo of an eye, apparently feminine and brown. It's so realistic that it feels like it's looking in my direction. I analyze the drawing so much that Jungkook laughs, lowering his head.
"Did you like it?" He points to the frame, smiling. I nod, touching the picture.
"It's spectacular."
"I drew it." He explains, coming up behind me. My heart skips a few beats when his arms wrap around my waist, and he presses his mouth against my ear. My spine freezes, and I get all goosebumps, from the last strand of my hair to the tips of my toes. "Come here, I want to show you something."
He pulls my hand and guides me to a room with white walls, some utensils and machines that, even as a layperson, I know are for tattooing. It's a very clean and sterilized place, with masks, disposable gloves, and colored inks in a glass and wood cabinet. The almost obsessive organization doesn't surprise me. When I saw Jungkook's apartment some time ago, I realized he likes everything very well organized, and his workplace wouldn't be any different. He sits me on the waiting sofa, and I observe some drawings in a black folder on the coffee table.
I don't know many people with tattoos, and I've never taken the time to appreciate this type of art, but I like what Jungkook does. He creates realistic designs, but most of them have fine and delicate touches. It's interesting to get to know another one of his sides that makes me more enchanted by him every day. I glance at my phone, thinking of my mother suddenly. I shake my head, determined to expel my restlessness. All these worries don't matter right now. She's out of town, and I need to stop tormenting myself about her. Jungkook appears at the door, almost as if he knew I was lost in thought, and smiles at me, mysteriously.
"What do you want to show me? I'm almost going crazy with curiosity." I confess, excited. He smiles, holding a roll of plastic wrap in one hand and raising a tablet in the other.
"I'm going to end your curiosity now." He says. "It's nothing special. I'm just going to do a tattoo on myself."
"What? Another one? Didn't you do one the day before yesterday?" I exclaim, opening my mouth in disbelief. He laughs at my surprise, as if he had said the most ordinary thing in the world.
"I've done tattoos on myself a few times; it's not a big deal. And I have to take advantage because the healing time is always restrict with food."
"Don't you feel pain while doing it?"
"I do." He confirms, shrugging. "But it's not unbearable, and I can stay still the whole time."
"Are you some kind of masochist?" I tease, watching him. Jungkook wraps the plastic around the tattoo machine and on the bench beside me without pausing.
"It's a nice pain." He smiles slyly, licking his lower lip. "It's almost like when I spank your butt. Don't you feel pleasure when there's a bit of it?"
"Jungkook!" I reprimand, my face burning with embarrassment at the question. He really has no scruples. And neither do I, because I hate to admit it, but I actually enjoy it when he spanks me.
"Some types of pain are bearable and nice to feel. You should try it." He suggests, sitting beside me.
"No, thanks." I decline. Just the thought of a needle piercing me, makes me anxious.
"Scaredy-cat." He mocks. He raises the tablet and shows me the drawing. It's a pink, reddish flower. It's a beautiful and interesting drawing, but apparently painful if done by oneself. I grimace, pitying him.
"What does it mean?" His face turns red suddenly. He looks at his hands and bites his lips, thoughtful.
"It's the flower of my birth. The tiger flower." He diverts his gaze from mine, leaving me confused.
"What is it?" I ask, laughing. Generally, I'm the shy one in the relationship.
"It's nothing; it's just that... it means 'please, love me.' I think that phrase is so beautiful and, at the same time, so sad."
"Please, love me." I repeat, testing the words on my tongue. It really is sad but touching. I wonder, however, why he chose that tattoo. "Are you sure you can handle it?" I question, worried, somewhat skeptical. Jungkook turns completely to me and narrows his dark eyes, looking at me.
"Of course I can. Don't doubt my abilities."
"I'm not doubting." I explain, putting my hands in front of my body to defend myself. "It's just that it's a drawing with many details. It's normal for you not to be able to do something like that in a short time. It's already seven."
"Let's make a bet?" He suggests, brushing his hair from his face. I get excited about the proposal, nodding my head.
"Sure, why not? But what can we bet on?"
"If I can't finish the tattoo in two hours, you choose something for us to do together." The dark-haired boy explains, running his fingers on my thigh. A shiver runs up my spine as he trails his fingers on my skin, slowly lifting my skirt with ease.
"Do something together? Like what?" I frown, curious. He smiles, this time wickedly. His hand goes from my thighs to my neck, pulling my hair back. He entwines his fingers in my strands and caresses my scalp with his thumb. A breath of arousal escapes my mouth, beyond my control.
"Anything. You decide."
"And if you win the bet, you do whatever you want with me?" I tease, laughing at my own question. Jungkook doesn't deny it, however, looking at me with a serious expression that, if it weren't for the situation, would disturb me.
"I already know what I want." He says in a husky voice. "If I win the bet, you touch yourself in front of me, like I asked you to."
"J-Jungkook! I can't do that." I choke, shaking my head. I would die of embarrassment. I've tried a few times to touch myself, I confess, but I never succeeded. I always felt awkward, as if something was missing. As if I were a complete weirdo for even trying.
"Are you already thinking about losing? That's not how bets work."
"I've never bet on something like this." I laugh ironically, trembling. His hand releases my hair but doesn't stop touching me. He slides his palm further down and caresses my stomach, which bubbles because of him. I'm so entranced by his touch that I can't stop him and let Jungkook slip under my shirt, heading for my breasts, covered by my bra.
"Think of the other side. If I lose, you can do whatever you want with me." He argues quietly, giving a small smile.
I start imagining what I would do with him if I won the bet. I'm not very creative, but something that really excites me would be to bring him to the edge just like he did with me last night. He denied my orgasm, and I want to do the same with Jungkook, over and over again. Of course, I would have to be very confident, and I don't know if I could achieve my goal, but I think it's worth a try.
"Alright. I agree." I nod nervously. He approaches with a sideways smile and tucks my hair behind my ear, before closing his eyes and kissing my mouth.
I wrap my arms around his neck and deepen our kiss, massaging his mouth with mine. I bite his lower lip, only satisfied when I hear a rumble from him deep in his throat. He smirks between caresses, stops, and attacks my neck, licking my skin and leaving a thin trail of saliva. Weeks ago, I couldn't even imagine a man without clothes in front of me, and now all I want is to suck him off and feel him come in my mouth, just like last night. I still remember the result of his pleasure flowing down my throat, and my desire to repeat everything we did makes my brain intoxicated. I'm completely lost in wanting this man.
"A kiss to seal the deal." Jungkook grunts and pulls away, his mouth swollen. I try to continue the kiss with the excitement eating me from the inside out, but he smiles and stops touching me completely. "I have to start this tattoo if I want to win the bet."
Jungkook stands up and sketches the rose on a piece of paper. My head disconnects from reality while he begins the work. I pick up my phone for a few seconds and see the time passing. I would be more worried if my mother weren't out of town. I leave the sofa, needing to pee, and open a door marked for the bathroom. I take care of my business and look at myself in the mirror. My face looks apparently normal, if not for my flushed cheeks and red lips from the kisses. I splash a bit of water on myself, and when I feel calmer, I return to the tattoo studio. The machine works continuously, and Jungkook seems submerged and engrossed in his task, furrowing his brows, totally focused.
I shouldn't have accepted this bet. Jungkook has several tattoos, and it's obvious that his pain tolerance is high. I know he will win. The way he remains silent and effortlessly pierces his own skin tells me that sooner or later, I'll have to fulfill the difficult challenge. I bite my lip, watching the drawing of the flower being completed as the minutes pass. It's a very time-consuming process, but minutes fly. I am so relaxed and still that I could almost fall asleep listening to the buzzing of the needle.
"Y/N, I ordered food for both of us." I hear his voice suddenly. I jump a bit because I didn't notice he was talking to me, lost in my own head. "I hope you like pasta."
"I really like it, thanks." I say, shaking my head. I'm really hungry.
Before long, someone rings the studio's doorbell. Jungkook even tries to get up to answer the delivery person, but there's no way I'd let him go outside when he's so focused on his own work. I go outside and grab the food bag, seeing that he ordered beer, pasta, fries, and a can of Diet Coke for both of us. I'm happy to notice, in such a simple gesture, that he remembered I don't drink alcohol. My mouth instantly fills with saliva.
"I think you're not going to win the bet." I comment, sitting back on the sofa. I separate my food from his, tasting the delicious vegetable sauce that is the most tasty thing in the world. At least that's what my stomach thinks, given how hungry I am.
"I'm almost done." He brags, still tattooing himself. He passes a paper to remove the excess ink from his skin and raises an eyebrow confidently. "I can't wait to see you touching yourself."
"That's not going to happen." I guarantee with a certainty I don't have, blushing and taking a sip of the soda. It's refreshing, going cold down through my throat.
"Let's see if it won't. Do you really think I'm going to miss the chance to watch you masturbating?"
"Jungkook..." I mumble, covering my face. "Don't you have any shame? Stop saying those things."
"Don't worry, Y/N." He smiles, confident in his victory. "You still have a reasonable amount of time to get used to the idea."
"Focus, Kook." I change the subject; my heart races just imagining myself in that situation. He falls silent and bites his lower lip, looking at me from head to toe with such hunger that makes me nervous and excited. I swallow my food as he returns to tattooing, wondering if he will really finish the drawing in time.
And he does. Of course, he does. In the end, after one hour and forty-five minutes, Jungkook has a new complete drawing on his right arm, along with other tattoos that adorn his body. I finished my food just in time to see him ending everything with mastery and calm, as if he wasn't worried about our bet. His hungry eyes find mine, and I know exactly what he wants. I swallow hard, squeezing my thighs together.
"I think I deserve my prize since I won the bet."
"Y-yes." I respond, trembling. My heart beats loudly in my chest, and I have to breathe deeply to finally realize that I don't feel fear, not even a hint of hesitation. All I feel is lust and desire. A longing to have him closer, to touch him in his rawest form. I sigh, watching him stand up and walk calmly towards me, like a predator; a lion eyeing its prey. I shrink back on the couch, small, now that he is standing. His knee sneaks between my legs, and separates my thighs before he squats down, and brings his face closer to mine.
"I don't want you to touch yourself here." He whispers, like a secret. His dilated pupils when he gazes at my mouth. "In my apartment. In my bed. I want you there."
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#bts#fanfic#jungkook#bts x reader#jungkook smut#bts x you#bts x oc#bts x y/n#bts x fem!reader#fluff#smut#jungkook x reader#bts reader insert#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#jungkook scenarios#tattoos#taehyung#bts fluff#bts jeon jeongguk#bts jeon jungkook#bts jeon jungguk#jeon jungkook#jeongguk#reader insert#fem reader#Spotify
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so here's my honest thoughts on dragon age: the veilguard, after ~40 hours of playing. i finished the main quest after having finished all companion quests and major faction quests. just to clear up what content i saw, i played as an elven transmasc rook who is a member of the lords of fortune. he romanced lucanis (although after finishing the game i'm now leaning towards taash). i don't know what's happening in playthroughs that have a different race, gender identity, romance or faction going on.
full spoilers ahead, i mean it. don't read further if you want to avoid them. i don't want complaining about it in my asks.
oh and also, if you're worried because of a few negative reviews online i can comfort you by saying don't give a fuck about a certain big name youtuber who is very much tied to bethesda franchises giving this a negative review. i'll explain why.
i'm starting off with the things i liked
the game looks really pretty. i was worried it wouldn't feel like thedas anymore (with them trying to "focus on northern thedas only" i thought they'd make a clear cut in environmental design. they do and they don't. it's complicated. i'll elaborate on it when talking about the negative stuff). anyway it does. minrathous feels like kirkwall. treviso enchanted me like the winter palace did. the hossberg wetlands reminded me of the hinterlands and a couple other inquisition maps. arlathan looked like... arlathan. the crossroads were different, but familiar. overall i like the way it looks and feels. it's thedas, with a twist. it's a good one, and gives everything a solid but unique feel.
combat is top tier. if you're a hardcore dragon age player you WILL miss the tactical aspect of it for a bit, but i promise you, once you're used to the way the combat works, you will be lapping that shit up. and once you get to ability combos you'll mourn the control you used to have over your companions in battle a bit less
the MAIN quest and its story. i expected worse, way worse. and for a while the game even had me tricked (harr harr you'll get it in a second) it is Really That Much Worse. but holy shit was it good. i walked away satisfied ngl.
your choices have SOLID weight. there's consequences, good AND bad. i got minrathous blighted, ruled over by venatori, and the leader of the shadow dragons ultimately died because of my decisions. i made those at the beginning and throughout the game. he died at the end. DAVRIN died because i didn't expect what i was saying to have that much weight. i thought i was in the clear. he had hero status. well turns out, your choices can still get your companions killed even if you do everything right. i fucking love him. he shouldn't have made that sacrifice just because i told him to do everything it takes once.
the inquisitor, morrigan and dorian being there, surprisingly. there's also negatives to this though, see below.
speaking of companions dying and the inquisitor playing a bigger role: the final quest feels like me2's suicide mission. i was blown away by it and the fact that i got to see the results of all my efforts playing out in front of me.
bioware are NOT trying to redeem solas. they love him as a character yes, but i wasn't forced to see any good in him. he betrays you. he fucked my rook over twice. he fucked him over right back, for good this time (the veil wasn't torn down, i anchored it by binding him to it, he's doomed to uphold it). but solas really lives up to his name as the trickster elven god. rip to all the people who grew really attached to him over the years.
varric died. if you like him that's probably as hard reading it as it was watching it. varric died and the game lies about it until the very end. when the realisation hits, it hurts. but in the very best way.
the amount of care they put into gender expression and trans identities this time around. (i'll add onto this with negative points as well too).
rook feels very much ingrained in the world of thedas. he doesn't ask questions that expose the player to lore through dialogue as if he's stepped foot into thedas for the first time. those conversations feel very solid and good. i hope other faction players got as much joy out of this as i did.
and the things i didn't like and boy there's a lot unfortunately
the music. let's just get that out of the way holy shit. it doesn't feel like it belongs in this universe. it gets so incredibly sci-fi-y at times you'd think it's taken straight from mass effect andromeda. there's not a single song unique to veilguard that i really enjoyed. it broke my immersion, real bad. hearing a busker play the tavern songs from inquisition on a lute right after i killed some venatori with wobbly bass songs playing in the background is just odd. weird tonal shift. don't like it. it's made for people who like flashy light-weight cinema.
tevinter nights is required reading. the podcasts are required listening exercises. the game is so fast paced, especially at the start, that there's no time to introduce you to characters and how much weight their names carry in-game. i would not have known who half these people are if i hadn't skimmed over tevinter nights. i'd care even less about them than i already did. there is no time to get properly attached to them. people will act as if you're talking to a legend personified and you'll be thinking man goddamn which chapter of tevinter night were they in again and what did they do???
there's a weird mismatch with the animations. you'll have beautifully fluid ones, like emmrich casting spells. and then you'll have rook's face animating in the most unnatural manner that's sorta reminiscent of mass effect andromeda's "my face is tired" addison, when their emotions SHOULD be landing with the player rn instead.
i'm not vibing with the art style. sometimes it works. most of the time it doesn't. at points i felt like i was watching tangled.
that also brings me to some of the dialogue. same issue. i am watching frozen. i am watching tangled. someone on the writer's team really likes the adorkable trope. bellara is its victim.
for all the talk about identity, bioware sure doesn't like theirs. the grey warden armor got a redesign again and it just makes them look like a generic army. i hate it lol
in general, i don't like the armor design. the wardrobe/appearances system is fine, but it's just not helping if all the armors are just... kinda bland or downight bad looking? and don't get me started on the lords of fortune armor. that is orientalism personified.
the world states should have been carried over, full stop. i know they said they didn't because they want to separate what happens in the north from what happens in the south, which... i could have lived with that. but the inquisitor sends you letters that keep you up to date on... the south of thedas. you learn that there's a blight again, that people are standing strong but it's difficult, denerim's fallen, the rulers are taking care of it, orlais is fighting and they're successful for a while, etc etc. what's good bioware. i thought we don't care about the south this time around. why are you feeding me so much boring generic information. if you're not gonna show any of it and just write letters, then carrying the world state over should not have been an issue. i have a game dev background. those few lines of code would not have broken your budget or pushed your engine's limits. fuck right off.
this gripe of mine carries over to all the cameos. as a lord of fortune you have to deal with isabela a lot. it's fun. i missed her. you get to go drinking with her and taash and bellara! also my hawke romanced her. she's not mentioned once. they had the opportunity to put a sentence or two about her in there with not a lot of effort, trust me.
when varric dies, all she has is a single line about it. for gold, for fortune, for varric. she only says it if you interact with her on your way to the final push. that's not mandatory.
morrigan is there. kieran isn't. the old god soul that mythal and then solas absorbed? who cares at this point, the gods are dead now and solas is locked away for eternity. i suppose? why is morrigan there. she feels unneeded. i wish they'd just left her down south, at least that way i wouldn't have had to witness her god awful redesign.
dorian at least feels as if he belongs in this story. the shadow dragons are a crucial part to protecting minrathous. he's also weirdly underutilised. isabela and morrigan had more lines than him in my playthrough.
on the topic of romance: bro that was underwhelming. no, genuinely. you know when romance picked up a bit? after the point of no return. i heard maybe two lines of companion banter about it before that. maybe i missed something which i honestly doubt, but romance did not play much of a role in lucanis's storyline. i saved his grandmother as he wished me to (and if you read tevinter nights you know she was rather abusive and their relationship not the healthiest) and told him to focus on his family. a reunified family my rook wasn't even introduced to as a partner at the end of all that.
really, do not buy this game if you're only in it for the romances. others might be better, lucanis's basically gave me nothing. except for an outing (the second coffee date i had with him, it was getting repetitive) all of it played out once i committed to the final quest. the sex scene was a fade to black. annoyingly right after davrin died. if you're looking for well paced and good spice, pick up something else. the sweet talk and the final goodbye were nice though.
for all the good the ever-presence of gender identity does, it is brought up in such a disruptive manner too. it doesn't even play out naturally if you CHOOSE the lines that are meant to be said. hearing the words trans and non-binary in this setting doesn't feel right, and i'm saying this as a trans guy. i think it could have been handled more gracefully. the amount of times my rook went "i'm a MAN" as if he's about to start drumming on his chest and roaring any second now got super nerve-grating. "i'm so glad you're into me... the me who is trans. remember?" just. tell me one trans person who'd talk like that to a person they've grown close with and are trying to romance. this game doesn't handle sexuality well, so all this hey my body might not look like the way you're expecting it to look talk amounts to nothing anyway. i feel about this the way i feel about krem: this is partial exposition to trans experiences... packaged up for cis consumption. the ONLY exception to that is interacting with taash. holy shit was all of that heartwarming and bro did it feel good and natural to talk to them about theirs and rook's gender.
rivain and nevarra are new locations added by veilguard. they're also incredibly underwhelming, small and constricted maps. rivain is a coastline with a few ruins. the hall of valor is a partial ruin nestled into a cave on a beach, with a fighting pit. isabela is there in her skimpy outfit commentating your pit fights. that's it. i'm sorry if you were looking for a bustling pirate cove or whatever. you're not gonna get it. the nevarran crypts btw are a long ass dungeon crawl. that's it.
speaking of maps. i thought people were being dramatic when they said you're gonna be fighting the same enemies on them again and again. i thought they were figure of speeching it. they're not. you WILL fight the same amount of enemies. in the same spot. every time you reload the map. best to stay on a map and clear out the enemies and do as much questing on that map as you can before leaving, because you WILL have to do it all over again once you return.
the three choices i made for my inquisitor didn't matter lol she didn't have to face solas and therefore couldn't stop him at any cost as she had sworn (maybe because my rook tricked solas into binding himself to the veil, there was also an option to fight him. would she have stepped in? who knows). blackwall wasn't mentioned. and either her using a small amount of her forces in the final fight was the reason the civilians of minrathous fared so well..... or it just didn't matter. ultimately i think she had very little impact on anything
#datv#datv spoilers#dragon age: the veilguard#oh wow i hit a limit typing this#anyway to tie this up a bit: the good and bad to the environmental design being that well-known architecture like minrathous and dwarven#ruins look fire and remind me a lot of the previous games#but newly added locations are very... generic... very bland#i was very excited for rivain. i thought we'd get to see ships. not a bunch of ruins and a fighting pit and that's it#and why did i say to ignore a certain guy's review? bro because he was complaining about taash being ace and that taking up their screentim#and them being too up in your face about their identity. he did all this while she/her'ing them constantly#but my man they're trans. nb. not ace.#y'all need to be careful about bad reviews. they're coming from people who are upset about gender identity being handled as a topic in this#game. meanwhile they have no clue what they're even talking about. i don't think matty knows the difference between ace and trans#and neither do the hundreds of people who are one star rating this game currently#i liked this game. it's not top tier. it's not something i'll sink hours and hours and hours of my life into#it has tonal issues and it's moving away from what made dragon age stand out for me#but i do think that it's a genuinely fun play and people who are very invested in dragon age will squeeze joy out of it wherever they can#i had a hard time warming up to the new characters (taash and lucanis being the exception because they have an older bioware air about them#but solas's and varric's story (and don't get me wrong that's what veilguard is about) is GOOD. that is how bioware used to be.#and i wish they'd given us that energy all over the game. that direness. that grit. serious and mature writing.#that consistency is lacking#and whether you're gonna enjoy this game or not is entirely dependant on what you came here for and how well the game delivers on it#i think their weakest points are ironically the thing they advertised the most: the new companions and their writing#you won't find nuanced and good enemies here (i already reblogged something about this. you can go scroll around a bit and catch up on that#really the only thing that had me super invested and emotional was the main quest.#so make of that what you will. ultimately i was more frustrated with the game than i got enjoyment out of it. i was close to just put it#aside for now... until i went to minrathous to end ghila'nain's and elgar'nan's ritual. that all blew me away. still on a high off of it.#anyway yeah that review got cut short by the character limit maybe i'll add more to it tomorrow but rn... i am heading to bed#thanks for coming to my ted talk. also i'm sorry. zevran REALLY isn't in this.#dragon age
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Is it worth watching Megamind rules? I know I’m not the target, but I’m curious yet also really really nervous. I know it’s for a younger audience but I’m still very on the fence and nervous. Also, love your writing
Omg, thank you, and thank you also for asking and yes yes yes 100% it's worth watching! It got crapped on by a bunch of people who decided based on the trailer alone that it was going to suck (how fun, a movie about a guy who everyone decided would be bad despite not knowing him got a spinoff show that...everyone decided would be bad despite not watching it, lol), so there's a lot of hate out there for it. I'm assuming you've caught wind of some of that, and that's why you're nervous? But for what it's worth, I was staring at the screen like :D basically the whole time.
Some more specific notes below the cut, but the tl;dr is please do give it a chance, if you can find the time. A G-rated direct-to-stream spinoff show wasn't what a lot of people were hoping for, and there were some folks who watched it and didn't care for it. But from a writing and storytelling standpoint, I think it is genuinely good! If you go in expecting a cute kids' show with some silly jokes and social misfits finding their way forward together, and keep an open mind, I don't think you'll be disappointed-- in fact I think you may be pleasantly surprised.
Just a gentle heads-up on some stuff because I'm not sure what you've heard about the show yet, and I'm also not sure what your existing expectations are!
The show was given a shoestring budget and not a lot of time to go from writers' room to final product, and yes, there are places where you can tell. But that was always going to be the case-- Dreamworks was absolutely not going to be spending big bucks on a franchise they've barely even acknowledged in more than a decade-- and it wasn't the fault of the people making the show. And even with the low budget, I think the animation is still genuinely solid, especially in later episodes! The people who worked on it really did a great job with what they were given.
And the writing!!! Holy shit!!! My skin is clear my crops are watered etc. The original writers handled this project and they absolutely delivered. Megamind & Roxanne's whole Thing progresses and grows and blooms in a really sweet and realistic way. Roxanne & Chum have a great dynamic. (Minion's name needed to be changed for legal reasons, but the writers worked that into the show and I gotta say, as a trans person, it was really lovely to see everyone else respond to "actually, because of [spoiler], my name is Chum now" with "oh! cool okay" and just keep rolling. I love that that was modeled for kids.) The character development is tangible; we get to watch Megamind really grow as a person and come into his own over the course of the series. And the new characters are really fun-- I genuinely enjoyed Keiko and everyone else.
Even if you never watch it (it's OK if you don't!) please just know: this was not a cash grab; Megamind Rules was made by people who truly cared about this world and these characters.
It's also worth noting that Megamind Versus the Doom Syndicate (the extended pilot) recaps a bunch of the same lessons as the original movie, so it can feel a little bit "...didn't we JUST do this??" but I'm pretty sure that was because Dreamworks didn't want to rely on kids to watch a 13 year old movie rated PG instead of G in order to get context. So like, I get it. And it's still cute! But it did mean I was nervous about what the rest of the series would be like until I was laughing my ass off halfway through Episode 2. If you're nervous, you can probably skip MMVtDS.
But yeah. I truly do think Megamind Rules is worth watching, and I've been so sad about the reception it received. Thank you so much for asking about it, and not just deciding it sucks and moving on. I appreciate you.
#megamind rules#megamind#AND THE FISH JOKES#OH MY GOD SO MANY FISH JOKES#worth it for the fish jokes alone really#also the executive producer voices one of the brainbots and you can tell he is having SO much fun lmao#it's ridiculous#anyway if kids' shows aren't your thing and you don't mind being a little confused#you CAN just watch the last 3 episodes#i would also recommend Episodes 7 and 8 and 9#and Episode 11 before watching the last 3#i feel like those ones are the most plot-heavy#but also if you get started and you're like ''noooo ahg it's not for me'' that's ok#some folks honestly didn't care for it; that's gonna be true of anything#personally i loved it#megamind rules exists and you can't stop it or me#askbasket#i've actually been meaning to watch it again#i think i'll start doing that now#thank you nonny!
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theotherrookie
"Yep, I can never escape the paperwork." Or her mother's scrutiny. This was going to be quite the tale to tell. She turned her attention back to Lucien, taking note of the great care the fae was using despite a bit of obvious awkwardness. "You'd be surprised. Lucien is stubborn, but he isn't wasting that second chance he got. Russell did more for him than probably either of them realizes." The question now was whether this incident would set Lucien back. He was very set in his ways and being shown that he wasn't so safe just minding his business in his shop had to have been as much of a shock as watching someone else try on him what he used to do. "Well, you settled things with me." she corrected, waving the ring around for emphasis. "Lucien might have different ideas about your eyes." She gave a nod once Leofric was done and sent the ring flying. Raw healing magic didn't require her to aim. "Rook, can you do something for Russell? He still isn't fully recovered." Lucien asked, gently pulling at her cape. "Well, I can give him an energy bar. Doctor Birb recommends a nap– Because I'm completely out of everything else."
"If there are three things that are certain in life, it's death, taxes, and paperwork," Antonio said, "Although I suppose taxes fall under paperwork in a sense."
Bill then nodded.
"I suppose I can get that," Bill said, "And to be honest, even if they did know, I doubt they'd acknowledge it. Lucien seems the sort of guy to keep his feelings on the down low, and Russell would probably say something like 'I was just being a decent' person."
"Good to know," Antonio replied, "Well, I don't care what he thinks I might owe him. He's not having my eyes for real. I have a feeling I'm going to need them."
For future use. He wasn't planning to attack innocent people. But now he had some better idea of what he was capable of, maybe, just maybe, he could actually use abilities for the better, or some more harmless fun for those who might need a lesson in manners.
"Don't worry, I'll, I'll be fine," Russell said, managing a small smile that he hoped would be reassuring.
"I'm guessing it's a lingering aftereffect," Antonio said, "Rest is the best solution, given that it isn't really an injury of the body. While the soul knits itself back together and becomes whole again, some fatigue will be expected."
Leofric then pulled out another bottle of his coat. It was able the size of a standard water bottle and had a glittering purple liquid inside. It was offered to Rook.
"Here, this should help replenish you as well, given the help you gave me," Leofric said then, "It took me a while to get it to taste like cookies and cream, but people find it's more palatable that way."
Russell rubbed at the back of his neck.
"So I uh, I guess I should probably go and, and do that," Russell said, "Unless I, I can help with, with anything else... it feels like I've, I've not really done much here, except look, look after Lucien's jacket."
"I suppose some have a redemption arc, and I suppose some go in the opposite direction," Antonio said, "On this occasion, you are the better person than me, I won't deny that."
He chuckled a little bit.
"Of course not," Antonio said, drumming a set of sharp claws on the top of his walking cane. When had they appeared? "You think I'm going to miss a rare chance to be something more than what I am now?"
Despite all of his efforts. It appeared that Lucien just couldn't be swayed. Antonio could see it in his face, especially his eyes.
"Heh, of course not," Antonio replied then, "Well, you've made your choice. Seeing as I can't have your mind..."
The green swirling mists disappeared from his eyes, and they instead turned a solid black, like that of a long abandoned tunnel. His teeth appeared sharper, and green energy formed around his hands. He then held one of that out towards Lucien, who might have started to feel a horrible stretching sensation inside of his chest.
"I'm going to have your soul."
#theotherrookie#Cynical Magician | Antonio#Frisky Barkeep | Bill#Reproached Paladin | Leofric#Flightless Moth | Russell
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Megumi Fushiguro
Fluff!
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Only You
Megumi and Y/N have been best friends for years, but neither of them has realized how deep their feelings truly go. One fateful mission changes everything.
---
The rain was falling hard, bouncing off the pavement and splattering against the walls of Jujutsu High’s dorms. You clutched your jacket tighter, standing under the overhang and waiting for Megumi to arrive. He’d promised to meet you after your latest mission, but you hadn’t expected him to be so late.
You watched the entrance, a small pang of worry settling in. Megumi was always careful, but something about this mission had seemed off. Just as you were about to reach for your phone to check in, you heard the soft, hurried steps coming around the corner.
There he was, drenched from the rain, hair plastered to his forehead, but with that familiar frown on his face as he approached.
"Sorry," he muttered, looking down as he stopped in front of you. "Got held up."
A relieved laugh bubbled up from your chest. "You look like a drowned cat," you teased, reaching up to brush his hair back, trying to help clear his vision.
He held still, his eyes flickering to your face. A hint of a blush crept onto his cheeks, but you could feel his gaze settle on your hand. His expression softened, just slightly, and he let out a quiet sigh.
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” he said, but there was a gentle edge to his voice.
"I wanted to." You shrugged, hiding a smile. "Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"
"Friend," he repeated, voice low. There was something unreadable in his eyes, something that made your stomach flip in a way you hadn’t felt before. His gaze shifted to the hand still on his head, and he leaned into your touch, if only for a second. "I guess…"
He didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t need to. Something hung in the air between you, unsaid and yet completely clear.
Before you knew what you were doing, you spoke up. "Megumi… if I wasn't just your friend, would you tell me?"
The question seemed to catch him off guard. He stiffened, but instead of pulling away, his hand found yours, sliding his fingers between yours as he held it gently.
“Y/N, you’re… so much more to me than that,” he murmured. "I don't know how to say this, but I've always... you mean more to me than I thought I could even feel for anyone."
For a moment, you were speechless. The rain was still falling around you, but the world seemed to go quiet. Slowly, you squeezed his hand, and his face softened even more, something close to a smile breaking through his usual stoic demeanor.
“You’re an idiot for waiting this long to tell me,” you whispered with a laugh, though your heart was racing. “But I’m glad you did.”
Megumi’s lips quirked into that small smile you’d come to love, and his hand lifted to brush against your cheek, as if grounding himself in the moment. “I guess I’ve always been a little slow.”
You laughed softly, and with your free hand, you pulled him down, closing the space between you. His breath caught, but he leaned in, his lips meeting yours softly, like he’d been waiting forever.
When you finally pulled back, he looked down at you, his eyes warm, vulnerable in a way only you’d seen. “Only you,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "Only you, Y/N."
And as you stood there together, the rain continued to fall, but for the first time, you didn’t care. You were right where you wanted to be.
Short but sweet! Hope you guys enjoyed this!
#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi x you#megumi fluff#jujutsu megumi#megumi x y/n#jjk x reader
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haunted - rafe cameron (18+)
* * * I know if I'm hauntin' you, you must be hauntin' me * * *
note: wrote on here //years// ago but haven't in a while, pls be kind !! also kinda rushed to get it out asap since not october anymore lol so sorry if the editing isn’t amazing
content warnings: 18+ MDNI - smut, afab!reader, unprotected p in v, toxic relationship (on-and-off dynamic), mentions being under the influence of alcohol + drugs, desecration of a room in a strangers house smh, not actually halloween-themed but angsty af ❤️
length: 2.1k words
It was like a practiced routine at this point. A different Kook’s place getting sacrificed every weekend for another unsanctioned rager, the older adolescent crowd seizing any opportunity to get wasted. Plus there wasn’t much else to do on Figure 8, and it’s not like any of your parents really paid enough attention to stop you. More than likely boozed up themselves at the country club down the road.
You’d lost count of how many drinks you sculled back and joints you’d puffed pretty early on. The cocktail of substances that rushed through your system directing your conscious, your hips twisting along to the music without a care about who might be around. But you could tell there were a pair of eyes fixed on you, and you didn't need to look that way to know who was staring you down.
You couldn’t do anything, go anywhere, without your name being tied back to your ex-boyfriend, Rafe. Living in such a small, gossipy town, your long-standing (yet very contentious) affair was a hot topic. You knew it was all your mother ever talked about at the club with her girlfriends - she didn’t have much else to brag about anyway. Plus with not very far to go, there was no avoiding him forever.
One day, you'd been bickering and everything suddenly came to a head, storming out in the middle over a detail you couldn’t even recall anymore. He didn’t follow you out, didn’t text you later to apologize or check in on the status of your relationship. Both of you too proud to concede first, dragging out another melodramatic rift that didn’t need to happen. Your equally stubborn attitudes being your main obstacle instead of the original argument itself.
You ran in the same circles, that's how you'd gotten close in the first place. Your mutual friends urging you to just skip to the inevitable and reconcile, tired of hearing about your tumultuous dynamic. Catching brief glimpses of the brooding boy at every local function you showed up to, whether it was some annual club fundraiser that one of your parents were on the board of or another random house party. Always sensing his unwavering glare but never actually approaching to clear the air with you.
And from his unchanged demeanour, people would probably assume everything was fine. Rafe typically staying reclined against some wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching over you the entire night like some malignant curse. Shooting dirty looks at any guy that even glanced your way. Attempting to cope by chugging down more alcohol, trying to keep him off your mind and just have a good time with your friends, but you knew he wasn't just focused on your immediate surroundings.
At some point, you found yourself wandering through the hallways in search for a bathroom. Getting peace from the chaos as you found refuge in some random guest room. You scrambled into the attached ensuite, clumsily closing the door behind you as you assessed your surroundings as best as you could in your intoxicated state. Eventually composing yourself enough that you could return downstairs, but not expecting to be startled by a tall figure lurking as you returned to the bedroom.
“Fuck, Rafe. You scared the shit out of me." You announce, unsurprised as he grinned to himself at your unsuspecting alarm.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to."
“Did you follow me up here?” You question, getting your answer when he began to mimic a kid caught in a candy store.
"You, uh... You look really good." He compliments, shamelessly ogling you as he gradually approached.
You rolled your eyes, trying not let the sweet words affect you, especially knowing he was doing it to get a rise out of you. He knew it was better to get you alone, when the girlfriends you’d been venting to weren’t there to remind you about how distraught you’d been. Where he could trap you with his comforting musk - a blend of sea-salt, weed and expensive aftershave.
"Come on. Don't be that way, baby..." He pleads.
"I'm not being any way. And don't call me baby." You assert, trying your best to stand your ground. You knew how little it took for him to get under your skin, which took even less effort in your tipsy state.
"I miss you." He admits bluntly, his broad frame towering over you dauntlessly.
"I'm not doing this right now. I’m drunk, I’m sure you’re off your shit too." You protest, rubbing your scrunched-up face in distress.
"You don't have to do anything,” He reassures, his hands taking yours to uncover your features before dropping them to grip your hips. “And we don’t have to talk.”
That was your predicament - You were each other's weakness, unable to turn down the bold advances he would throw your way. Remembering of how much you adored how gentle he was when it was just the two of you, the opposite of his usual aggressive tone and shortness with everyone else. Falling victim to him again just from his commanding touch, trying your best to ignore the way he chastely kissed your exposed shoulder.
“We both know this isn’t a good idea.” You declare, but didn't outwardly reject him.
“Us a bad idea? Since when?” He surveys, sporting a cocky smirk as he realized it wouldn’t take too much convincing on his end.
His half-lidded eyes stayed on you as he waited for your response, gauging your reaction. His lips deliberately hovering over yours, dangling over you like bait. Unsure if it was because he didn’t want to overstep or was coaxing you to make the first move, trying to get you to give in first. He brought one of his hands up to your cheek, instinctively leaning into him as his thumb brushed over the skin.
“Rafe…” You remark softly, knowing he was already breaking down your walls again. “I can’t keep doing this with you. This back and forth. This break has been good for me...”
“So you’re done with me?” He retorts, emitting a scoff from you.
“I know you wouldn’t let me shake you off that easily Rafe.”
“Then why are you still picking a fight?” He raises his brow, his arrogance shining through.
“Because it’s more fun being a pain in your ass?”
“Yeah?” He grills playfully at your mouthy comment, too caught up in his teasing to notice he'd been subtly directing the two of you towards the bed.
“Seems to keep you coming back.” You reply, mirroring his steamy expression as he drew you closer.
He kissed you like it was all he’d been thinking about since you'd unceremoniously walked out all those weeks ago, like he needed to actually convince you to reconsider him. His movements in sync with yours as he helped you lay backwards, letting him take complete charge. Proceeding as if there had been no time lost, as if there was no unresolved tension between you. A disappointed whimper leaving you when he pulled away, which was quickly amended as he pecked down your neck hungrily.
“You always have me coming back, baby.” He mutters smoothly. “Doesn't matter how long it’s been…”
Holding his intense stare, you took the hem of your top and stripped off the fabric, silently affirming that he could keep going even though your body language had given him more than enough permission. He follows suit, removing his own shirt without hesitation as he returned his focus to you. Hooking his fingers into your skirt and ripping it off, only preoccupied with how good it felt being back here with you.
“You just walked out with no fucking explanation. Nothing. You really believe I’ve thought about anyone else?”
“Then show me how much you missed me” You request simply, Rafe wasting no time as he brought his lips back to yours.
He looked down at you like you were his hunted prey, only a thin ring of his striking cerulean irises visible around the edge of his blown out pupils, knowing at this point it wasn’t just the result of the coke he’d done earlier. Reaching behind your back and unclasping your bra, his vacant hand fondling one of your breasts, basically covering the surface with his large digits.
Dragging his lips up and down your torso, the only sounds filling the room being your ragged panting and the muffled noise coming from downstairs, neither of you paying any mind to the party still going on. Carefully making his way across your flesh, nipping at the skin as if to physically imprint you with his mark once again. Not that you'd even entertained another man’s company during your time apart.
His pace was agonizingly slow as he made his way to your panties, watching as he pecked down your stomach gingerly, tending to every area he stopped at. Your breath shuddering when he took the waistband between his teeth, not breaking his heated gaze as he tugged them down your legs. Fumbling to discard his own pants and boxers, hurrying to continue his initial task.
You gasp as his fingers purposefully skimmed against your core, your hands flying to his chest for some stability as you surrendered into his touch. Feeling his accelerated heart rate under your palms, the hasty rhythm matching your own just from the building anticipation. Giving him the same kind of attention, you confidently took him into your grasp, earning a similar, fervent response from Rafe.
Your shared desire unwavered as you angled him towards your entrance, the muted gesture doing more communication than you had for weeks. Instantly getting the fix that no drugs or alcohol had been able to satisfy. The hint of unrest that had been lingering since your last encounter vanishing at his invasion, trembling as he stretched you out and made himself comfortable inside you.
"Fuck," He grunts deeply, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, a wave of pleasure washing over him. "That’s it baby."
He only let you adjust to him for a few moments, too caught up in the fact he had you again to hold himself back any longer. Fucking you like he was making a statement with every thrust, knowing exactly what he needed to do to elicit the reaction he’d been craving from you, your walls enveloping him snugly with every jolt. His name falling from your lips like some sacred chant, sporting a cheeky grin as you fed his ego.
“Never letting you go like that again.” He proclaims, his words only pushing you further. “You’re damn frustrating, but fuck, you’re mine.”
His hand threaded through your hair, holding you firmly as he rested his forehead on yours, not letting up his fierce momentum. A familiar pressure started to build within you, Rafe never having to work too hard to bring you to bliss, slipping back into your accustomed dynamic. Knowing you wouldn’t last much longer, but recognizing the same went for him as his movements got sloppier. Absolute euphoria taking over as he relentlessly pounded into you.
“Say it. Tell me you’re mine.” He growls out, hearing the faint vulnerability laced underneath the demand.
“I’m yours…” You agree smoothly. “Always. Only you.”
This only drove him wilder, making him cling onto you even tighter, realizing he’d been just as lost without you as you’d been without him. Neither of you holding back the urgency that had built up, channeling whatever unspoken resentment that remained into your frenzied actions. Not too worried about how uncoordinated or desperate your efforts had become; just content that you were back together like you were supposed to be.
“R-Rafe, I-” You stammer, barely able to even get that out.
“I know, baby. I got you.”
A strangled moan escaped your throat as your orgasm hit, being fully consumed by him, his own release following seconds later. Leisurely making out as you reveled in your highs, cuddled like you were the last two people on Earth and not in some random bedroom hiding from a sea of your drunk peers. Not in any rush to get up right away, Rafe wrapped his arms around you protectively, holding you against his chest.
You’d kinda forgotten how much you loved being the object of his affection, how right it felt being held and kissed and taken care of by him. It was obvious as you both laid there that you wouldn't be neglecting your relationship again anytime soon, especially over some petty argument. Not missing the smug look on his face as you caught your breath, already back to finding the somewhat patronizing gesture more endearing than you probably would’ve an hour ago.
“What?”
“Do you even remember why you were so mad at me in the first place?”
#divider by saradika-graphics#rafe cameron#rafe cameron obx#rafe obx#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfic#obx smut#obx fanfic#rc
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How does Law deal with his fear of losing loved ones? 😢
Uh, how does he deal with it... Considering what we saw already, I think the answer is "he deals with it badly".
Let's take a closer look at the situations in which he lost people. Fair warning, this will be kinda long and I will go into insufferable number of details, because I feel like it :D Flevance, for starters. First he lost his parents, then his friends from church, then finally his sister, and each time it seems to hit him only harder. One of these traumas would be enough to make you paranoid of losing anyone ever again, but it's a freaking triple portion of that.
Helplessly sitting there in the midst of corpses of his friends, crying and screaming, as if they could still hear him.
His first longterm reaction was losing faith, but not just in religion or god, but "anything". This means he most likely lost faith in people's kindness and compassion (soldiers killing off children and the nun), honesty (again, soldiers tricking the nun and breaking their promise to her to save the children), morality (not even women and kids will be spared), his doctor skills (he didn't manage to save anyone despite being a kid of a doctor), trust in others (because again no one helped him, his parents or anyone else in Flevance. He got out just because he didn't expect to receive any help, he's solely self-dependant at the age of 10 and probably survived on the streets completely by himself too).
Finally, he joined Doflamingo's Family out of desperation, but at first they didn't want to take him in.
He was sitting on a pile of trash, having a really vivid flashback that clearly triggered him and make him lash out at Corazon, full of directionless rage. He was probably thinking they won't accept him into the family after all, so he wanted to take down at least one life of a "scum", as he said it himself.
But even after they accepted him into the family, he's still pretty much expressionless and avoiding getting close with people, which might have been his subconscious self-defense mechanism. If he's not close to anyone, it won't hurt him anymore if anyone dies. He might have been part of the family, getting engaged with his studies and training, but he really didn't grow close with them. Sure, he spends some time with Baby5 and Buffalo, but it seems their interactions are mostly forced by the other kids and didn't start from Law's own initiative.
Like here, "I wasn't asking for [your real names]" and "I only said [my name] because you kept bugging me!". He is not curious about the other kids, he doesn't feel like having fun anymore either (possible sign of depression or traumatic response: suddenly not enjoying things you previously did enjoy). Considering the fact he believes he's gonna die soon, depression would be also pretty much understandable.
Summing it up, at first he dealt with it by putting distance between himself and other people, succumbing to depression, not only feeling like nothing is fun but also thinking it's pointless to even try to change it, and also trying not to think about Flevance (the last part is for self-preserving reasons).
We could see him getting retraumatized over and over again while Corazon dragged him around the different hospitals, and he says it himself: it took so much toll on his mental wellbeing that it even affected his physical health and made the disease progress faster. Anything related to amber lead syndrome and what happened at Flevance, and even just people's reactions to sick people, seem to really affect him in a bad way and psychologically-wise revisit the hell he barely survived.
After he finally got someone he cares about again (Cora-san), he starts to regain his faith in people's kindness and love again (he probably thought no one can love him after he lost every single person who loved him before). Doesn't mean he stops fearing that Cora-san might die and he deals with his fear by constantly worrying about him:
He's so one-track minded about it that he doesn't even pay attention to what Cora-san is telling him. His fear and worry must have been really overwhelming him to the point that he couldn't focus on anything else.
He's blaming himself whenever anyone gets hurt as the result of trying to help him. Later he ever provokes Vergo just so he would harm Law instead of Cora-san, because Law can't deal with the thought that someone dear to him would suffer for his sake or because of his mistake.
Next step is him trying to compensate for the damage. He literally does everything Cora-san wants him to do, even go and talk to a Marine, despite having really hard time doing it (he has bad memories of the Marines and he might have feared them at this point).
Despite promising to stay put, he wants to get out of the chest as soon as he hears gunshots (after all last time it happened, Cora-san ended up badly injured!). But what would he do next, if he truly managed to get out? You can guess it, he would take the blow for Cora-san instead of him. He tried to do the same before, take the beating from Vergo so he stops harming his Cora-san. Law's not beyond self-sacrificing himself if it saves people who are dear to him. He would prefer to die himself than seeing them die (especially for his sake) and not being able to do anything about it.
That's why he says this despite the fact he's in such a bad state he can't move. But he doesn't worry about himself, only about his crew's wellbeing (they can't die on him!).
It's the same in Dressrosa. He either sacrifices himself for them so they can escape (he almost died there, lost his arm, was buying time for Luffy; all of these actions count as sacrifice), or he dies together with them. Technically, what Bepo did by saving him makes Law 100% re-live his past trauma again.
And since trauma is a vicious cycle, that means he might go back to his previous stages after he lost to Blackbeard: putting distance between himself and people, keeping people dear to him safe (which means away from him), trying to focus the possible backlash on himself instead of on them. Generally, he would make sure they don't get harmed for his sake. He might go on another solo mission, leaving his crew behind, just like he did for Dressrosa and Punk Hazard (until he stumbled upon Strawhats, but he also wanted to break the alliance before they get too engaged into his plan, despite barely knowing them).
That could potentially also make us better understand his refusal to get saved by Luffy back in Dressrosa, especially after Law made sure that Doflamingo lashes out at him, not Luffy and the Strawhats, sacrificing himself for them and buying time.
He also deals with his fear by being overprotective. What could he even do for Luffy here if someone attacks them? He couldn't even move or stand up! He would protect Luffy simply by bodyblocking, taking harm in his place... His own survival or wellbeing be damned.
So the second phase of him dealing with his fear of losing people is being overprotective of them, pushing them out of harm's way even at the cost of his own wellbeing or life (sometimes that means tucking them away in a safe place, sometimes it means taking the damage on himself in their place), and agreeing with anything and everything to compensate for putting them in danger, as long as it doesn't harm them. For example, they want to carry them for half of Dressrosa in uncool fashion? So be it, as long as they're not in danger.
That's Law's way of dealing with his fear at it's worst. At it's best though? Hearts and Luffy taught him again how to have faith in people. Bepo, Penguin and Shachi (and Wolf) opened his heart after he had again no one left (second time in his life already) and simply were there for him, and he returned the favour. He lived in quite a peaceful town so for a while he didn't have to worry about losing them (though he had to save their lives twice anyway, always overdoing himself in the process and doing everything by himself, because he couldn't mentally handle the possibility of losing them). Yet soon after trouble in the town happened, he decided it's time to leave the island for good and maybe it wasn't just a coincidence; his fear of losing people might have finally pushed him to take that step.
Law also trusted Luffy to deal with the Sanji's situation on his very own. He could have gone with Luffy to Whole Cake Island, simply because he was worried sick and afraid he might lose him, but he chose to *have faith* in him instead and to wait for him in Wano. What's the difference between this situation and Dressrosa? I guess the urgency. In a normal situation, he can convince himself that it's okay and people won't die on him, if he tries hard enough to fight his fear. Perhaps he also takes some measures to prevent bad stuff from happening, to calm his mind (could he help Luffy in any way on the Whole Cake Island despite not being there by himself? Who knows. But I wouldn't put it past him). But when the situation is dire, he loses to that fear and does really reckless things to protect people. Thankfully, he still has enough awareness to not die on people either, but at times it gets alarmingly close (again, nearly dying in Dressrosa, putting himself in jail in exchange for freeing his Hearts in Wano).
Third time's the charm, let's see how he reacts after the scare of losing his crew to Blackbeard and probably believing, yet again, this is all his fault, because he's the captain and responsbile for their wellbeing. What do you think, after Law lost did the Heart Pirates throw themselves between him and the enemy to protect him?
Because I think they did, 100% certain of it. Law would take it really badly. He would feel like he's again in his past, having to watch his parents and sister and kids dying, or Cora-san being shot to death, and Law again can't do anything about it. That ought to crank up his fear of losing people to 1000%. We can't really expect rational behaviour out of him as the result. I think he will do anything to never repeat it again, and that doesn't mean training like crazy with his crew, but instead leaving them behind so they're out of the harm's way. It is definitely not one of his better days, in which his faith in people will win over his fear of losing them.
I don't know how much he's bluffing when he says things like that, both in Dressrosa and Wano, but even if he himself doesn't always believe in this, just him saying it to others means a lot. Also faith in others doesn't have to be "blind faith". I think it's unreasonable to expect Law to have blind faith in *anything* after what he went through in his life. But he seems to never doubt Luffy, for example, and that's also a sign of his belief in him. Doesn't mean he won't worry his ass over him or that he won't become overprotective, because one doesn't exclude the other :)
And a bonus: how I wish Law dealt with his fear instead. I want him to have a strong crew that he can have faith in to take care of themselves, to trust his dear people to prioritize their own survival (even if it's Usopp's style!) so he won't have to worry for them dying for the cause. And he should definitely stay close to Luffy, because they both having self-sacrificing tendencies and they both worry about each other so much. They can learn together how to be better about it. But Law's fear will always come back in worst situations, because something so deeply rooted can't just go away and never resurface. I'm sure he can manage it better though, we saw him doing that in Zou!
#one piece#trafalgar law#ask#trauma#Law and his self-sacrificial streak#thank you for this question anon ❤
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https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/765958548506198016/yesss-i-loved-that-side-angst-plot-where-samy-just
uh hello i love this. i need more and sammy explaining why she didn’t call and everything and will is still hurt but it hurts more knowing she is still learning to open up to him again and she’s scared to do that.
because i think sammy did want to call will probably right away but she still is trying to heal from all the pain from will that she is still scared to be open with will and she was just hurt and confused and didn’t know what to do
part 4?? should this be a small mini series? do we want more parts on this? i actually love writing this HAHA
au masterlist
samy was a bit disoriented still when there was a small knock on the wooden door. she looked up expecting one of her parents or luke, but becoming pleasantly surprised when she saw gabe and ryan lingering instead.
"hey hughesy," ryan stepped in first, eagerly opening his arms to hug her. the brunette grinned, slowly pushing herself up to wrap her good arm around his larger frame.
"hi guys. thought you were my mom or something," samy chuckled while gabe carefully hugged her next. ryan went to pull up the empty chairs closer to the bed for them.
"glad it's us then and not her?" the darker-haired boy teased a bit and samy nodded. she loved her parents, but they've been down her throat since she woke up, hardly leaving her alone.
"how are you? luke told us it was a tendon tear. that shit sucks," ryan mumbled, shaking his head as him and gabe sat down.
samy fell back into the bed, a small sigh escaping her lips while getting herself comfortable again. "i'm okay. i'm pretty high on pain meds so i don't feel much. disappointed about being out for awhile though."
"yeah, that's the worst. do you know when you'll be back?" gabe wondered.
"well, i have to wear the sling for 6-8 weeks. complete healing isn't for like 6-9 months though, so i guess it all depends on what i can handle, what my doctor wants, what coach wants.." she trailed off a bit, more disappointment clear in her features after the excitement that was this season and now possibly not getting to even really play it.
"oh shit, that's kind of a long time. will you be able to play championships?" ryan's eyes widened.
"maybe. it all depends," another sigh and the boys shared her feelings as the three went silent for a moment.
someone's phone vibrated on the bedside table and it wasn't ryan's or gabe's because their phones were in their pockets. samy's gaze swept over to the screen at the same time gabe's did—both of them seeing will's name come up. the girl quickly looked away, a flush settling onto her cheeks in embarrassment? she couldn't really place her feelings, so she avoided the look gabe gave her and ryan's confusion when he saw the two exchanging glances.
"have you called him yet?" gabe didn't beat around the bush with this one earning a small grimace from the girl in the bed.
she didn't say anything so gabe took that as a no. ryan quickly caught on knowing they couldn't be talking about anyone but will.
"luke said he called him to update him while i was in surgery," samy mumbled softly as if that was her excuse as to why she hadn't called him yet. she knew it wasn't a excuse, but for some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to call the blonde in california.
"but why haven't you called him? you know he's waiting to hear from you," gabe softly pointed out, not wanting to push it.
"i know, i know...i just..i..don't know. i don't want to burden him you know? he's got a game and i don't want to distract him. i'm fine so it doesn't matter," more excuses tumbled from the younger hughes' lips and she hated seeing the boys' expressions of slight disapproval.
"you think you're a burden to him? you know that's not true," gabe shook his head because if anyone knew how much will cared about samy it was him. every late night phone call, every text, every glance—he saw it all and samy was never a burden in that boy's mind.
"no, i know that. i just..fuck. i don't know.."
"you're just..scared of opening back up to him?" ryan cut in softly when samy stumbled over her words. her eyes shot to his that he captured her feelings so perfectly.
"yeah, maybe. is that stupid?" the brunette mumbled, almost ashamed that she couldn't call her boyfriend.
"it's not stupid, samy. he hurt you and broke your trust. that kind of betrayal doesn't just..disappear when you get back together. it takes time rebuilding that," ryan immediately assured her and she knew he was serious when he called her samy and not hughes or hughesy.
"then why do i feel stupid and why can't i bring myself to call him or answer his messages?" the girl frowned while burying her face into her hands. a gentle, comforting hand fell on her arm.
"your brain? i get it. opening up again to someone who hurt you isn't easy, but i do know that will does care. you're not burdening him or whatever. he's your boyfriend. he's supposed to be there for you and help you through hard things," when she reopened her eyes ryan was rubbing her good arm in soft strokes with a reassuring smile.
gabe also mirrored his expression.
"i'm just scared i'll run him out or something again by putting stuff like this on him on top of hockey. i don't really know what i'd do if that happened again," the youngest hughes chuckled to try and laugh her slight tears away.
"well he'd be a fucking idiot if he pulled that shit again," gabe added making everyone laugh more.
"i guess it's still kind of fresh, you know? something i still think about like..a lot. more than i should probably. luke, jack, quinn, and all them are still getting used to us being back together too. i got scared. whatever," samy shrugged as she wiped at her wet eyes.
"completely understandable. he hurt you. you don't owe anyone anything, hughesy. call him whenever you're ready, or we could always call him, too," ryan smiled softly and she appreciated it. she squeezed ryan's arm back, finally getting rid of all her tears.
"thanks. i'll call him eventually. i just need some more time and not be high on pain meds," they all shared a laugh.
when gabe and ryan left after an hour samy was left by herself for a bit meaning she was left with her thoughts, too. the younger girl stared at her phone that had will's number pulled up on it. all she needed to do was press call, but something kept stopping her. the thoughts in the back of her head that she was burdening him despite what gabe and ryan said; the thoughts of being too much; the thoughts of him running out on her again.
she just couldn't call him no matter how hard she tried fighting those thoughts, so will's contact stayed untouched for the rest of the night.
#will smith hockey#hughes!sister x will smith au#samy x will#samy hughes#will smith x oc#will smith imagine#boston college hockey#boston college#uofmichigan#umich hockey#umich#umich wolverines#umich wolverine#umich soccer#umichsoccer#san jose sharks#will smith hockey angst#will smith hockey fluff#sjs#sj sharks#ws6#wsh2#san jose sharks fic#nhl#nhl hockey#nhl blurb#nhl imagine#nhl fic#bc eagles#bc hockey
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