#indirectly but better safe than sorry

[quarklynx]

I opened up the app to say that it is now technically my birthday just to see someone's untagged ideation posting

Can't get this social media experience anywhere else folks

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[prettybbychim]

routine bloodwork this morning yay when i scheduled the appointment last week, the receptionist told me no food or drink after midnight. i’m used to this by now so no problemo miss ma’am

i go to the appointment today and the phlebotomist can tell i’m dehydrated by looking at my veins (bc they’re wizards) and she’s like did u drink anything today? no. she had this look on her face i can’t even describe but i think it’s negative so i backpedal and say that i was told not to!

she’s like, who told you not to drink anything? i tell her and she says no it’s much better for me if you drink water. more water the better

i feel like she’s getting a little irritated and i immediately think it’s towards me and i’m bracing myself to be her pin cushion

the logical side of my brain kicks in (the one that’s mostly dormant) and deduces no, she cannot be mad at me. i only did what i was told. im a good boy. and who told me? that other lady. yeah she’s mad at the other lady. bad lady

phlebotomist takes my blood nice and smooth which is a miracle bc i’m usually pricked 50 times in my arms, wrists, and hands before they find a good vein. i more than not end up bruised with a blown vein. fun times

anyway she might’ve been terse but she can’t possibly be mad at me and i didn’t become a ratty pincushion

SUCCESS (?)

[hannieehaee]

hi good morning! (or afternoon or evening)

how about a svt scenario thing where you’re an idol (and dating them) and you get injured by a crazy saesang that’s obsessed with your s/o?

basically, y/n is an idol in a popular group and at a fansign event, a saesang rushes towards her and attacks her, injuring her with smth (there’s blood) and vroom hospital etc etc. how would svt react?

idk this has been my brain-worm for the past few days

thank you 😊 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

a sasaeng attacking their idol!reader gf

content: mentions of stalking, mentions of being attacked, mentions of injuries, mentions of hospitalization, reader is an idol, a lil angsty, etc.

wc: 1559

a/n: thank u so much for ur request! sorry for the delay hehe (these scenarios are assuming ur relationship is public knowledge btw <3)

masterlist

seungcheol -

no one had ever seen him this angry. even his members kept away from him upon noticing his furious demeanor after getting a call from your manager informing him that you had been taken to the hospital to tend to some bruises and scratches you had undergone after one of his stalker fans had quite literally jumped at you from across the table, having made themselves pass as your fan. would not comment on it publicly, simply choosing to cut his promotions short and taking a quick break to tend to you. the only thing to alleviate his anger would be your presence and knowing that you were now safe. would demand both pledis and your own company enforce better security, incredibly frustrated that you even got a single scratch on you due to their negligence.

jeonghan -

not being one to hide his emotions from fans, he would express frustration at it, mentioning it on live when consistently questioned about it. would state his disappointment, but would make it clear this was directed at fans who knew their actions were morally wrong. he would probably not do much about it other than make sure your security amped up, not wanting to get in the way of your own idol career or draw more attention to this, but having your security as top priority. would put extra focus in babying you and tending to you at any and every moment he was off work.

joshua -

he'd be very emotionally affected by it. you'd be able to tell by his quieted down demeanor after the incident that he felt put off by any public appearance, thinking that anyone around him could be a crazed fan who wanted to inflict pain on his loved ones. would continue schedules as normal, but his personality would remain tame for a while, while he recovered emotionally from the guilt he felt at indirectly putting you in danger. he'd feel extremely apologetic towards you, even if you told him you were fine and did not blame him for any of it.

jun -

his lighthearted demeanor would shift immediately. he would take a hiatus, taking you with him to china so he could have you to himself for a month or so. would not care about any repercussions to his idol career, considering your safety the top priority. would become serious for a while, only bringing back his loving and playful personality when interacting with you or any of his other loved ones. would never speak about this publicly once he came back from break, simply acting as if nothing happened. he would've had to demand both your company and pledis amp up any and all security for you the moment you came back from your own hiatus.

soonyoung -

the usually lighthearted and silly boy would turn stoic for a while. he'd never express his frustrations outwardly, but would now feel a constant sense of disappointment at both himself and at any crazed fan who would ever dare even think of putting their hands on you. would be super apologetic to you, begging you to not end it because of this incident. the only thing that would calm him down would be your reassurance that it'd take far more than one obsessed fan to drive you away from him. would dedicate all his free time to you and take on a more protective attitude towards you.

wonwoo -

would probably go on a short hiatus. you were one of the most important people in his life. he had kept the relationship secret as much as he could, but after dispatch outed you two as a couple, you had begun to receive more threats than usual. now not only from your own stalker fans but from his too. would be absolutely devastated he was the cause of your pain. he could never leave you out of his sight again, feeling an innate need to protect you. would stay gone and just be with you for a few months before returning to his idol duties, never speaking publicly about what happened.

jihoon -

pure disgust and annoyance. the same way he calls out sasaengs on live for pestering him with calls, he would bring this up too. saying that he's tried to ignore it but that some things go too far. would feel bad if any other carats felt uncomfortable by his scolding, but would feel so incredibly frustrated the love of his life was put in danger due to someone liking him way too much for safety. scared you might feel like this is too much to deal with, but would respect if you decided the relationship was just not worth the pain. would thank you immensely the moment you told him he's worth all hurdles, that you simply needed better security.

seokmin -

it was rare to see seokmin angry, and he had never been this angry. fans would be able to tell after the incident that his demeanor had shifted completely. would take him about a week or so to go back to his bubbly self while in public, having gotten the scare of his life when he got a call from your manager claiming that an obsessed dk fan had launched at you at a fansign, makeshift weapon in hand as they managed to mangle some of the skin of your arm before being swiftly taken away by security. he wouldn't go on hiatus, but he'd spend every passing minute with you as he apologized and reassured you no one would ever hurt a hair off your head ever again.

mingyu -

would also go on a quick hiatus. he hates calling out crazed fans, knowing it only incites them to do deranged things like this even more, being aware that they'll do anything to get a reaction out of him. so he wouldn't give them one. he would simply step back from idol duties for a while, joining you in your own hiatus as you emotionally (and physically) recovered from the attack. would try and give you an out, telling you that if dating him put you in danger then maybe you should reconsider your options, he would always love you but he would understand. would feel instant relief the moment you cursed him out, telling him a few injuries were not enough to drive you away. he'd swear to never let you out of his sight again.

minghao -

another member who would be extremely angry. would do his best to stand by you and show his support towards you even if it meant putting your relationship even more into the public eye. you would be his one and only priority. he would bring it up at some point in an interview or statement, airing out his frustrations at sasaengs who thought of him as anything more than an idol. would put a brake on fan-idol interactions even more now, now even toning down most of his fanservice to avoid fans getting the wrong idea that he'd ever look their way when he had you.

seungkwan -

just absolutely terrified. he'd never felt more fear in his life than the moment his manager informed him of the news that you were in the hospital due to one of his stalker fans attacking you. would feel incredibly guilty and beg you for forgiveness as he visited you at the hospital. the only relief he felt at the situation would be your insistence in telling him you were fine and that this would not break your relationship. he'd become overly attached and protective of you, demanding his own company to provide security for you, claiming that this was a personal issue and that he would not rest unless you were as protected as possible.

vernon -

would be brooding and cold for a while. he would've dealt with the situation behind the scenes, not wanting anyone to see his reaction, knowing that acknowledging the situation publicly would only cause more crazed fans to try and do the same. he'd back away from the public for a while, only participating in any mandatory schedules and even then he would keep himself hidden in the back as much as possible. would feel a little guilty for technically punishing all fans when it was only a few who acted like this, but would need some time to recover from having put the love of his life in danger.

chan -

this was brand new territory for him, so he would feel absolutely taken by surprise. he never would have imagined someone to try and come after the love of his life, much less under the claim that it was for his own good. no words could describe the guilt he felt at seeing you at the hospital, scratches in your face showing the damage the fan was able to inflict before security pulled them away. would curse at your security team, claiming this couldve been way worse, and that they risked your life. would also apologize for his part in it, knowing that if he was out of the picture this never wouldve happened. would take a short break from idol activities to spend a week with you holed up at a safe location, spending the entire time showing you how much he cared for you and how he would protect you from now on.

[lainiespicewrites]

I Just want to feel safe Part 2

Okay this took me literal weeks! And I’m sorry! But I’m happy with how this turned out I think. Here is part 2 of my Walter Fic! Again this has kind of become an SVU crossover and I’m not sorry 😂

Let me know what you think ❤️

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, cursing

Also there’s a POV switch because I wanted to try something new.

I own all of my mistakes here! I’m sure it’s not perfect but it’s mine.❤️❤️

Part 1:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I woke up in the morning the detective was back in his office. He looked up from his computer when he heard me stop in the doorway.

“Good morning,” He spoke softly, offering me a warm smile as continued sifting through some case notes.

“Hi,” I said shyly, a little unsure about this situation now that I was of sound mind. Still he was warm and welcoming in his demeanor. Despite all that had happened.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, taking a moment to think about how to answer. It shouldn’t be a difficult question. But the last few weeks, everything seemed to feel that way. It all felt heavy and difficult to navigate. Although I wasn’t looking for more pity from this man I gave him an honest answer.

“I slept, which is more than I can say for the last few nights.” His lips quivered into a sad smile and he nodded.

“I thought about something this morning,” He said as he pulled open one of his desk drawers and started rummaging through it. “I’m not sure if you’ve considered it or if it’s something you’re already doing..” He said as he continued to search through the drawer. Finally he found what he was looking for, a business card of some kind. He took it out of the drawer and held it out for me to take. I entered his office and took the card hesitantly. I waited for him to speak again before I looked at it. “We’re given a lot of resources in the police department. And although I didn’t have much luck with her, it was mainly my own fault. I’m terribly stubborn I suppose,” He chuckled awkwardly trying to reign in his rambling. “I hear she’s an excellent therapist. She’s very kind.” I nodded. I examined the card. It gave the therapist's name and hours. The address and the phone number. I bit my lip contemplating again. He just shared something personal with me. Indirectly, albeit, but still. He didn’t have to tell me he’d been to therapy himself. But at the same time, I had tried it too. But I never felt comfortable opening up. It never worked. He wanted to help. And I had to face the fact that tonight I had to go home. And be alone again. I couldn’t keep staying with him. This was strange enough as it was.

“Thank you,” I said finally. It was the only thing I could say. “I’ll keep this in mind. I appreciate all you’ve done and all you’re doing for me. Detective Marshall.”

“It’s my job,” He said softly. But that was it. I mean, was taking a distressed victim home with him part of his job? Or was there something about me that made him want to help? Or am I losing my mind and catching feelings for the first person who made me feel better. I shook my head. I was losing it. I was sleep deprived and overwhelmed and we were truthfully just getting started. I needed to get a grip.

“Yeah,” was all I said in response. He let out a short breath and stood up.

“We should get to the station. Get things rolling,” He said. I nodded and followed him as we exited his house and got into his truck.

The ride to the station was mostly quiet. But there was one burning question I couldn’t keep to myself. “Once I give you my statement, will you … will you have enough to arrest him?” I asked. Walter was quiet for a moment but his grip on the steering wheel got tighter. There was a tick in his Jaw as he thought about what to say. I suppose that was all the answer I really needed.

“It could be,” He said plainly. “However,” he added, his voice a little more pained. “With as long as it’s been and with the lack of evidence, we’ll likely have to do a more thorough investigation before we can send your case to the prosecutor, in order for them to send us the okay for the arrest.” My heart dropped.

“So you’re saying there’s a chance you won’t even be allowed to charge him?” I couldn’t help the urgency in my voice. That’s not what he said. “You said you put people away on less!” I cried. “I change my mind, I don't.. I don’t wanna do this!” I was panicking. I wasn’t worth it. I knew it wasn’t. Reliving telling this. And how many more times would I have to do it. And what if it’s for nothing. Walter stopped the truck pulling over on the side of the road. He sighed. Leaning his head back against the headrest and then turning to me.

“Alayna, this isn’t hopeless, I need you to trust me. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I wasn’t sure I could help you. I have put men like him away with just a witness statement. It’s just not easy to convince the court to let us move off of something so…” he paused trying to find the right word.

“Weak?” I spoke.

“That’s not what I was going to say.” He said softly, he reached for my hand gently putting his hand over mine before tentatively lacing our fingers together. He sighed again. He was frustrated, not so much at me, just that he was also stuck. Bound by the system to do things by the book. He ran his other hand through his hair and let it fall to his lap. “My job is to keep you safe. Beyond that, I want to keep you safe. I want to help you. I’m not going to let them sweep you under the rug. I’ve seen how this affected you. How it still affects you. I can’t force you to report this. But I can tell you that if you ask me to take you home right now. I’m going to lose even more sleep tonight worrying about you than I would if I were working your case.”

“What happens if they refuse the charges?” I asked meekly, staring at the floor. I felt him squeeze my hand.

“I promise you, he’ll never touch you again. I’ll keep you safe.” He said. I looked up at him. Meeting his eyes. They were darker. Something fierce. I was going to ask another question. I was going to ask how he could possibly know that. How he could be so sure. Why would he promise something like that? But looking in his eyes. I knew. He wasn’t going to let the prosecutor deny the charges. He was going to fight for me.

“I’ll go.” I said finally. His face softened and I felt his thumb brush over the back of my hand before he pulled away from me and veered the truck back onto the road. The rest of the drive was quiet. But there was less tension now then there had been.

At the station, Walter took me into a room where they interviewed the witnesses. This was nothing like what I was used to on TV. It wasn’t a dark, dingy interrogation. It was warm, comfortable, and bright. There was a couch along the wall. I sat there and watched him as he sat across from me in a chair and explained the process.

I probably should’ve paid better attention to what he was saying. But I couldn’t. It’s why I was confused when he set a tape recorder on the coffee table. He must’ve read the look on my face because he gave me a gentle smile and said.

“To record your statement for the prosecutor's office I may have to ask you a few questions as well. And then you’ll write it.” He explained. Likely repeating himself. I nodded.

“And then I’m done?” I asked desperately. He nodded.

“Then you’re done. If it were recent we’d collect any evidence and take you to the hospital for an exam, but we don’t really have a reason to do that here. Just your statement is good enough.” I nodded and Walter pressed record, starting the interview.

The whole process took about 2 hours. Going over everything, carefully recalling each detail. Of course he had to ask questions. “If there were others in the house why didn’t you call for help?” It was like my brain was paralyzed. I was just going through muscle memory, going through the motions. I couldn’t do anything. “Why did it take you so long to report your assault?” At first I wasn’t sure it was assault. I didn’t want to believe that he would do that to me. But the more I replayed it in my head and when I finally told someone what happened. I came to terms with it. But by that point I was scared. I had nothing. It wouldn’t matter. I convinced myself it wouldn’t matter.

I thought it would be hard to write it all down. To see it all on paper. But even when he asked me to read through it and confirm that it was all true, it didn’t hurt like I expected. Maybe doing this, finally giving myself a sense of justice was the peace that I needed. Maybe, I just needed to speak it outloud to someone who could really listen. So I wasn’t the only one carrying it. Or maybe it was him. Maybe it was how soft his voice was. The way he was looking at me. What he had said in the truck. Was this what it felt like to actually trust someone? But he was a police officer. He was just doing his job. I had heard of this before. Women falling in love with their therapists, or the firemen who pulled them out of a burning building. Whatever I believed was here couldn’t be real.

I avoided his eyes as I put the pen down. I had signed the statement making it all official. He reached across the table taking the paper and tucking it away into my casefile.

“I’ll get this scanned and submitted to the courts right away, unfortunately this is the part where we hurry up and wait.” I nodded.

“So, what do I do now?” I was exhausted, my voice was weak and tired. Walter sighed and rested his hand on my shoulder.

“Now, I’m going to take you home, and try to get some rest, and leave the hard part to me, as soon as I know anything I’ll contact you.” He said. I nodded. Out of all the things I had to do today. This was the part I dreaded most. Being alone again. But it was inevitable.

When we arrived at my building Detective Marshall offered to walk me inside. But I just shook my head and gave him a weak smile. I didn’t want to bother him any longer. I had to learn how to survive again. Hopefully this will all be over soon.

WALTERS POV

I waited until I watched her walk into the building. If I’m honest, I sat in that parking lot for another 20 minutes, watching the door and checking the perimeter of the building. I promised I’d keep her safe. I intended to keep that promise.

When I finally headed back to the station I checked I.T. to make sure her paperwork had been faxed to the prosecutor. I hate this part. I’ve worked cases where people try to take the law into their own hands. And while I still continue to follow through with direct orders and let the system put people to justice. I could see why others take matters into their own hands. I sat in my office, loading her file on my computer. Reading through it all. I see this everyday. I track down killers, rapists, abusers, every single day. But she’s stuck in my head. The knock on my door takes my focus from the screen. I lifted my eyes to see who was at my office. Rachel.

“Hi,” she spoke softly. She had that sympathetic smile on her face like she was reading my mind before I even spoke.

“Did you need something?” I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow.

“I just wanted to check in with you, and see how everything went with the girl that came in to report last night?” she asked, her eyes big and hopeful. Rachel is an incredibly kind person. But she is also incredibly curious and stubborn.

“Just finished up this morning.” I said blankly. Hoping she would take it and leave. I know better.

“You got her to talk to you, good. I was worried about her. I noticed, uhm that, she came in with you today,” she raised an eyebrow accusingly. I let out a sigh running a hand over my beard. I locked eyes with her. I’d already beat myself up for taking this girl home with me last night. I’d gone against the code of conduct to help her feel safe. What did she want me to say?

“You seem to know everything already, why don’t you tell me what’s going on then. Since you’ve got me all figured out here.” I nodded to her, pursing my lips into a tight scowl. I didn’t need her psychoanalysis to tell me I’d fucked up. I knew that.

Her arms were crossed now as she leaned against the door frame looking me over carefully.

“Did you drive her home last night?” I let out a sharp laugh.

“It was freezing outside, she walked here. Yes. I took her home.” I replied. Not fully a lie. We did stop there. “Are you done?” I asked her “I have a lot to get done today and I’m waiting to hear from the prosecutor,”

“Walter,” She sighed, stepping into my office and sitting in front of me. The same place Alayna had sat last night. “Did she go home with you? It’s typical for victims to make…” she paused trying to find the right word. “Advances, toward men they see as protectors.” My brow creased my eyes zeroing in on her as I stopped her.

“You think I had sex with her?” I snap “That girl is afraid of her own shadow, you saw her. How long had you been talking to her? Trying to get her to open up before I came in? Yes, I finally got her to talk. And she was extremely shaken up. I took her home, but she looked so scared. Afraid to be alone. I don’t know why I did it. I could’ve … I should have sent her into her building and called an officer to sit and keep watch for the night.”

“But you didn’t, you let her go back to your house. Why?” She pressed. I groaned, frustrated.

“I don’t know,” I sighed.

“Nothing happened?” She asked.

“I didn’t sleep with her,” I growled. Her eyes went wide and she held up her hands in defense.

“Okay, just be more careful, something like this could have the head of the department on your ass and I can’t cover for you,” she said. I rolled my eyes, looking back at the screen.

“I didn’t ask you to,” I mumbled. She sighed and her shoulders slump, defeated. She stood to exit the office. Before she was completely out of ear shot she added.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” When I knew she was gone I leaned back in my chair letting my head fall back and let out a frustrated groan. Of all people she should understand I was just trying to help this girl.

I’m distracted by my office phone ringing. I picked it up immediately.

“SVU this is Captain Marshall,” I answered

“Marshall, this is Casey Novack, I just reviewed your case.” I gripped the phone tighter.

“And?” I encouraged her.

“You have no evidence here, what do you want me to do?” she explained.

“Let me arrest this guy, there’s enough detail in the statement to pull a confession, Casey. This victim’s been holding on to this for 2 year’s,” I argued.

“If I do that and he doesn’t confess this judge will have my ass Walt you know that, If this girl would’ve confessed sooner…”

“Casey, this isn’t a gamble. This happened. He’s guilty. I will get you that confession.” I barked, interrupting her.

“Legally?” I couldn’t see her face but I knew she had an eyebrow raised. “You’re a good cop Marshall, I’ll give you that. I don’t know what’s changed in you, I’ve never seen you fight so hard for the victim. It’s always about brute force with you. …Pick him up. Don’t make me regret this.” She said.

“You won’t,” I assured her.

It took me less than 2 hours to track him down. He wasn’t home. He wasn’t at work. Ironically, he was back in their hometown, with an old college buddy. Before I walked into the bar I stopped to call her. I told her I’d let her know when anything happened.

“Hello?” Her voice came through the phone soft and sleepy. I must’ve woken her up.

“Alayna, This is Detective Marshall.” I heard something shift in the background and her voice was more clear when she spoke.

“Detective, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” she said, I smiled softly.

“Yeah, well, the prosecutor is an old friend. I’m arresting him. He’ll be in custody soon. I thought you’d like to know.”

“Thank you,” Her voice was weak but I understood the sentiment. “I appreciate you calling. I guess. I’ll see you when I’m needed.” She added.

“You did an amazing job today, leave the rest up to me,” I soothed. I heard her sigh softly.

“Goodbye walter.” I could tell she was smiling.

“Goodbye Alayna.” I hung up the phone and walked into the bar. This piece of shit had no idea what was coming. His friend saw me first. He offered me a shot. When I turned him down, that's when he turned. I knew it was him. I recognized the pictures we’d found online for reference. But apart from that. She had described him so vividly. I would be able to recognize him anywhere. “Justin Veach?” I asked blankly, clearly unimpressed by their little charade.

“Yup,” He replied. “Since ‘89! How can I help you?” He asked smuggly, I didn’t give him a response. I pulled the cuffs from my belt.

“You’re under arrest for the rape and assault of Alayna Doyle.” I dragged him up by his arm slapping the cuff on one wrist. “You have the right to an attorney. Anything you say or do can be held against you in a court of law.” I continued reading him his rights as his friend followed us out of the building shouting not to say anything. And informing me that he went to law school. The officer that had followed me led Justin to the back of his car. His friend continued to shout but I ignored him. I nodded to the other officer, getting back in my truck and leading him back to the station. Now it was time for the fun part. Keeping my promise to Alayna. And to Casey. I had to get his confession. It was the only way to convince a judge to take the case. And now that he’s been accused. It was the only way I could assure Alayna I could protect her. Everything’s riding on this. Casey told me I was a good cop. I’d like to think that. But men like him… Will never get to see that side of me. It’s showtime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all for your support on this! I intend for part 3 to have a much quicker update! Thanks for you patience and love y’all ❤️🥰

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[batmanisagatewaydrug]

You seem like a really reasonable person and something I want to propose (though the thought is probably not new at all): Gaylors seem like they weaponize Swift's victimized position as a woman in music industry only when they need it to play in their favor. The moment this woman that they and the rest of their weird fandom seem to appreciate for being outspoken and powerful does something that does not fit into their rhetoric, she is immediately devoid of voice. Everything she says is a "clue", every direct "I am straight and how sexualized my life is bothers me" is a "code" for something; it's straight up scary.

There's a woman sitting in front of them talking about her life experience, and they just giggle and go "ok ok now say the truth". Like. Isn't it insane.

I hope this ask doesn't get touched by terfs or some similar crap since I'm talking about how misogynistic Gaylors are, but my idea is that they give their "favorite creator" zero agency. She can't decide her own sexuality, she can't have a voice, she can't live a life without being scrutinized for "queerbaiting" the most misguided and mistaken part of her audience.

This is just ironic because I expected TS fans to be more respectful towards the words of their idol since such a large motto of the entire fandom clique is "look at how empowered she is". Yeah. But her fans get to dismiss her every word because they can't handle being into a straight white woman's music.

Anyways, stay safe and sorry for the rant.

many people would disagree with your assessment of me as reasonable, but I do agree with pretty much all of what you've said here. whether or not Taylor is read as a victim tends to vary depending on what's most convenient to maintaining the Gaylor conspiracy at any given time. for years it's been popular to imagine her as a victim of some nebulous force with control over her career pressuring her to stay closeted while dating a variety of men she doesn't really like to serve as beards. but when she offers opposition, even mildly and indirectly, then she receives accusations of herself being a vindictive bully who's deliberately betraying Gaylors by refusing to come out.

it all makes a lot more sense if you understand that the Gaylor portion of the fandom don't actually like "Taylor Swift," the person or even the public persona; they like the version of Taylor Swift that exists in their brains who's a kind of closeted lesbian Riddler with nothing better to do than spend a decade assembling a Da Vinci Code-style trail of clues for them to follow.

[trashyswitch]

When Cats Kill The Fear

Panic attacks can be terrifying...Luigi knows that all too well. So when Luigi is saved from falling, he's left confused as to who's holding him. Who is this person in yellow? Why are their sleeves all fluffy? And...are those cat claws?!

Small trigger warning for descriptions of panic attacks. Read at your own risk. This fanfic was suggested by @justalilgiddybibs, and indirectly suggested by @jessadamsdraws. I hope you enjoy!

I’m a failure…I’m just a shadow…I’ll never be as good as him…No one cares about me like they care about him…No one even wants to know me…Everyone treats me like a baby, and I’m sick of it! I’m not a nobody! I’m NOT A NOBODY! I EXIST TOO! MARIO IS NOT THE ONLY BROTHER! PLEASE NOTICE ME! 

Oh god…Everything’s going blurry…I can’t focus on anything in the room…So many colors, it’s overwhelming…There’s heavy weight on my chest…It hurts to breathe. It feels like an elephant is laying on my chest…I need to breathe heavier to make up for it. 

But it isn’t working…I feel light-headed from breathing so hard…It’s making everything worse. Why does my hand hurt-? Oh…I’m scratching it raw…that makes sense. 

Help…I feel my knees giving out…I’m gonna fall! NO! The hard ground is gonna hurt! 

Hard ground…it’s coming…

…It should be coming…right? 

G…Ground…? 

N…No hard ground? Why can’t I feel the ground? 

Wait…I feel…arms? Whose arms? What color are they? 

They’re yellow…Why are they yellow? I don’t know a person who wears yellow. Who is this? 

“Shh-shh-shhhh…”

I widen my eyes. Mario? Is that you?! Why are you wearing yellow? I never see you wearing yellow! 

“It’s okay, I’m right here.” 

Mario is here…I’m not alone. Mario cares. He has always cared about me…

I wrap my arms around Mario and let out a shaky breath of relief. Mario had saved me from falling and hitting my head. I’m safe in his arms.  

I feel Mario hugging me back. His yellow clothes are very comfy. I feel my eyesight getting better. I’m able to see more than just the random colors. I look down at Mario's back, and widen my eyes when I see it…

A waving cat tail…? 

Wait…Why does Mario have a tail?! 

“M-Mario?...” I call. 

“Yes, Lu?” He replied. 

I reach my arm out and touch the yellow tail attached to my brother. “Am…Am I losing it?” I ask him. 

“No. What’s going on?” He asked. 

“Then-” I took off my glove and felt it. It was real! “Why on earth, do you have a cat tail?!” I finally asked. 

Mario let go of me to reveal his costume and wagged the cat tail. He was wearing a yellow onesie with a hood with cat ears. “I’m a cat.” He explained. 

I didn’t know whether to burst out laughing, or coo with cuteness overload. “I-” I lifted my hat up and scratched my head. “Why are you wearing a fur suit?!” I asked. 

Mario giggled. “It’s a powerup.” Mario admitted to me. “It’s the powerup I used to beat Donkey Kong.” He admitted. 

“You beat a gorilla…by dressing as a cat…” I clarified, not at all believing him. 

“I did! I skittered all around him-” He reenacted it in front of me. “And I scratched him on the face a few times! This powerup is sweet.” Mario told me. 

I think for a moment. “If you’re dressed like a cat…and you have claws like a cat…” I smirked. “Does that mean you act like a cat too?” I asked next. 

Mario rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve only used it once, Lu.” Mario admitted. 

I smile as I wipe the leftover tears from my own eyes. “Can…Can I try?” I ask. 

Mario shrugged his shoulders. “Sure! Whatever helps you feel better.” He told me. 

I scooted myself closer to him and looked at his back. I brought up my hand to pet his back, but…I retreated it with an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry, this is really weird…” I admitted.

Mario chuckled. “Yeah, I imagine.” 

I reached out my hand closer to his back…but I made the mistake of looking at Mario’s face. Something about seeing Mario’s face surrounded by the yellow fur of a cat, made it look like he was being eaten alive by the cat suit. 

I dropped my hand down as laughter bursted out of me. “Ihit’s so hard to take you seriously when all I see is your face!” I admitted. 

Mario wheezed and hung his head as well, bursting out in his own laughter. “Ihihis ihit really that hard?!” He asked. 

I attempted to pull myself together. But…One little look at the suit…And I had thrown myself onto the floor, busting out in even more laughter. “Sohohorry! Gohod-” I reacted, my voice squeaking slightly. 

I rubbed my eye as I let myself laugh. The entire cat suit powerup thing was way too hard for me to properly process. All I kept thinking was ‘De yellow cat go mew’ and ‘Cat bro so kawaii’. It was next to impossible to take him seriously. 

Though, I had to admit…It felt amazing to just laugh till my stomach hurt. It felt so relieving after my panic attack. Mario’s cat costu- powerup, had already helped cheer me up. Even then, this was only the beginning. There was so much I could do to explore. 

I finally sat up and wiped a few tears out of my eyes. I was still giggling…but thankfully, I was calming down at least a little bit. It took me a second to realize Mario was holding up something in his hand. It looked like an old-fashioned bell you’d put on a cow. Or a bell you’d have at the end of a cat toy. But the only difference was…it had beady black eyes. 

“Whahat-” I blinked a few times and looked at Mario. 

“Take it.” Mario told me. 

“What is it?” I asked. 

“It’s the cat powerup.” Mario told me. 

“Oh…” I responded. I bit my lip and slowly brought my finger out to poke it. When I felt my finger touch it, I felt a surge of power overcome my body. It was so quick and so overwhelming, I didn’t know what to do with myself. But I gasped as the power calmed down. 

“Meow!” I heard. 

Wait…that was my- I widened my eyes and covered my mouth. Did I just do that?! Did I just meow?! Oh NO! That’s so embarrassing! 

I looked up at Mario, likely visibly embarrassed. But Mario smiled at me. “Meow!” He replied back to me. 

For some strange reason…his meow made me feel a little bit better about it. I instinctively uncovered my mouth and let out a guffaw. “I couldn’t control that! That was instinctual, I swear!” I reacted. 

Mario laughed. “I know, right?! It leaves your mouth before you can comprehend it!” He admitted. 

“It really does!” I agreed, still surprised. 

Mario stretched out his front paws, in almost a ready position. “You in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned cat fight?” Mario asked me. 

I smirked and got myself ready in virtually the same position. “You betcha~” I replied excitedly. 

The last thing I processed was Mario’s smirk towards me. And then the cat fight had begun. Mario tackled me to the ground while I rolled myself over and bapped Mario in the chest to get him off. Mario ran a good two feet away, and reached his right paw out to bap me. “Dooon’t you do it.” Mario warned. 

I smirked and slowly walked myself closer to him. “Oooh, I just might~” I teased. 

Mario smirked and raised his paw higher. “I’m warning you!” 

I swished my tail with excitement, before tackling Mario to the ground. “Warn me better next time!” I declared happily. 

Mario let out a cat-like cry, before kicking me with his back paws. “NO!” He shouted, bringing his head closer and showing his teeth. 

I smirked and rubbed my face and ears into Mario’s belly. 

I heard Mario wheeze and felt him bap my head in an attempt to get my head away. “WAHAITNAhahahaha! Luhu- nahahaha!” Mario laughed. 

“Looks like the kitty cat’s still ticklish~” I teased, gently fluttering the claws against his belly for good measure. 

Mario actually squealed, and rolled himself over to try and cover himself up. But little known fact about Mario: His back sides were ALSO very ticklish! And being his twin brother, I knew that fact all too well. 

So naturally, like any other brother would, I took advantage of the exposed area. 

“MAMA WAHAHAHAA!” Mario shrieked like a little girl, and wiggled around like a turtle stuck on its back!

I bursted out laughing. “Did you seriously forget about this spot?” I asked. 

“HAHAHAHAHA- YEHEHEHESSS!” Mario shouted. 

I couldn’t help but laugh at his struggle. “You really didn’t think any of this through, did you?” I asked with a giggle. 

Mario shook his head amidst his laughter. “NOHOHOHO.” He replied. 

I suddenly yelped as Mario pushed me off with his foot and flipped himself over. “Noho mohohore…Plehehease…” He muttered. 

I chuckled and scratched the back of my head. “Right…I forgot…you never could handle much tickling…” I admitted. 

I watched as Mario shook his head and huffed. “Gosh…I know you like to play, but…” He wiped off his sides. “Be careful.” He cleared his throat. “You know how anxious I get…” 

I widened my eyes in worry. Anxious? Did-Did I make Mario anxious?! 

No…Oh god…I messed up! I shouldn’t have tickled him!  

I wrap my clawed hands around myself and bring my knees up to my chest. How could I have made such a preventable mistake?! The playful tickling is too much for him to handle! Luigi, you know that! You know he can’t handle it! 

You’ve known since we were children! 

But-...But it was a spur of the moment thing…Mario started being playful with you first…

NO. Luigi, you need to stop doing what your heart wants to do! Think with your head! 

If you don’t…then you’ll throw him into an anxiety attack as well!

Experiencing an anxiety attack because of your own thoughts is one thing…

But putting someone else into an anxiety attack because of your thoughts too?! That’s unacceptable! Inexcusable! Selfish, even! 

Oh no…Luigi, you’re doing it again. Stop thinking these thoughts. You don’t want to go back to square one, right? 

Don’t be so stupid! You know better!

Come on, Luigi…Pull yourself together! Come on! Breathe! For the love of god-

…?

…H-Huh?

…..What-...

I feel…W-Warm…It’s…fl-fluffy? What is- 

“Shhh shhh shhh…It’s okay…” 

Mario…Mario’s voice…It’s soft…quiet…

I feel warm…cozy…What’s making me feel so comfy? 

I look down, and see a red blanket. Red…Mario’s favorite color…It’s his blanket…He’s letting me use it…It smells like him too…

Hm? I feel something hugging me…Hands? Arms? Who’s holding me? It feels…nice. 

I look up to see Mario’s red shirt. “It’s okay, Lu. It’s okay…I got you.” 

I smile. Mario’s here. It’ll be okay. It’s okay, Luigi...You’re okay. 

“There you go…” I hear him say. 

My heart isn’t beating as heavily…My breathing has slowed…I feel…a little more calm…more safe…

“You okay, Lu?” I hear. 

I bite my lip and look up at Mario as best I can. “Did I make you anxious?” I ask him. 

Mario shook his head. “No. You didn’t.” He replied. 

I frown. “I almost did…” I told him. 

“What do you mean?” I hear him ask. 

“I could’ve…” I shove my face into the red blanket. 

I hear Mario sigh and pull me closer. “You didn’t make me anxious…If anything, your tickles kind of surprised me a little bit.” I heard him say. 

I open my eyes a small bit. “They…didn’t make you anxious?” I asked, still fearful of what I might’ve done to him. 

“Not even a little bit.” Mario said back. 

Wait…I don’t understand. “Y-You said-” 

“Luigi…” I feel him rub my back. “There’s a huge difference between being surprised, and being anxious.” He told me. “I think I may have used the word ‘anxious’ in the wrong context…” He admitted. “But…I want to tell you…” I felt as Mario let me go slightly and fixed the blanket on my shoulders. “You did not make me anxious.” 

Every little brick that was balancing on my shoulders, had slowly fell off my shoulders. It felt like I could properly breathe again. The warmth and comfort Mario was giving me…was helping me exponentially. 

“You feeling better, Lu?” Mario asked me. 

I smiled and nodded my head. “Y-Yeah…” I admitted softly. 

*knock, knock, knock* 

“Mario? Luigi? Are you in there?” Someone called. 

Mario widened his eyes. “Peach!” He reacted. 

PEACH?! 

“SHOOT!” I pushed myself out of Mario’s grip and threw the blanket off myself. I fixed my hair and threw my hat onto my head quickly. “Come on, Mario.” I grabbed Mario’s hand. 

“Luigi hold oOOAAH!” Mario shrieked as I pulled him up onto his feet. “Geez…Okay.” 

I heard him rub his overalls free of any dirt while I ran up to open the door. “Hello Princess!” I greeted. 

Peach crossed her arms. “Took you long enough…” She teased. “What were you two up to?” She asked. 

I bit my lip, and struggled to come up with an excuse. I didn’t really want Peach to find out we were cuddling…

“I was about to give Luigi the biggest revenge attack ever.” Mario declared right beside me. I lit up. “Y-Yeah! That!” I said…only for me to realize what I just said ‘yes’ to. 

“What kind of revenge?” Peach asked me. 

I could feel the sweat dripping down my forehead. “U-Uh…” I hesitantly tried to protest. 

“The ticklish kind~” He teased me with the biggest grin on his face. I squeaked as my eyes fell upon Mario’s wiggling, villainous fingers. 

They were torturous to watch…Just wiggling…ready to pounce and cover me in overwhelming ecstasy. 

Before I could properly process my inevitable doom, I felt Mario’s hands grab my wrists while the smaller, gloved fingers of the Princess began to skitter and squeeze my sides and belly. If I knew THIS was gonna happen, I would’ve waited an extra 5 minutes before getting off Mario. 

But…alas…I was wrong…

And so I must pay the price with my laughter…

[raina-at]

Mouse

In celebration of this fandom and how much fun I'm having right now, with the May prompts and the fic club, have a bonus ficlet set in my theatre universe . (Another one of my AUs ticked off the list) (short premise for those not familiar: John is a stage manager and Sherlock is an actor. Mary, Molly and Sally are all part of John's crew.)

This is especially for @totallysilvergirl and the members of the Johnlock fic club. You all know why.

Warning, mention of an accidental animal death.

Also, this is loosely based on a true story.

-------

“What on Earth are you doing?”

“Be quiet,” Molly shushes Sherlock as she drags him through the stage door into the green room area.

“Oh thank god.” John sighs in relief as he sees Sherlock enter the room. “Save me from this madness.”

“Sit back down, Watson, this is all your fault after all!” Mary snaps. She’s pregnant again and the glare she gives him is filled with the homicidal rage of the permanently uncomfortable.

John sits back down and sighs. “Okay, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Molly pushes Sherlock into a chair. “You be quiet now, we’ll be done in five minutes.”

Molly sits on Mary’s other side on the floor and takes Sally’s hand, completing the circle.

Mary gestures to Molly. “Do you have the object?”

Molly produces the live mousetrap and puts it in the middle of the pentagram Mary has drawn on the floor. 

“I hate to repeat myself, but what the actual fuck are you doing?” Sherlock asks, watching them with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. 

They all turn their heads in surprise, because they all know how rarely Sherlock swears. 

“We’re doing an exorcism,” Molly explains. “John killed a mouse and now we’re haunted.”

“I didn’t, I repeat, DID NOT kill a mouse!” John very nearly yells, sick and tired of this argument. 

“You left the live trap open over a bank holiday weekend,” Mary growls. “The bloody mouse sprung it, died of thirst in it, and ever since we’ve had one accident after another. First my fucking brand new moving head blew on its second night, then Molly twisted her ankle, and yesterday you were nearly hit by a stage wall.”

“So did I understand this correctly? You, rational, adult, competent professionals, had a few easily explained accidents and then came to the inevitable conclusion that you’re being haunted by the angry spirit of a common house mouse?” Sherlock asks, steepling his hands under his chin. 

“Duh,” Molly mutters, rolling her eyes. 

“Anything to say, genius?” Mary asks, glaring at Sherlock in a way that makes John hope that Sherlock will consider the words that come out of his mouth next very, very carefully.

“You need sage,” Sherlock says after a moment of silent contemplation. “And candles.”

“You’re not fucking serious!” John stares at Sherlock as if he’s grown a second head, which would frankly have surprised John just a tiny bit more than the current development. “You’re superstitious? Since when?”

“All actors are superstitious,” Sherlock says, ducking into the tiny theatre kitchen. “It’s the better safe than sorry principle.” He comes back with mixed herb salt and some tealights. “This should do nicely. Budge over.” 

He sits between Sally and Molly and takes their hands.

“This must be what going mad feels like,” John mutters, but he takes Mary’s and Sally’s hands and completes the circle.

Mary shushes him and lights the candles. Then she shakes a bit of the salt over the live trap. She turns to John and gestures to the trap. “Now apologise.”

“But I—”

“I said,” Mary says with a smile sharper than a battleax. “Apologise.”

John clears his throat. “Um.” The thing is, he is sorry. He never meant to cause an animal’s death, even indirectly. They only ever use live traps for a reason. But he feels slightly ridiculous all the same. 

He knows this is necessary, though. Theatres are places where legends and superstitions and rituals live for generations. Case in point, no theatre person in their right mind would ever refer to the Scottish play by its actual name. Case in point, you never say good luck backstage. This is no different, he knows this.

Of course the knowledge doesn’t stop him from feeling completely ridiculous as he says, “I’m sorry, mouse spirit. I didn’t mean for you to die. Please forgive us and stop haunting our theatre. We’re really sorry.”

He puts a piece of cheese into the trap, and every member of his crew follows suit. Sherlock contributes another sprinkle of the herbal salt, and then Mary, in lieu of setting the trap on fire, which would trigger the smoke alarm, bashes it in with a cricket bat. It’s horribly loud, but the trap is unusable afterwards.

“Be at peace, little mouse,” Molly whispers, and John can see the tears in her eyes.

They all share a long look over the mouse trap, and then they burst out laughing.

“You’re all insane,” Sherlock says, but he’s laughing as well, and there’s a lot of affection in his voice.

“Yup,” John answers, still giggling a bit. This is my crew, he thinks. Dangerously foul-tempered, certifiably insane, scarily silly at times. And I couldn’t love them more for it. He looks at Sherlock, who’s watching him with sparkling eyes and so much unguarded affection, and he smiles. “And you fit right in.”

----

Tags under the cut as usual.

@calaisreno @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @catlock-holmes @peanitbear @meetinginsamarra @friday411 @inevitably-johnlocked

[armpirate]

The Only One || JJK || Ch. 23

Pairings: mafia!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, mafia, contract relationship

Warnings: Prostitution, torture, blood, use of drugs and weapons

Summary: You've always wished for a better life. Every single day at work, you were hoping something would change. Although you didn't think that change would come in the form of one mysterious man and a contract.

His controlling and selfish behaviour only wanted to keep you away from any other man that wasn't him, and you only had to wait for him.

Too bad you really thought you'd be smarter than Jeon Jungkook.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Jungkook moved his thumb over the titanium ball of his eyebrow piercing, focusing too much on the slippery touch of the piece of jewelry while his mind was busy with just one thing: Y/n. It had been weeks since she left, and he still wasn't able to understand how all of it happened in front of him. As much as he tried to find an explanation to it, it just made no sense. Even if it could've happened right up in his nose, he wasn't able to tell how she could get all the information. She didn't know Korean to understand anything that could be of use, and she was too busy trying to get her ass in problems to worry about his issues.

He found the phone, he found the texts, but there was something off about all of it. Sanhyuk clearly didn't want her as a scoop -he was convinced there was someone else, and that was why Jihu was still under supervision in one of the safe houses that he had spread all over Korea.

Either way, soon the word was spread all over his family. The seven members of the Bangtan family agreed on keeping that deal with Sanhyuk as a secret so it wouldn't get any bigger, and also congratulated Jungkook after taking a good decision. He knew that if he hadn't done what Sanhyuk wanted, the other six bosses would've jumped at his throat and also forced him to leave his position -the same position his dear father left him.

Although he couldn't disagree more about the decision...

—Don —he rolled his eyes when he heard Siu's voice breaking the silence.

—I told you not to call me like that.

—Sorry —the young man apologized, taking a hesitating step towards his desk—. Jihu said he wants to talk.

That sentence got Jungkook moving his eyes from the gray wall to the gangster, confused at the sudden change of opinion from the person who used to be his man of trust. But it wasn't like he was able to think straight, when his brain was focused on getting answers finally.

Soon he stood up from his chair and was ordering his driver to get him to the same place he locked Jihu in, and that everyone in his crew knew of -because he made sure they'd take turns to look after him, and also create awareness indirectly by seeing what could happen to them if they ever thought about betraying him. Not like it really worried him. In general, he was well-respected, most of the people working for him would look down whenever he passed by, and would take a bullet for him any time. But it was better to make sure something like that wouldn't happen again.

He stepped inside the room, seeing a beaten Jihu kneeling on the floor, with both of his arms on each side of his body. He barely could recognize him, his swollen face -by the several hits- were covered in blood, that was rolling down the -already- dry stains.

—Hope you have something interesting to say —Jungkook mentioned, lazily letting his head fall slightly to the back.

—I really don't know what he wants from Y/n —he assured him.

Jungkook breathed deeply, slightly closing his eyes before he was completely focused on the man kneeling in front of him.

—You took her to him —after reminding him that, he squatted in front of Jihu—, didn't you? —the old man just looked down— I'm sure you also kept him updated on everything related to Y/n, so tell me —grabbing him by the hair, nails almost digging on his scalp, to force his barely open eyes to stare into his own—: you did all of that without a fucking explanation? Do you really think I will buy that you acted blindly? —his tattooed hand pulled from his hair, gaining a complaint from the man.

—Sometimes you just need to act blindly —he muttered—. You've kept coming here time and time again, every day, and you always get the same answer. I don't really know what he wants to do with her.

—And I'll keep doing it until you speak —Jungkook sighed—. Look, I don't really care about how much he paid you —he stood up, cleaning the sweat and grease on his black slacks—, but I want to know what the fuck he's planning.

He dug his hand in the right pocket, moving his fingers over his phone to reach the cigarettes. Somehow, the mere action of placing the cigarette in front of his parted and broken lips was enough for Jihu to accept the invitation, lighting it up as soon as the orange part was trapped in his mouth. The tip lighted slightly when he breathed in, later letting all the thick smocking spill from his nostrils.

—You know me more than anyone, and you know that if you're good to me, I'll be good to you —Jungkook assured him.

But that comment only made Jihu scoff, as if he weren't the one in a disadvantaged position.

—You're just a kid, playing to be his father —he ironically mentioned, barely understandable, because he still tried to keep the cigarette in between his lips.

—Could be —Jungkook nodded—. I'm still smarter than you. At least enough to know when to keep my mouth shut.

Right after saying that, he took the cigarette and turned it off, rubbing the burning tip against Jihu's forehead, making him whine and scream in pain at the first contact.

—Y/n is the only reason you're still alive —he mentioned, throwing the cigarette away—. If you aren't going to be useful, I won't hesitate to kill you right now.

It was the first time, after all of his visits, that Jungkook was threatening him with death. After many times going there, trying to get to a solution that would work both for Y/n and his family, his patience was up, and so was Jihu's chance to drag that moment forever. It was as if the mention of those words actually scared Jihu, because the way he looked at him from the ground completely changed.

✸ ✸ ✸

Y/n cornered herself, sitting as far away from the door as possible when she heard the steps getting close to it. The sudden lightning made her close her eyes instantly at the momentary pain, after forcing her eyes to such a sudden change. It took her too long to get used to it, because when she opened them again, it was too late. The same man who always took her her lunch, was grabbing her by the arm and pulling her whole body up so she could walk along with him without giving any problems.

A big impulse to get away from his grip was suddenly forgotten, when she saw the red finger marks around her wrists.

Whatever she did, Sanhyuk had a punishment for it. He said he wouldn't tolerate her looking at him wrongly, and he meant it. Every time she wasn't able to control her own eyes, she'd be reminded. Every time her tongue slipped one of her comments, a reaction would come right after. She ended up being aware of every muscle of her own body, and learnt to hide her own thoughts so she wouldn't feel tempted to say them out loud.

She was dragged through the house, stopping in front of a white door -that was opened by a tall and slim woman that looked down at her. And considering the poor conditions she was in, she understood.

She forgot the last time she showered -although she was sure that it wasn't in that place, not even once-, just like she forgot most of the taste of food -because she wasn't given anything else other than rice. And through her mind crossed the idea that she was being treated like a dog, but she was sure that most dogs were treated nicely than her.

The man pushed her body inside the wide bathroom, with the woman dodging her body before closing the door behind her.

—Shower —was the only word she heard from her.

Y/n wanted to refuse, she didn't want to shower while being watched. But she knew the consequences to her words, she knew what would happen the second she pronounced the "N" only. Actually, the darkness she was surrounded by was one of her punishments, because the previous day she refused eating -thinking that it'd force Sanhyuk's men to bring him to her.

Breathing deeply, she started taking her stinky clothes off. It was the first time she was disgusted by her own smell and her own body, moving her arms the least before stepping into the shower.

Despite the pressure, it was the first time in a long while her whole body felt relaxed, even lighter, under the warm water, throwing her head back while closing her eyes -as she tried to get as much of it as possible. Although, not too long after, she heard the female voice hurrying her to finish.

Only covered with a white towel, she was pushed to the chair in front of the wide mirror, where she could only see the form of her figure because of the steam. She didn't know what was going on, she just let the woman do whatever she wanted to her, seeing her through the corner of her eyes every single time she put her hands on her. She pulled her hair while brushing it and drying it, put some makeup on her face and threw all the tools she used over the sink.

It was weird. It felt weird to see her own reflection after so long, and it felt sad seeing all the marks and bruises she was indirectly protected from pointing out. She managed to get an idea of where the wounds were placed, by the way some spots in her face hurted, but she didn't think it would be that bad. And after getting the makeup done, the woman was only able to hide the biggest bruises, but the line of dry blood on her broken lip, just like the most recent -and darkest- bruise wasn't totally covered with the work she tried to do.

And it wasn't like she cared either.

When she got up from the chair, she saw a black plastic bag flying to her body -and she barely managed to catch it in the air-, followed by a pair of shoes that collapsed against the floor, before she was ordered to put them on.

New underwear, new clothes... There was something wrong going on. Although she didn't manage to see through it all until she was dragged outside the house for the first time, getting inside a gray car. Just like the day she got there, filled and surrounded by tall and thick men that wouldn't hesitate to stop every attempt at running away.

Her eyes squinted when they entered an empty pub. And judging by how bright it was outside, it didn't surprise her, but it made her feel out of place, wearing that black velvet dress, tight to her body, at that time of the day.

She kept walking through all the place, suddenly seeing some faces that seemed familiar. She wasn't sure of when she had seen some of those people, but she was sure that it wasn't in Sanhyuk's place. Or maybe it was indeed there, but losing contact with any kind of person for two weeks tricked her mind.

Her heart stopped beating when she stepped inside an office, and she was able to recognize that wide back under a black blazer, she'd be able to point out that posture out of a lot of people. And judging by his reaction when he spotted her, as she walked past him and towards the desk -motioned by Sanhyuk-, she was sure Jungkook was as surprised as her to see her there.

—I thought you'd like to see her —he shrugged, wrapping an arm around her waist—. After all, you've spent some time together —looking up to her, and switching from Korean to English, he squeezed her side—. Don't be rude, say hi.

Gulping thick, and knowing how not doing it would end up, she muttered a greeting, looking down almost immediately.

She was ashamed of the state she was in -desperate to hide the bruises and cuts that the make up wasn't able to hide-, but she also was proud, trying to hide the help she was craving while avoiding making eye contact. But it wasn't like Jungkook needed her eyes to speak, her body language was enough and Sanhyuk's possessive and cocky expression was also speaking volumes. He still looked for more though, scrolling his eyes to her arm, down to the marks on her wrists and her elbows.

—I'm treating her like a queen. Better than you, actually —Sanhyuk mocked them both—. Just like she deserves.

Jungkook had to make his best to control himself, feeling his own fists tightening next to his thighs. He knew that, when Sanhyuk interrupted the talk about territories, he'd do something to get on his nerves. But he didn't think that he'd use Y/n for it. And he almost got away with what he wanted, especially when he spanked her ass in front of him before he told her to leave them alone again.

There was nothing new coming from that meeting. Sanhyuk was the one who called him in, yet he still paid no attention to what was being said, there was no interest on his side.

—This is fun —Sanhyuk chuckled—. Any other time, you wouldn't have come. But since I have something you want, you ran here. It's so fun when tables are turned.

—Not for long though —Jungkook assured, getting up from his seat.

—We'll see —he pointed to the door—. But for now, you're the one with the tail in between your thighs.

✸ ✸ ✸

After coming back from that short visit to the pub, she was escorted back to her room. Although there was light back in there.

—Boss said that you did well. This is your reward —the voice said on her back, before he closed the door and locked it.

Breaking down, she ripped the dress and threw the heels against the wall, falling down on her knees as she hid her face on the mattress.

The fact that she had to consider a glimpse of light a reward was the only thing left she needed that day to fully lose herself, losing count of the time she spent in that position and in that state. At least until she heard voices again.

She rushed to the closet, trying to find a t-shirt, to at least cover the only naked part of her body before the door was opened. And while she expected the same man that would always bring her her lunch, she rushed to grab the shoe she threw to the wall when she saw Jungkook being pushed inside the room, before the door was closed right after.

Fast, he dodged the stiletto, but right after she was the one all over him, hitting his body annoyed, unable to understand what he was doing there. The volume of her complaints kept increasing, forcing Jungkook to cover her mouth with his hand, and holding her hand with the other, forcing her to stay still.

—I'm not supposed to be here. Shut up if you don't want either of us getting in trouble.

Days after sending her to Sanhyuk's place, he made sure to get a contact that would at least keep him updated on how she was doing. But looking at her in that moment, without all the makeup, he could tell that she was in a worse state than she was warned about. He was able to tell she looked slimmer when she got inside the office, but he had wished that was the only thing that was wrong with her. Up close, he was aware of the barely perceptible black eye, and the light bruises on her cheeks.

For a hot second, she felt grateful to see him there, and she'd have jumped right in his arms if she hadn't got back to her senses fast, getting rid of his hands and stepping back.

—What are you doing here?

—I just wanted to check on you.

Jungkook only wanted the contact temporarily, just in case there was a strange move from Sanhyuk's side. At least until he managed to find a way to get her back neatly. But he abused his power, and increased the money he'd pay after seeing her in his office. Clearly, his source wasn't as honest or aware of most of what was going on, because there was a lot of information that was being kept from him.

—I don't need anything from you —she hit his arm—. I'm not your problem anymore, so leave —she pushed him, although he barely moved—. Leave —she hit him again—. You had no issue sending me here, so leave just like that.

While her lip trembled with her words, Jungkook was able to see that thin line of blood on it. Unable to control himself, he cupped her face and rubbed his thumb under the wound, surprised by how accepting she was of his touch.

—I'm sorry —he whispered.

Y/n was taken aback by those two words, and the clear sign of regret in his eyes for the first time since they met. Both of them could feel his phone shaking in his pants constantly, but they still stayed like that.

—I'll take you out of here. I promise —Jungkook assured her again.

—Who says I want to go back with you, huh? —she pushed him again— Why would I trust you? It was so fucking easy for you...

—It wasn't —he stopped her—. You really made me have no choice. And the only reason I'm here right now is because I want you to be okay.

He was going to continue, but the constant vibration in his pocket made him sigh and finally reach for his phone. Face completely pale when he realized it was too late to get out of there like he was planning to.

—What? —Y/n asked.

—Sanhyuk is back.

If she needed a better explanation, Sanhyuk's voice from somewhere in his house confirmed what Jungkook was saying, making them look at each other nervously, as if that would give them an answer on what to do.

Taglist:@kaiparkerwifes @sheylamc @amy2006jones

[paunchbunny]

Fat chat becomes a lot more stressful when you become mutuals/friends with someone? Like, you're my buddy, we're pals, I don't want to annoy you or make you feel oversexualized. Yes this is the platform for being horny and stuff and yes I LOVE to tease you and make you flustered even just platonically. But like. Fuck what if I come off like a shithead. Am I just an anxious mess or is this a valid fear?

-a mutual

self awareness already helps a ton, and there's a time and a place for everything.

for me personally, any of my mutuals can dm me, shoot their shot, flirt, and the worst thing I can do is not reply (usually just bc my Tumblr has no notifications on)

if youre worried about making someone uncomfortable, just ask if it's a good or a bad time for that kinda chat. Ik it "ruins the moment" but it's so much better to be safe than sorry and it also indirectly tells the person u respect them.

[capitaletele]

I saw this post about the real story behind the concept of "Stockholm Syndrome" and it made me think about Cristal going through what Kristen Enmark did instead of the romanticized version Berger wrote about (which, you know, fair enough, it was based on the mainstream understanding of the idea at the time.)

Enmark is the young woman who was first "diagnosed" with Stockholm Syndrome after bonding with her kidnappers because she was more afraid of the police and authorities' incompetent/erratic behaviour than she was of her captors (and saying so publicly once she got out.) She was then "diagnosed" by the psychologist who consulted on the hostage situation and made a mess of it, without him ever actually interviewing her.

And so of course, I'm thinking about Cristal being actually kidnapped. She probably thinks Johnny is attractive but she doesn't run away with him, the Etoiles Noires grab her and forcibly take her to the hangar. And then the government (with the help of Zéro's private militia of course) basically besiege the tunnels trying to "get her out" -- only of course, it would look better for Zéro's campaign if something unfortunate happened to her at the hands of her evil captors, because that would definitely turn public opinion to him and his totalitarian security measures.

And so, "Cristal trapped inside the hangar with frightening terrorists" becomes "Cristall slowly bonding with the Etoiles Noires while the people who are supposed to be rescuing her directly/indirectly work to get her killed."

And Sadia's there in the middle, being ambiguous and inscrutable as always :p

I'm also thinking about the quote by hostage-taker Olsson, about why they developed a relationship with the hostages:

"It was the hostages’ fault. They did everything I told them to do. If they hadn’t, I might not be here now. Why didn’t any of them attack me? They made it hard to kill. [The authorities] made us go on living together day after day, like goats, in that filth. There was nothing to do but get to know each other."

So like, imagine a violent Johnny whose plan was definitely to take Cristal with him and kill her for whatever reason, and who resentfully realizes he can't anymore because he's gotten to know her and he actually likes her now (as opposed to just finding her hot.)

And when it becomes clear to him that the authorities aren't working to free her safely at all (in the real situation, Enmark actually got the Swedish Prime Minister on the phone and he basically told her "You're going to die for the cause, sorry") Johnny starts protecting her, not only from the other Etoiles Noires but also from the outside.

And Cristal is protecting Johnny and the Etoiles Noires in turn, because it has become very clear to her that contrary to what everyone is saying on tv, the point is not to get them alive at all, and that in fact it might be better for the authorities if there were no survivors to tell the tale of what actually went down.

So Cristal starts using her neutron camera to send pirate broadcasts to reveal the truth about her situation and how the Etoiles Noires are treating her.

And in the process, she also starts reporting on what's been going on in the underground levels, which doesn't usually make it into the media. I like to imagine have been sort of abandonned by the government, maybe because the police/army has been trying to get rid of the Etoiles Noires but the population of the underground has been protecting them/refusing to give them up, so the government started punishing them by cutting off services in the blocks where the EN operate. People lost access to running water, to electricity, to food supply... But the media and government have denied it, so when Cristal shows the truth, people are shocked.

And of course the mainstream media is running its own messaging, about how Cristal has lost the plot, how she's gone and fallen in love with Johnny like a stupid girl, how they brainwashed or drugged her into it, etc. [Cue "Les parents de Cristal."]

And so Cristal radicalizes and rallies to the Etoiles Noires, and she and Johnny figure out a plan to get everyone out safely, and then... I don't know what happens :p Some kind of "they're both alive" resolution, because I am me! But how??? Damned if I know.

[yennas-stuff]

An E/riel said that “Emerie and Rhys have a better chance at being friends than Gwyn and Rhys - he already flies her to and from Illyria” and while it is possible that Rhys and Emerie will become friends, I still believe that Rhys and Gwyn are going to become very good friends for many reasons, but that’s a whole different post.

And while we’re on the topic of Emerie, E/riel’s only bring her up when they want to put down/make Gwynriel’s, Gwyn stans, and Nesta stans look bad (I stated this in another ask). That we don’t care about her and we forget about her. Emerie week was announced not too long ago and the majority of them were dead quiet. “Emerie deserves better” they say and then it’s radio silent from them. It honestly feels performative. I have a lot to say about this actually.

The majority of Gwynriel’s/Valkyries fans have made so much fanart of Emerie (and Emorie), short fics, headcanons, little blurbs of how she inspired young girls in Illyria, theories of her getting green siphons or even getting Truth-Teller, and praise her for being brave and hardworking. I’ve even seen some say how it would be cool if Emerie got a little camp of her own for the woman who want to be a Valkyrie and it would be like a safe haven. And if E/riel’s have the Gwynriel, or Gwyn, or Nesta, or Valkyries tag blocked then that’s probably why they don’t see some of it. Even without those tags there is still lots of love for Emerie, so when I see them talk about how we don’t appreciate her or only care about Gwyn because we ship her with Azriel it makes no sense to me.

And also, a lot of E/riel’s bring down the Valkyries by calling the sleepover and them making friendship bracelets childish, how the three of them aren’t really friends because all they’ve done is hang out a few times and read books and had a sleepover (?), saying the Blood Rite was lackluster/stupid, “the power of friendship”, etc. So how exactly is bringing down those girls and their friendship being supportive of Emerie? (I think they only do this because they don’t like Nesta or Gwyn).

This topic really makes me heated and annoyed. Like I said it just feels performative from E/riel’s. @yazthebookish actually made a very good post talking about this a little bit ago, but I think it’s deleted now. (Apologies to Yaz if I made you uncomfortable with tagging you❣️)

🍒 anon

Helloo 🍒 anon,

sorry for responding late. There's a heatwave, and I'm just barely surviving it.

Every *feminist*, girls girl take from E/riels feels performative and fake. They always end up saying something indirectly misogynistic.

It is funny when they ridicule Valkyries but pretend to love Emerie. Do they know she's also a Valkyrie? And she loves Gwyn and Nesta. And she's a cool character with lots of potential. Especially considering the Illyrians plot.

Unfortunately, as it's a romance series, we are interested in speculating about romance. Hence, the ship wars. I don't particularly enjoy Mor, and that's why it's hard for me to think about the possibility of Emorie. I think Emerie deserves better, but at the same time, I need at least one wlw ship. (Pls sjm, give us something sapphic.) So when there is not much to fight or speculate about... there are just fewer discussion points. We still show appreciation for the character, tho.

I think we would all as a fandom have more energy to discuss Emerie more if we didn't have to debunk more and more unhinged E/riel theories and block trolls every day.

[sparklinpixiedust]

The heck with that fox news lady acting like having a separate gate for women and men at the qatar airport is sexism?????

Lol okay. Pls explain how is it sexist? And to who exactly? Men and women have different entrances, if there's a physical search then women would do for women and men would do for men.

Wth is the problem here?

If there's a woman only gate then that means there's a mens only gate too. So like is this not equality?

Like if this " special " gate means only women can get through and only women , then the " normal " gate is all men.

So it's not really special it's just a little separation. You both get the same treatment, bags go through the same security check and you leave the same place. Its just when there's going to be physical touch involved you'd have your respective genders doing it. So what's the issue here?

First of all respect the culture of the country. If you can't get out.

Second of all , wouldn't you agree this is safer for women though? You think having a random man search you is making you some strong feminist?

So what you're saying is men get frisked by men so for equality women should also be frisked by men? I hope you realise being a feminist doesn't mean you have to do everything a man does to a T. Because if you constantly have to do and undergo everything exactly as a man would then you're not really uplifting women are you? You're just indirectly further glorifying the patriarchy by saying whatever they're doing is right and women need to follow in the steps of men to be respected rather than getting respected for who they are on their own.

" oh then he shouldn't be hired if he's a creep" yeaaahhh sorry to burst your bubble but the world doesn't work like that. Anyone can be , sure a women can touch you the wrong way as well but the chances of that happening are lower than a man towards another woman and you can't deny that.

Having separate areas for women doesn't mean you're excluded or oppressed. You end up at the same place don't you?

I just.... I don't get it. Like what do you want? You want to be felt up by a dude during a search ? Like I just....You might be fine with it like it's protocol but like... there's women who don't want men touching them. It could be cultural or just personal reasons and I don't... I'm sorry I don't know what you white feminists want from this situation. I truly don't.

Women search women and men search men. Yeah this means there different gates. How is this... like sexist?... I just I cant.

Sometimes men don't do it though and women can feel like she was touched inappropriately. There are some who could easily lie to create issues that the male security touched her inappropriately. Then there'd be a whole case and then you'll say the Qatari male security is scum and create another scandal.

You all are truly reaching at this point to spread islamaphobia.

Oh nooo if we're women then a female security helps us oh noooo what a terrible life... oh we are so oppressed......oh noooo..... Islam's bad.... how dare they not let a man do a physical security check when he checks men ....oh how terrible.

I have literally heard so many white women in real life talk about how they really like the separate women's carriages on the trains because they feel so much more comfortable not being squished up against random men. But I guess the Internet is different?

Sure men shouldn't be touching women in the first place but do they ever listen? Is it not better to not be put in that situation to begin with than being harrased and being traumatised?

Like I'm not victim blaming and saying you shouldn't leave you're homes but like if there's a way for you to be safe shouldn't you take it? Yes men shouldn't be harassing you in the first place but if you get hurt you're the one who to live with it not him. If there's a way to prevent anything bad from happenening and it literally doesn't harm you or affect you then why not ?

Honestly it's pathetic the way you're trying to make something that's made to prevent women from feeling uncomfortable a huge problem and acting like it's a crime against woman kind.

[speakingagain]

5.5.2024

Dear Zackary,

We both held music dearly to our hearts. You could spout out facts for hours on end about different bands and pieces and albums.

For me, music was an escape, a safe space, my emotional pit. I could be free from the emotions or I could finally feel them. It was my freedom.

It's been almost a year to date since I left. And I think I have been in the 'anger' stage of grieving for a long while now.

But yesterday I discovered a song. It's absolutely beautiful. The way it delves into the deep haunting notes of a cello, into the higher soothing and hopeful notes of the violins. It is a whole story in a few pages of music.

And the very few lyrics in the song, broke me the moment I heard the scream of "I loved you."

It shattered everything I'd built up as a protection for myself.

It disintegrated every wall, every brick. And I stood, undefended, feeling the music seeping into my bones. I could feel my heartbeat and it seemed to thump extra heavily with the heavy beats of the drums.

And it did something amazing.

I felt inspired for the first time. Not ever, of course. But in months. A year almost.

I was worried I'd lost it.

I could see the paint strokes, I could see the golds glistening in the light. I could see the hope and pain and the growth and death and everything forming on a canvas as a goddess formed.

Yearning for her lost love. Yearning for the good and the bad. Yearning to feel complete. Yearning to complete herself. Yearning to be loved as she thought she was. And finally knowing she was loved and good and bad and complete because she had loved them.

She had won. She had loved. She had lost and gained and broke and rebuilt. She had won.

Then, the song made me cry today. I listened to it a second time, same process as the night before.

Dark room, fan on, music playing, and I stared at my ceiling. I felt the beat in my chest, the cries in her growl as she sang with her whole body and her whole heart.

"And you loved me too."

Fuck.

The next stage of grieving had begun with a single sentence.

I think I would rather be angry.

I know, it's not linear. I know it isn't always the same stage, one after another. There's no time limit per stage. Yeah yeah. I know.

But if my life has taught me anything thus far, it's that people can love you and still do things to hurt you.

Them doing those things doesn't automatically mean that they secretly hated you.

It means they are human and make mistakes. It means they chose the path they wanted. It means they are going in a different direction and choosing themselves.

And I can say "I would never have cheated on my spouse."

But honestly, I don't know what I would do.

Morally, it's fucked up. I know what it feels like to be cheated on. I know what it does to a person. I know what it does to a family. I know it hurts everyone involved, indirectly or directly.

But until I had the opportunity, I never knew what I would do.

I still didn't cheat when given the opportunity. It was never an option for me.

Their love never changed. Your love never changed. It never grew.

I had assumed wrong.

I loved you more.

And you did love me. Of course you did. I felt it. I saw it. I revelled in it.

But it was so much weaker than I could have imagined.

And that's my fault for settling for such a weak love. I deserved better, and I think I knew it too. I just wanted the love I could give. I did give. I wanted to prove I was loveable and I was going to get out and do better.

Love was never meant to be an escape. And for that, I am sorry.

Thank you for loving me what you were capable of. The last six years were some of the worst years of my life. But some of the best too.

Thank you for showing me I could be loved. Thank you for showing me I deserved better.

Thank you for ending the love so I could find what I deserve.

And I'm so sorry for your loss.

I can solidly say, I won.

I was loved. I loved.

I grew. I learned. I am completing myself.

I am loving myself.

I am not 100% there just yet. But I'm getting there.

So thank you. And go fuck yourself, kindly.

No longer your love,

Or your other half,

Mae.

[jasleh]

FFxivWrite2023 Prompt 28: Blunt

character: Rrahna (indirectly) time period: post-6.4/Pandaemonium warnings for: being mean to G'raha (Rrahna doesn't like him much, sorry)

...

Openly dating the Warrior of Light, it seemed, came with inevitable interruptions. Claudien had but recently returned from his short trip to La Noscea and was just getting back into the flow of his research when a red-haired miqo'te wandered in, trying a bit too hard to seem casual about it. He put down the instrument he had been working with and sighed, turning to face the unwelcome visitor.

"Can I help you, Archon?" From the corner of his eyes, he saw Ruissenaud and Nemjiji look up in surprise at the unusual iciness of his tone. He could have been more polite, true, but if this was who he thought it was… well. He'd quite recently been subjected to a rather long rant about this man and the effect he had on Rrahna from someone with very strong opinions on the matter.

"G'raha Tia at your service! I hope I'm not interrupting anything…" Well, that removed all doubt.

"You are, actually," Claudien replied bluntly, once more astonishing his research assistants. "I am very busy. Was there something you needed?"

"Well… I.. uh…" G'raha fidgeted under his unfriendly gaze. "I… had heard you… worked with the Warrior of Light on some project! And I was hoping to learn more about it. As she is a good friend of mine, I follow her adventures very closely, you see."

Yes, I'm sure you do, but I happen to know that 'good friend' is a stretch, thought Claudien. But more than that, I expect you are here to see the competition. And another bit of that earlier conversation floated up from his memory. 'As you are not a secret, perhaps you may protect her in ways that I cannot.' It had sounded strange at the time, but far less so now. Rrahna was polyamorous, but G'raha didn't need to know that.

"As I said, I am very busy," Claudien told him. "I suggest you read the reports." Not that Claudien especially wanted him to read the reports, but there was only so much he could do as a Professor when G'raha was an Archon.

"They're restricted to the Forum still," the miqo'te replied glumly. "I'd ask Rrahna, but she's hard to track down, especially when I have too much work with the Students of Baldesion to leave Sharlayan." Claudien only just managed to suppress a smile. Good news on both counts, so far as he was concerned. "And when she is around, there's rarely time to stand around and talk."

In the background, Nemjiji perked up. "I could…" she trailed off as they both looked at her and Claudien gave a sharp shake of the head behind G'raha's back. "… tell you who to ask?" she continued, clearly trying to find an alternate but plausible path for that sentence. It was an unfortunate path, as Fourchenault was unlikely to turn down such a request from a former Scion, but better than Nemjiji regaling G'raha with the whole story, at least.

"Oh, could you?" G'raha took up the offer eagerly, and was at least soon out of Claudien's lab. Once he was safely away, both of his assistants looked to him for an explanation.

"Professor…" Nemjiji started, "were you jealous?"

Claudien actually felt rather insulted at that. "Hardly. But Rrahna suffers enough from his hero worship. We didn't need to feed it."

"I've never seen you like that before, Professor." It was Ruissenaud who spoke up now. "You almost reminded me of Lahabrea."

"What, really?" Claudien was taken aback by the comparison, but not entirely unpleased.

"Well, you don't have the same air of authority," Ruissenaud admitted, "but the judgement was spot on."

"Hmm… In this case, I think I can live with that."

[walterfairholmes]

todays wacky tag is:

L E G G