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dirtytomatoedwrites · 1 year ago

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Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 1

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Dark!Rafe. Virgin!Reader, Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering, squirting. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 9k words (Yo it took me months to write but I finally did it)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So this is an original idea I’ve had for a while now... and this is the longest fanfic I’ve ever written for a character. Who did I write this tale about Rafe motherfucking Cameron of course. HA! I may do a part 2 but we’ll see based on the response it gets. Love you all and thanks for reading and listening - there’s music in there too so if you can listen to the tracks as you read it’ll heighten the experience. 🫶 Enjoy!

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Rose, elegant and poised as ever, fiddled with Ward's bowtie. It was a futile attempt to straighten it, and you wondered if the Kooks knew how ridiculous they looked, their privileged lives spent fussing over trivial things.

"Do you play?" Ward's voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of interest. He had seen you eyeing the piano in their opulent living room before, and it was clear he suspected you had a musical inclination.

"A little," you replied, shrugging nonchalantly. You didn't want to give too much away. The Kooks had a tendency to pry, and you had learned the hard way that it was better to keep your guard up.

The Camerons were pleasant enough, but like the other Kooks on Figure Eight, they didn't really care about the Pogues. You had grown up being told that Pogues were different from Kooks, but as you got older, you realized it was more complicated than that. The Kooks were narrow-minded, lacking empathy and understanding. They saw the Pogues as nothing more than servants, there to cater to their every whim. It was a toxic dynamic and one that you had learned to navigate with caution.

The key to survival on the Outer Banks was invisibility. You had learned that early on. The less you revealed about yourself, the safer you were. So you didn't tell Ward that your father had started teaching you piano before you could even walk. You didn't tell him that music was your escape, your solace, your everything.

"Well, a bit of something is better than nothing," Ward chuckled, his eyes flickering back to you. "I bought it thinking it would be nice to have music in the house that wasn't rap or pop, but you know how kids are." He chuckled again. "No one seems interested in learning how to play it. If you want to try it out, our door is always open."

The Kooks were the quintessential chameleons, expertly donning the cloak of benevolence and charity. But behind the facade lay their self-centered motives, concealed in plain sight. In their company, you had to be just as duplicitous as them, your true self lost in a sea of artifice. So you donned your own mask of deceit, feigning a grin while burying your true feelings behind a veneer of politeness.

As the grandfather clock in the hallway struck six, Rose and Mr. Cameron stepped into the warm North Carolina evening, dressed to the nines for their elegant black-tie affair. You were left behind in the kitchen with Wheezie, chatting aimlessly about everything and nothing. A comfortable silence settled between you.

"Want to watch a movie, Wheezie?" you asked, but you already knew the answer.

"Maybe next time? I'm having a Stranger Things watch party with my friends. We're on season three, actually," she replied as she pulled out her phone and began texting.

"Oh, that's cool. Sure, let me know when you're hungry and we'll order in."

A few minutes later, you were left alone in the kitchen, grappling with the void of the next five hours stretching before you. Your gaze was inexorably drawn to the open double doors of the living room, and a force beyond your control tugged at your heartstrings.

There, in the corner of the Camerons' living room, stood a magnificent black Steinway & Sons piano. A work of art that you had only seen in fleeting glimpses on the internet, played by virtuosos with mastery beyond compare.

The Camerons' piano was an exquisite piece. Valued upwards of forty thousand dollars, it was a show-stopper that begged to be played in a prestigious concert hall. And yet there it sat in their living room, untouched and unloved.

With a fluttering heart, you approached the baby grand piano, drawn by an unconscious force beyond your control. As you lifted the fallboard, a heady scent of wax and mahogany wafted into your nostrils, creating a longing you could barely contain. Your fingertips brushed against the smooth, pristine ivory keys, unable to resist the urge to touch. As you pressed down on one, a crystalline note filled the air, flawless and true. Before you could even think, you were seated on the bench.

Back straight and feet planted firmly on the floor, you thought about all the classical pieces you had practiced over the years and loved to play. How each piece would sound hollow on your cheap, antiquated piano in your small family home. Music was your first love, and you longed for the day to play on stage accompanied by the New York Symphony Orchestra.

Closing your eyes, you allowed your mind to wander, imagining a sea of faces, a packed audience hanging on your every note. In your mind's eye, you saw your dad sitting in the front row, his gaze filled with pride and love. The thought of his reaction, a validation of all his sacrifices over the years, filled you with purpose.

Driven by your distant dream, you let your fingers glide across the keys, effortlessly weaving a tapestry of sound that flooded the Camerons' living room with music.

With meticulous attention, you listened closely to the dynamics of the piece. You noticed the way the Steinway amplified the subtlest variations in volume, imbuing the composition with a melancholic mood. Your fingers moved with practiced ease, executing intricate runs and arpeggios with fluid grace.

Enraptured by the music, you let the notes wash over you. Every facial expression was a reflection of the emotional journey unfolding before you. As the piece reached its crescendo, your fingers moved faster, striking the keys with greater force, a physical manifestation of your emotions. Your hands flowed in flawless harmony with the rhythm, pouring your soul into the music. And with the final notes, you laughed breathlessly, basking in the afterglow of your musical outpouring.

But your blissful moment was cruelly interrupted as you suddenly sensed you weren’t alone. Your eyes snapped open, and a cold wave of fear washed over you.

“Shit! I am so sorry,” you stammered, your voice trailing off in a rush of apologies as you gingerly lowered the piano fallboard.

“You know,” Rafe’s words were laced with honey, each syllable slow and sweet, yet there was no mistaking the menacing undertone to them. “We don’t take kindly to people touching our things,” he drawled, his intense gaze locked onto yours, a warning glimmer lurking within his dark eyes.

“I… I had permission from your dad,” you insisted, your words barely audible above a whisper as you tried to defend your actions.

His response was a dismissive chuckle. The atmosphere was taut with tension as he nonchalantly propped his golf bag against the wall. Leisurely slow, he sauntered over to you, his hands casually tucked away in his pockets.

“What were you playing anyway?” he inquired, his tone deceptively relaxed.

“You mean the name of the piece?” you swallowed hard, fear palpable. “It’s called Nocturne in C-sharp Minor.”

The tall blonde squinted at you, and you could not decipher his expression. Wanting to avoid further irritation, you slowly rose from the piano bench and dusted it off.

“What kinda name is that?”

“I… I…” you stammered, blood surging in your ears from fear as Rafe suddenly leaned in and lifted the fallboard. He scanned the keys, perhaps checking for any scratches. You took a deep breath. The scent of his expensive cologne and freshly mown grass overwhelmed your senses.

“I don’t know. It worked for Chopin, I guess.” You said quietly.

“Chopin…” he said with his lip jutted.

“He’s the composer. He wrote it and-”

“I know Chopin,” Rafe interrupted, his eyes suddenly locked on you. Up close, you could not deny that they were a striking shade of blue, if not for the death glare he gave you. “Chopin, Beethoven, Einaudi, Bach…” He backed away and sat in a nearby chair. “Brahms… I’ve been to enough of those long-ass concerts to at least know their names.”

You felt a confusing mix of awe and jealousy as you listened to Rafe’s words. The pit in your stomach proved this. You had never been to a proper symphony concert, and the school concerts you had attended were barely amateur. The thought of your dad’s broken promise to take you to one was a constant source of frustration. However, Rafe’s casual disdain for the very concerts he was lucky enough to attend seemed to be a new addition.

“Well… I’m not getting paid to mess around on your piano,” you said with a wry smile, as you tried to mask your emotions.

“You’re right. You’re not,” Rafe retorted while he twisted the gold signet ring around his index finger with his thumb. Head tilted to the side, his eyes raked over every inch of you, from your hair, your oversized sweatshirt and jeans to your worn knockoff Converses. You felt self-conscious under his intense scrutiny. He made you want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“I… I should check on Wheezie,” you whispered, eager to escape the tension in the room.

“Why?” Rafe asked, halting his twirling of the signet ring. His face appeared bemused until a sly grin tugged at his lips. “Weeze is a big girl, right? Might as well… play Chopin while she’s doing her own thing…”

As you babysat for the Camerons, you occasionally spotted Rafe in the vicinity. Sometimes, he was accompanied by a striking beauty, while other times he hung out with his friends. Even when he was alone, his body language was a clear warning: "Keep your distance." His piercing gaze made you feel diminutive and unimportant, as if any attempts at interaction would be met with cold indifference. In his presence, you felt like you were navigating hostile terrain, just a misstep away from a precarious situation.

"Well?" he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his lower lip with a finger. The gesture seemed to carry a message, but what message you weren't sure. What was certain was that his expression of amusement made it evident that the outcome was secondary—he was simply enjoying watching you squirm.

Your tongue darted out to moisten your parched lips, while anxiety twisted in your gut as you stared nervously at the grand Steinway piano and Rafe. The weight of his words lingered in the air, causing you to hesitate and consider the potential consequences of your answer.

Every which way you looked at it, you were fucked.

Rafe was bound to tell his parents, and you were sure enough about to lose your job once they found out. Despite Mr. Cameron's outward kindness and willingness to accommodate, you knew very well that playing their piano without supervision was not within the bounds of your permission. And he certainly would not appreciate you lying about it either.

Still, you were determined to make the most out of a shitty situation. You weren't trying to prove anything to Rafe, but if this was going to be your last time playing a Steinway, you would go out in style.

You had chosen a haunting, evocative melody, a tale of lost love and longing. The notes rang out, clear and true, as your fingers danced over the keys.

Closing your eyes and shutting out the world and Rafe, you allowed the music to flow from your fingertips, guided by instinct and emotion. Your touch was delicate yet confident, breathing life into the haunting melody.

After the last notes of the piece hung in the air like a delicate mist. You held your breath, waiting for some kind of response from Rafe, but all you got was a deafening silence. The room felt like it was closing in on you, and you couldn't help but cast a quick glance in his direction.

Rafe's eyes bored into yours with an intensity that made your heart stop. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. When you finally lowered the fallboard, the tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

"I should check on Wheezie," you whispered, breaking the silence.

Rafe made no reply, and you took that as permission to leave. When you returned downstairs a half hour later, Rafe was nowhere to be seen and you sighed in relief.

In the best-case scenario, Rafe would keep your little transgression to himself. In the worst-case scenario, you could explain to Mr. Cameron that curiosity got the better of you and seek his forgiveness. Either way, you vowed never to touch their piano again.

"What's on your setlist today, piano girl?" Rafe's voice caused your heart to skip a beat, and you nearly spewed out the orange juice pooling in your mouth. A mere week had passed since your previous babysitting job at the illustrious Cameron residence. Yet here you were once again, feeling a pang of anxiety at the mere sight of him. You had desperately hoped to avoid any interaction with Rafe for the remainder of your shift, but fate had other plans in store.

There he was, sauntering into the kitchen, sporting an obnoxiously bright salmon polo shirt that clashed horribly with his teal shorts, and finished with a backwards baseball cap. Despite his frat boy appearance, you couldn't help but admit that he looked undeniably handsome. The realization hit you like a brick and left you feeling inexplicably uneasy.

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Rafe's gaze shifted towards the living room, where the Steinway was waiting behind closed doors.

"No, I don't think it's a good idea," you said, your voice trailing off as you watched Rafe roll his eyes.

"Whatever," he drawled with a dismissive flick of his wrist, exuding an air of nonchalant superiority as he strode out of the kitchen.

You parroted his words under your breath, feeling frustration boil inside you. Despite his insufferable demeanor, you chose to let it slide. After all, you needed this job, and with a week of smooth sailing under your belt, you suspected that Rafe had kept your little piano incident under wraps. You weren't about to jeopardize your livelihood over a petty disagreement with Rafe Cameron of all people.

Just as you were considering taking refuge in the kitchen to avoid Rafe, the sound of a key being struck on the Steinway echoed through the kitchen, beckoning you towards it.

You stepped into the living room, a bundle of nerves and anticipation, only to find Rafe sprawled in the same chair as before. The piano's fallboard was already raised. Its ebony and ivory keys gleamed in the warm light of the setting sun. Rafe's piercing gaze locked onto yours, then flicked towards the piano.

"Do you want me to play something?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe shrugged, looking uninterested. "Do you want to?" he asked, his voice dripping with boredom.

"I don't mind, I guess," you replied, chewing your bottom lip.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you were desperate for another chance to play the Steinway. There was a piece that you couldn't get out of your head, and you knew it would sound magnificent on it. You did not need to be asked twice. But at the same time, you were no fool.

You had heard whispers about the "Kook King." Infamous for settling disputes with his fists, not for acts of kindness. You had no idea what was taking place here or why Rafe was suddenly allowing you to play the Camerons' prized possession. But despite your internal warning bells that this could be a trap, you put your glass of orange juice on the floor next to the bench. Consequences be damned.

Taking a confident breath, you aimed to kill.

As you hit the final notes of the composition, the silence was shattered by Rafe's ragged breaths. Your eyes locked onto his, and you saw a flicker of something in his gaze that was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"I've been working on that one for a while," you said, trying to sound nonchalant despite his stare. "I know it's not perfect, but I-"

"No, it's good," Rafe interjected with a croak. "You're good."

His words validated your talent, and a rush of excitement surged through you, causing a grin to spread across your face as you basked in his praise. But the moment was short-lived as Rafe pulled out his phone and started scrolling, his demeanor shifting from impressed to cold indifference. Without warning, he abruptly rose from his seat, an air of superiority emanating from his towering frame.

"Tell Rose I'm having dinner at Top's," he drawled, his voice dripping with aloofness as he looked down his nose at you.

"Sure, okay," you stammered, still reeling from his sudden change in behavior.

Without another glance in your direction, he strode out of the room, leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened.

It became routine. A ritual. Embedded in your weekly visits to the Cameron residence.

Each time you babysat Wheezie, the air would fill with the soothing sound of classical music, as you took your place at the Steinway and brought the keys to life. Rafe, either in the background or seated nearby, listened intently. His brooding demeanor was a stark contrast to the beauty of the music.

As the weeks went by, playing the Steinway became a treasured routine, and it wasn't just the music that captivated you. With every note played, the invisible barrier between you and Rafe seemed to thin. Despite his reserved exterior, there was a subtle shift in the room when he was around, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him until one evening, a simple question from him sparked a conversation that would change everything.

"Where did you even learn to play like that?" Rafe asked as the sun cast its final rays of light into the opulent living room, painting the space with a breathtaking array of orange, pink, and purple hues.

You had just finished playing a piece by Bach. The air was still thick with the lingering notes of the Prelude as you closed the Steinway lid.

"There's barely electricity on the cut. Far less for piano classes, and even if there was, you can't—you can't teach this, know what I mean? Well, not the way you play it anyway." His tone shifted, taking on a new quality of—dare you think it?—admiration. You couldn't help but wonder if the beer he was drinking had anything to do with his slip of the tongue and the emotions that seemed to seep through in his words.

You cast your eyes to find Rafe leaning forward in his chair, said beer bottle in hand, his hair falling into his face and his eyes laser-focused on you. There was an intensity in his eyes that made you feel like you were being seen, truly seen, by him. But as much as you were flattered by his attention, something lurking in the depths of his gaze made you feel uneasy, and you weren't entirely sure why. You brushed the stray thought aside.

"My dad taught me." You said with pride in your voice. "Did you know they used to have jazz nights at the Wreck?" You turned your body towards Rafe, eager to share this piece of history. "Back then, it wasn't called the Wreck. Anyway, my dad used to play there every night from seven until midnight until the Carreras took over. Now he works on the big oil rig in Burnsville."

"Does he still play?" Rafe asked.

You hesitated for a moment, realizing you were oversharing with Rafe Cameron of all people. But something about his presence made you feel comfortable enough to continue. "No, after my mom left," you trailed off, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "He just gave up on music altogether."

Rafe looked down, his expression unreadable.

"I guess I'm trying to keep the tradition alive, in my own way. It's not jazz, but he approves." You smiled softly. "Anyway, what about you?"

Arresting blue eyes flicked up at yours, and your stomach flipped.

"What about me?" he asked, his voice low and husky, dripping with curiosity and challenge. He leaned back in his chair, the rattan creaking beneath him. He lazily ran a hand through his blonde hair, revealing his chiselled features. You weren't sure why, but the gesture felt calculated. As though it was meant to entice you. And yet you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest as you drank in the sight of him.

"No offense, but you don't look like the type to be into..." you waved your hand towards the piano, trying to deflect his gaze and lighten the mood.

"Yeah? What do I look like I'm into?" Rafe purred seductively, his tongue swiping his top lip. His eyes fixed on you. You didn't miss his tone. The double entendre just beneath the surface, if you were bold enough to respond to it. You were sure the alcohol running through his veins had something to do with his sudden flirty behavior. Tomorrow, he'd probably forget the whole thing. But it still didn't stop the butterflies from dancing in your stomach.

"I...I..."

"Go on, don't be shy," Rafe coaxed, his eyes dark and intense, almost daring you to take the bait.

"I don't know," you breathed out a laugh, suddenly feeling flustered and self-conscious.

"Yeah, you do." Rafe said, his tone low and teasing. "Saying I don't look like the type means you have a type in your head. So, let's hear it. What kind of man do you think I am, Y/N?"

You were certain this was not about music anymore, and you felt way out of your element. What were you supposed to say about that? You decided to keep the conversation neutral and err on the side of caution.

"Okay," you nodded as you shifted on the bench. "You look like the type to be interested in other types of music, you know like rap or hip-hop, rock— even country, anything but this."

Rafe looked away with a chuckle, a deep rumble that made your skin tingle. He nodded slowly, pondering your words.

"Does that sound bad? I know it sounds awful. I'm sorry." You cringed.

"Nah, it's pretty tame actually... innocent even..." Rafe murmured more to himself than to you. You shivered as his piercing blue gaze met yours, then slowly traveled down to your lips, neck, and every inch of your oversized t-shirt and cardigan to your jeans-covered body.

He cleared his throat, his voice low as he spoke. "And you're not wrong. Classical music was my mom's thing. She loved it." He said taking a swig of his beer.

"Oh," you breathed out, taken aback by the unexpected answer. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. Why Rafe was always so engrossed in the music each time you played. The wistful expression that crossed his face whenever he heard familiar pieces of music. It was like a window into his soul, a glimpse into a hidden part of him that he kept from the world. And just as you pieced together your thoughts, Rafe spoke, confirming your suspicions.

"We used to go to the mainland to see 'The Four Seasons' or 'Carmen' or some other shit like that. I don't know, it reminds me of her, I guess. Takes me back to happier times." Rafe shrugged, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he sipped his beer.

"I'm sorry..." you whispered.

"Nah, don't be. She was sick for a long time, and now she's... Anyway, It's all good now." Rafe replied with a forced nonchalance, a fragile façade attempting to conceal his true emotions.

"So, you listen to classical music for nostalgia..." you whispered, your voice tinged with a touch of melancholy.

“I guess you could say that,” Rafe said thoughtfully, tilting his head from side to side as he considered your words. He scrunched up his face, eyebrows drawn together as if he had tasted something bitter. ��But I'm not a classical music aficionado or anything. It’s not like I’m requesting it in the club. Can you imagine that shit? Right after 21 Savage fuckin’ Mozart on blast. I’d get jumped.”

"I don’t know, you might start a trend," you smiled.

“Sounds like you want me to get jumped”

You outright laughed at that one. “Well, it depends, do you deserve it?”

“Oof” Rafe countered, clutching his chest faux wounded. “That was good.”

You shrugged with a smile, feeling an unexpected kinship with Rafe of all people. Here was this tough, brooding guy who, beneath the surface, was incredibly sentimental and even had a sense of humor. It was a sweet and surprising discovery.

"What about you? Why do you play?" He asked, his blue eyes roaming across your facial features slowly, curiously, when your laughter had died and all that was left was contented silence.

"Good question. Why do I play? Well, I guess for me... it's about the emotion," you replied, your fingers tracing the Steinway keys without pressing them. "Each note, each chord, each composition tells a story. It's like I'm a part of that story, and I get to bring it to life. You don’t need words you just… feel it.”

Rafe nodded, understanding. "I get it. You're the storyteller. The piano is your instrument channelin’ that shit.”

"Exactly!" you said, touching your nose and pointing to him with an earnest laugh.

"Exactly," Rafe repeated with a soft chuckle, his gaze fixated on you.

“Hey, how come I never see you at bonfires?” Rafe asked, a mischievous glint in his eye one sunny afternoon when Rose and Mr. Cameron went out for drinks with friends, leaving Wheezie in your care.

“Bonfires just aren’t my thing,” you replied with a shrug.

“What, no friends to hang out with?” he teased.

“I have plenty of friends!” you retorted, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips.

“Friends that I’ve never seen you with,” he pressed.

“What do you mean ‘friends I’ve never seen you with’ are you stalking me around town?”

“Maybe I am...” he shrugged a small devious smile curled his lips. “Whatever. Well, my friends and I clearly hang out when you’re not around,” you shot back, a playful smile lighting up your face.

“Sure you do,” he drawled, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Rafe leaned forward against the piano, the sun casting a warm glow on his handsome features. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, and how the muscles in his arms flexed under his t-shirt while he absentmindedly tapped his index finger on the piano lid.

“You know, there’s more to life than playing music,” Rafe said, his voice low and smooth, as he turned the words over with his tongue. His finger tapping the lid, became slower, more measured.

“Oh, I know that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I have plenty of other things going on.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like studying,” you said, trying to keep a straight face as Rafe scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m actually quite serious about my grades.”

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a good girl," Rafe chuckled. Once again, his comment caught you off guard. Although you knew he wasn't mocking you, it still felt strange that he felt the need to mention what he perceived was good girl behavior. “Seriously though, you should have some real fun too. Do some shit you probably shouldn’t do. Life’s too short to be cooped up not living it.”

You shrugged, unsure of what to say. Rafe had a point, but you weren’t sure if bonfires were the kind of fun you were looking for. Still, there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but swallow nervously. As if reading your thoughts, Rafe leaned closer.

“You know, I could show you a good time if you want.” Rafe’s voice was low and husky as he leaned in close, his minty breath fanning your cheek. While he had flirted before, this time there was a sober earnestness to his words that made your heart race. But before you could even formulate a response, the front door's slam cut through the thick tension.

Rafe straightened himself, briefly glancing towards the hallway before fixing his gaze back on you, his jaw tightly clenched in irritation. With determined strides, he purposefully walked away, the sound of his long steps resonating down the corridor, while you unintentionally caught snippets of his familiar argument with Sarah.

It seemed Sarah had developed an interest in John B, a guy you had seen around town, but Rafe vehemently disapproved due to his “pogue” status. You couldn’t fathom why he held such strong opposition, especially considering that you, too, were a Pogue. Had he conveniently forgotten? Or did he consider you an exception?

As you closed the lid of the Steinway, an inescapable curiosity filled your mind about what set your relationship with Rafe apart. Maybe he only saw you as a friend rather than a romantic interest the way Sarah felt about John B.

Reluctant to admit it to yourself, the thought pierced through, leaving you with a confusing mixture of disappointment, anger, and self-annoyance for even entertaining the idea that Rafe could ever feel that way about you.

As Rafe persisted in berating his sister, you dismissed any contemplation of what might have happened between the two of you if she had arrived just a few minutes later.

“Hello?”

“I'm in here.” Rose’s voice, sharp as a razor’s edge, resonated through the foyer of the Camerons’ residence. As you entered the kitchen, you discovered her gingerly picking up the remnants of a shattered vase from the tiled floor. You offered to help her, but she brushed you off with a dismissive gesture.

“No need, honey. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” She said, smiling unconvincingly.

Mr. Cameron burst into the room a few seconds later. His dominating presence charged the atmosphere, his eyes glinting like ice. It was only when his eyes landed on you that his demeanour changed.

“Oh, Y/N. Thanks for coming on such short notice. We’ll only need you for two hours. Sarah should be back by then.” He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” You replied. You scurried out of his path as he snatched a file and car keys from the kitchen table.

“I’ll be in the car.” He informed Rose tersely, eliciting a stiff nod from her.

Feeling Rose’s disquiet, you intervened to clear the shattered vase. “I can pick these up for you, Rose.” You said warmly.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” You assured her with a nod.

“Thank you.” She murmured, her smile returning. “Wheeze is upstairs doing her homework. I’m sorry about all of this. Things are a bit crazy today.” She said, her grip on her bag and sunglasses tightening as if she were holding onto her sanity by a thread. And with that, she vanished, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the shattered pieces of the vase.

Having cleared the wreckage, you climbed the stairs to find Wheezie immersed in her studies in her room, her headphones firmly in place. You inquired if she needed anything or was okay, but she appeared blissfully unaware of the chaos that had unfolded. You marvelled at her ability to concentrate amidst the turmoil, yet you couldn’t dispel the nagging suspicion that the Camerons hid a dark secret beneath their façade of rich superiority. With a sigh, you left Wheezie to her schoolwork and descended the stairs as the sound of the living room door being opened roused your suspicions.

As you passed the living room, your heart sank at the sight of Rafe. He was sitting on his usual chair, swaying back and forth, lost in a jumble of incoherent words. His eyes were bloodshot and streaked with tears. You hurried towards him, your mind racing with worry and fear. You sat down on the floor in front of him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

He responded with a roar that shook you to your core. The words that spilled out of Rafe’s mouth were like knives, cutting deep into your soul. He berated himself with a ferocity that was frightening, how he was a failure in his father’s eyes, how he was nothing but a disappointment. You placed a comforting hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying to offer some solace amidst his torment.

His eyes flicked to your hand, then to your face, as if seeing you for the first time. Rafe’s jaw tightened, his eyes raw with emotions you couldn’t decipher. There was anger there, yes, but there was something else too – something deeper, more primal.

“Play something.” He suddenly demanded.

“I can- I can get someone for you. Do you want me to call your-”

“No. I don’t want that. I want you to play.” He almost sneered at you.

“Okay.” You whispered tentatively.

You made your way to the piano, your fingers trembling with anticipation. As you began to play, the haunting melody flowed from your fingertips.

As the tender notes from the piano enveloped you, the outside world ceased to exist. Within the protective cocoon of the Cameron's living room, you hoped your music might be a balm for Rafe’s pain. But this sanctuary of sound was violently shattered when an aggressive tug at your hair ripped you from your reverie.

Suddenly, Rafe was there, his fingers cruelly ensnared in your hair, exerting a force so savage it wrenched your head backward, choking off your breath and stilling the music in one brutal tug. The once harmonious room was now charged with an electrifying tension, your eyes captured and held hostage by the ferocity in his.

This was not the Rafe you knew.

The Rafe towering above you appeared utterly transformed. Unrecognizable in every way. Gone was the Rafe who had shared countless evenings filled with laughter and sharing stories. Gone was the anchor that made you feel connected and safe.

Instead, frustration etched itself onto his face like a battle scar, while his dilated pupils revealed an intensity you had never witnessed before, oscillating between your fear-stricken eyes.

His gaze dipped to your parted lips as you let out the breath you were holding, and before you could react, before you could appease him, Rafe captured your lips with his.

You froze. Paralyzed against Rafe's lips. Shock stole your breath away.

Time stopped in an instant as you grappled with the thought that this was a dream, a surreal nightmare. But that fragile notion shattered like glass as Rafe's movements became evident. His lips melded against yours like clay taking form. Hard and desperate, his kiss abruptly catapulted you back into the chilling reality that this was, without a doubt, happening.

Your instinct for survival surged as your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You attempted to push him away, but Rafe tightened his grip on your hair and yanked harder, forcing your submission, his tongue plunging into your mouth when you whined in protest.

The taste of alcohol on Rafe’s tongue was bitter and overwhelming. You tried to convince yourself that this was the reason behind Rafe's behaviour. Any moment now, he would realize his mistake, any moment he would let you go. But instead, Rafe's fingers sank into the hollow of your jaw, holding it open while his tongue explored the warm interior of your mouth.

You whimpered softly as his tongue twirled against yours with ferocity. Rafe adjusted his hand in your hair and gripped tighter, making you cry out as pain surged through your scalp and neck. The sound didn't deter him, as he forced your head back drinking from your mouth greedily.

Discordant notes rang out as you lashed out wildly, reaching for anything you could hold onto for balance. Your hands found Rafe's bicep and you dug your nails into his skin, trying to pull his hand away as he kissed you like a man possessed.

Your entire body was inflamed with sensations you had never experienced before as pleasure and pain bled into one. Your scalp ached yet your body felt hot. Your nipples were suddenly sensitive to your sweater's scraggly wool while you ached between your legs for something you had not experienced before. The whirlwind of sensations new and overwhelming within you made your eyes flutter shut on their own, your hands sliding up Rafe's wrist as you held on for balance.

Rafe's mouth worked over yours with an intensity so raw that your protests turned into breathless moans and frantic gasps as you succumbed to his kiss. Your tongue tentatively meets his stroke for stroke. Rafe growled in approval and you could feel him smile into the kiss, his tongue stoking the fire deep within you and just as quickly as it started, Rafe abruptly pulled away leaving you shaking and struggling for air.

Your heart raced within your chest as you abruptly pushed yourself off the piano bench, nearly causing it to tip over in your haste. Hand clutching your chest, you struggled to catch your breath, hastily wiping away tears that had unknowingly streamed down your cheeks.

A fleeting glance at Rafe revealed his heavy breathing, his mouth agape in quick, shallow pants, and his pupils dilated, tinged with a faint hint of blue. Yet, it was the expression etched upon his face that sent a wave of terror crashing over you.

Rafe's eyes showed no remorse.

Instead, you saw an overwhelming hunger within them that made your blood run cold. Rafe’s gaze moved down from your stunned face over your trembling body. The danger that emanated from him made your knees buckle.

You took a step back, your mind whirling with fear and apprehension. But Rafe stepped forward, his eyes locked onto yours with determination.

"I-- I need to check on Wheezie. See what she'd like for dinner," you whispered, your voice shaking as you inched backwards toward the door. You turned to run but it was too late.

Rafe reached out and snatched the hem of your sweater, yanking you towards him. You struggled to break free, twisting and thrashing like a scared kitten in his grip but Rafe was relentless. His other hand reached for your waist as he pulled you close. His nose and lips trailed the back of your neck and into your hairline and he groaned as he breathed you in. With a jab of your elbow into his rib you wriggled free. It wasn't enough to wound him but it gave you the head start needed to run.

You dashed from the room, Rafe's pursuit relentless. His outstretched fingers grazed your sweater, narrowly missing its mark. It wasn't until you sprinted up the stairs that he abandoned the chase. You didn't need to glance back to feel his gaze on you. The tendrils of his breathless laugh reverberated down the corridor.

You burst into Wheezie's room, a hot mess of tears and fear. You made up some excuse about feeling unwell and had to go home immediately. After calling Rose and arranging for a replacement babysitter for Wheezie, you sat in her room and waited for the sitter to arrive.

You didn't see Rafe when you left, and you thanked God for that. You knew that if you saw him, you would break down crying, and you couldn't bear to show him any more weakness. But the tears came anyways, hot and heavy, as soon as you got home. How could you have been so stupid? You knew all the rumors about him, knew that he wasn't a good guy, and yet somehow, you thought in your warped mind that he was different. A decent human being who was simply misunderstood.

It wasn't like you didn't see the signs. They were always there, staring you right in the face. The blatant flirting, the staring, the way he undressed you with his gaze. You dismissed every red flag, thinking he couldn't like you in that kind of way because you were not the type of girl Rafe Cameron would go for and you certainly weren't the type of girl Rafe Cameron would kiss.

And it wasn't just the kiss that scared you. It was the fact that Rafe had no intention of stopping. It was the way he held onto you, the way he made you feel like you were drowning in a sea of desire. He was a predator, relentless in his pursuit of you, and as you thought about how he grabbed onto your clothes his lips tracing your neck even as you protested you couldn't help but cry even harder.

No. There was no way you were setting foot in that house again. Not after the way Rafe kissed you, not after what he was determined to get out of you.

Over the next few weeks, Rose's texts kept coming, each one more insistent than the last. But you knew better than to give in to her demands. You couldn't go back to that house, not after what had happened with Rafe. It was too dangerous, too risky, and you couldn't afford to let your guard down again.

You thought about telling her what had happened with Rafe, but the thought of it made your stomach turn. How could you explain what had happened without sounding like a fool? That you had been hanging out with her stepson for months, that you had let things get out of hand?

You had every intention of never setting foot in that house again. But then Rose sent you a text, asking if you were available on Saturday. They were desperate, she said, and willing to offer triple what they usually paid. Rafe and Sarah were going to a game and the lady who was supposed to look after Wheezie had a family emergency.

You were going to turn them down, again, but the truth was that since you had dropped them as a client, it had been difficult to find other work. So, against your better judgement, you agreed, but only after Rose confirmed that she and Mr Cameron would be home long before Sarah and Rafe returned.

As the day of the babysitting gig approached, a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew that you shouldn't go, that it was too risky, too dangerous. But the promise of easy money was too tempting to ignore. And so, against your better judgement, you found yourself standing in front of the Cameron's house once again, your heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation.

As you approached the front door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Rose had texted you on your way over, telling you that she would be getting ready and to let yourself in. But when you rang the doorbell and received no answer, you began to worry. Still, you didn't think anything of it when you turned the door handle and found that it was unlocked. You stepped inside and called out for Wheezie and Rose, but the house was silent.

Making your way to the kitchen, you put down your bag and pulled out your phone. You texted Rose and Wheezie to let them know that you had arrived and were in the kitchen, just in case Wheezie was plugged in. But as you waited for a response, your heart sank.

Something wasn't right. You could feel it.

You had been to the Camerons' house many times and had let yourself in on a few occasions when they were too busy to answer the door. None of this was new but it felt different. An ominous feeling washed over you. But just as you began to worry, the sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted your thoughts, and you sighed in relief.

As you called out for Rose, a sudden hush fell over the room, broken only by the sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up, hoping to see Rose's familiar figure, but instead, your eyes met the last person you expected to see: Rafe.

His presence was jarring, like a thunderclap on a clear day. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make sense of his unexpected appearance. But before you could utter a word, Rafe's murmur cut through the silence like a knife.

"Nah, not Rose," he said with a smile.

Fear took hold of you as you realized that he must have had something to do with Rose's texts in the first place. You stepped back, fear making your knees buckle.

"Where's Rose?" you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, as if shielding yourself from him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he drawled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Don’t come near me,” you said firmly as Rafe rounded the kitchen island towards you. Immediately, you moved in the opposite direction away from him.

“I… I just… I needed to talk to you, like, a little bit. Is that okay?” he said, opening his hands to placate you.

“Did Rose actually text me?”

“She did,” Rafe soothed. “But then I, uh… I heard you’d be here tonight instead of Pat, and well… seeing you was more important to me than some game.” His eyes trailed over your face, studying your every reaction.

“Where’s Wheezie?”

“With Sarah.”

You shook your head, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Rafe have orchestrated this situation for you to be alone with him without any of the Camerons noticing? But as if he heard your thoughts, a sly smile curled his lips and he chuckled softly.

“I told Rose I’d watch over Wheeze so she could catch an early ferry,” Rafe explained, his hands moving in slow, deliberate gestures, connecting invisible dots as he spoke. “After Rose left I gave my ticket to Wheeze.”

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Look, I know the last time I was a little… a little intense…”

“Intense!” You choked. You would have laughed if the whole thing wasn’t so heartbreaking.

“Yes, and I’m -- I'm really sorry about that, okay? I really am.”

"You tried to ra-”

"No! No, no, I would never..." Rafe rushed towards you and you immediately backed away. He froze mid-step as you cowered, his hands still raised in surrender. "I’m sorry things were confusing and it looked that way but I wasn't trying to hurt you. God, I- l’m-" Rafe sighed, deflated his hands landed on his hips, he looked away as he pressed his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"You're sorry it looked that way?" you whispered your voice trembling. Rafe's words echoed in your mind while memories of that day in all its menacing glory flooded back. You looked at him flabbergasted.

"Rafe...you... you were kissing me-”

“I know but I-”

“And touching me--"

He breathed out a laugh "Come on, you know I was only-,"

“Without my consent, Rafe.”

He was silent with that and you hoped your words had finally sunk in, had finally made him understand how terrifying he was in that moment.

“Then you chased me. You chased me like some...” you couldn’t even finish the sentence. You didn’t know how to finish the sentence. You were so hurt and confused. That your friend could do something like that to you. “I don’t even know who you are. I- I don’t think I ever did,” you whispered.

Rafe's eyes landed on yours with that. His gaze was dark and intense, and for a moment, you thought you had gotten through to him because he nodded slowly. But then he let out a humourless chuckle, reminding you of the one he gave post-chase, and any hope of reaching him dissipated.

"You know, it’s funny ‘cause you say that...” Rafe said coldly, a hand gesturing to you as if trying to grasp his own thoughts “But you’re not entirely innocent in all of this, are you?”

“I don't-- I don't understand."

“Do you have any idea what you're doing to me, huh, Y/N?

"Raf—"

"What kind of mental shit you put me through? Nah, you don't. You don't think about that, do you?" he asked, his hands gesturing toward you as his eyes narrowed and he stared you down. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized the gravity of Rafe's words. It was as if he was confessing to a darker truth, a mental anguish that he had been helplessly consumed by, something unintentionally sparked within him by your actions.

"I have my dad on my back talking about legacies, our family business and preparing me for that shit meanwhile Sarah’s running around town doing god knows what with some loser fucking up our family name. I have real shit to deal with...” he gave out a bitter laugh his hand clutched to his chest as he confessed.

“But even with all of that all I can think about every minute of every fucking day, is you.” Rafe's voice was raw and anguished. His hand moved up to his ear as he slowly walked towards you.

"It's like you've crawled into my brain, you know? Like I’m under some fucking spell with your music and your voice and your-" His eyes trailed down your body just as his hand followed the motion, and you shuddered. He was consuming you with his gaze every sinful thought etched across his features.

"Nah, you made me do this…” he said bitterly, his jaw clenched tight.

“Rafe--”

“You did and now I'm the bad guy because I had a moment of weakness. But you know what? Fuck, it.” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Fuck it, i’ll take responsibility for my part in this--”

“Rafe--”

“That’s what real men do, right? Take responsibility for their shit and I’m all about being accountable, so yeah, I kissed you.” He said nodding slowly. “But I’m not sorry.”

His words made you recoil, disbelief etched across your face as you stared at him.

“Yeah, you want me to pretend like I am. Act apologetic but I won’t. I'm not sorry and you should quit actin’ like you didn't enjoy it."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the weight of his accusation settling in your stomach. Stunned, you opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. A dry, humorless laugh left you instead. Rafe simply nodded slyly as he resumed his steps towards you, and as you stepped backwards, your back collided with the kitchen counter.

“That’s- that’s not true.”

“No?” he asked faux confused.

“It’s not- that’s not fair”

“Isn’t it?” he tutted.

"Rafe, listen to me," you whispered shakily, but he was already leaning in, his eyes dark and clouded.

"No. No, no, you listen.” he rasped, circling in and looking down on you, his lips pouted as he leaned into the shell of your ear, “You were moaning Y/N- No, don’t do that. Don’t shake your head, and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don't stand there and pretend this whole fucking thing is one-sided. You were moaning into my mouth… and you...you held on to me, yeah? I didn’t force you to do those things."

"Rafe--”

“That was all you princess. So you gotta ask yourself. What kinda girl are you to be into that, hm?” Rafe whispered as he leaned into you. “What kinda girl would moan like a whore when a guy manhandles her…”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t. I wanted you to stop Rafe and you-”

Rafe chuckled before you could even finish your sentence.

“Is that what was happening while you were kissing me back? Nah, see I know what your problem is. I know, I know, I know…” he repeated softly, as he gently rested his hands on your hips. “I know why you ran when deep down you wanted it.”

You opened your mouth to protest only for Rafe to push his body up against yours. The hard wall of his body renders you speechless. “We eye fucked each other for months,” he whispered, as he looked down at you. His eyes darted to your lips as he licked his own. “You wanted it.” He said coldly.

"But I get it. It was overwhelming... too much... too soon... hm?" he murmured as his nose grazed yours. "I should have approached you more patiently. I realize that now," he acknowledged with a slow nod. "I should have been gentle with you, and I had every intention to. But I -- I wanted you so bad that day that I couldn't think straight. I'm thinking straight now, though."

“Rafe...” you breathed out, your hands on his chest to push him away but not quite having the strength to do so. Rafe must have picked up on this because he leaned in, his lips close to yours.

“You keep saying my name but you’re not telling me to stop...” Rafe whispered as his fingers caressed your cheek. With a gentle touch, he lifted your chin, and you willingly yielded. His caress made you sway, your mind growing hazy and confused. To regain your balance, you closed your eyes.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop, hm?” he whispered.

You could feel the electricity between you as Rafe leaned in, lips hovering over yours and you tilted your head up slightly, closing the distance, only to be met with nothing. When you opened your eyes, you were met with Rafe’s hooded ones a victorious smile creeping across his lips.

“Come on” Rafe whispered, and before you could protest Rafe laced his fingers in yours and gently tugged you towards the living room.

Seated at the piano, Rafe smoothly lifted the fallboard with ease.

"Play something for me," he husked, gesturing for you to take a seat beside him on the bench. You felt a flutter of nervousness as you perched yourself next to him, unsure of where to start. You couldn't comprehend how you had gone from rejecting his advances to this moment of willing compliance and acceptance.

Rafe watched you intently. You had been up-close to Rafe before, but never this close. Not this intimately. Your mind became blank, overwhelmed with the prospect of playing for him.

"I...I don't know what to..." you stuttered.

"Anything, anything at all," Rafe whispered, his eyes studying your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your trembling fingers on the keys and began to release the notes, slowly at first, but gaining confidence with every passing moment.

“I noticed you, you know,” Rafe rasped. His knuckles suddenly grazed your cheek, and you flinched. “The first time you came to babysit Wheeze, I noticed you.” Rafe followed his knuckles as he moved them across your jaw.

“I remember thinking you were beautiful… shy… innocent…” Opening his hand, his fingers trailed down your neck, and your breath hitched.

“You were wearing this exact sweater…” His fingers splayed over your collarbone as they moved slowly down to your chest.

“What are you hiding under here, hm?” he asked softly. “What are you hiding under these baggy clothes?”

You shied away from his touch, your hands withdrawing from the keys of the piano.

"No. None of that. I’ll tell you when to stop,” he said his voice stern yet soft. Your eyes glanced at his as Rafe inched closer. “I’ll tell you when to stop.” he iterated slowly. “Start again.”

Swallowing you placed your hands on the keys while the music resumed from your fingertips.

Rafe shifted closer his leg flushed against your own. He wrapped his arm over the back of you and hooked it to the other side of the bench. Leaning in, his nose ghosted your neck.

“Raf-”

“Shhhh…”His nose nudged into your hairline. His other hand on your chest continued its exploration. It moved lower cupping your tit over your sweater. The gasp you make made Rafe breathe even heavier, a deep pur coming from the back of his throat.

“Please-” you whispered shakily.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you, you know that? Every time you played I’d think about what you’d feel like... what you’d look like, moaning for me. I wanna hear you moan for me.”

Determined Rafe’s hand moved lower until it dipped under your sweater and you gasped when his warm fingers brushed the skin of your stomach. His other hand let go of the piano stool and was now under your sweater squeezing your tit through your bra.

“Rafe--”

“Keep playing” he whispered against your neck and you did. His hand at your stomach moved lower, finding the button on your jeans he unbutton it with one deft move and your hands falter.

“Keep playing” he murmured, face nudging into your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your throat. “I wanna hear you play while I touch you”

The sensation of Rafe's hands on your body was almost lost in the overwhelming numbness that had taken over you. His strong hand leisurely tugged at the waistband of your panties seeking to touch what lay beneath, while his other hand snaked under your bra. He caressed and teased your nipple until a soft sob erupted from you.

Rafe moved his hand lower, slipping it between your wet folds and pushing his middle finger inside of you. You cried out, the intensity of sensation causing you to clutch onto Rafe's arm for support, music abandoned.

“It’s okay “ Rafe breathed deeply into your neck, as he roughly peppered your neck with kisses. “You're okay. Just breathe...” and as he said those comforting words he gently wormed another slender finger passed your slippery folds and into you.

You hissed, trying to move away from the burning stretch of his long fingers. Your nails dug into the flesh of his wrist with enough force to draw blood but Rafe determined as ever slowly moved his fingers in and out of you, each time inserting them a little deeper until it reached his signet ring.

"You've had more than one finger before?" he asked hotly against your neck. You shook your head no, gritting your teeth in an effort to endure him stretching you further still. Rafe groaned and nipped softly at your jawline, "Fuck, I can tell. I can barely move them. But you're a good girl, aren't you? You're taking them well and afterwards, I'm gonna train you to take all of me."

Rafe's lips trailed tender kisses down the length of your neck, then his mouth closed hungrily around the sensitive skin. His two fingers moved inside you and each slow thrust drew a soft moan from your lips.

With surety, he curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, barely grazing your clit with his thumb. The sensation was overwhelming and foreign, causing you to gasp and cum embarrassingly fast. Your pussy contracting around his fingers, milking them for all they were worth.

“Oh Fuuckk…” Rafe hissed. “You liked that, I can feel it.“ He sighed utterly mesmerised. “Well, if you like that...” Rafe groaned resting his forehead against the side of your face and planting soft kisses on your cheek. “You’re gonna love this.”

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, Rafe's probing fingers started their relentless hunt for something deep within you. Suddenly, those searching digits found what they were looking for - a spot that caused you to arch over and clutch his hand as you cried out despite your best efforts.

“Oh- there it is” he chuckled softly, shunting his hand and hitting that spot over and over again with a speed and force that knocked the breath out of you, while his thumb expertly rubbed your clit and the fingers of his other hand mercilessly pulled and twisted your nipple.

“OhmyGOD!” you cried.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck my hand. Just like that.”

Rafe kept at it, even as your nails scraped along his wrist and arm for purchase. Even as you screamed and tried to scissor your legs closed to shut him out. None of it mattered as your eyes crossed and you felt your orgasm raw and violent crash over you.

Bucking violently into Rafe’s hand, you could feel your release seep through your jeans and onto the piano bench. Pooling and overflowing you could hear it trickle onto the hardwood floor and still, Rafe kept going, kept finger fucking you.

Lost in a sea of agonising pleasure you could do nothing but slump against him and take it, your hips stuttering, your mouth sagging as you whimpered and gasped.

Rafe moaned against you, planting soft kisses on the column of your throat. He stilled his hand, his fingers buried deep inside while you desperately tried to catch your breath.

"Seems my fingers are just as talented as yours, hm?" he said with a breathless chuckle. His nose trailed along your neck, while his tongue darted out to capture the perspiration nestled there.

Gently, Rafe removed his digits while you gazed in shock, unable to voice a single word as he brought the wet fingers to his lips and ravenously lapped up your fluids with a contented hum.

“This is too much.” you said hoarsely “I can’t-- I can't do this. No more, Rafe. No more,” you said weakly, trying to remove his hand from your breast and move away from his hold only for Rafe to seize your wrist painfully in his grasp.

"No more?" Rafe chuckled darkly, his gaze fixed on you with dilated pupils. "No more?" he repeated, inching closer as he shook his head. "Nah, baby. No. We're just getting started..."

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Thank you for reading. Thanks for liking and reblogging. PART 2 / MASTERLIST

#rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe fic #outer banks fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe #obx #obx rafe cameron #selfreblog #timezone reblog

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councilofcastamere · 5 months ago

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DANGEROUSLY YOURS | AEMOND T. X READER

"An eternity without me. You will look into the faces of passers-by that will, for an instant, bring me back to you. You will find moonlit nights strangely empty, because, when you call my name through them, there will be no answer. Always your heart will be aching for me, and your mind will give you the doubtful consolation that you did, a brave thing."

Cesar Romero as Victor Morell - Dangerously Yours (1937)

CREDITS FOR THE AEMOND PICTURE TO ultravi0l3t on Pinterest!

You were foolish. Foolishly in love.

The moonlit lit up, and the hour of the owl drew closer and closer. And yet, no sign of your little brother Lucerys. With each breath you drew, your heart stilled more and more.

You just knew it was him. You knew Aemond would. You had always known he'd wait for the right day to strike. The tears streaming down your eyes could've drowned you for all you care, but you wished for everything you had to bring Lucerys back.

And the one thing worse than that was the trust you put in him. You blinded yourself by love and drowned yourself in trust, all for him. All for the one-eyed prince you grew to both love and loathe.

You loathed yourself. You felt as if the world could have swallowed you up and no one would blink an eye. You had hoped for one day where you could look back at it and laugh, but at what point in your life could you ever let this go? A tragedy at your hands. You had not even attempted to stop him from departing to the stormlands.

Before you could bite back another sob, one feet stepped forward, and so did the other. Repeating the process before you could even register you were in front of the prince's chambers.

You didn't know what you would do first. Would you strike him, or would you cry into his shoulders? You wished for the former one, prayed to the Seven that you would be strong enough to shun him as he shunned your concerns.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the door opened just enough for his face to peek out. His hair was hastily brushed, as if he wanted you to see him in a different light. As if you ever could.

"Let me in." you simply uttered, not sure if you were speaking about his chambers. "Let me enter."

His eye scanned over you, over your purple nightdress and your hair undone. Even in the nocturnal hours, you looked as majestic as ever.

Your brown curls, so reminiscent of your father.

But he couldn't care less about your father, no.

Not your brothers. Not your mother. No. You.

And right now, he wasn't sure if he could face your tragedy-stricken self. He felt validated in the slaughter he committed, but your words could've alone made him repent for forgiveness.

He contemplated a few seconds, before ultimately opening the door wide. The room was neat, with the exception of his books sprawled out on his bed and table. You had never seen it before.

"Where is Lucerys?" you asked quietly, your voice cracking as your hands clenched at the side of your dress. "He hasn't come home. Mother won't tell me anything. She's still in Dragonstone, and I am here. I have been here for years, waiting to marry you."

His gaze was prideful, yet you weren't able to see his heart ache at your own grief. Whatever you felt, he felt. His feelings were dangerously yours, and yours were his.

"Stormlands." he answered, turning away as to not feel too much. "At least, if the sea hasn't swept him somewhere else."

Your head whipped up, and you swear you could feel your neck cracking if the rage hadn't consumed you.

"We both know he isn't in the ocean." you spat, the tears streaming down again. "What have you done, Aem-"

Aemond couldn't have it. He knew your last word.

'Aemond' instead of 'Aemy. He hated that you felt the need to use his full name. You had never used his full name, and you were not about to start now of all times.

His rugged yet soft lips were felt on yours, interrupting your words. The feelings in you dissipated, and you wanted to feel angry again.

How you wished to feel anger, sadness, anything.

But how could you when love overpowered it all for him. Only for him, by him. You loathed yourself for it.

"Get yourself dressed." he murmured against your lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. his nails gently scraped against your delicate skin.

"We'll be wedded by the end of this night. You and I. No one else."

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dingus11111 · 10 months ago

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So… I binged Castlevania: Nocturne the day it came out.. Now I can’t get over Edouard. I literally love him so much, so without further ado…

NIGHT CREATURE!EDOUARD X NIGHT CREATURE!MALE READER

Warnings: NSFW, AMAB anatomy, horny reader, horny Edouard, soft sex, gentle sex, sub!bottom reader, dom!top Edouard, OOC (sorry), feminine reader, size kink, rimming, and teratophillia.

FEM/FEM ALIGNED DNI

You had died to one of the vampires living in the chateau and were, of course, thrown into the pile of dead bodies to be turned into a night creature.

☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪

The doors of the machine from hell slowly opened with a loud hiss. Steam enveloped your body as you stepped out from the machine forsaken by (the) god(s).

The steam gradually let up, your silhouette became more and more visible. You had an overall human looking body, with the exception of 2 pairs of arms, 4 eyes, 6 horns all differing in sizes, and rosy pink colored skin that was more on the deep red side than pink yet it was still pink. Your eyes glimmered a bright red, and a pair of white wings sat upon your back. You had long, maroon hair that cascaded down your back. It was silky and straight. Your mouth was filled with sharp, white teeth. Your torso was completely exposed; the only clothes you had on was a white loin cloth that did it’s job.

As you stepped out, you stayed silent. You were confused and unaware of what and where you were. Suddenly words rang in your ears, and you knew that you must obey.

“Guard the cell of the night creature who’s eyes shine like sapphires,” the Abbot commanded.

You growled as a way to signal that you understood.

“Good. Now go,” the Abbot ordered.

☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪

As you approached the cell you were meant to guard, angelic singing pierced your ears.

As a high note was sung, your eyes widened.

“Why am I guarding this cell?” You thought to yourself.

You sat down next to the cell and looked at the night creature who was in it. Your jaw dropped. He was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. His wavy, long hair that was almost as long as yours gently fell down his back and shoulders. Massive wings that resembled a bat emerged from his back. Horns protruded from his face and head. A gold streak on his lips, and gold, sharp, fingernails adorned the two hands that covered his face as if he was hiding himself. His eyes pierced through you. The blue encompassing your vision. You could only focus on those beautiful eyes. Those sweet eyes. Those eyes that glowed.

Edouard had stopped singing a while back, he was now looking at you. You didn’t notice, you were too busy staring at him.

“Hello?” He spoke.

You blushed in embarrassment.

“Ah- sorry.” You managed to choke out.

Embarrassing yourself in front of such a beautiful man/night creature was not on your bucket list.

You sit down, keeping watch and “guarding” his cell but in reality you were just watching him and only looking away when he glanced at you.

You began to get more self conscious, and shy. Your loin cloth suddenly felt like it didn’t cover enough. You wish your long hair was longer to completely enshroud your body so that he wouldn’t see it.

Edouard noticed this and chuckled. You didn’t seem to be like the other night creatures. You still had some humanity left in you. He found it cute that you were so shy. So adorable. So breedable. Wait, what? Did he just think that? Edouard blushed as his own thought, embarrassed by it just as much as you were embarrassed by your little amount of clothing.

“You seem cold, baby.” He played it cool.

“Would you like to join me in my cell?” He smiled sweetly.

Your eyes widened at the offer. How could you decline? You looked around you with haste, scanning for any other night creatures. You then quickly made your way into his cell.

As soon as you entered it, he rushed towards you and held you close. You flinched, surprised by the unexpected display of affection.

"Please forgive me... I can't control myself.." Edouard whispered lustfully in your ear.

Your breath hitched when you felt something hard against your thigh. You looked down. Pure surprise was the only thing you felt.

A large dick about 9 inches long and 2 inches in diameter was up against your thigh. It only made sense the Edouard was so big due to the fact that he was around 7-8 feet tall.

As you looked down at his hard sexual organ, you began to blush. Yearning and want settled in your brain, taking over your senses. Corrupting them.

You shyly gazed back up at Edouard, a heavy blush covering your face. Your eyes glimmered red as you spoke.

“I don’t even know your name, and yet… I long for you.” You uttered, not knowing where the sudden boldness came from.

He pushed you to the stone wall of the cell, still hugging you.

“It’s Edouard.” He seductively whispered in your ear.

Edouard quickly picked you up, so you were the same height as him. You wrapped your legs around his waist for stability. One pair of arms wrapped around his neck, and the other pair was flush against the wall.

He moved his face from the crook of your neck to in front of your face, just inches away.

As he closed the distance between your lips and his, he muttered something.

“So pretty like this.”

You two began to make out intensely. His tongue pushed against yours, creating swirls and spins together. His hands crept up to your chest, his thumb brushing against one of your nipples. His other hand rested on your hip.

As he broke the kiss, you panted heavily. Even in your human life, you had never kissed someone like that before. Your cock was hard, and leaked against the confines of the loincloth.

Edouard took notice of this and chuckled.

“I have a feeling you’re enjoying this.”

You nodded. Your face was painted with a heavy blush. All you wanted was him.

He leaned back in and kissed your neck. His soft kisses trailed down to your chest. One hand played with one nipple, while he sucked on the other. His tongue swirled around the now hardened bud causing your back to arch in pleasure. A bead of precum leaked from your still clothed dick.

“Ahn!~” You moaned.

You had never felt anything like this. The back of your head gently hit the stone wall. Whimpers and gasps spilled from your mouth like hot lava from a volcano.

He retreated his head away from your chest and back up so that he was at eye level to you. He was panting just slightly.

“I’ve never wanted someone this badly.” His hot breath puffed onto your face.

Edouard then put you down so that you were standing.

“Can you turn around and lean against the wall for me, baby?”

You turned around, excited as to what would happen.

When you leaned against the wall, Edouard grasped your hips and pulled them out. He proceeded to undo your loincloth. Your hard cock sprang out, precum dribbling down the shaft.

Edouard kneeled down, still behind you and spread your ass cheeks. Your hole fluttered for him.

“My nails are too sharp to finger you, love. I hope you can enjoy what I’m about to do as a replacement.” He spoke.

Your face turned bright red in embarrassment. The expression of shame was wiped off your face and replaced with one of pleasure.

“Fuck!” You gasped.

His tongue swirled against your hole and occasionally pushed in. He was eating you out like you were a 5 star meal. A soft groan escaped his throat as he thrusted his tongue in and out of your hole.

Loud moans flew out of you and filled the cell, even roaming down the halls to the other night creatures.

Edouard stopped rimming you, and quickly smacked him palm over your mouth.

“Please be quiet, dear. You wouldn’t want to get caught, would you?”

He breathed onto your neck before sinking his fangs into you and biting down, drawing blood.

“Mmphh!~” You screamed against his palm.

Your dick twitched from the intimate pain. Another bead of precum appeared on the tip.

He soothed over the bite with his tongue, lapping up the blood. His arms snaked around your waist, holding you close to him as he continued to lick the bite.

Once he was done, you were trembling mess. You wanted him so badly. Wanted him inside of you.

“Would you like to continue?” Edouard asked, wanting to make sure you still wanted this.

You nodded vigorously, wanting him more than anything.

He turned you around and picked you up so that your pretty chest was flush against his own defined pecs. You wrapped both sets of arms around him and your legs followed suit. He held you with one arm as he guided his large cock to your hole. He slowly sunk you onto it; the delicious burn singed through you. A hiss of pleasure and pain erupted from your plump lips.

“Shhh… It’s okay, baby.. it’ll feel good really soon.” Edouard cooed.

Eventually, he bottomed out. Edouard held you there, feeling your tightness get used to his girth.

Soon enough, you signaled for him to move and he obeyed. He slowly bounced you up and down on his shaft. You let out a soft moan of ecstasy.

As If overcome by something, you gained enough confidence to pull his face into a sloppy and passionate make out session as he continued to fuck you. Your tongues danced while your bodies moved in sync for each other.

He adjusted the angle just a bit, and hit your prostate dead on. Your eyes went wide and mouth fell slack. No noise came out of you. You trembled. He continued to pound into that spot. Your eyes rolled back as you tried to stifle your moans.

“G- gonna cum!” You whisper yelled.

Edouard grunted before responding.

“Me too, my love..”

He sped up, wanting you to feel even better. You cried out in bliss as you came all over his and your abdomen. He still pounded into you after you came, chasing his own release. He placed one hand against the back of your head and brought you towards him for another lustful, heavy kiss. As you kissed, there was a hint of sweetness. Suddenly, a low growl emitted from his throat as he came. He stopped moving you and came inside of you, filling you to the brim. Cum leaked from your hole, even though he was still inside. He slowly pulled out; his cum dripped from your gaping hole, down your thighs and legs.

He still held you close as he sat down with you. He pulled you even closer to him.

“You’re so beautiful.” Edouard smiled happily at you.

He stroked your head lovingly as you fell asleep next to him.

(I didn’t know night creatures could sleep, but they do now.)

“Goodnight, baby.”

SO! That was my first smut fic posted on this account! YIPPEE! It was kinda short, so sorry about that- 😭😭😭

If you have any requests, feel free to ask, I’ll try my best to write them!

ALRIGHT- love you guys! Bye! 🫶🫶🫶

#fanfiction #castlevania edouard #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #male reader smut #castlevania x reader #x male reader #male reader #x bottom male reader #bottom male reader

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 10 months ago

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“Guilty” Little Pleasures

Some of these will have references to my HCs about their family so check out my HCs here! (if you want) (also some of these are not guilty bc there are a few boys that are straight up shameless so...)

HEARTSLAYBUL Riddle - He’s done this since he was a kid. It started off as a tiny rebellion, and he never got caught, so he never stopped doing it. But late at night, if he happens to wake up, he’ll go to the kitchen and just slice a piece of butter to eat Just Like That. When he was younger he would only take what he could get without there being a visible difference, but in a dorm there’s no telling who’s using the butter and when, so taking a bigger chunk isn’t an issue...right? Trey - He’s a brony. He started watching MLP as a joke with his little siblings and then suddenly he was tucking away merch carefully in his room so that they wouldn’t find it. He’s more embarrassed about his family finding out than he is about friends finding out, so if he lets it slip somehow, please let him nerd out. Please. (Trey and Idia don’t interact much but now they have to) Cater - He has a love/hate relationship with catfishing/ghosting people. Not for long, mind you, he doesn’t want to genuinely lead anyone on, but using some photo of a hot model and a few minutes setting up a fake dating profile, he matches with everyone he can. He knows the compliments are meant for the picture of the person he posted, but for just a few minutes, he can pretend they’re for him. Instead of coming clean, he just leaves them on read and never talks to them again. Deuce - We already know how conflicted he is about his favourite food (eggs) so the mild guilt only gets worse when he finds he enjoys both the sound and the feeling of crushing the shells in his hands, especially after hard boiling eggs and parts of the shell are all connected and he can just make them CRUNCH. Ace - He likes to sneak out of his room at night- but not for troublemaking. He likes to go sit with the hedgehogs since they are nocturnal and just chill with them, because when nobody else is around he gets to babytalk them. Cater has caught him Once. (everyone else is below!)

Savanaclaw Leona - Similar to Trey, he watched Bluey with Cheka and Falena once and now he binges it when he needs a good cry, he will NEVER tell anyone he owns the vinyl for it though. Ruggie - Oh man my dude LIVES for starting drama without getting involved. He likes watching from the sidelines. HC that he will get paid by folks around the school to use his signature spell to get petty revenge on someone. It’s never meant to hurt anyone, but kinda just ruin their day. Someone landed the entire class detention with Crewel? Yeah, they might end up stuck standing in a water fountain for a half hour with their homework. Jack - To me, Jack is the youngest in his family (I expand on that in my family HCs ^^) and while he feels a little guilty, he is the #1 offender for licking a knife of peanut butter and putting it back in the jar to continue using it. He’ll do the same for jam and jelly. He drinks straight out of the milk jug. He got caught once by his sister and she made him pay for the jar of peanut butter in hopes he wouldn’t do it again- but it didn’t work. Octavinelle Azul - He spends a lot of money on outfits he wants to wear, but he doesn’t think he ever will, whether it be confidence issues or once he gets it its not what he expected, but its a self punishment to not return it and get his money back so that he can just look at it and think about whether he’ll ever be brave enough to take that first step and just try it on. More often than not, it’s a lot of extravagant dresses that he’s too shy to try on, but he loves shopping for. Jade - He prides himself on his composed personality, though when the mostro lounge closes for the night, when not even Floyd can see him, he likes first watching the lobsters in the tank like a cat, pupils blown up and grinning, ready for his little self indulgent time. When he finally gets bored, he partially reverts into his mer form, plunging his hands into the tank and grabbing one to snack on. He makes sure to write it off to “waste” before Azul can find out. Floyd - Eating things he knows he’s not supposed to. It’s not his fault land items look so yummy, and his teeth need something to sink into, harder than would be tolerated for affectionate bites. Anything with something tough on the outside and soft on the inside or makes a popping noise is the best, like tightly bound leather or bubble wrap or pop cans. Scarabia Kalim - I have a rather dark HC for him here, but if you’re looking for something lighter, he has a really bad habit at picking at his lips. When he does remember to wear chapstick, he usually licks it off because it tastes good... Jamil - TV dinners, man, this poor guy loves to cook, he genuinely does, but sometimes when Kalim makes him cook unexpectedly for 20+ people, he does not want to even eat what he’s made by the time he’s done cleaning up. At least when it’s under those circumstances, he can justify eating microwave dinners, but a lot of time he just has them when he’s straight up EXHAUSTED. Pomefiore Vil - Aw man, his weak spot is pizza. Sometimes he calls to place an order with a voice modulator and picks up his order in disguise just outside of campus and just....destroys two large pizzas a a 1 liter bottle of cola, hiding in a very specific spot in the walls by the gate of campus where there’s a gap just big enough for him to stuff himself into and hide his Gremliness.

Rook - Does this man even feel guilt for things he should feel guilt for? I don’t know. What he does do though, is watch potential couples on campus, and if he thinks they’re going to fall apart before they get together, forges a love letter from one to another. Epel - In case pocket onions weren’t enough, Epel likes sneaking into Vil’s room and trying on his clothes, only to mock him in his mirror. He is meticulous in putting everything back where it’s meant to be, but also shifts everything on Vil’s vanity just slightly to the left to fuck with him a bit. He always leaves through the window, he does not want to be found in the hallway by accident. Ignihyde Idia - He has so many...but his biggest guilty pleasure is doomscrolling Leona’s magicam page bc....Beeg kitty (I don’t ship them, sometimes people are just Nice To Admire) Ortho - (this is sad I’m sorry) he looks through photos of his human counterpart and wonders if he is filling the shoes that have been left for him properly. If he’s developing the way the human Ortho would have. Diasomnia Malleus - Obviously, he enjoys sneaking out, but sometimes when he’s out he just likes to go fishing. He could, catch a fish by hand in seconds, but he enjoys the peaceful quiet and patience the sport requires. He only fishes until he’s caught one worth eating, guts it, then takes care to cook it to perfection using his flames before eating it. Lilia - This man canonically picks his nose in public how tf am I supposed to top that. Silver - When someone other than his dad is cooking/baking something in the oven, like fish, he likes to peel up bits and pieces of the oil/seasoning and just eat it. If there’s the skin of something on there, yeah he’s eating it. Sebek - He has a stuffie collection that hides under his bed, which is part of why he was so enamoured by his stuffie in Harveston. RSA Che’nya - He likes to eat his bananas without peeling them. Just Because. Neige - He will drink shots of ranch. Sorry. Cheka - licks his play-dough. Knows not to eat it. But He Likes The Salt

#v talks #twst #twisted wonderland #twst hcs #twst heartslaybul #twst savanaclaw #twst octavinelle #twst scarabia #twst pomefiore #twst ignihyde #twst diasomnia #twst nrc #twst rsa #twst fluff #twst crack #twst angst #twst fanfic #twst scenarios

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whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx · 3 months ago

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So I’ve seen a couple posts about the DELIGHTFUL possibility of Zestial/Carmilla/Rosie and although it’s not the most realistic ship I’ve ever seen in this show…something about it just makes my brain go

So have some headcanons!

TW: Some mild implied sexual content and mentions of alcohol. It is Hazbin Hotel 🤷‍♀️

- Zestial and Rosie are both enamored with Carmilla’s hair. Rosie is constantly trying to convince her lover to wear her hair down more often, while Carmilla insists she wears it up because Rosie CANNOT resist playing with it (and really, she can’t). Zestial, on the other hand, just likes being allowed to help her brush and style it. He claims he enjoys the intimacy of the act. Rosie argues that he just ALSO enjoys playing with Carmilla’s hair.

Zestial, gently running a brush through Carmilla’s hair: Mine dearest, what, pray tell, befell thee to put thy locks in such a state?

Carmilla, leaning back in his lap with her eyes closed: Rosie.

Zestial, subtly smacking something away with the brush: Ah.

Rosie, who had been sneakily winding a piece around her finger: >:(

- Her impressively long hair is also why Carmilla has banned showering together in her home (“If you want it so badly, you can pay the water bill.”) It already takes her the better part of an hour to wash, condition, and then restyle it without any…distractions.

- Cannibal Town is significantly further away from Zestial and Carmilla’s territories than either are from each other. Rosie keeps a little box of knickknacks stashed in her vanity (handwritten letters from Zestial, a bottle of Carmilla's perfume, and various jewelry that she's stolen from them both) for when she can't make it to see her lovers for too long.

- Carmilla sleeps in the middle when they share a bed. This isn’t necessarily out of preference (in fact, she’s really not a big cuddler and would probably sleep on her own mattress at least some of the time if given the chance) but because both her partners are INCREDIBLY cold bodied and insist on being curled around her much warmer self when they sleep.

- Carmilla is also CONSTANTLY sleep deprived. It’s mostly her own fault (she takes the phrase “working yourself to death” to a whole new level), but every once in a while she suffers from a bout of actual insomnia, which leaves her miserable to be around the next day. Zestial usually gets sent in at that point to convince her to take a break (and a nap), because she’s least likely to snap at him.

- Zestial is partially nocturnal due to his somewhat spidery traits. He still enjoys staying in the same bed as his partners, but spends at least part of the night simply just watching them sleep. Carmilla took awhile to be comfortable with it (though she warmed up to it eventually) but Rosie found it sweet.

- Rosie and Zestial often bond over classic literature, like a weird little two-demon book club. They’ve tried to include Carmilla in it in the past, but she shuts it down every time (she loves them both, she does, but what little she understands she finds either dull, depressing, or both). She will, however, drop by with a cup of tea and a kiss for each before leaving them to their own devices.

- Both Carmilla’s partners have a good relationship with her daughters. However, Zestial is more like to a second parent to them, whereas Rosie is closer to a fun aunt/godmother (which gets her in trouble sometimes)

Clara: Rosie, will you take us downtown tonight?

Rosie: Hmm. What’d your mama say?

Odette: She said no.

Rosie: Then why’re ya asking me?

Clara: Because she’s not the boss of you.

Rosie: Huh. Well-

Zestial, interjecting with a pointed look at Rosie: In fact, I do believe she is. Of us both, dear one.

Rosie: …yeah, that’s probably right.

(Side note- 90% of the time, Carmilla absolutely is the boss of them both. In more ways than one 😉)

- Zestial is the only person Carmilla will let see her cry.

- Both C and Z have some chronic pains from throughout their lives/afterlives (Carmilla gets horrible migraines, while Zestial has some old wounds in his back and shoulders that never healed properly, as well as some joint pain in his wings that flares up when he sleeps on them awkwardly). When it gets too bad, the other will usually take over their work for the day so that they can go to Rosie’s and rest.

- Rosie, for her part, enjoys fussing over her partners a little too much- while Zestial sort of enjoys the attention, it can be a bit much for Carmilla when her head’s already killing her. She can’t stay too mad though, especially when being cradled in Rosie’s arms like that is so soothing and she can tell Rosie left off her usual perfume and hairspray out of consideration to her headache.

- Rosie has a pretty high alcohol tolerance and can usually function fairly well when she’s been drinking. The only exception is when she goes out with Alastor. Carmilla hates these nights because she then has to go and haul them BOTH home.

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inadaydream99 · 1 year ago

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Kiss Me

Stray Kids x reader, very fluffy and some use of cringy pet names

A/N - I have no idea where Jeongin’s one came from, but sometimes I just begin writing and see where it’ll take me… enjoy! 😂

Disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes only and does not represent any of the members in real life. Anything I’ve missed, please let me know!

Chan

“Don’t pretend you don’t want to kiss me.”

It’s been three days since Chan had teased you with those words and you haven’t been able to get it out of your head since. Even without seeing him, he’s still been pestering you. Or rather, the memory has.

It had all started because you’d gotten into some petty bickering between you. It was so trivial you can’t even remember what it was about. All you know is that you’re meant to be mad at him for it. But that stupid last sentence he called after you with hasn’t let you have a moments peace.

“Baby, are you ok?” He picks up after the first ring, the concern laced through his tone making your heart summersault.

“No. It’s 3am and I’m still awake…” you sleepily grumble down the phone.

“Well, go to bed then.” He teases, his tone bright and chirpy from the other side. Of course he’s unaffected by the time, your boyfriend is practically nocturnal.

“But I can’t!” You whine, letting out a soft cry.

Chan’s “why not?” seems instantly more serious. You can just imagine how his lighthearted expression fell off his face when he realised you weren’t playing with him.

“Because I’m supposed to be mad at you and I don’t know why and I just want to sleep but all I can think about is kissing you.”

There’s a few too many seconds of silence after you finish your complaining, to the point where you have to pull your phone away from your ear to make sure the call hasn’t cut off. “Chan?”

“I’m on my way baby.” He sounds like he’s rushing about, hearing a door slam behind him in the process. “Just don’t fall asleep before I get to you ok?”

You feel smug knowing he’s just dropped everything to fulfil your wish of kisses. Yawning again as you drearily mutter an “ok.” to him before the call ends.

Spoiler: you are asleep by the time he gets to you and he can’t bring himself the wake you when you look so snug. He doesn’t know how you manage to look so beautiful even while sleeping. So, instead, Chan cuddles up beside you, gently pulling you into his arms. But not before placing a delicate kiss to your pouted lips.

Minho

There’s a comfort in getting home after a long day to find your best friend Minho already waiting for you. It never fails to put a smile on your face seeing him making himself at home in your place; helping himself to snacks from your cupboards or kicking his feat up on the coffee table as he sinks into your sofa and watches tv. Entering your small apartment to find him already there, waiting for you, can instantly make any bad day so much better. Just like today…

Except, this time you return home to find Minho already fast asleep.

At first you don’t realise he’s not awake, calling out to him from the door as you slip off your shoes and shrug off your jacket. But then you realise his lack of invitation to join him on the sofa, or his offer of snacks that he’d already helped himself to.

Approaching said sofa, you quietly peer over to find him fast asleep. He looks so peaceful with the way his mouth hangs slightly agape, the hood of his hoodie pulled up over his head and his arms folded across his chest in a self hug. Adorable. It’s slightly strange to see him like this, so vulnerable and delicate. There’s not many people Minho feels close enough to to let his guard down around and it warms your heart to know that you are one of them.

Just as you decide to leave him be to go shower, his hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, making you jump out of your skin with a squeak. His amused chuckle fills the room at your response.

“I thought you were asleep.” You pant, your free hand on your chest, still feeling your heart race.

“I was until someone started watching me like a creep.” His smile taunts you. You just roll your eyes, muttering “rude” under your breath as you begin to pull yourself away from his grasp.

“Come cuddle.” His hand squeezes your wrist in resistance, already overpowering your weak attempt to move away from him by guiding you to the front of the sofa.

“But I want to shower.” You pout, caving the second Minho tugs you down into him and wraps his arms around you securely.

“You can shower later.” He mumbles, resting his chin on the top of your head.

Damn Minho and his ability to persuade you. Damn him and his snuggly hoodie… and how safe he makes you feel in his arms…

You lift your head from his chest after a few minutes of silence to see he’s back to resting. With his arms still clutching your body firmly, it’s a little difficult to move, but you are able to free your arms so they rest on the cushions on either side of his torso.

Minho’s grip on you is more lax than you’d initially realised. You notice this as you use your arms to leverage yourself into a half push-up (the rest of your body still laying against his).

There’s something so mesmerising about him as he sleeps. An angelic quality that makes your heart swell. You find your fingers itching to reach out to move the hood away from his face a little so you can cup his cheek. Delicately letting the pads of your fingers smooth over his soft skin.

“Will you just kiss me already.” Your breath hitches when you register his words. Again, you hadn’t realised Minho wasn’t asleep. And, again, you’d been caught admiring him.

Initially, you’re a little unsure if he’s actually just asked you to kiss him or if you’ve just imagined he did. That is until his eyes slightly open to stare you down, wordlessly commanding you to do it.

So you do. Without hesitation you draw your lips into his and let them melt into each other. Crossing a new boundary in your friendship with ease. And you know that neither of you will ever go back.

Changbin

Changbin had been trying his hardest to get you to kiss him. He really had. But all he’s managed to get from you so far is an eye roll as you walk away.

“So you’d really leave me like that.” He plops onto the sofa beside you with a cute pout.

“Like what?” You hold back the amusement wanting to show in favour of raising a brow towards your boyfriend. Maybe you want him to think he’s annoying you because he’s momentarily stealing your attention from the TikTok playing on your phone. Maybe you don’t want to give away how much you really do want to cave in and kiss him.

“(Y/N)~~~” he whines loudly and you can’t help the light laughter that sounds from you upon his emerging tantrum.

“Binnie, I really don’t know what you’re going on about.” You shake your head, lowering your voice to a whisper as you peer around the room, “and people are staring.”

“One kiss and I’ll stop.” His voice continues to reverberate the space around you, making you wince a little. You know he knows your resolve is wearing thinner and thinner with every loud noise he makes. You’ve been together for too long and he knows you too well to not catch on.

“Fine.” You huff. “Come here.” You reach your hand out to pull him closer by his broad shoulder, biting down on your bottom lip upon feeling the toned muscle underneath.

Changbin is silent, simply sending you the smirk he always does when he gets his own way. He’s very pleased with himself right now. You have to fight the eye roll when he puckers his lips at you, the temptation to tease him by shoving him away all too strong.

But the next thing you know, his lips have captured yours, your bottom lip being sucked between his. There’s not an ounce of you that could push him off now. Not with how good his lips feels against yours.

“Why’d you stop?” You complain when Changbin detaches from the kiss, smugly darting his tongue across his bottom lip as he eyes you cockily.

“Cause if you want to kiss me like that then we need to go somewhere less public.”

Hyunjin

You really don’t like your past self right now and if you could turn back time, you’d go back to the week before when you’d let Hyunjin rile you up to the point of your ego getting the better of you and smack yourself in the face.

“Don’t be such a sore loser and kiss me.” Hyunjin taunts, smirking at you in such a way you are unsure if you should be annoyed or turned on.

“Stop being a sore winner and I’ll consider it.” You fire back almost instantly, without filter between your brain and mouth.

Hyunjin chuckles at your retort, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek in amusement. Cocky bitch. He knows that’s one of your weaknesses.

“I wouldn’t test my luck if I were you, Princess.”

You gulp. There goes your sanity.

His tone drips confidence and authority in a way that you’ve never witnessed from your friend before. Sure, you’ve seen this side of him when he’s doing something he loves like dancing. But the power he radiated in those moments and the power he radiates now are polar opposites.

He’s watching you in an almost predatory way, his eyes darkened and narrowed onto your smaller frame. The bet has ended and he wants his prize.

“Hyune- I” you stumble over your words, mouth dry and mind blank as you watch him take a few slow but sure steps closer to you.

“You what,” he raises a brow. “Can’t wait to kiss me?”

There’s no space between you now and you couldn’t run even if you wanted to because you’ve been backed into the wall. Between Hyunjin’s hands holding your hips and his eyes staring deeply, unashamedly into yours, you’re practically paralysed.

Your eyes flutter shut as he leans down, anticipating his lips on yours. That’s why it startles you to feel his warm breath fan your neck, his lips grazing your skin as they trail their way up to the corner of your mouth, leaving a burning in their wake.

“Princess, if I’d known you’d react to me like this I would have kissed you a long time ago.”

Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his whispered words, leaving no time before he finally crashes his lips into yours.

Jisung

It was a few days ago when he’d heard your muffled confession through your bedroom door, where you’d confided to your friend that you were missing your boyfriend because he’d been so busy recently.

It made Jisung’s heart break to know that you felt that way, even if it was completely unintentional. And he hasn’t been able to get it off his mind since. All the guilt troubling him into overthinking and being unable to focus properly. Had he really been neglecting you? Had he really been that bad of a boyfriend?

Of course, he didn’t directly confronted you about it. Instead, he decided to be extra attentive to you. So when he next payed you a visit, Jisung wrapped you in his arms, fully intending on not letting you go. He placed kisses on every inch of your face and doted on you as though you were unable to do anything for yourself.

He’s been super clingy for the past week. Leaving work on time instead of staying late, sleeping at your place, kissing you goodnight and good morning and - all in all - just showering you in so much affection. It feels just like when you first started dating all that time ago, when everything was new and exciting.

“Baby!” Jisung calls out for you, getting you to enter your bedroom to find him already laying on his side of your bed. When you chuckle an amused “what?” at him, he simply opens his arms and makes grabby hands, impatiently begging for you to cuddle. “And a kiss.” He mumbles into your shoulder, only pulling away so you are able to reach his lips.

You give him a few short pecks without hesitation, your free hand smoothing over his cheek as you do so.

“What’s gotten into you recently?” You laugh, voicing the question that’s been circling your mind the last few days when Jisung complains, dissatisfied with your short kisses. “You’ve been so clingy.”

“I just want to remind you how much I love you.” He sulks. “I feel like I’ve not done that enough recently and I never want you to forget that…” he trails off, becoming shy from his own feelings.

Suddenly his recent behaviour make so much more sense. He’s doubting himself as a partner. You find yourself remembering the feelings you expressed to your friend before. Remembering that evening, you realise that is when your boyfriend had started smothering you; he’d heard what you’d said. You couldn’t feel more guilty if you tried.

“I know.” You nuzzle your nose against his, “and I love you more than anything in this world.” You gush.

“I love you too baby.” He whispers back.

Felix

Felix had been acting differently around you recently. At first it was so subtle you hardly noticed. But with every passing day and week, things would begin to add up that just felt… suspicious…

For starters, he’d been a lot more touchy with you. And again, at first you hardly noticed because it’s no secret that Felix loves a cuddle. But what had started as his usual asking for a friendly hug, slowly developed into him pulling you into back hugs without saying a thing, or wrapping his arm over your shoulder, or oh-so causally slipping his hand into yours while walking beside you.

You weren’t sure if Felix was even aware of these new ways of affection being shown towards you. He’d never made any comment about it verbally, nor had anything else in your friendship changed. So, despite it continuing to mentally drive you crazy from all your overthinking, you decided it would be best to not say anything. After all, you really enjoy being closer to him and you’re sure that if you’d ever indicated you didn’t like it, then Felix would stop. He’d never make you feel uncomfortable.

It’s a casual Friday evening when things take even more of a turn however.

After spending the evening surrounded by your group of friends, one by one they’d slipped off to do their own things. It started when Chan excused himself to finish some work on his laptop after dinner. Then Changbin left for the gym. Shortly after was Jeongin, who dragged himself off to bed after nearly falling asleep on the sofa. The rest slowly slipping away for various reasons until only you and Felix remained.

“You not sleepy yet Lix?” You lean into him to whisper, the movie still playing on the tv before you. Even though no one else was around, it still felt wrong to speak at full volume.

“A little…” he trails off, turning to meet your eyes.

You admire the way his sleepy smile reaches his heavy lids. How his cheeks, despite the dim lighting of the room, seem to have a rosy hue to them. His hair is still a little static on top from the boisterous play fight he’d had with Seungmin hours ago, but it looks more fluffy than anything. And his lips…

You’re so engrossed in admiring him that you entirely miss his words, blinking yourself back into the moment with a “huh?”

“Will you kiss me now?”

You find yourself looking from his serious eyes to his lips and back again, trying to decipher if you’d really just heard him correctly. There’s not a single element of joking on his face, and the more his words register, the more you struggle to look anywhere but his soft, plump, kissable lips.

“Are you still with me sweetheart?” He smirks as he leans down to you, one of his fingers sitting under your chin to make you eye level. You’re awestruck by everything about him. Your mind running on overdrive trying to process as much as quickly as you can.

And then it all clicks. He’d been waiting for this moment, slowly warming you up with increasing forms of skin-ship and lingering touches. It has all been intentional.

You’re the first to close off the small space between you, crashing your lips into his with so much force you feel Felix almost fall back. Luckily he’s able to steady himself without breaking away, his hands clutching onto either side of your waist as you pull him in closer by cupping his cheek.

And that’s how you stay for the rest of the night, in each others arms and with enough kisses to make up for an eternity of lost time.

Seungmin

“Just kiss me.” Seungmin deadpans, not impressed in the slightest by you, nor is there any hint of amusement towards your devilish laughter.

You’d been dodging your boyfriends kisses all day, wanting to see how far you could push him before he did something about it. And judging by the way he’s shooting daggers at you, you think he’s almost there.

“Ew gross.” You fake a grimace, stepping further away from Seungmin.

“Ok. That’s it.” He practically growls, striding towards you so quickly you barely have enough time to think of your next move. The time it takes for your brain to register his fast movements and your body to spring into action are only just enough for you to escape his clutches. “Hey! Get back here!”

Seungmin follows your trail of shrieks and giggles as you do your best to rush away. But his place - while far bigger than yours - doesn’t go on forever and eventually you reach a dead end.

“Any last words pumpkin?” He tilts his head at you. You can tell he’s trying to hold back the smile that wants to overtake his stern expression. The corners of his mouth are faltering. “Or do you want to keep disobeying me?”

You have to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from blurting all the sassy comebacks that are daring to slip out. But you know you’re in very dangerous waters. Your boyfriend has closed off so much space he could capture you in his arms and never let you go.

“Puppy…” you swallow your pride, making your voice as timid as you can as you blink innocently up at him. This tactic almost never fails getting you out of trouble…

An adorable smile breaks out across Seungmin’s face, finally dropping his faux-anger in favour of showing the joy it brings him to see you at his mercy like this. Boy does he love it when you act all cute for him because he knows it means you’ve run out of options. Usually he’d melt like putty in your hands. But this time he’s determined to get his long awaited kiss.

“Nu-uh that’s not gonna work this time.”

“But, Pup-” you’re cut off by Seungmin’s lips capturing yours. His hands pull you in by the belt loops on your pants, pressing your body flush against his, while your hands fly to his biceps, clinging onto them for dear life as his lips work their magic, melting your brain.

He pulls away with the most triumphant beam, catching the way you chase after his lips a little. The cutest whine sounds from you in retaliation and upon this, Seungmin shakes his head before leaning in and reconnecting your lips.

Jeongin

“And that’s why you should kiss me.”

You hadn’t even realised the PowerPoint presentation had concluded until the sound of Jeongin loudly clearing his throat brings you back into reality.

Yes, he’d actually made a full-on, detailed presentation to you to showcase all the reasons it would be “the best decision of your life” to kiss him - his words, not yours. And, while it’s not the most conventional way of admitting feelings to his best friend and longtime crush, Jeongin had come across the idea on TikTok and hadn’t been able to get it out of his head since.

You - on the other hand - had been in such disbelief that you’d actually tuned out halfway through because your mind had begun to wonder about what it would actually be like to kiss Jeongin for real. That had then led to imagining him as a boyfriend, how he would be so attentive and affectionate and, just, perfect… not that you hadn’t thought about him like this before.

When more agonisingly slow seconds pass without you saying a single thing, embarrassment and regret hit him like a tsunami.

“…you know, I should probably just-” “No!” Jeongin stops mid sentence upon your sudden outburst. He looks so flushed with embarrassment and adorably confused.

“I need you to kiss me…” You retract your voice back to its normal level, feeling your own nerves fall away when you see the shy smile form on your best friends face. “…please Innie.”

He’s speechless, simply nodding in response before hurriedly making his way over to you.

The kiss is filled with pent up longing. Like you’d both been waiting for this moment without realising the other felt the same until now. It just feels so right to kiss your best friend and to feel him hold you so close.

You pull apart for air after a few seconds, lips ghosting and elated smiles on both of your faces. You let out a little chuckle as your foreheads rest together, Jeongin’s hands lacing your fingers with his on either side of you.

“Your PowerPoint was right. It is the best decision of my life.”

#stray kids fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids oneshots #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz oneshots #skz scenarios #skz #skz fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader

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mysteryanimator · 9 days ago

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Breaking down Castlevania Nocturne Season 01 - Episode 06 "Gulity Men to be Judged" Olrox and Mizrak scenes (almost) shot by shot!

With episode 08's breakdown (which you can read here), I'm deciding to tackle episode 06! I'm glad people enjoyed my last breakdown as much as I did writing it! While I will try to be as in-depth as the last, I will try to keep it concise because there is a lot I want to cover with a 30-image limit AND I am not just covering the "I'm not in love with you" scene. I will be covering their other scenes in this episode because I cannot understate how extremely important specific shots are.

To preface this again, this is not the end-all-be-all for these scenes. This is just me making observations based on my media analysis and production studies and a deep passion for visual storytelling/storyboarding. I also consider myself an amateur, so please take what you will from this. My terminology may flip flop, and I will be super casual and informal in this analysis. However, I hope I still get my points across well!

Scenes will not just be "the curtain is blue because it is." Heavy moments with character interaction are important. They have very little time to go over this scene, they have a budget, they have a deadline, so every choice matters and it needs to push out a very specific message.

What is this? A close-up to start off this new scene?

I've talked before about how establishing shots are used to establish a new scene, which often than not is a big expansive shot of the area and of the characters/plot we're following. This still does that. In fact, this shot alone is giving us massive clues to what type of story we're getting. We're getting a much more closed-off private conversation that we shouldn't be privy to. We're getting a view of Macheoul from Olrox's inn, as if we're pulling away from the bustle of life just for a moment.

I'm going to be talking a lot about windows so let me set up the foundations to start us off. Symbolically, windows are important to get a deeper view into a person. Freedom, transparency in conversation, openness, and connection.

We're also getting a close-up of Mizrak and his eyes are cut off. Eyes are another symbolic way to showcase connection and openness but we're not seeing that. Intentionally. Contrasting things are happening. This is already alerting us that this is going to be a tense private scene where things are being bared out for us but things are still going to be closed off from being shared. Also a-ha that curtain being pulled off to the side, which previously it wasn't in episode 04. It is as if we're unveiling a bit more about these characters.

Now we get this long shot.

Hey, so fun fact, you know in the fan-animatic (which you can watch here I'm sorry for the self-plug lol, I was also writing this analysis when making that animatic), I had put in an absurd amount of divider/window themes it might've gotten really over the top (whoops). I was directly referencing those themes from this. Naturally, this inn room references 1750s architecture and how there is a lot of vertical and horizontal detailing, however, I will be excessively pointing them out in this breakdown, so let me also lay the foundations of how important these vertical lines are as well.

In a scene, you can make characters feel at a distance, divided and such not only by using physical distance between other characters and objects but implying it by having vertical lines between them. It can create invisible walls and borders, separating a character from the situation at hand.

Even when characters are really close to each other, putting a vertical line between them in the background can make all the difference. Example, you can a close distance physically, but they cannot connect on a deeper level because there's a metaphorical border by putting a vertical line between them in the background.

These borders pop up a lot in previous episodes surrounding Mizrak and Olrox. The only time it doesn't is in episode 08, where they're out in the open and Olrox unveils something he has guarded up until that point.

The gap between them for most of this scene is HUGE. This has to be established from the get-go to help build upon later scenes where the gap gets closed.

Olrox and Mizrak are both presenting closed-off poses. Mizrak is fully faced away, arms crossed, while Olrox has his leg crossed over himself as he reads, also not in any form facing Mizrak.

By the way, I want to point out, Olrox has the book the Abott uses to turn people into night creatures, he's reading it in Mizrak's presence. Olrox STOLE the book and presumably, Mizrak has seen it being used. Which, this whole scene gets alluded to in episode 4 around the time Olrox passes Mizrak the head. They both were planning to conspire together or at the very least, feed each other information from their side. They're both reluctant players of their team, seeing flaws in the plans of their 'leaders' as much as they do in their enemies. So without overstepping a line, Olrox and Mizrak forge a temporary alliance, which that line gets blurred by simple human emotions.

Close upppp

Oh my god guys he said the episode title !!! I think this goes without saying that each episode title is a line said from a character in the show, and that it is super important

We're still noticing this MASSIVE GAP between Olrox and Mizrak. Also, check that divide there. The vertical divides that are happening are the wooden wall detailing, the candle, more notably the window, that vertical line the biggest/important divide in the scene once again.

Mizrak is shoved into the corner of the screen, he's not important right now so he doesn't take up too much of a focus and, therefore is smaller. Which also means when Olrox follows up with the line "he's threatening you", there's less weight to the line because it's not the main focus, it's a joke. There's no real threat.

Which establishes another thing- their dynamic. In episode 03, Mizrak scoffs and chuckles "and you expect me to believe you care, vampire?" By Olrox chuckling out "he's threatening you" it shows us that this dynamic is reciprocated. They both make jabs at each other, which they know won't actually hurt them. This also means they know how to jab at each other and make it hurt. Foreshadowinggggg~

From here on out, Olrox gets a lot of close up shots, that are framed to JUST focus up on his face (and hand but I will talk about that later).

I'm going to end up skipping a few of Olrox's close up shots in this analysis because I'll end up repeating the same thing, but this is important. We need to see Olrox emote up close because he doesn't ever emote in a very 'animated' lively way. Compare how Richter/Annette/The Abbott and so many other characters emote, their hair and body drag with their face. Olrox does that super rarely because he controls himself. So here, when we get a sliver of his emotions, we're getting up close and personal with him.

Mid....shot? I'm going to be less picky about my terminology because what's important here is the message being conveyed to the audience.

Mizrak turns away from the window (not fully yet) to face him. I need to point out- that Mizrak is super pushed off to the side of the screen, but then his reflection is crossing over that divide.

So as mentioned, having a vertical line is intended to make the characters feel separated from each other. Having a character cross the border can mean they want to overcome the metaphorical walls that are being set up. For better or for worse, it depends of on the character's motives and the context of each respective shot.

Mizrak is passing through a divide to get insight into Olrox. The curtain, again, pushed and tied off to the side. A window. A view into the past. Which I need to make clear, only Mizrak's reflection crosses over the boundary, as if to let his inner self connect to Olrox. While physically, Mizrak keeps himself guarded in case.

By the way, Olrox is fully in his own box. A frame inside a frame if you will. This helps draw attention to a character BUT also fully isolates them. Mizrak, by this question, is calling out Olrox. It's an isolated incident solely caused by Olrox.

Olrox indulges him in this conversation, but he's not fully facing him. He periodically does, but never fully.

I want to point out, that we have gotten Olrox from a front view, and now we're getting a 3/4 view. The next will be a side profile of him, as if he's turning inwards.

By the way, horizontal lines can act to lead someone in a direction. Because this is a western show made for a western audience, most of the audience will read left to right. So naturally our eyes will start left of the screen and move right (unless there's a major focus placed else where). This also just helps in general to move from shot to shot as it will imply for us where to look next, for the upcoming shot. This is also indicated by the massive empty space on the right of Olrox.

So this shot. His eyes are purposefully covered up and Mizrak turns around. Also it looks very similar to the third shot of this whole entire scene but with those key differences I mentioned. It's to alert to us the tone of the section has shifted.

Right now, Olrox is beginning to open up about a vulnerable personal matter from his past, but we can't see him emote—not yet anyway. He will choose and decide when to invite us into his emotions. We see Mizrak reacting to him though. Still giving him that space, but he's now engaged into Olrox's conversation.

Ok skipping a shot forward, but this close-up of him closing the book is basically telling us his mission to dig further into the Abbott's plans is unimportant now. As is closing off the current story he's reading to tell Mizrak a story of his past.

Also followed by the line "He was proud to be Mohcian, with roots deep in the land and forest" as he balls his hand into a fist against the book.

Hands are a superrrr common thing to use for symbolic purposes. It can represent connection. Humanity. Strength. Many more than this list, but a lot of human symbolism and motifs tie down a lot to what Olrox's previous lover is like- along with what Mizrak is like.

Pspspspsps in episode 3, Mizrak's introduction is with his hands, might be a stretch though because that intro is also cross-symbolic. Regardless I thought it was important to at least flag

CLOSE UP SIDE VIEW.

This cut from his hand to his face honestly makes it so gut-wrenching because you're suddenly slapped with Olrox emoting. Olrox's side profile here is acting here that he cant fully face his past, he can't fully face Mizrak as he talks about his past love. Sure he will here and there look over to him, but he can't hold it.

Also, this is what Mizrak would be seeing. While yes, a close up shot so its not entirely a one for one POV shot, we can argue Mizrak is only focused on Olrox's face. We as an audience are forced to be focused on Olrox's face and his face only because of this camera shot. Who is not to say Mizrak is also a part of the audience. Especially since the next shot is of Mizrak looking at Olrox.

Mid shottttt

So cutaway shots like this can help with things like avoiding to keep animating Olrox talking/moving because that will eat up your deadlines, budgets, etc (I think, I can be wrong). This also gives us insight into Mizrak because we haven't seen him for a few shots and oh my god, Mizrak is emoting too.

Right now, Mizrak is pulled away from the window divide. He's giving him the space to talk. Divides are not always bad, again it depends on the context of the shot and what you want to portray.

Also, we're seeing Macheoul behind him. People get to walk freely, poor and rich, sinners and saints and all the people who sit in the middle of those divides. Until Ezerbet's plan becomes finalized. There are a lot of colonization themes in this show and this show is about fighting for freedom. In order to show what freedom is like, the privilege to have it, we must acknowledge the opposite.

We're doing it through Annette AND Olrox.

Mid shot again, featuring Olrox instead.

Now this is supposed to be a mirrored version Mizrak's shot because now Olrox is turned towards Mizrak here as well.

Mizrak mirrors the traits of Olrox's previous lover.

As Olrox talks about his previous lover, we as an audience begin to notice how Olrox's previous lover matches the themes of the show. Revolution. Fight for freedom. This also foreshadows that Mizrak will end up fighting with the revolutionaries, Annette, Maria, Richter.

Skipping one of Olrox's close ups to where Mizrak begins to prod at Olrox's story. He is a little bit too invested in Olrox's life.

MIZRAK CROSSES OVER THE BOUNDARY. THAT DIVIDE. The window divide that keeps them in their separate boxes, he's crossing it over to call him out. He leans forward, then leans back as if to prod him and then go back into his safe zone. His box.

This close-up cut is in between Olrox and Mizrak talking. It's supposed to completely throw us off because its so sudden because we're not expecting this AT ALL. Sure we know Olrox would get riled by this comment, but it's so fast its a literal blur, and this shot doesn't last that long either.

He's also choosing to run. Which in a way, make its slightly more terrifying. He has the ability to float, and (please correct me if I'm wrong) would be cheaper/faster for him to just float really fast. So the choice for him to use his feet to get to Mizrak is a conscious choice.

Which I won't lie, it brings me to this line.

"She said to me, if you would love me as a man, then live as a man, Travel as a man."

Said none other than Dracula himself in the first episode of the first Castlevania series. Olrox has a lot of times where he just chooses to walk/run, "travel as men do. Slowly." In turn, he's way more human still, despite his supernatural speed. There are also just a lot of parallels between Dracula and Olrox but I digress. It's pulling away from my analysis, but I thought it was a very important thing to note.

This is a low-angle shot. This shot is TENSE. Low angled shots are to make the character's seem powerful, larger then life because it puts the camera, in turn the audience, beneath what we're watching. At a lower place.

I'm here yet again to point out the divide. Mizrak even leans AWAY from the divide, as if to go back into his box. Olrox taunts the divide when he leans over. Not yet crossing it.

Until.

This close-up shot is so diabolical and it's so masterful.

Which, let's get this out of the way- It looks like they're about to kiss because they're that close to each other. We know they won't not, but it's the tension and the conversation we're having now just adds to it. We as an audience are now wondering what Olrox has planned for Mizrak because why is he that close? It is also not harmful bait either because we have them both naked in bed with each other prior. This is a set up for something bigger for season 2. (Or season 3... season 4... guys please stream Nocturne so we can get more seasons.)

Mizrak is pushed into his little box as Olrox stands over that divide and has an overwhelming huge visual weight over this scene. Mizrak, despite having very little of the screen, and being cornered by Olrox, is being very bold and questioning Olrox and his plans.

There are other ways to have someone feel like they have power over a scene besides a low-angle shot For instance, you can have them take an overwhelming amount of the screen so they feel big and powerful. To make someone appear weaker, you make them smaller in the scene (in other cases it'll make a character feel unimportant, like much earlier for that long shot, however in this case it is not). Right now, Olrox is trying to overwhelm Mizrak. This shot is suffocating, there is very little space between these two characters AND the visual breathing space for the eye to rest is almost nonexistent because Olrox takes up so much space. He's trying to read him and pull out his insecurities at this very moment. It won't work though. Olrox knows a lot about Mizrak. He has analyzed this man back and front, inside and out (I mean that metaphorically, but sure, you can take it literally too) but this is an impulse reaction, much like how Mizrak in episode 03 had an impulse reaction to pin Olrox to the wall.

Olrox feels threatened.

We don't know step by step what lead to the death of his lover, what drove Julia killing to him, but Olrox has opened up and Mizrak immediately begins prodding at his life the moment he mentions Julia killed his past love. How dare Mizrak tell him the person he would do anything for, that his death, was his fault. How dare Mizrak say Olrox would turn him. How dare Mizrak presume he loves him.

How dare Mizrak overstep the invisible boundary they've established.

Olrox moves off that divide back into his box.

BTW, side tangent:

I don't know if this was intentionally done but Mizrak's angle is really similar here, the key difference being his eyes and being shuffled into the corner more. Also, Olrox is there LMAO, but his eyes are cut off. It's like, in one truth being revealed, another one is being hidden. This is the very first shot of Mizrak we see in this section versus the very last time we see Mizrak in this section. Though this I'm a bit unsure about so I won't delve further than that.

Ok, tangent out of the way, the last shot for this scene!

This feels like a POV shot from Mizrak.

Front facing. Dead center. No fanfare at all. Blunt. Straight to the point. There's no hiding the truth. He is the subject of main focus.

Olrox is not lying, but it's not the full truth either, which is alluded to the fact the shot gives off the impression that it is symmetrical but it's not. Visually, the weight is so much heavier to the right, purely because of the bed, more of Olrox's face is exposed and the lights. The other side of Olrox is in the shadow and his hair covers up his eyes and parts of his body.

I'll split the shots into two without annotations just so you can see what I mean. Having this shot be split down the middle is wild because they feel soooo different from each other.

This one line is SO NUNANCED, there are so many layers to this (like an onion). So as we get a statement from Olrox saying he isn't in love with him. There is more then meets the eye, much like this shot. The front Olrox puts on.

Love is a very complex emotion, as is all emotions.

Regardless of love, the ending shot of this interaction is supposed to hit us like a brick wall. It forces us to face directly what Olrox is saying and we (including Mizrak) cannot turn away from what he has displayed. It feels heavy as Olrox's glowing eyes bore into us.

The scene concludes, and Lacrimosa, the song Edouard sings throughout the entire section, ends. I don't talk about music because I'm not well versed in that area, but I've gathered that Lacrimosa is a hymn sung in catholic masses. Lacrimosa literally means to weep. It's about mourning. I've seen it here and there about the Virgin Mary/Lady of Sorrows, things about mourning over sinners preparing to be judged for eternity.

We enter a scene, where Olrox mourns a lover, followed by Mizrak judging Olrox for what he did to preserve that love. His sin, his guilt.

Before we get into their later conversation, Mizrak and Olrox's reaction to the arrival of Ezerbet says a lot so I'll quickly touch on that.

Wow this mid shot honestly says a lot about the characters, how they pose and how they hold themselves, AND why they're even conspiring with each other in the first place. It's literally just for a second, its a still image except for the petals. You can recognise how, despite their very tense relationship with each other, they both share their disdain for Ezerbet's plan. No matter their differences. No matter the argument they had before.

Omg Myst what does this window divide mean? I hear no one asking, well, its almost like Mizrak is finally confronted with the vampire world, confronted that the vampire messiah is here, crossing over to look at what's happening. Crossing over to look into Olrox's world.

NOW, let's dive into their later encounter!

We're establishing a new scene, so this is our establishing shot. Looking onto the streets of Macheoul celebrating their Messiah, while we pull back into the private thoughts of Mizrak and Olrox once again. They're also back in their respective boxes, as you can see through the window's dividers.

We will never get to know what happened between the "I'm not in love with you" and this present moment, but they know to go back to their respective places, there's a much more pressing matter.

THIS SHOT IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME FOR A PARTICULAR CALL BACK.

I'm calling this out, it's a reference to episode 04.

When they're both behind their respective partners, they look at them so forlornly, while the other recounts the horrors of their lives LOOKING DOWN. They're both also put at the same heights. Like Olrox is really tall, but for the sake of having these scenes parallel, he's sitting.

Also, the way Mizrak's head turns to look at Olrox in episode 06 gives me unbelievable psyche damage because he's looking at him so gently and Olrox never gets to see and it makes me ache so bad. I love animation y'all.

A massive theme of these two looking at each other from behind with such worry and pain, like episode 08. It will probably appear again in later seasons because it happens A LOT with these characters, so this won't be the last time.

Here we have a high angle close up shot! God this expression he makes breaks me.

While not as extreme as other examples in episode 04 or episode 08, its still a high angle regardless. This high-angle shot looks DOWN onto Olrox and makes him appear more vulnerable, to feel powerless. Couple that fact he pushed further to the side of the screen, taking up the same amount of space on the screen as the literal bed. He talks gently, but talks about the horrific events he's witnessed in the past. He's sidestepping for now. The argument they had, that doesn't matter now.

What matters is that he's going to basically relive it again if nothing is done about Ezerbet. People will die for the sake of power, for the sake of amassing a paradise that only cultivates for their personal needs.

Olrox's eyes poke through without the 'glow'. It just pops against the dark interior of the room. This allows for us, the viewer to be drawn to his eyes. How distraught he feels.

Did you accidentally miss that shot of him where he looks forlorn at Olrox, BAM, you're getting a close-up of it. (Also another cutaway to into not animating Olrox talking.)

Also, the line that they cut to going "They said were they doing it for their god." GOES TO MIZRAK. They could've cut to any line but they chose this line. Mizrak has been convincing himself for this entire season he's doing this for God, horrors and sins committed. It was for God. There's a difference between the Abbott's and Mizrak's justifications to do these things, the Abbott's more plainly put out and explored in season 01, which I won't explore here because then this analysis will get too long (and I haven't fully analyzed him yet so I could be wrong) but the Abbott fears what he has built is being torn apart and will sacrifice others to keep his position.

Mizrak. He has nowhere else to go. The world has abandoned him and God has saved him from whatever trial and tribulation he's gone through. Therefore he will do the same for others, as God has done for him.

The people in charge of this scene knew it was important for us to see Mizrak's reaction here. We need to see a more gentle version of Mizrak because prior, Mizrak had just been a very closed-off yet fiery stubborn man, who would literally growl at the people who he saw as a threat and would continue to do so. Not that long ago we saw him tearing into Olrox, indirectly telling him it was his fault that his lover died.

Yet now.

He's listening. He's here. He understands.

Which by the way, Mizrak always constantly has this very specific eye highlights in his eye, which (in my personal opinion) makes me drawn to looking at his eyes first whenever his face is shown on screen. This a very good example of being drawn to his eyes first because, amidst the darkness of the interior, you're drawn to his eyes. Then you notice how softly, how concerned he looks. Which is the main premise of this very specific shot. Mizrak, despite being guarded, can be gentle.

This close up shot allows us to transition to the next scene, cutting off Olrox's eyes in the reflection as we look out into the streets of Macheoul. We're now being pulled away from their private conversation, as we will now not be allowed to hear whatever Olrox will undoubtedly tell Mizrak and Mizrak to Olrox.

We now close off episode 06's breakdown!

I am honestly such a sucker for the division lines in a composition to portray distance even when people are close to each other. I am also a massive sucker for call backs and parallels, I literally cannot get enough of them. Like a WHOLE mood will shift completely if you shift character and camera placements.

Hopefully, my own opinions on the matter didn't sway you too much, so I'm hoping this implores you to rewatch Castlevania Nocturne! Look out for those key details not only in Mizrak and Olrox, but in a lot of characters in the show as well! Each character within a shot is framed in very particular ways for a reason. So we must wonder why and question it. I also hope this gives you a deeper appreciation for the work that goes into shows like these!

Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading as I did writing this!

#mystery talks #castlevania nocturne #castlevania #olrox #mizrak #olrox/mizrak #uhhhh insane hours here #long post #i actually ended up cutting a few shots from this LOL #rambles

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

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Let me try this again-

Can we have some more facts about Evan? Maybe about what a normal day is with him and monster reader? I just found him a few days ago and he's one of my new favorites of this blog ♡

For those who don't know, Evan is the Yan husband from this fic to which is married to a monster darling that dissolves and devours living things by use of the mouth in their neck-

A normal day for Evan and his lovely spouse starts around 6am. He leaves for work around eight, and just can't start his day without a little domestic bliss with the love of his life. Monster Darling is a bit grouchy as they are primarily nocturnal, but the lure of food usually gets them out of bed. Eating with them is one of his favorite things. It's so cute to see them attempt to eat like a regular human when he's reminded them time and time again it's okay to be their true self and put down the spoon. If they don't make a request, it's oatmeal most mornings for Reader. Eases the struggle of breaking down solid foods and a good source of protein. Evan mixes a tablespoon worth of his blood into the meal so their stomach can handle it better. He always lets them lick his bleeding cuts and re-bandage the wounds with cute little bandaids he picked up from the store which is the highlight of every morning.

Once he's off to work, Reader spends most of their day sleeping or picking up the few things Evan allows them to clean. He knows how much they need their rest, and does most of the house cleaning when he returns home or on weekends. The most he asks them to do is grab something things from the store for dinner. He takes frequent bathroom breaks to spy on them from the cameras around the house and practically sprints from his chair during lunch to eat with them over video call in a private area. Someone might think he hasn't seen them in six years rather the six hours it had actually been. Evan is a careful man, but he can't help but gush about his lover to coworkers who ask what's got him grinning like a fool.

Evan returns home around 9pm on most days. He tries to time it so Reader is fully awake and aware enough to reciprocate the kisses and hugs he smothers them with once he walks through the door. The couple eat dinner together, chatting about their days, and later venture off to the living room to watch something before bed or out to the budding garden Evan planted for them whenever they need a quick snack. He always makes a pit stop at the local flower shops before arriving with the juiciest roses he could find, but Reader mentions something about liking the taste of his more and his heart just melts-

They finally head upstairs to snuggle in bed when Reader warns him about staying up too late, and repeat the same routine tomorrow. Evan hates when they pretend to be something they're not, but Reader faking sleep to make sure he gets his rests helps him sleep like a baby

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #Evan my oc #soft yandere

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y-rhywbeth2 · 7 months ago

Text

Some (in-game) people are going to be very disappointed in the Chosen of Bhaal ending:

Lord Enver Gortash: "Together we rule Faerûn as kings. No, more than kings - gods. We rule as the Absolute."

Nightwarden Minthara: "We believed we were all victims of the cult of the Absolute, but now we learn that one of us was an architect of this grand religious hoax. You helped to create this conspiracy. That means you may be the best person to help us control it, and the key to our victory."

Astarion: "You're going to sit nicely in my lap - perhaps naked - as I give orders to our nocturnal horde from my palace throne. Bhaal's army will be an unsurpassable dowry. I cannot wait for you to claim it."

Extra special shout out to Minthara, who wants a divorce if you reject Bhaal and the power he's offering. She's so fucking deluded, I love her.

Hang on guys, let me ask Daddy Dearest what he thinks about us (that is to say, me and him) sharing power with you. Considering that I just surrendered all say about the course of my life, and defiance will result in him immediately stripping me of all free will and reducing me to a feral wreck, so it's entirely up to him:

*When you level the world over, that dead world must be yours alone.*

Sceleritas Fel: "Of course [you can keep your lover], Master! We will always need to sire more Bhaalspawn! Although if they are not up to the task we may need to find you a breeding-mate. Or ten. Hopefully the near-slaughter of your partner taught them the wisdom of obeying your every command."

And interesting that Astarion talks about a dowry considering that the dialogue files describe the union of Bhaal and Durge as the "BloodWedding", and also your love interest is a "false bride".

Sceleritas Fel: "You and the Urge are wedded, now. One body, one mind."

Narrator: *Your darling would never agree to breed a spawn with you... The defiance begets death.*

Plus the stuff from BG2 where you should abandon all your companions and embrace Bhaal, and none of your mortal life matters...

Sorry guys, Dad says that I'm only to be committed to him as his self-insert and possibly worse, and that if you don't want to die then you have to be our obedient slaves and the surrogates for our murder children (alternatively referred to as "your" and "his" offspring in the narration). You have tadpoles in your brain, and we can seize control of them at any time: you have no say in this.

This is not going to end well for any of the overly ambitious villains involved in the alliance... Especially the ones who think they're the dominant half of this deal.

(I do love the horror of a good trainwreck narrative.)

I also find it fascinating that on some levels, the Chosen and Feral endings are much the same.

Durge: "My Urges are gone from me, as is any trace of Bhaal." Lord Enver Gortash: "I'm surprised Bhaal allowed you to slip away from his grasp. But this changes nothing. With me, you will have power greater than Bhaal could have given you, and you will bow to no master."

I like to think this translates to: "OH THANK FUCK."

#They have tadpoles in their brain: Durge controls the Netherbrain: This is going to go TERRIFICALLY #For Bhaal #and absolutely nobody else #And realistically I expect the other (higher levelled) Chosen and Gods in Faerûn will take Durge down within a few months tbh #Or at least keep them in check #So Bhaal will also lose eventually #babbling #/durge #edgelord hours

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devilfic · 5 months ago

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Prob, wayyyy too damn specific but I saw posts of Matt and I just rewatched The Batman (2022) and like I had this prompt of:

Reader is pushed away by Matt and decides to not fall with more vigilantes but runs in with Bruce and marries him? Maybe and it becomes some love triangle plot or idk

Idk what you could do with this, pls feel free to ignore it or modify. It’s just a weird ass crossovers of my two husbands.

at first I meant to humor you a bit with my thoughts on bruce and matt as very similar lovers but then it just turned into a throuple. walk with me:

it’s funny because matt and bruce have very similar self-destructive behaviors when it comes to relationships, but I think bruce is a bit more indulgent (whether he’d admit to that or not is another story entirely).

where matt is clearly insecure about if he can protect you—certainly he will fight until his last dying breath to do so but would rather you never be in danger to begin with—bruce is (and I'm especially thinking of an older, more experienced bruce), I think, unwilling to let you know that he’s just as insecure. mainly because failure cannot be an option. bruce also has much more at his disposal to protect you (cough cough money cough) and has backup plans for days. at this point in time, bruce would be more willing to let others in and have a healthier (?) way of maintaining relationships.

matt is, to the best of his ability, an ordinary man who strikes suddenly, sometimes recklessly, and thinks better within the throes of action. matt strikes me as someone who carries too many burdens to ever think a relationship with a civillian would work. he is a martyr like bruce, but I think where matt is in daredevil and where bruce is in my mind (years later, a little less cynical) are different enough to make them stand out.

that being said, I think matt would be hella suspicious of bruce because let’s be honest…. everything about him is a red flag LMAO. I can imagine matt playing mind games with bruce if they ever met, perhaps matt is representing a client who is suing wayne enterprises and oh, look, there’s you and bruce all cuddled up in the courtroom. matt listens for bruce’s heartbeat whenever he asks a particularly pointed question about his life but bruce has trained his heartbeat to be steady, his reactions natural. he gets one past matt.

and you think this man has some NERVE interrogating your new boyfriend when he’s the one who put you out. you almost let him have a piece of your mind but think better of it.

matt wonders if you like being bruce wayne’s. are you even able to still be you? the you that he truly knows?

needless to say, if they cross each other in cowls, matt will know it’s him instantly. I think it would sting matt to know that not only had you moved on to a man of much higher class, you’d also moved onto another nocturnal vigilante. one who, apparently, had no hangups about having you.

bruce also isn’t stupid. he’d done his research into the masked vigilante running around the neighboring borough of hell’s kitchen. it wasn’t apparent to him when he’d first met matt, but a little stalking research down the line and he’d put it together. they don’t reveal this to each other at first.

but later that night, bruce is holding you and wondering… is that your type? if it was by the simple hilarity of the universe that you ended up falling for him, right after leaving a man not too different from himself.

anon, I have a feeling that when you said love triangle, you really meant a love v as in bruce likes reader, matt likes reader, and reader likes both. but if I may talk my shit, I think these two might have a lot to like about each other. two vigilantes who operate by night and shadow, who have similar dedications to justice (matt’s being the idea of righteous and fair law, bruce’s being protecting the weak and innocent and rehabilitating or stopping the corrupt), two men leading double lives, two men as equally charming, and two men in love with you. bruce and matt find it hard not to see what you like in the other.

bruce befriends him. it’s kind of an accident the way he finds a kindred spirit in him, and at first it’s purely to keep an eye on this guy, perhaps to put together a contingency plan just in case. he starts sending nelson, murdock, and page cases in gotham that could use their legal advice, sending business partners and citizens alike to their door for referrals. matt isn’t sure what to do when they start getting a wave of new clients, all suspiciously right up their alley, but foggy and karen don’t mind the extra cash flow and matt struggles to find a way to not be okay with helping those in need.

matt returns the favor and starts training bruce on how to hone his other senses in combat. the two of them will spar for hours, only stopping if alfred were to come yank them apart or, god forbid, you come home early to find your boyfriend pinning your ex to the mat.

and you’re both horrified and fascinated to find that they get along really well. but you can’t just let matt back into your life after he’d all but slammed the door in your face. he’d given up on you. now he was weaseling his way back into your life with bruce—a happy life, might I add, although no less stressful—hanging around you like a dark shadow.

bruce isn’t sure how to feel about it either. he knows how much you loved matt, how much you still love matt, and he can tell matt is not over you no matter how much he waxes poetic about the greater good and why you two couldn’t really work out. bruce gets it, worries that maybe he should get it more and cut you loose too before something happens to you. it had always been their worry: that while they were off protecting the city, there’d be no one there to watch over you. and there was no one there to watch over you. once upon a time.

there is no organized discussion about it. bruce is less hung up about it than matt. it does feel odd, imagining him around you and it being… normal. inviting matt over for dinner with your permission, and sharing wine and heavy goodbyes as bruce pays a taxi to see him home safe. he considers the way you squirm at the table, trying to keep it friendly between you and matt but there is that ache in your chest that remembers this man differently. it feels disrespectful and rude to be friends with him now, having him around gotham. eventually bruce asks you as you wind down for the night, his rings clattering onto the dresser tray as you pull back the sheets, “you love him still.” well, he doesn’t ask.

you freeze, halfway into the sheets, unsure if you’d even heard him right, “I’m sorry?”

“matthew,” he casts a glance over his shoulder, “it didn’t really end between you. not on your end.”

“if you’re trying to accuse me of something-“

“I’m not. I can see it on you.” but bruce’s voice isn’t angry or mocking or blaming. it’s… oddly resolute. thoughtful, even. “I like him.”

“I… what are you saying, bruce?”

he crawls under the sheets, nonchalant, but he finds himself just a little (just a little) unsure. “I’m saying that… maybe the reason why he pushed you away isn’t a problem anymore,” he stares ahead, focused on the fireplace that burns low, “if you wanted him still. I wouldn’t mind it. I wouldn’t mind him.”

you almost can’t believe your ears. “and you like him.”

bruce takes a minute to shrug, as if he needed to roll it around in his mind one more time.

“do you… want us to be together? all of us?” you watch the reflection of the fire in his eyes, waiting with bated breath.

he turns his head to you, “if we can get the usher boy to agree.”

you have to have a long, long talk with matt. there’s tears and a little anger and a whole lot of uncertainty as you talk out your tumultuous parting but then, as matt’s guilt starts slipping in and he says he’ll stay out of gotham so that he doesn’t cause you more pain, you blurt it out. matt isn’t sure he’s heard you right. you have to repeat yourself, a bit more eloquently, “I said… do you want to be with me and bruce?”

he doesn’t immediately say yes. in fact, he takes a day or two to himself to think about it. he’s staunchly sure in the beginning that he will turn you down but the words do not form, the hesitance keeps him from calling. when he gets advice from foggy (who is twice as bewildered but all too excited by the prospect) about how to say he’s not interested, he writes it down and it just. doesn’t feel right. he finds himself rearranging the words in his mind to be softer, more… flexible. less “hard and fast no” and more “I just don’t know”. the more he thinks about it the less inclined he is to even SAY the word no. is it because it’d really, finally cut you out of his life? would he only be saying yes to have you again?

bruce would be there too, that’s the key thing. maybe it could start out as just him being with you and bruce being with you at the same time, but maybe that was too weird for him to think about. sharing you with someone else. he wouldn’t want to. but what would the alternative be?

he calls bruce to meet in hell’s kitchen where he feels safer. bruce is calm, not imposing in the least. he lets matt rant it all out and get his feelings in check. when he’s blown off all the steam, bruce just says, “if it comes down to it, there’ll be no hard feelings if it ends.”

“this is crazy.”

“you can say no.”

“yeah. I know.”

some time passes. bruce comes to stand beside matt sitting on the ledge of the rooftop, keeping his heavy gaze fixed on him. “they still love you.”

“I know.”

the two of them say nothing for a while. matt tries to focus on the city, as loud as it always is, but keeps zeroing in on the steady earnest thumping of the man’s heart right next to him. he is being honest with what remains unsaid, what you’d told matt days ago that he still struggled to believe. he tilts his head so, and bruce has known him long enough now to know that he’s thinking hard about what to say next, “I suppose you’ll have to take me on a date first. just so we’re all even.”

“is pinning you to the mat not courting enough for you?”

#usually in the dc trinity headcanons bruce is like the last one to agree to the throuple so him bringing up the throuple first tickles me #bruce wayne x reader #matt murdock x reader #bruce wayne x matt murdock #??? I guess???#dc #marvel #mjwrites #mjanswers

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emira-addams · 9 months ago

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Hazbin Hotel - Odette x Velvette - Headcanon

I’m so sorry, but I had this idea about Velvette falling for Carmillas daughter and not the time to write a full fic

Of course, these two girls were not strangers; they knew each other from the regular Overlord meetings and had often sat in opposite chairs, however, apart from the occasional cautious exchange of glances, they had not talked a word with each other so far

Odette shared her mother's opinion, and Carmilla Carmine felt a strict rejection towards the three Vees, a rejection of their behavior and disrespect, their lack of seriousness, their greed for money, their lust for power, their irresponsibility, and their self-absorbed attitude

In Odette's eyes, Velvette was just a stupid and arrogant brat who desperately tried to attract all the attention at every given opportunity and clearly had way too much self-confidence, until the two girls met for the first time outside an Overlord meeting

Odette was successfully persuaded by her younger sister to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night and behind their mother's back

Clara wanted to attend a party in another part of the city and dragged her sister along

The moment neon lights blinded Odette and the loud bass deafened her ears, Odette regretted her decision to accompany her sister, as she would surely have a headache the next morning

No more than a minute later, she had lost Clara in the crowd and found herself alone and lost on the dance floor

Suddenly, Odette was approached by Velvette, and she immediately twisted her face in annoyance at her presence; she firmly intended to hit her sister later, of course, Clara had dragged her to a party of the Vees

"What do you want from me?" Odette asked, annoyed.

Velvette grinned widely. "Tell me, sweetheart, how many times would I theoretically have to fuck with you to get a discount on your mother's weapons?" she provocatively inquired, while Odette grimaced in disgust and sized up Velvette from top to bottom

"Never!" she spat. "As long as I'm in my right mind, I wouldn't even dream of it..."

"Too bad!" Velvette pouted.

Odette's and Velvette's paths were to cross for the second time the next day during an Overlord meeting, as Velvette sat down opposite Odette with her arms crossed in front of her chest and the same wide grin as the day before, winking seductively at her, while Odette turned away with an indignant snort

Clara sat next to her sister, her head laid on the table, groaning from the hangover

Odette elbowed Clara and whispered with a cautious look towards their mother that she should pull herself together, the atmosphere between them and Carmilla had been tense since their return from the party the night before

At dawn, the sisters had unsuccessfully tried to sneak into their rooms, their mother had already been waiting for them in the hallway, angrily demanding to know where they had been

Odette tried to downplay their disappearance and think of an excuse, but when Clara accidentally let slip that they had been at a party of the Vees and then had to vomit on the expensive carpet in the hallway, the sisters had definitely lost and faced the consequences: an angry lecture from their mother and a curfew for the next few weeks

Carmilla did not want to hear Odette's arguments against punishment, such as that they were demons, and not teenagers anymore; since early breakfast, the sisters had not spoken a word with their mother, and the atmosphere between them was tense, and they did not exchange a single glance

After the Overlord meeting was over, almost everyone left the meeting room, only Velvette lingered a moment longer to overhear Carmilla ordering her daughters to take the ruined carpet to the cleaners as additional punishment for their forbidden nocturnal outing, that suddenly sparking Velvette's curiosity

Velvette left Valentino and Vox behind and decided to follow Odette and Clara, the overheard conversation had piqued her interest, and she was already figuring out how to use it to her advantage

While the sisters were dragging the carpet to the nearby cleaners, Clara complained a lot about their mother

Odette sighed, understanding both her mother's and her sister's perspectives, and cautiously warned her sister when Clara suggested that they should somehow stand up to their mother and her punishment, like making the awful carpet disappear forever or throwing their own party and ruining the house

Of course, Velvette had followed the sisters to the cleaners and overheard their conversation

With her well-known wide grin, she leaned against a street lamp next to the cleaners, holding her phone in her hand and casually swiping across the screen

"Oh, you two are quite the rebels..." she joked without looking up from her phone's screen. "My offer for business fuckings still stands, sweetheart, in case you're so desperate to get back at your mother..."

“Business fuckings?”, repeated Clara, confused, while Odette felt the heat rise to her cheeks and her face reddened.

"We're going home now!" Odette decided and took her sisters arm to pull her away from Velvette.

Velvette would get her discount eventually, but she decided not to pursue the sisters any further for the time being, because despite the quarrel between Carmilla and her daughters, the arms dealer would not hesitate to make Velvette a head shorter if she got too close to her daughters

On the way home, Clara desperately tried to get more out of her sister about what happened at the party between her and Velvette, but Odette stuck to the simple answer that Velvette had hit on her to get a discount on Carmine weapons

Moreover, Odette asked her sister to keep their encounters with Velvette a secret from their mother

"But you would still tell your own sister immediately if you had a girlfriend, right?" Clara tried to pressure her.

"Yeah…" Odette sighed. She was really becoming weary of the topic of a relationship between her and Velvette.

When Velvette wanted something, she became relentless, and so it happened that Odette desperately tried to drag the cleaned carpet from the cleaners back home while Clara helped their mother with business, and was intercepted by Velvette again

Velvette had threatened the owner of the cleaners to find out when the two Carmine sisters would come back to pick up the carpet

"Do you need help?" With feline friendliness, Velvette circled around Odette, who had thrown the heavy carpet over her shoulder but had already begun to heave under its weight.

"No!" Odette scolded with a face red from exertion.

Velvette followed the girl on her way.

Odette was about to collapse under the weight of the carpet, had Velvette not come to her rescue at the last moment to help her carry the thing the rest of the way and finally spread it out again in the hallway of the Carmine mansion

"What do you want for your generous help?" Odette wanted to know, with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Mentally, she was already preparing for the next argument with her mother, which would surely follow as soon as she found out that her daughter had sold a weapon at a discount to Velvette. The Carmine family, after all, did not do business with the Vees...

Falling into disgrace with her mother for a short time was, however, more preferable to Odette than being permanently killed by a carpet.

As Velvette amusingly noted, Odette had the same stern tone and disapproving look as her mother. At first, Velvette wanted to demand the discount for her help, but then spontaneously another idea came to her head. "Coffee," she bluntly said.

"Coffee?" Odette looked confused.

"Yes!" Velvette nodded. "I'd like to go have coffee with you. When are you free?"

They arranged to meet at a nice café in Cannibal-Town

All evening long, Odette pondered over Velvette, her demand for her help didn't make sense to her and confused her, while Velvette convinced herself on her way home that she was just going to have coffee with Odette to play the long game

"I have a date and must go," Odette explained to her mother the next day, while she kept the details like with whom and where from her.

The dispute between the two girls and their mother had long been settled; they had apologized for sneaking out, and Carmilla had lifted their curfew

Clara and their mother looked at Odette in surprise, but without further questions, they let her go

Besides, Odette fled from her mother's office as quickly as possible; she would face her surely following interrogation later

Velvette had sent a driver for Odette, who picked her up a few streets away from the Carmine factory, and they met in front of a cozy café at the edge of Cannibal-Town, located in a rather quiet area

To Odette's surprise, she enjoyed the meet-up with Velvette very much

At first, the two sat silently opposite each other, staring quietly at their drinks, Velvette had coffee and Odette preferred tea, but then, out of Odette's desperate attempt to overcome the awkward silence, a real conversation developed, and Velvette seemed to genuinely appreciate her company

Hours passed, and they sat together in the café, talking about everything under the sun, they got along really well and when a worried call from Odette's mother interrupted them, and they had to say goodbye, they exchanged numbers

Odette really wanted to continue talking with Velvette, they set a new day for another meeting, and for the rest of the evening, a smile graced her lips whenever she glanced at her phone screen

Odette's and Velvette's secret meet-ups quickly became a regularity, again and again, Odette spent the afternoon with Velvette in some small unknown café, away from prying eyes, without telling her mother or her sister, she couldn’t tell them she was friends with Velvette

Before either Odette or Velvette realized it, their usual meet-ups had turned into romantic dates, and they found themselves sneaking through the back door of a porn-cinema in the middle of the morning, holding hands, to kiss each other in the darkness and solitude of the deserted hall, paying no attention to the movie playing

Velvette confessed her feelings first, rambling the words and almost forgetting to breath, while Odette listened adoringly

Velvette's coffee addiction had been replaced by tea, and the text messages they exchanged were almost like love letters

Every time Velvette looked at her phone screen, a broad smile formed on her lips, and Odette suddenly spent so much more time on her phone that Clara became suspicious

Surprisingly, Odette's ability to sneak in and out of the house unseen improved, and occasionally Velvette would climb through the window of her room on the first floor at night and spend the night in her bed, gone by the next morning when Carmilla came to wake her daughter

One night, however, Odette and Velvette encountered her sister in the hallway as they were trying to sneak out together

Clara confronted her sister, and Odette confessed that she had fallen in love with Velvette

Clara did not trust Velvette, but Velvette made her sister happy, and she swore to keep the secret of their relationship, but the first time Carmilla had a strange suspicion about them was when Velvette, while sneaking out the Carmine mansion, accidentally dropped butt-naked from the balcony of Odettes room and right into the cake on the table in the garden, while she was enjoying teatime with Rosie and Zestial

“Sorry, but I fucked your daughter…” Velvette always thought her words were really eloquent.

“You… What?”

But Velvette was gone before Carmilla could clean the cake off of her face.

Carmilla and Odette did not spoke about this, but the next time Carmilla observed Velvette looking suspiciously around before taking Odette's hand and pulling her behind the next corner right before another Overlord meeting

Carmilla was already on her way to rescue her daughter from the clutches of the Vees' brat when Clara blocked her mother's path and bombarded her with questions to stall her, shouting so loudly that her sister and Velvette could hear her

By the time Carmilla turned the corner, Odette and Velvette had disappeared from sight

While the Overlord meeting was taking place, Odette and Velvette sat next to each other, their pinkies secretly intertwined under the table, while Carmilla did not take her eyes off her daughter and the Vees' brat during her presentation

Odette kicked Velvette under the table, trying desperately to stop her girlfriend as Velvette began to provoke Carmilla and Zestial, but Carmilla had already made the accusation in front of all Overlords that Velvette was a bad influence and should keep her hands off her daughter, promptly starting a fight between her and Velvette in front of everyone about Odette, with Carmilla despising Velvette

"I love Odette!" Velvette retorted. At first opportunity, she had jumped onto the table and positioned herself in front of Carmilla with hands on her hips, determined to defend their relationship.

"You brat are definitely not good enough for my daughter!" Carmilla countered angrily. She hadn't yet noticed how Odette had shrunken back into her chair and the rest of the Overlords had hastily left the room. Only Clara and Zestial remained, trying desperately to calm her down.

"Odette?" Velvette whispered uncertain, calling her girlfriend's name and looking at her for help. She wanted to hear from her that she disagreed with her mother, but Odette remained silent. "Shit…" cursed Velvette.

Velvette had lost her confidence

Carmillas sentence and Odettes silence hurt more than Velvette wanted to admit

Velvette quickly looked away as tears suddenly pricked in her eyes and she felt a stabbing pain in her heart, she swallowed sorrowfully, her sleeve wiping over her eyes again and again as if to chase away the tears, and she rubbed the painful spot in her chest in rising panic, Velvette couldn't show weakness in front of Carmilla

Instead, she bared her fangs and clenched her fists, spat one last insult at Carmilla, then stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her

"Velvette!"

Before Odette could run after her girlfriend, she was held back by her mother, it would be better this way

"Love is for losers!" Valentino called after Velvette as she roughly pushed him aside and quickly disappeared into her room to hide her tears.

The following days were met with complete silence between Odette and Velvette; instead, the next extermination was looming

In her search for angelic weapons, Odette had been separated from her mother and sister; an exorcist chased her through the streets into the Vees' district and finally cornered her, as Odette screamed for her mother, her sister, or Velvette, hoping someone could hear her cries for help

She screamed in excruciating pain, and the exorcist laughed mockingly as the angelic spear pierced her shoulder, and Odette fell to the ground, left bleeding

The spear was still in her shoulder, and she laid unconscious in a puddle of her own blood when Velvette found Odette in the dark alley behind the Vees' tower

"Odette?" Velvette whispered with a voice choked by tears, her name trembling on her tongue. Gently, her hand brushed a sweaty strand from her pale face. "Please…" she begged.

"V-Velvette?" Odette's eyelids fluttered, and she looked at her girlfriend with a blurred vision.

"Y-Yes…" Velvette sobbed. "Don't worry, I'm here for you," she promised. "I will get help, I promise. You just have to do me the favor and stay awake, okay?"

"I'm sorry…" Odette groaned, her eyes rolled back into her skull, and her head fell unconscious on Velvette's shoulder, who had picked her up bridal style. Her blood ruined Velvette's favorite vest, but Velvette couldn't care less. She ran off with Odette in her arms.

Velvette brought Odette to the nearest hospital

Velvette waited patiently in the waiting room when Carmilla, accompanied by Clara, rushed in; Carmilla was so worried about her daughter that she initially didn't notice Velvette, instead, she wanted to know from an overwhelmed nurse what was with Odette

"She will survive…"

Velvette cleared her throat, not fond to interrupt a heated Carmilla

"What are you doing here?" Carmilla asked, her words spitting venom and her eyes narrowed into thin slits as she looked down on Velvette. "You should leave."

"No... I will stay with Odette…" Velvette crossed her arms in front of her chest and faced Carmilla full of confidence, not moving from her chair in the waiting room.

Time passed, and Carmilla and Velvette waited together in silence, while Clara had her head resting on her mother's lap and succumbed to sleep

It became night outside the windows

Velvette was terribly tired, she rubbed her eyes and suppressed a yawn, desperately fighting the urge to let her eyes rest and just let sleep take her, she was infinitely exhausted, but her concern for Odette was bigger, she groaned and let her skull bang against the wall behind her, hoping the pain would keep her awake

"You should sleep…" Carmilla whispered softly, while her hand gently combed through her daughter's hair, and her gaze lovingly rested on Clara. "I'll wake you up as soon as there are any news about Odette, I promise..."

But Velvette declined the offer, instead, she stood up and began pacing back and forth in the waiting room, the movement kept her awake

Carmilla sighed frustratedly at Velvette's stubbornness

"I'm sorry," Carmilla suddenly said.

"What?" Surprised, Velvette stopped and looked at her.

"I'm sorry…" Carmilla repeated her words. "I think I misjudged your intentions with Odette. I accused you of not being good enough for my daughter, out of fear that you were just taking advantage of her... I made a mistake and I want to sincerely apologize to you. My daughter is truly very happy with you, and I was too blind to see it. I'm sorry, Velvette…”

Once again speechless, Velvette stood in front of Carmilla Carmine, desperately trying to process her apology. “I… Uh…” she stuttered, dumbfounded. Velvette cleared her throat, regaining her composure. “Thank you,” she responded to Carmilla’s apology. “It's a mystery to me, but somehow, I've fallen in love with her... I'm not playing games with your daughter, I truly love Odette.” The fucking flush rising to Velvette’s cheeks was unstoppable, she cursed herself.

“I know…” Carmilla offered Velvette an encouraging smile.

Carmilla and Velvette reconciled

Odette woke up a few hours later, and they were finally allowed to enter her hospital room

Carmilla and Clara immediately enveloped Odette in a suffocating hug, while Velvette waited respectfully in the doorway, until finally Clara had to pry her sister from their mother’s arms and lead a tearful Carmilla out of the room, so the couple could be alone.

“Hey…” With discomfort in every cell of her body, Velvette stood in front of Odette’s bed.

“Hey,” Odette replied, avoiding Velvette’s gaze. “It looks like you made up with my mother?”

“Yes…” Velvette nodded, scratching the back of her head awkwardly. Could she still call Odette her girlfriend?

“I want to apologize to you.” Odette took Velvette’s hands in hers, intertwining their fingers and looking very serious at Velvette. “At the Overlord meeting, I should have been on your side; you’re my girlfriend, and I should have stood up against my mother to defend you. I shouldn’t have just sat there, so stupid and silent. I’m really sorry, can you forgive me?”

“Forgive and forget,” Velvette said quickly. Before the tears in her eyes could escape, she threw her arms around her girlfriend and buried her face in Odette’s shoulder.

Relieved, Odette pulled Velvette closer into her arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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