#priorities am I right ladies?
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pasdetrois · 2 years ago
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Rebecca (1940, dir Alfred Hitchcock) // Vievee Francis, "Apologia" (Excerpt) // Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca
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cloakedsparrow · 5 months ago
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Dick: Okay, I think we’re gonna have to do ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop’.
Jason: Yeah. It’s tropey but it works.
Dick: Exactly. Wanna flip for Bad Cop?
Jason: You’re kidding.
Dick: Or we could play Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock?
Jason: Dude, I can’t be Good Cop. I kill people, remember? You can’t kill people and be Good Cop.
Dick: Those were traffickers and mob lieutenants. These are Rogue goons.
Jason: What, like that matters?
Dick: Yes, that matters. They don’t care that you took out some mobsters. They care that you revived the Joker after beating him to death and then let him go.
Jason: I didn’t revive him, I just didn’t let him die yet! And I didn’t let him go either! That was Batman! I was gonna kill the psycho!
Dick: Yeah, well, you still kept him alive and the goons probably know it. Just like they know I was happy to leave him dead when I killed him.
Jason: What?
Dick: You heard me.
Jason: You…?
Dick: Killed the Joker? Yes. I thought he killed Timmy and then when I confronted him, he said your name and…I didn’t stop hitting him until he choked on his own blood.
Jason: Then…how is he still alive?
Dick: Batman revived him.
Jason Fucking what?
Dick: Yeah.
Jason: Well, now I definitely can’t be Good Cop. I’m way to pissed for that shit.
Dick: Well, so am I.
Jason: Fuck.
Dick: Fuck.
Jason: So now whadda we do? Try to beat it outta him?
Dick: No, he'll lock down. That's why I suggested "Good Cop, Bad Cop" to begin with.
Jason: So we need a Good Cop.
Dick: Okay, I’m gonna call Timmy and see if he can come play Good Cop.
Jason: Good plan.
Dick [talking into a secure (& Batman-proof) phone]: Hey, Robin, you busy?
Tim [on speakerphone]: Kinda, yeah. What’s going on? You sound weird.
Dick: Hood and I need to get some intel from a goon, and we’re thinking “Good Cop, Bad Cop” is the way to go but neither of us can pull off Good Cop right now.
Tim: Shit. I’m in Bangkok right now-
Jason: The fuck are you doing in Bangkok?
Tim: Speedy needed help with a thing.
Dick: In Bangkok?
Tim: No. She’s in Korea.
Jason: So, again, why the fuck are you in Bangkok?
Tim: Because Lady Shiva’s here and she’s perfect for what Speedy needs, so I’m calling in a favor she owes me.
Dick: You’re calling in a favor from Lady Shiva because Speedy needs help with a thing in Korea.
Tim: Yep. You got it.
Dick: No, that’s- You say that like it doesn’t require any further-
Tim: Can you hang on for a second? There’s an assassin tailing me.
Dick: Shit. Do you need us to send someone out there?
Jason; Starfire should be done with her thing by now. She's not on your shit list, right?
Tim: No, I like Kori. But I’m good now. My assassin got the other assassin.
Dick: You have an assassin?
Tim: Kinda? She defected from the League of Assassins and is up for hire but she always gives me priority since she feels like she owes me a life-debt.
Dick: Again, you sound like you think that statement doesn’t require any further explanation.
Jason: So you hired your assassin buddy to kill the other assassin?
Tim: What? No. Of course not. She didn’t kill him. We’ll question him later. She never kills on my jobs since she knows I don’t like it.
Dick: What about other jobs?
Tim: That’s her business. We aren’t all control freaks, you know.
Dick: That’s-
Jason: That’s good, Little Red. Good that you have healthy boundaries.
Dick: I have healthy boundaries.
Jason: Sure you do.
Tim: Okay, you’re gonna have to argue that on your own. I’m supposed to help my friends out with something after I get Shiva to help Speedy, but I have to handle this interrogation first. So how about I just send my friends the twenty-five plans I drew up and ask Bunker if he minds helping you out before he joins us? He should be able to get inside Gotham in less than ten minutes.
Jason: Oh, Bunker’s perfect for Good Cop.
Tim: Right? They’ll spill everything and probably give him their grandma’s secret family recipes on top of it.
Dick: Wait. Back it up. You have twenty-five plans drawn up? What are you guys up against?
Tim: Nothing we can’t handle. Young Justice figures, why even bother with a plan B if you aren’t gonna cover the whole alphabet?
Jason: There’s twenty-six letters in the alphabet, Little Red.
Tim: Yeah, but plan Z is always the same, so we don’t bother listing it anymore.
Dick: Is it ‘get an adult’?
Tim: Of course not.
Jason: When you were a Teen Titan, how often did you call in an adult when you probably should have?
Dick: Okay, that’s fair.
Jason: So what’s plan Z?
Tim: ‘Fuck it, we ball’.
Dick: That’s not a pl-
Jason: That’s perfect. I love it.
Dick: No. Don’t encourage him.
Tim: Thanks, Red. So do you want me to ask Bunker about helping you? I’m kinda on a time crunch now.
Jason: Yes, please.
Tim: Okay. He’s on the way. Is there anything else?
Dick: Whe-
Jason: No, we’re good. Have fun storming the castle!
Tim: ‘Kay, bye!
Jason: Bye!
Dick: The fuck-
Jason: Bunker and I can handle the interrogation here and Timmy and his assassin friend are gonna be busy with an interrogation there for a bit. If you take off now, you can probably catch up with him and go all big brother like you’re dying to.
Dick: You sure?
Jason: Yeah, I’m sure me and Bunker can handle this asshole.
Dick: Thank you.
Jason: Yeah, well, you did kill the Joker. That’s gotta count for something, right?
Dick: I’ll tell you all about it after I make sure Timmy doesn’t get himself killed or lose another organ.
Jason: I’ll hold you to- Timmy lost an organ?
Dick [already calling Kori to get him to Tim]: Later. I’m on a time crunch now!
Jason: I’m holding you to that!
Jason: *sighs* No one in this family knows how to share.
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sweet-as-kiwis · 1 year ago
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I’m gonna fistfight my school’s disability services.
#like first off. I have only JUST TODAY. gotten a solid answer as to where I stand with SLDS and housing.#I have been emailing them. since January#two! I have been working with them FOR HALF A FUCKING YEAR. DOING EVERYTHING THEY REQUEST. INCLUDING TWO SEPERATE DOCTORS VISITS.#BECAUSE THEY KEEP SAYING IF I DO EVERYTHING RIGHT ILL GET MY ALREADY FUCKING APPROVED ACCOMIDATIONS.#AND NOW. I GET AN EMAIL. SAYING actually sorry you don’t get Any on campus housing because you’re TECHNICALLY a senior#and third year housing is lowest on priorities so you can’t get it :/#LIKE FUCKING EXCUSE ME#AFTER JUMPING THROUGH SO MANY FUCKING HOOPS YOURE JUST GONNA DENY ME HOUSING ALL TOGETHER?????#LIKE MOTHERFUCKERS ALL OF MY ENTRY ESSAYS WERE ON AUTISM IN COLLEGE WITH AN EMPHASIS ON WHY THE AUTISTIC STUDENT DROP OUT RATE IS SO HIGH#AND NOW YOURE GONNA TELL THE AUTOSTIC STUDENT YOU CANT PROVIDE ACCOMIDATIONS OR THEIR PRE APPROVED PLACE TO FUCKING LIVE???#LIKE WHAT THE FUCK ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO BUT DROP OUT?????#THIS IS PART OF THE GODDAMN ISSUE!!!!#anyways. thanks in no small part to my mom we’re now yelling at Housing again because SLDS ain’t doing Jack shit#and the housing lady was very nice and said that she will Figure it Out for me and that I Will have a dorm provided next semester#shoutout to my mom for taking over that phone call when I started crying btw#also for threatening to Sue the School because THEY HAD ALL THE FUCKING RECORDS AND THEN SAID actually nvm we take that back No Housing#like?????#anyways. current worst case scenario is no longer couchsurfing in my friend’s house#instead it’s either ‘single but no bathroom’ or ‘bathroom but Random Roommates’#between which I think I might just cry again but. better than a couch!#and if I stay in the current assignment (the single but no bath) I’m not getting an ESA because the building has no ac#and the one person I knew who lived there had to take her cat outside Regularly because the building was dangerously hot for him#and I can’t do that to a kitten i would Perish#anyways! fuck SLDS for making me do all of this for HALF OF A FUCKING YEAR just to deny me based on credits#especially when they knew I was going into my third year to start with#so! I’m gonna punch some people! and hopefully Housing Girlie helps me out cause I’m loosing my shit
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skyrigel · 3 months ago
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Simon swore he didn't want a relationship, but as soon as he met you — well there might be some changes in the plan.
He did want a relationship, fine, if it's with you, he's willing to give it a try but he's not really going for the trouble. No, thankyou.
Simon wouldn't really ask you if you haven't eaten yet or not, he's not your daddy, like that's a different thing, but he's not going to give you an earful for sleeping late and eating unhealthy.
He's going to be your boyfriend but... nonchalant boyfriend if it made any sense.
It never did.
Maybe changing his priorities was the first tick-tick for the bomb that came along his way because as soon as he found you, he was gobsmacked with a possessiveness that drived him insane.
He thought it would only bother him when you would be around because what sort of man he would be if he didn't melt at your sweetness.
But you lingered like a tattooed kiss, everything now connected with you, every thought started and ended with you.
He almost asked Soap to tie his hands so he could stop texting you random shit.
Like why should he bother with your meds and why it's making his heart burn if you haven't taken them.
Everything was jus' getting out of hand.
You were just so extreme, just out of your mind and he liked it, fuck he loved every bit of you. He just couldn't stop himself —
“You look like... you're bout’ to cry.” Soap annouced from his side, Simon shaked his head, then thinking different, nodded.
“She's having a bad day.” He said, “I am gonna kill this Nancy.”
“Who's..Nancy ?”
“You know wot ?” Simon grumbled instead, “I am gonna call her and tell her.. it's gonna be okay.”
“Right.” Soap bounced, covering his face because what has happened to his mate.
“Untie my wrist.” He growled.“Quick.” he added dangerously.
“Right.” Soap shrugged, already getting on his feet.
And if staying away from you was proving to be bad on his nonchalance then being near was almost tripping.
“You said you wouldn't come.” You gasped when he arrived, looking nervous and perhaps bit surprised himself.
“I...well...you look lovely.” He leaned to kiss your cheek, simple adorable gesture, “Thankyou Si !” He blushed at the nickname.
He really didn't know what took him until he realised that giving in to care about you was probably for the best. And really, it wasn't so bad, to think about you, to put efforts for you, to fucking nick the moon for you, because the moment you smiled at him so fondly, like he was capable to deserve that warmth from you, he actually knew what the trouble was all about and he was very much gladly taking a fall for your sake.
So it really didn't matter if he was putting on his warmth clothes because he was one second away from wrapping you in warmth the moment you very much sniffed.
It didn't matter how hot your body got sometimes with heat, he's there soaking cloth in cold ice water and cooling you down.
He's hearing that french lady talk and talk because he needs that recipe you so very love.
He sleeps with an arm under your head and heart full of things he would do for you and himself, to built a home.
Because he fucking cares, he swore for that, to make you the happiest with him.
He doesn't want to be nonchalant, he doesn't want to pretend like he doesn't care because he does.
Really.
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spxllcxstxr · 4 months ago
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Northern Attitude (I) • C.S
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(Gif not mine)
Request: hey!! can i request something where you’re a targaryen and you’ve been sent to speak with cregan like jacaerys did on the show, but you’re quite soft spoken and feel lowkey intimidated by all these big burly northmen. and ofc some flirting with cregan and he makes you feel safe :) -- @sarahisslytherin
Summary: In the process of assuring Winterfell’s loyalty to your mother, you get close to Lord Stark
Warnings: fem!reader, you’re the daughter of Rhaenyra but I don’t specify the father so it can be more inclusive (older than jace), alcohol and eating mentions
Word Count: 1.3k
A.N: This wasn't going to be this long and then I got so into it. I'm actually really happy with how this turned out! Not just because it's actually over 1k words, but also because i really really like it! And I hope you guys enjoy it too!!
Part I | Read the last part here!
The bitter cold of the North nips at your extremities even when housed inside the walls of Winterfell. This was a cold you felt right down to the bone, despite the furs your host had provided you with only hours prior when you arrived.
Since your arrival, you have occupied yourself in your chambers, flitting between the books on the shelves and the small hearth on the other side of the decent sized room.
It is not until late your host makes an appearance; matters from the Wall taking priority over the Queen's daughter. You held no ill will, knowing how important the Wall was for the Northmen closest to it.
The greeting outside of your chamber door goes smoothly; since birth you had to greet numerous Lords and Ladies, this one being no different. His charming looks, though stoic, catch you off guard. You take his offered arm before he guides you to the welcome feast.
Cregan leads you through the dark stone corridors of Winterfell, your arms intertwined as you hold onto the crook of his elbow. You feel his strong muscle through his many layers of thick fabric. Your footsteps echo along with the metallic rattling of your guards behind the two of you. The absence of conversation is comfortable, however, something you truly have not felt since the death of your Grandsire.
Beside you, Cregan practically radiates warmth which has you almost melting into his side. Despite the chill, his hands are uncovered, the palm of his hand rests on your arm, heating your covered skin beneath.
The sight of the rugged wooden doors causes you to stiffen almost immediately. The reality of your purpose for being at Winterfell cools your blood as it finally washes over you. You were here on behalf of your mother, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Swallowing uneasily, you attempt to calm your nerves.
Sensing your distress, Cregan leans closer to your frame. "Do not fret, Princess," He mutters kindly. "You have no one to convince except me—and I am already highly inclined to agree to your terms."
You do not spare your host a glance as your face burns. In front of you, the grand doors open, revealing a large hall and guests already rising for the two of you.
Your gaze glides over the bowing figures, all men, you notice. The only women in the hall were serving girls; stiffly standing at the ends of the room, pitchers full of presumably ale clutched in their hands.
Attempting to muster up a commanding presence was difficult when next to the Lord of Winterfell, for he commands the room with no effort. His men watch you as you continue to the other side. Their intense stares and built bodies making you nervous. Swords were strewn recklessly across their dining tables, bows and arrows litter the floor. In their eyes you were a defenseless babe crawling into a den of wolves.
The men in King’s Landing and Dragonstone were dangerous in a different way. Their sharp wit and web of lies could cut deep and kill. The men of the North, however, used their brute force and self-assured bravery to kill you just as dreadfully. Any one of these men could bloody you as you walk by them. This rattles you just as much as the plotting traitors back in King’s Landing does.
Taking a deep breath, you feel the soothing motions of Cregan's thumb tracing circles against your arm. The reassurance pulls you out of your spiral of thoughts. With your chin held high you continue to the front of the hall, the long wooden table already covered with food and goblets of wine and ale.
After a few words from both you and Cregan the feast begins and the once silent hall becomes almost deafening. There were plenty of jeers and jokes thrown around at your expense. If you had more fire in your blood like the rest of your family, you might have said something to stay their tongues.
You and Cregan make small talk, the two of you paying more attention to the plates on the table. By the time your appetite is sated the Lord of Winterfell had noticed your meek demeanor and timid glances at the drunk Northmen below.
"Pay them no mind, Princess," The warm light of the hall's hearth dance in Cregan's striking grey eyes. "These rowdy bastards lack decency after a drop of ale."
You scan Winterfell's great hall from your position at the high table. Cregan Stark's men were all in various states of disarray, though you suppose it’s only characteristic of Northerners. The room was loud, almost overwhelmingly so, with booming laughter and arguments that spanned across the tables.
"Not like Dragonstone, I presume?" At Cregan's soft yet baritone voice, heat creeps up your neck.
Your gaze turns to the Lord of Winterfell, a smile gracing his usually stoic face. "Not at all, my Lord. Dragonstone is more.."
"Boring?"
"Traditional," You finish, smile mirroring his own.
Cregan snorts. "Aye, you Southerners have quite the stick up the arse."
"Oh really now?" You lightly giggle, tilting your head as if to challenge the Northerner at your side. You drink from your goblet, the red wine sweet on your lips, eyebrows raised.
"Aye, Princess. I think you need a Northerner to invigorate your life down there."
You hum in response, the wine making your skin tingle. With your attention now solely on Cregan Stark, you feel yourself melting into comfort.
Cregan briefly pauses, looking into your eyes. They mirror an oncoming winter storm and you’re unable to look away.
“I have something to attend to, Princess. My men will escort you and your guards to your quarters.” He takes your hand in his, the delicate grip of such a strong man making you bite your bottom lip. “I will try to see you before the night ends.” With that, his lips meet your knuckles in a soft kiss.
Cregan heaves himself out of his seat, throwing you one last smirk before leaving you in the hall with your guards and the remaining feasting men.
With one last sip from your goblet, you allow yourself to be escorted to your chambers, tugging your fur cloak tighter around you.
The crescent moon is shining through your window when you hear three knocks on you door. Assuming that this late night visitor could only be Lord Stark, you rise from the bed, adorning the fur cloak your host had provided you earlier in the day.
The door creaks as you open it tentatively. Cregan stands at the threshold, wearing the same attire from the feast. You take note of the hint of pink on his cheeks and the red hue of the tips of his ears peeking out of his shoulder length brown hair. Whether this was a result of the North's bitter chill or something else, you do not know.
"Princess." He bows his head as he greets you.
"Lord Stark..." You breathe out, smiling at the man in front of you. "Is this visit based on the business of the Crown?"
"No, Princess, I just..." His low tone tapers off as he lifts his hand up in order to stroke you face. His fingertips feel warm against your skin. You wait with bated breath for his next move. Slowly, his fingertips trace down your delicate skin to hold your chin between his index and his thumb. He tilts your head up slightly. His stormy grey eyes never leave your own. "I just wanted to gaze upon your beauty once more before I fall asleep."
The maneuver has you practically trembling under your heavy furs. You wet your lips, his eyes only quickly following the movement before once again settling back on your eyes.
"I am happy to indulge in your desires...my Lord." You whisper, voice almost quivering.
"Sleep well, Princess," With that, Cregan removes his touch, though his warmth still lingers across your face. He bows once more before turning and walking down the stone corridor.
Slowly you close your chamber door, smiling lips pursed.
"Mother will be pleased." You sigh before sitting once more on your bed, thoughts of Cregan Stark dancing through your head.
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madame-fear · 3 months ago
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Okay but like am I the only one that thrives on angst?? Because imagine if Jacaerys and his young wife, who he by the way only married for the support of The Arryns, had marriage problems because there’s always been tension between her and Baela (just an idea, I love my Baela bc she’s my girl!!) as Jacaerys was supposed to be married to her instead..and might I mention that reader was shipped off to Dragonstone by herself to give birth to her son and she’s been alone and scared all the time, until she’s brought back to Kingslanding after her mother in-law, Queen Rhaenyra, finally claimed back the throne with a peace treaty between the Hightowers. His wife is so so shy and alone because she’s only used to being with their baby, and Jacaerys is just absolutely worried for her because he hasn’t visited her at all due to his duties as heir and it just so happens that his wife thinks he hates herr 💔💔 (this was a bit long..but idk)
𐙚 𝐐𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.
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ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : the so awaited Arryn reader fic is here !! Hope it was what you expected, and overall enjoy it! Thought this was longer than 3.6k words! 😭🤲💗 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : ∿ request above! ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 3.6k
˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : angst to fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Arryn!Wife!Reader.
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After many years of a long, nearly never ending war, it had finally subsided— bringing peace for once and for all. It had been the same war that provoked the death of innocent people, and the one responsible for your marriage with Prince Jacaerys, as well.
A rather complex marriage, you’d say it was— though, it was an engagement that could only be expected. Betrothals and marriages had never been done for the sake of genuine love, but only for the sake of allies & tying deeper bonds between the Houses; helplessly falling in forced, unhappy marriages.
There had been little to no time for any of you two to establish some sort of proper relationships between each other. It worked as an engagement with the sole purpose of gaining support from House Arryn amidst the war with the Greens. “A betrothal, in exchange for support”, and it served with it’s purpose as it should in a way, you guessed.
Except, for the looming tension that came along your marriage.
Jace’s previous betrothal to Lady Baela, firstborn daughter of the Rogue Prince, wasn’t unbeknownst to you; a betrothal that had to be broken off when you appeared in the picture, as the support from the Arryns would be placed as number one priority— with Jacaerys marrying you as the one and only condition for yet another ally. It was inconvenient, but very much needed.
The growing tension between you and his previous betrothed notoriously loomed in the air as soon as you both met one another— being presented with little to no words from Baela, and most of the time, all the endless attempts you did in order to establish a good relationship with her, were dismissed; thrown into the wind, as you were given a cold stare, with no words said... Being walked right past, left ignored.
Often times, you could feel her contemptuous stare fixed on you, each time you were sat next to Jacaerys.
Solitude had leisurely grown as a frequent monster lurking in your surroundings. “I can’t do anything about it, I can’t act as an intermediary to your relationship.” was the strict response given to you by your future Lord Husband, when speaking your mind regarding how the Lady Baela gave you a cold shoulder, despite the constant friendliness you had to offer.
Jacaerys didn’t seem to care much at all. You swore that the eldest Velaryon prince was as indifferent towards you, as his previous betrothed was— maybe, he even resented you for breaking off his already arranged betrothal. And you couldn’t say you didnt understand the situation, however.
Years of having known, trusted, each other, growing by each other’s side... Having their betrothal arranged for years— you could even silently observe the way in which they gazed at each other, occasionally. All of that had only been for it to turn into ash & dust when the time to seek support from allies had come.
But what other choice did you have, except none at all? Had you any blame, at all? Were you truly the one at fault? The growing solitude and the hefty weight of guilt was nearly asphyxiating. You felt desperately trapped in an escapeless labyrinth, being fully aware of how you had no one at all to release each one of your thoughts to— with your betrothed often giving you a cold shoulder as well, or simply, being far too engaged in his duties. Each private conversation, managed to quickly be dismissed; you had been forced to be kept to yourself, in a way.
All for a war between kin. All for the sake of allies. And you, right in the middle of it all.
Things hadn’t grown to become any better at all by the time you fell pregnant with your first child— with his child. Much less considering it was all still under the looming tension of war felt in the atmosphere.
Dragonstone had become your temporary home; one you had been sent to all by yourself, still being with child. Taking proper care of yourself throughout your pregnancy had been a difficult task, considering how the general situation provoked a constant state of fright and concern to you. Alone, with no one else to rely on; finding mere solace in talking to yourself... Or, rather, talking quietly to your unborn child.
It wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing for the fragile conditions you were mentally experiencing— it simply deepened that inner void, those bitter feelings of loneliness; poisoning you slowly with every quiet tear you dropped late at night in your chambers, after holding on to the knot that formed on your throat during the day.
The rocky castle had been the same place where you had birthed your child— a healthy boy, much to your fortune. Something that the Gods had finally graced you with. And that grace was, providing an heir for your husband... Though, you had given birth to your babe in the mere company of a few maids, and maesters. Your own mother-in-law couldn’t be there by your side, as much as she deeply desired to. Your own husband, with his duties as Rhaenyra’s heir, couldn’t assist, either— and much less, your own blood.
The Gods have a strange way of treating you, you thought. Blessing you with an heir to your husband, and, simultaneously, remaining to provide you with solitude throughout the entire way.
Not long passed after you gave birth, that war had finally subsided, moving from Dragonstone to King’s Landing with a small babe in your arms. Queen Rhaenyra had made peace treaty with the Greens, allowing her to claim her birthright, the Iron Throne, for once and for all— bringing a wave of relief, tossing aside a hefty weight burdening you.
Of course, just one small bit of a burdening weight had been removed from your life, and you dared to say, it was the most important heaviness lingering on the atmosphere— yet, you still had your own issues to solve. Moving all by yourself with a small baby boy towards the Red Keep wasn’t an easy task either, it simply stirred the occasional anxiety you suffered, along with bitter loneliness.
Those series of events happened in, what you considered, to be such a short time lapse— barely allowing you to process your wedding ceremony, the looming tension between you and his previous betrothed, not being able to have properly bonded with your husband as you married for mere alliances, having very little bonding with your mother-in-law, living in a whole different place from one day to another, having a babe, and moving once again this time with your child after the peace treaty...
... And you could keep naming each, and every single one of the little things that provoked an asphyxiating knot on your throat; one you had to bitterly swallow and keep to yourself. How could you not be overwhelmed with the circumstances?
You had grown used to being alone, with only the company of your little boy to keep your sanity hanging from a fragile, fraying thread. You briefly, and very feebly managed to interact with the rest of the members of House Targaryen— but you never throughoutly engaged in a deeper bond with them, or were often seen walking around the large halls, once the war had finished and you moved to the Red Keep.
The war had passed immediatly after the peace treaty with the Hightowers. No usurper on the Throne, no more dead men and innocent people— and all the burden you carried behind of you now, was that of the lurking solitude haunting you. It was just your small, sweet boy and you to spend time together; the one whom you found some warmth, despite still being practically a babe. Though, you couldn’t occasionally help but long for the company of anyone else from your new family.
At the present moment, you spent time on your private chambers. your little boy rested on your lap, as you quietly sat on the ground. On his hand, was a dragon wooden toy which he played with— making some cooing sounds. He had been your only companion for the moment, managing to spare you from any feelings of loneliness from the moment you had learned you were with child, being the one you often spoke to despite not receiving back an answer.
A faint grin graced your lips, with your hand gently caressing the back of his hair. You craned your head gently, releasing a soft chuckle at the sight of your boy engaged into his own world. You both were almost headed to sleep, but you preferred to spend some more time together— enjoying the quietness of the night, and the peace that came along.
The stillness looming in the atmosphere had been interrupted by a soft knock sounding twice against the wooden doors of your chambers. Raising your sight curiously as your boy remained playing in your lap with the wooden dragon toy. Not often having many visitors at the late hours of the night, you softly muttered “Come in.”
The door was gently swayed, revealing to be your Husband the one who knocked, closing the door behind him— which, it wasn’t a common occurence, for him to visit you in your chambers. The constant duties of the eldest Velaryon prince, on his role of being his mother’s heir to the Throne, were more than time-consuming; occupying the entirety of his attention.
But of course, with you being his wife, mother of his son, having shared little to nothing — plus having married only for alliances — and having some previous marriage problems regarding his broken betrothal, could only burden his thoughts. You had done an important effort to be a proper wife to him, one that couldn’t pass unnoticed.
You married to support what his mother fought for, you managed the notorious tension there was between you and his previous betrothed— you had given him a son, birthing all by yourself, and moved to Dragonstone, and then the Red Keep all by yourself, as well; only for him to spend his days focused on what was asked of him, leaving little time to even pay you and your baby son a short visit.
Guilt was overriding him in a constant, haunting manner. It was only natural for Jacaerys to be consumed by his preoccupied feelings towards you. Perhaps, you didn’t often engage or bond together in a convenient way, and you might’ve had troubles before when it came to discussing about your uneasy relationship with Lady Baela— but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you, much less notice your strenght in every sense.
It was only fair to show his appreciation, and his concern for your wellbeing.
“Hope I’m not troubling both of you with my presence?” Jace said in a lighthearted manner, with a faint grin appearing on his rosy lips, tilting his head briefly. His presence had been quite a surprise for you, and that expressed on the looks in your features, along with some tension in the air— not being used to being visited by Rhaenyra’s heir, your husband. Which, if anything, it deepened the looming guilt on him.
You shook your head gently, looking down at your son timidly, using your index finger to delicately caress him on his cheek. “Not at all, we were spending some time before heading to sleep.” you muttered in response. “Is anything the matter? Has something happened?” you inquired with slight concern, furrowing your eyebrows, lifting your gaze once again, staring into his dark coffee eyes. The innocence on your features were most beloved by him, managing to properly appreciate them as, now, it was just the two of you in the room— no duties in between, no one else to bother you.
Jacaerys shook his head. “Nothing’s the matter, fortunately.” he answered, with a tone of relief. His lips frowned for a split second, thoroughly processing his words before continuing. “I... Simply wished to pay you, and our son, a visit— as I haven’t been able to do so lately with my duties as my mother’s heir.” his eyes lingered on the ground shyly, before returning to stare at your own. “I wanted to know if you were doing alright as well, and if you felt comfortable around, of course.”
The expressions on your face softened leisurely. “Oh,” your lips partly opened in surprise, stuttering for a moment, before closing them rather quickly. You had been momentarily taken aback by his unexpected statement, as you had never shared a private moment like this with him before. It had been a situation you would have never guessed you would ever experience, yet, here you were— and it felt as if the world surrounding you stopped for a second.
You swallowed thickly, looking down over your boy, who stared at his father, and then at you. “Keep playing with your toys, my love. I will be right back.” pressing a smooch on your son’s forehead, you carefully moved him so he would sit on the rug decorating the room beneath both of you. A wide, almost toothless smile graced his features, before continuing to play with his own toys as you stood, and approached Jace.
It was almost admirable how much of a dedicated, loving mother you were, Jace thought to himself, staring at the scene— with a grin helplessly increasing on the corner of his lips. Your hands turned into fists, meekly fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. You almost couldn’t stare at him in the eyes, allowing him to notice as well a growing fluster in your cheeks.
“I-I’m... Doing quite alright.” the words came off whispered, and stuttered, from your lips, “We have been managing together all this time, after the war.” you mentioned, staring at your boy — who was absorbed into his own innocent world — before returning to stare at Jacaerys. “Thank you... For asking.” the eldest Velaryon smiled sweetly at you, noticing how you very faintly stared at him in the eyes.
“I’m quite relieved to hear so.” he replied back, in a low, casual tone, continuing to offer a kind grin to you as his eyes guided themselves towards his baby boy playing in the background. Brief moments of awkward silence passed, with a palpable tension in the atmosphere.
You had been given little time — to not say , none at all — to bond with each other, before your wedding ceremony. You knew nothing about one another, and it could only be expected that you would be awkward in each other’s presence. But now that the war had ended, the possibility of engaging in a proper, sweet manner with each other was now given. You could softly hear Jace take a deep breath, before continuing to talk with you.
“I came to visit you to offer my apologies, as well.” furrowing your eyebrows, your stare darted at his own— which lingered on the ground, noticing a rosy taint beginning to cover his cheeks. “What for?” it was a rather innocent ask, or at least, Jace considered it to be that way. With a lingering guilt that weighed constantly on him, offering his apologies felt very little with everything he actually owed you, after all the things you had done for him.
The heir nibbled on his lower lip for a moment, allowing himself to properly process in words each and every single little thing he had to thank you, and apologise for. “For many things, I dare to say.” he scoffed in a teasing way, provoking a frowny grin to grow upon your lips, as you kept delicately fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in a discreet manner. “One of the things I would like to apologise for the most, is for... Not simply not visiting you, and our baby son due to my duties as heir— but for having given you a cold shoulder all this time, in a way.”
Your expressions began softening, not uttering a single word to allow him to continue. The looks on your face were almost puzzling to him, as it contained several emotions— all mostly ranging from surprise, to a... relieved one. But mostly, a shyly relieved look began expressing itself all across your features. “I never expressed to you my admiration for your strength and courage. Much less, I have given you my gratitude for marrying me and giving me an heir, all in order to gain new allies amidst war.”
“You have done everything by yourself. Moved to Dragonstone alone, birthed alone, and moved to the Red Keep after the peace treaty all by yourself, with our boy. I often scorn myself for not having done the slightest effort of accompanying you.” it was true. All this time, you had grown to be used only to the presence of your little child offering you solace, and company.
Hearing his words shed a light of understanding to the implicances of war when it came to the perspective— after all, being heir to the Throne is not easy at all, much less when your birthright is usurped. But for Jace, being an heir occupied with his duties, before and after war, was no excuse to give offer you a piece of his genuine love and admiration. If anything, he resented himself for not having visited you earlier.
“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t thought about you, or haven’t grown any more preoccupied. And I’m sorry for not having shown it earlier, when I should have. Your efforts have never passed unnoticed.”
A gentle sigh spurred from you, nibbling shyly on your lower lip, with your gaze meekly darting towards the ground. Hearing such statement coming from him felt almost surreal, considering each moment you spent alone, wondering to yourself if your husband felt mere disdain towards you after breaking off his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. You had to process the moment for several seconds, leaving a few seconds of silence to hang in the air until you gave your response, but you couldn’t deny that a part of you was satisfied to know his true thoughts about you.
“I would’ve thought you... Resented me for breaking off your betrothal, and occupying the place of Lady Baela.” you muttered timidly, maintaining your eyes gazing at the floor. His eyes widened faintly in surprise. Gods, your words didn’t help with the intensely growing guilt-feelings he suffered, almost as if your statement sharply stabbed him in the heart— how could he ever resent you?
You had nothing to do with anything. You simply did your required duties, what was asked of you.
Jace stood silent for a moment, “How could I ever resent you?” he began, a certain desperation, and disbelief, vibrating on his tone upon hearing your statement. It almost shattered him, knowing you thought that— and all because his mind was consumed in war strategies and responsibilities as heir. The tip of his index finger placed itself on your underchin, delicately — yet firmly — lifting your face so you would stare at each other.
His dark coffee eyes stared profoundly into your own, “I could never resent you for something that was not your choice, much less after all the efforts you did.” you swore you could feel a knot beginning to form on your throat, from both the overwhelming sensation of having thought all this time that Jacaerys disdained you, and from content. “The idea of breaking off my betrothal to Lady Baela and become used to your presence for alliances might have been complicated initially, but I could never resent you for it.”
“Quite the contrary, I have grown to love and silently admire you.” both his hands had gone to cup your cheeks affectionately, taking the moments of quietness to admire every inch of your features. That was, before his arms rapidly embraced themselves around you, tightly wrapping you into a hug. One of his hands went to the back of your head, interwining his fingers in between your hair, as his other hand softly moved up and down, caressing your back; nuzzling the tip of his nose against your hair in a discreet manner— finding comfort in your sweet scent.
For a moment, you stood there, being firmly hugged by Jace, as you leisurely processed the — quite abrupt — situation. Your eyes had widened slightly in surprise, only to feel your body relaxing a few seconds after the eldest Velaryon held you in the warmth of his arms, slowly giving into the embrace. Your arms delicately wrapped themselves around his own body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. A wide range of emotions came afloat at the moment, but all you could feel, was a gleeful sensation of relief.
What you had so longed for, had been finally given in your life— to seek and find comfort in your husband.
“All I can only do, is constantly cherish the lucky fact of your existence, I have never felt a single ounce of resentment, or hatred.” he muttered, continuing to nuzzle his nose against your hair in a loving manner, before firmly pressing his lips against your temple for several seconds. “I hope you can forgive me, and know that I’ll be visiting and spending time with both of you more often— because I adore you, immensely.”
The ghost of a soft, shy grin began growing on the corner of your lips. You knew everything would be alright, from now on— it would all be less dreadful, and less lonely, knowing that your husband would now be accompanying you in a proper manner.
The Gods did have a strange way of treating you, but all for an ultimate good.
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bunjywunjy · 1 year ago
Note
Hello Dear Friend.
I was in your country in 2019.I have gone through your profile and decided to go straight to the point on why i wholeheartedly contacting you.
My name is Mrs. Marion Gadsby from Thailand,Australian,79years,I have been diagnosed with Esophageal cancer .It has defiled all forms of medical treatment, and right now I have only about a month to live, according to medical experts. I have not particularly lived my life so well, as I never really cared for anyone (not even myself) but my business was my priority.
Though I am a very rich lady, I was never generous, I was always hostile to people and only focused on my business as that was the only thing I cared for. But now I regret all this as I now know that there is more to life than just wanting to have or make all the money in the world.
I Am very sick now and depends on machines to survive which I know one day one minute I will be no more , but before departing I have a fortune I will like to confined your position so that you can use it and do the humanitarian work which I failed to do when I had the grace and the time. I have willed and given to my immediate and extended family members ,but these last funds I would want to be useful to the poor and the needy. I don't trust any of my family members again because I don't think that they will deliver the fortune to the poor and needy. This is the main reason why I contacted you because I believe you will make it happen as I will instruct you in the future when the fortune is in your hands.
I want God to be merciful to me and accept my soul, so I have decided to give alms to charity organizations, as I want this to be one of the last good deeds I do on earth.
I cannot do this myself anymore. I once asked members of my family to close one of my accounts and distribute the money which I have there to charity organizations in Bulgaria and Pakistan, but they refused and kept the money to themselves and used it to buy flashy cars and big houses in the city. Hence, I do not trust them anymore, as they seem not to be content with what I have left for them. The last of my money which no one knows of is the sum of $3,000,000.00( Three Million dollars) my late husband was wealthy as an oil mogul, politician and other businesses, but he died in his private jet crash .WE CAN'T QUESTION GOD.
I will let you have 20% of his funds for your effort and time and the 80% should go to the poor and needy around you, especially those that are in war zones. Treat this message confidentially till it's done. I am waiting for your reply.
Contact me direct for more information. [email protected]
Mrs Marion Gasby. [email protected]
MRS MARION GADSBY FROM THAILAND AUSTRALIAN
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suguru-getos · 1 year ago
Text
୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧
-> Event Masterlist
Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation
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Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!
Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3
The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.
With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.
Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess
You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki
Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.
The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.
You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!
The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.
“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.
When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.
“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.
“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.
When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.
Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.
“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.
“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.
You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.
“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”
“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.
Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.
Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.
A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.
“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.
“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.
Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.
“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.
“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.
“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.
“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.
“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”
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frogchiro · 2 days ago
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I hear your low honor Arthur..... But consider......... High honor Arthur being an absolute gentleman and servicer. After all, can't have his little lady doing any of the heavy lifting, can he?
I am considering very carefully.
High Honor!Arthur who is all about chivalry and being a perfect (or as perfect as a rugged cowboy outlaw) gentleman for you, his sweet lil' lady♡
When I say HH!Arthur would do anything for you then I really mean it. Do you have to carry some heavy equipment? He's right there, wouldn't want the pretty lady to do any heavy lifting, no? Do you have to hunt or fish? He insists he will go with you, for extra protection.
It's not that he's misogynistic or thinks you're weak or unfit, God forbid; he saw what you can do with a revolver or an axe, you're strong and fierce and he admires every single thing about you, it's just that...he wants to be useful to you :(
He knows very well that you're perfectly capable of doing everything yourself, from chopping wood to hunting to taking down a bandit, but Arthur is all about being a provider and servicer and he wants to serve you, his pretty lady💔
He's huge, burly, rugged, much larger and stronger than you (and most people to be fair) but he would never use it against you, even in bed. Your pleasure comes first, it's his absolute priority and Arthur will be damned if you ever go unsatisfied when with him.
He will make sure to move his hips and try to grind against all the sweet spots inside you that always make you whimper and kick your legs in delight, his own pleasured groans load and clear, he needs to show you how much brain numbing pleasure you give him too after all :(
High Honor!Arthur is the biggest sweetheart and gentleman who would give his own life anytime for you, his love for you thrumming through his blood and he hopes so so much that one day you two will settle down in your own little homestead and have a family of your own♡
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queers-gambit · 8 months ago
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Let the Bodies Hit the Floor
prompt: what happens when Tangerine's little lady is targeted in their home?
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 9.1k+
note: this got away from me. like wtf is this plot, Cherry?
warnings: author still runs with Tangerine's name being Aaron and Lemon's being Brian. inspired by GIF, established relationship, Russian Mafia vibes, physical violence / assault, blood, character injury, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Tan and Lem standing on business.
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The skirt of the designer dress fanned around your thighs when you turned swiftly from the stovetop to a separate counter in order to collect the chopped vegetables. Light music filled the space between the sizzling of different dishes cooking, bare feet sticking to the linoleum floor of the kitchen.
"Right," your sweetheart, Aaron, announced as he jogged down the glass stairs while fixing his cuff link, entering the shared space, "know I hate t'do this, love, but I promise we won't be long."
You smirked, "Uh-huh, and where have I heard that before? Oh! That's right, when you - "
"Oi, oi, oi, you know I ain't mean to disappear in fuckin' Kyoto for 6 weeks, love," he repeated in exasperation, "please, stop holdin' that against me."
"I'm not," you sang in a singsong voice, dropping the vegetables to the stir fry you were preparing, "but you know, you say you won't be long, and then you disappear for random amounts of time."
"You know why," he sighed, buttoning his suit jacket as he closed the distance between you, "and you know it ain't my choice."
"Yeah, yeah, job first, girlfriend second."
"Not even close t'what my priorities are," he smirked, snatching your hand to twirl you around and tug you closer to face him. You grinned up at him, hands landing on his chest; letting his arms lock around you to keep you pressed against his impeccably sculpted body. "You look so beautiful tonight," he whispered, eyes flickering over you, "just love you in this dress. Could ravish you right here, right now."
"Yeah?" You cooed, "Recognize it?"
"Hm, feels rather expensive," he pet around your hips and waist, cheekily moving them around to grip both arse cheeks; causing you to gasp lightly, "thinkin' I must've gotten it for yah. Huh?"
"From Paris last month," you chuckled.
"Ah, yeah, I remember. Lemon was right hacked off we spent so much time shoppin', but no way was I gonna come home without something for yah." He sniffled and patted one hand in a gentle smack on your bottom, continuing, "Now, listen, sweetheart, I know tonight's real important to yah, so, I promise, Lemon and I will be back before the main course, yeah?"
You tisked, "Don't fucking call him that, you know I hate it."
"Apologies, lovely girl. Listen, I won't have my phone on, so, you need me, call Brian - "
"'If I need you'? See, now it's sounding like you're gonna disappear again, Aaron," you complained. "What the hell's this job anyway?"
"Nah, don't worry 'bout nothin'," he promised, "'cause we'll be back in time for your li'l dinner party."
"You know tonight's important for us - both of us!"
His eyes rolled, "Yes, yes, t'finally get your father's approval, right?"
"More like my whole family," you reminded with a roll of your eyes. "Goddamnit, I knew you weren't gonna take this seriously - "
"No, hey," he soothed, squeezing his hands to gently jostle you into silence, "tonight's very important to me, darlin'. I swear it, yeah? We'll be back in time, promise you."
"Good, you better."
"But in case, call Brian - "
"Aaron!"
He grinned, watching your own lips spread, "Jesus Christ, can't take a joke no more, can yah?"
"Maybe on less important days."
"Duly noted." The apartment's buzzer sounded, your boyfriend sighing, "Right, then. That'd be Lem - aht, ahem, Brian." He frowned, "Feel bad skippin' out on yah like this, but duty calls, baby."
"Mhm," you hummed, lifting on your toes to peck his lips. "Just be careful, please."
"I always am."
"You literally crashed a Bullet Train into an entire village - "
"Told yah, that was the Ladybug twat!"
"You also got shot! A centimeter to the side and you'd have bled out your fucking jugular."
"Again, the Ladybug twat."
"Potato, po-ta-toe."
Aaron chuckled, kissing you again, his mustache tickling your skin; groaning in annoyance when the buzzer sounded again - but for a prolonged time. "All right," he pulled back only to peck your lips again, "I'm off but I'll be back real soon. Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Good without me?"
"I have to be," you teased, petting the lapels of his suit jacket and readjusting his tie. "Go, before you give your brother a fucking aneurism."
"Right," he chirped, pecking your forehead with a loud smooch. Swiftly, Aaron reached over to pluck a carrot from the wok, hissing from the heat, "oh, hot, hot, hot!" You swatted his bottom as he stepped away, eating the veggie, knowing you hated when he sampled your cooking while in the midst of actually cooking. "Mh! Tastes divine, sweetheart, maybe a bit more garlic. Love you!" He called over his shoulder, dropping a quick wink.
"Love you," you repeated, smiling; feeling lucky in love. You watched him go; his curls slicked back, classic navy blue suit on to make the crisp white button-up stand out, his shiny dress shoes winking at you. With a sigh, you focused again on prepping an admirable meal for the evening, planning on hosting both your divorced parents, their partners, and three older siblings.
Obviously, as the youngest kid, any and everyone you dated fell under heavy scrutiny.
The plan was to shmooze them into accepting Aaron as your lover, something your father and eldest brother were specifically vehemently against. But you weren't a little girl anymore, they couldn't dictate who you loved, but you could do your part to make your contract killer boyfriend more appealing to your kin. Easier said than done, but tonight was about at least trying.
So, you cooked a series of dishes to present on the grand dining table your boyfriend had furnished your apartment with, yet never utilized. Humming to the music, you hopped around the cooking space, and about an hour later, the apartment's buzzer was sounding in an obnoxious echo.
Dusting your hands off, you rushed to the comms system and pressed the big green button that unlocked the door building's front door. You left the door to your flat unlocked for easier access, rushing back to the kitchen to finish plating dinner. Not a minute later, the door opened and in walked your family; bottle of wine in your father's hand and a bouquet of flowers in your mother's.
Your father, Edward, had his newest wife on his arm; in the tallest heels you ever saw and a dress made of sequins, being far too short for this kind of event.
You mother, Linda, powered walked ahead of everyone with her boytoy of the month kept a close distance to the matriarch. He was probably just a few years older than you - but you were dating a contract killer agent, there was no room for judgement.
Your eldest brother, Robert, or better known as Bobby, entered with an aurora of arrogance; instantly looking around and judging your home unfairly. You sister, Mabel, just looked stony and stoic; completely bored of that night already. Lastly, your brother older by just a single year, Jonathan, or John, or John Boy, followed behind your siblings, wearing a thick gold chain against a classless wife beater.
"Oh, I'm so glad you made it!" You squealed, opening your arms and practically skipping close to greet your parents and their partners. "About time, don't you think?" You smiled at your father, hugging him first and kissing his cheek.
"Well... Guess better late than never," he begrudgingly agreed. "You remember my wife, Crystal?"
"Of course," you tried to politely smile and offered the fake-blonde a greeting kiss to her cheek, "lovely to see you again."
"Thanks for the invite," her tired voice drawled; indicating she'd rather be literally anywhere else.
"Mum," you moved along, hugging and kissing her cheek, too. "You're look fit."
"Thank you," she sighed.
Looking to her boyfriend, you greeted, "Thanks for coming, Keith - "
"It's Toby."
You blinked, "Huh?"
"Name's Toby," he explained.
"Right, right, Toby, my fault," you apologized, ignoring the look he sent your mother as you greeted Bobby, Mabel, and John Boy.
After, your father stiffly asked, "So? Where is he? This boyfriend you want us all t'like so much, huh? Not even out here to greet us?"
"Running an errand, but he and his brother will be back for dinner."
Bobby scoffed, "So, we do all this for him and he's not even home? Wow... Real stand-up guy, innit he?"
"You're also here to see me, aren't you?"
"We see enough of you, we're here for your dumbass boyfriend you're so enamored with that you missed Christmas last year."
"Bobby," you warned, taking your mother's flowers and heading back into the open-concept kitchen to locate a vase and fill it with water. "You're gonna play nice tonight or I'm gonna be really pissed," you warned your family, "and I'll cancel the New Years trip."
"Woah, hang on," your sister, Mabel, interjected, "let's not be hasty, the night's only just beginning - no need for threats."
"I know," you smirked at her, "it's called incentive."
"Truly your father's daughter," you mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. Edward just mocked her and handed over the wine bottle; making your mother snip, "No drinks to offer us? Not a very diligent hostess, are you, darling?"
Her sickly sweet tone gave you a cavity, but this was simply how your mother behaved when around her ex-husband - all passive aggressive and holier than thou.
You pointed, "There's an entire cart behind you, there. Help yourself."
"Hm," she hummed, nodding, turning to make herself a hefty bourbon with Toby right behind her.
"Um," Crystal hummed, "do you have seltzers?"
You almost laughed but managed not to, "No, no, just win and whatever liquor's on the cart."
"It's a nice place you've got, love, if not overly expensive," Linda cut off anything Crystal might've said; complimenting you stiffly, looking around as the amber liquid was poured, "bit empty, though, innit? I don't see one single family photo, not a personable damn thing."
"Oh, well, Aaron and I just like the minimalistic aesthetic," you deflected; the truth being, Aaron was constantly on the move for his job, there was no real time or reason to decorate the flat. You began transporting the large dishes on the kitchen counters to the table, your other brother, John, springing into action to help.
To say it was awkward was the simplest way to put it. After pouring herself a second drink, Linda started to trade insults with Edward; both telling the other how pathetic it is to find younger lovers. Mabel rolled her eyes but listened carefully, ever the quiet mouse who opted to observe rather than be seen. Bobby was snooping through anything he could get a hand on; attempting to know Tangerine without outright meeting him yet. John Boy didn't care this way or that, happy to just be involved and set the table for you.
"Chow's on!" You announced, leading everyone to the table and take whatever seat they liked.
"You know," Bobby started, "think it's a bit weird."
"What is?" You asked, handing Mabel the steamed sticky rice.
Bobby gestured around, "The whole thing. I mean, I'm almost tempted to believe you've made this Aaron character up. What kinda man skips out on a family meal like this?"
"A man who has a very demanding job," you snapped, the table still passing dishes around to take their fill. "I didn't ask you guys here to fucking harp on him, I asked you to just give him a chance and get to know him."
"Why should we even bother?"
"Because he's important to me!"
"You honestly think this is gonna last?" Bobby scoffed, shaking his head and passing the vegetables.
"Of course I do, I know how strong my relationship is. What the hell do you expect me to say, do, think, or feel if Aaron and I get married, and my family's feuding with the groom - "
"I beg your pardon?" Edward snapped, making the table go silent. "You're gonna marry this bloke?"
"No, Daddy, he hasn't proposed or anything, but we have been together almost 7 years" you explained. "I just used it as an example. Aaron's going to be in my life for a long time, I'd really appreciate everyone getting along."
"I think that's reasonable," Crystal smiled.
"Oh, shove it, nobody asked you," Linda sneered.
"Could you maybe not be a raging bitch for five minutes?" Edward snapped, dropping the cutlery with a loud clatter. "Don't talk to her like that - "
"The trollop doesn't get an opinion on family affairs!"
"Now that we're married," he held up his left hand, golden band visible, "she does get an opinion. It's your newest toy that shouldn't talk!"
"I didn't even say anything, mate," Toby scoffed.
"I'm not your 'mate', silly boy - "
The table erupted in a busy and loud argument, you slumping back into your chair; listening to your siblings attempt to resolve the feud. You thanked yourself for making the conscious decision to have this little dinner party at home instead of a restaurant; knowing Linda and Edward were never able to resist a good screaming match, even if in public. You sipped your wine mutely, eyes darting back and forth between either sides of the table.
However, they were silenced when there came a pounding at your front door. Three distinct, punctuated knocks of a fist, your mind instantly jumping to thinking it was the police - nobody else knocked like that. You went rigid instantly, brow furrowing, your father asking, "Expecting more company, honey?"
"No," you shook your head, already out of your seat and heading for the door - when suddenly - it was kicked in. Your scream was shrill from shock. The force of the violent entry splintered the doorframe; knob colliding with drywall, indenting it from the jarring movement. You yelped in shock, trying to back up, but there came a flood of armed men that instantly rushed you. You were only briefly aware of chairs scraping on hardwood floor as your family leapt up in shock.
Long gone was the argument, your family mutually screaming in fear.
These intruders yelled in Russian, fanning out to gather you and your family in harsh grips; shoving everyone into the living room. You were forced to sit down, at least one armed man posted for each of you, the others spreading out and searching the flat.
"What's happening? What the hell is happening!?" Mabel squeaked through her huffy breath, the men exchanging a few words before one stepped forward with his gun drawn at the ready. "Please, there's some mistake! Please, please, why are you - what is happening!? You can't do this! We only - "
"You," one of the intruders spoke with a heavy accent and a thick, pointed finger, "quiet." From his utility belt, the Russian produced several zip ties, demanding, "Hands. Hands, together! Now! You understand, eh!? Hands! Your hands! Now! Right now!"
Another henchman barked in Russian, telling you to comply or things would get messy. "Just do what they say," you whispered, pressing your wrists together and presenting them. They were secured tightly, your parents, their partners, and siblings enduring the same, and by the time the last zip was tied, the other henchmen returned.
You identified what was reported: "He's not here, no trace where he went."
"No, hmmm," mused the man obviously in charge, "well, that's all right, his girlfriend is right here." Your eyes widened as the Russian turned to look at you with a sadistic smirk. "Heard he's real protective of you, likes you a lot. Huh? Heard he once broke a man's collarbone for just looking at you - must be very important, yeah. What do you think he will do when he finds you - ruined?"
"You're not gonna do anything," you seethed between gritted teeth, "because you know he'd kill you all. Now, there's been no harm done so far, so there's time to walk away and I'll guarantee he or his brother won't come after you."
The Russian chuckled, "Oh-ho! Hear that, boys? Good old Tangerine's domesticated now. Takes orders from his bitch, and boy, she likes to bark!" Other henchmen chuckled, a few picking at the abandoned dinner. "I think it's time we send him our message, no?" The leader grinned to his men, earning a chorus of agreement.
Your eyes widened when the man lunged forward and yanked you to your feet, yellowed teeth gnashing in your face. "Whole family can watch!" Another intruder barked, curating a wave of laughter, "Call it, uh, bonding? Trauma bonding?"
"Oh, I like that," the leader of the kill squad grinned.
You gasped when the Russian balled his fist and socked you directly in the diaphragm; winding you, bending you at the waist, and giving him the vantage point to rocket his fist upwards into your nose. There was a sickly snap, you whimpering when a different Russian shoved you from behind and forced you to your knees; three different men joining the relentless and savage beating. You were kicked, punched, breaking several bones, being spat on, shoved over, and made to bleed your own blood. Though you hadn't wanted to, wanting to appear strong and unfazed, you cried out when the pain became too much; heaving for breath and praying the next kick to the head was enough to knock you unconscious.
But you weren't so lucky and wishful thinking was simply that: wishful, not applied or actual. Your family begged and pleaded for mercy, flinching when you spat blood on numerous occasions; shoes squeaking when they stepped in the globs. Everyone helpless and powerless in the current predicament, no hero to swoop in and save the day; your family knowing they were yelling into thin air and their words fell upon deaf ears. They could only watch and listen as you took the brunt end of three angry Russian's brute strength.
The leader had lit up a cigarette, watching his men physically assault you with an air of entertainment and aloofness. This went on for several long, agonizing minutes; you eventually going limp. "Hm," he waved his hand through the smoke, inhaling nicotine, "enough, boys, that's enough. She gets it, she gets we mean business." His men complied and backed away from you, letting the leader kneel at your head on blood-smeared hardwood floor. "You tell Tangerine and Lemon who did this, huh? Yeah? You tell them for me."
You spat blood in the Russian's face, smirking in satisfaction when it hung off his nose in a humiliating display of your stubbornness.
"Ah, I see," he wiped the blood clear, regarding it on his hand before bare-knuckle punching your head back into the ground. You were instantly dazed, groaning, the man continuing, "Now that you got that out of your system, you will remember my name. Huh? Ivan, yes? You remember that? Ivan. Fucking Ivan Kostka, you tell Tangerine and Lemon Ivan Kostka did this."
"The fuck does it matter who you are!?" You whimpered, eyes burning and being kept screwed tight. "You're a deadman walking, nobody cares about your fucking name except whoever inscribes your tombstone."
"Because your fruity boyfriend and his twin took something very valuable from me," the Russian leered, "and I have come to collect it back into my possession. You tell them, Ivan did this to you. I want them to know they are not untouchable - not to me. Not to my men. Tangerine can try to protecting you all he wants, but there will always be a time and place to act." Then, he laughed, "Know how easy it was for us to get here? Huh? Bit too easy, I admit. See, we picked up Tangerine's trail and followed him here. All we had to do was be patient for our opportunity."
"Who the fuck is Tangerine?" John was heard whispering to the others, a series of shrugs replying. The Russian gave a new command and several men divided to use their weapons to wreck the flat you called home; tearing up pillows, smashing spider-web cracks to the windows, tossing plates and mugs, overturning a bookcase, throwing expensive crystal glasses to watch the shards scatter.
Ivan continued to explain, "Your stupid fucking family talk so loud, eh, it is miracle they are not in witness protection, huh? We see them at your door, and when you opened for them, oh, it was easy to, ehhh, just follow them inside. Yeah? And now, here we are," he smirked. "I am sorry about this, though. You've such a pretty face, I almost don't want t'taint it," he pet a finger down your bloodied cheek.
"Go to hell!" You hissed.
"Oh, I will be when the Reaper comes for me. Remember, tell Tangerine it was Ivan... Ivan Kostka did this," he gestured to your tattered form, "and that I want my Faberge Egg and little sister back or this will get a lot worse for everyone involved."
You coughed as the man stood, whistling sharply and commanding his men to follow. The moment they were gone, as your family erupted in panicked screams, Mabel raced for the kitchen and snatched up a knife from the counter. Returning, your sister carefully uncut everyone's ties, your mother gasping and dropping to her knees when freed.
"What have you gotten us into, you stupid girl!?" She cried, massaging her constricted wrists.
You manage to mumble before passing out, "Call Brian."
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Tangerine and Lemon had been on their own stakeout, tracking a gang of Russians accused of money laundering. He had forgotten to put his phone on the charger the night before, it dying and being left behind at his flat; so when there came a vibration, he knew it was Lemon's phone.
He hate the sound of the vibrations in the cupholder. "Oi, gonna fuckin' answer that?" Tangerine snapped, staring out the windshield.
"Uh, bruv?" Lemon turned the phone for Tan to see, guessing, "It's for you, I'm sure." The contact name displayed your home number.
Tangerine sighed and accepted the call with it on speaker, "Yeah, hello? Love? That you?"
"A-Aaron?"
"Linda?" Tan questioned in curiosity, hearing your mother's soft sob. "What's goin' on? What's wrong? Why're you calling? Where's Y/N?"
"Th-There's been an accident."
"What kind of accident?"
"The kind that involve angry Russians looking for some egg and someone's little sister? I don't know - "
"Oh, fuck me! Don't move, we're on our way," he rushed, hanging up. "Oi, fuck this, mate, get us back home," he barked at his brother, "we gotta get back now. Like right fucking now!"
"We can't just - "
"What? Leave our post?" Tan snapped. "Brian, you know where we are right now?"
He glanced outside, "Uh... Little Italy?"
"Fuckin' wanker," Aaron snapped. "No, this shipping yard is owned by the Kostka's - Russian crime family. You heard Linda, means the tip tonight was a set up t'get us away from the flat. They probably moved while we were absent. Now, c'mon, fucking hustle!"
Lemon connected the dots and started the engine, peeling away at a dangerous speed to navigate the city back to the high-rise apartment you and Tan shared. He couldn't explain why, but Tangerine could feel his heart in his throat; a sick feeling taking over at the thought of the Russians setting this entire thing up.
Why send he and Lemon to stakeout the shipping yard? Why remove them from the equation?
Upon arriving at the shattered front door, both men in pressed clothes came to a jarring halt, taking in the sight. The flat was a wreck, literal feathers from pillows still floating in the air, their dress shoes cracking over shattered glass.
Tan caught sight of your hunched body sitting on the couch. "Right, the fuck is this, then?" He demanded, striding up to where your family had surrounded you. "The hell happened? Swear t'God, I'll put a bullet... In... Whoever..." He trailed, pausing when he saw your state. Tangerine slowly squatted in front of you, gently trying to coax your chin up, "Lemme see, darlin', c'mon, c'mon, lemme see, c'mere."
When you met his baby blues, you could only watch as tears filled them - knowing they'd never fall. "I'm sorry," you whispered, throat soar from the beating; making you sound a lot hoarser than ever before.
"For what? You did nothing, love, nothing - couldn't have deserved this, now could yah?" He rushed to comfort, caressing your jaw in both hands to look you over. There was a long gash in your hairline that dripped racing drops of blood down your face. "This is my fault, I know it is, God fucking damn it. Who the fuck did this? Hey? You remember, darling? Remember anythin' 'bout these men?" But you were silent from shock. So, he addressed the room by barking, "Does anyone? What the hell happened here, tonight!?"
Your father cleared his throat before knocking back the last swig of his whiskey. "These Russian fuckers," Ed answered. "Big lot of 'em, too, all with scary lookin' tattoos and fucking guns. Some were automatic." He eyed your boyfriend, "Associates of yours?"
"Fucking hell," Tangerine looked up at his brother, "think they want the Faberge back?"
Lemon frowned, "Possibly, but that's only if - "
"Ivan," you whispered suddenly, Tangerine and Lemon both looking back at you in mild shock. "He said his name was Ivan and he wanted you two t'know there was no hiding from him. He wants back whatever it is you two took."
"Yeah, they want the fucking Egg," Tangerine's jaw flexed as he glared at the floor, sighing deeply, and then looking back at you. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm just glad you're alive and well-enough. Yeah? You're my priority, sweetheart, nothing else matters."
You sniffled, "I'm okay."
"Like hell you are," he shook his head, gently prodding around your bruised face and sighing, "look at yah. You're definitely not okay, sweetheart. Right, then, listen, we'll go to a safe house for the time being - "
"A what?" John asked incredulously.
"A safe house," Lemon repeated, "you know? Somewhere not on record to let us hide discreetly?"
"I know what it is - but why go?"
"Can't stay here, mate, it's compromised," Tan answered with a hardened tone. "Now, you gonna fuckin' stand there, questioning me, or go be useful and get ready to leave?"
"Tan," his brother offered softly, "lay off, they just watched our girl get the shit kicked outta her."
Tan nodded and looked back at you, "Yeah, all right, sorry, love, just a bit on edge. But I'm gonna fix this - "
Robert (or Bobby, he's also known as), scoffed a sarcastic laugh, arms crossed, approaching you and Tangerine. "You takin' the piss? Your fuckin' job is leadin' men t'my sister, breakin' in her own home, givin' her a beatin' meant for you, yah fuckin' twat! Yet that's all you got to say to us? That you're on edge?"
"What'chu want, then, bruv?" Tan snapped, standing to face Bobby. "Huh? Call it an occupational hazard, but just 'cause you wanna bring it up, know that we ain't never had no situation like this before. All right? Excuse us for tryna piece it best together."
"My fuckin' sister's still bleedin', and you're, what? Makin' it up as you go?" Bobby snarled. "You owe us a plan! Somethin'! Fuckin' anythin'! How the fuck are you gonna rectify this situation?"
Tan's mouth opened, ready to retort.
"All right, all right, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, no, no, quit it, cut it out, yah fucking ninnies!" Lemon stepped between them and forced distance between the two men. "That shit ain't gonna help us right now. We all need to think clearly, so let's try not to wind one another up. Yeah? Fair?"
"Fuck you," Bobby spat, "fuck the both of yahs, you're both responsible! Puttin' my sister in harms way! Fuckin' look at her!" He snarled and pointed, "Shakin' like a fuckin' leaf!"
"Yeah, all right, you what, mate?" Tan sneered.
"I'm not your mate."
"I'll just fuckin' handle this on my own - "
"Like hell you are," His brother interrupted. "They fucked with our family, ain't nowhere for them to hide."
Tangerine nodded, then asked, "How many men were here would you say? Ballpark number." It was quiet. "Someone better answer me!"
Linda sneered, "Some 12 or 15 men, most of whom carried assault rifles. Anything you wanna tell us, Aaron? Huh? Why were these men searching for you? What'd you do that was so bad, they hurt my little girl?"
Your boyfriend nodded and looked to his brother, stiffly nodding and stoically demanding, "Let's get fuckin' Biblical, then, yeah?"
Brian clicked his tongue and winked at his brother in agreement, Crystal handing you a bag of frozen peas to hold against your head.
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"You're sure it's safe?" You whispered, holding onto your boyfriend like a crutch as you exited the elevator.
"They didn't want our protection, love, 'cause the Russians are after us," Tan answered. "Easy does it," he whispered, opening the door to the safe 'house' he and Lemon kept in downtown London - not terribly far from your actual flat. "At's a good girl, slowly - slowly," he kept one arm around you, the other holding the door for Lemon, who carried several duffels. "Right, see? Nice, ain't it?"
You nodded, still relatively drugged from the hospital you just left. After begging them to come with you, your family outright refused, saying Tangerine and Lemon were bad news and they wanted no part in whatever bullshit was happening; even though it meant leaving you alone. So, Lemon packed up the flat while Tan took you to the hospital, meeting again at the skyscraper that doubled as a fortress.
"Here we are," he sighed, lowering you to the couch; left wrist in a cast, a brace on your ankle, concussion, bandages and gauze stuck to random open wounds that required stitches. "Right," he knelt in front of you, "you saw the lobby, yeah? Ain't nobody gettin' in here without clearance, you're safe. Yeah?" He pushed a strand of hair from your face, hating how it was still crisp from dried blood.
"Okay," you whispered with a nod.
Aaron sighed, "I'm so sorry, love."
"Not your fault."
"But it is," he frowned, "'s all my fuckin' fault."
"Did you really take a Faberge Egg?"
"It's what our employer wanted, so... Yeah. Apparently, it was a right dime piece, thought lost in one of the wars. Very exclusive - "
"Most expensive Egg made," Brian added, dropping a couple of the duffels. "And it's not in our possession anymore, love."
"Fuck would we do with Faberge?" Aaron rolled his eyes.
"Hock it," his brother answered, bringing grocery bags into the kitchen and setting them on the counters.
"And the sister?" You asked, eye once being nearly swollen shut now just red and irritated; looking at him with profound sadness. "What happened to Ivan's sister?"
Aaron sighed, wiping a hand down his face, "She was placed in witness protection, she's an informant f'MI6 and Interpol. They want her 'cause she's been spillin' secrets, gettin' business all topsy-turvy."
"They wanna kill her?"
"Seems so," he nodded, smoothing his hands over both your thighs, "but don't you worry 'bout nothin', yeah? We'll handle this."
"How?"
"We've got a couple calls to make," he alluded, standing to his full height but bending at the waist to kiss your forehead gently. "Try to rest, love, we'll be here a bit."
You nodded and watched him stride out of the living room, grabbing one of the duffel bags Lemon had dropped and brought it to the glass dining room table. He ripped it open as you sunk into the plush fabric of the pillows, but perked up when Brian came into sight. "Here, darling," he set a mug of tea to the granite coffee table in front of you, "just a bit of something for your nerves, yeah? You all right? Need anything? A pain pill, maybe? You look uneasy."
"I'm all right," you promised, trying to smile, but it came out as a grimace.
"Mhm," he sent you a look, grabbing the pharmacy bag. "Don't be a hero, just keep yourself afloat. Here," he handed you a little, round, white pill and the tea. "Bottoms up, huh?"
You half-chuckled and did what he said, settling again as he grabbed a blanket and tossed it over you. "How often are you two here?" You asked.
"Ah, usually when we're doin' recon," he answered, handing over the remote. "All the streamin' you could want," he winked, pointing at the TV.
"Oi, mate," your boyfriend called, "thinkin' we should call Kiwi?"
"To stay with her?" He asked, caressing the top of your head affectionately; grabbing another duffel and meet his brother at the table. The London Eye was visible from the window, creating a picturesque scene.
"Yeah," Tan answered, "she's good company, ain't she? Handy with a gun. Usually shoots first, asks questions later."
Brian shrugged, "Couldn't hurt. But I think we need t'call Moss... See what he and The Agency can tell us 'bout Ivan."
"On it," Aaron agreed, rapidly typing on a nondescript laptop. But he paused suddenly, looking up and asking, "You gave her a pain pill?"
"Yeah."
"She should eat with it..."
"I'm right here, you know!" You snapped. "I can hear you!"
"I know, doll, sorry," Aaron sighed, going to the kitchen and grabbing you trail mix - knowing opioids gave you the munchies. "Here, love, just wanna make sure you stay all right," he handed the bag over, dropping to the spot beside you with a heavy sigh. "Listen, uh, we're gonna have some of the lads come over t'help."
"Who?"
"Well, Kiwi's a lass, but she works with us sometimes. She's handy t'have 'round inna pinch. That all right?"
"I'm not one for much company right now," you frowned.
"Nah, don't worry, she'll entertain herself," he chuckled slightly, eyes darting around to take in your appearance. In a low whisper, he breathed, "I'm so sorry this happened."
"You've said that," you half-smiled, placing an M&M at his lips. He accepted the treat. "We knew something was bound to happen eventually, right?"
"Not like this, this ain't acceptable," he shook his head. "Lookit, Ivan's one of them nasty fuckers, traffics narcotics into the country using a series of shipping yards. He's got a whole army at his fingertips, plenty of money t'sustain an all out war if he wants."
"When was the last time you dealt with this guy?"
Lemon joined you two, sitting on the other side of the L-shaped couch. He worked on the laptop now, but sent a look to Aaron that begged him to lie. But often, Tangerine never could to you, so, he told the truth, "Last we saw him was some 6 years ago."
Your head cocked, "That's when we first started dating."
"Yeah," he smirked, stretching his arm around you to bring you in close for both your comforts. "Remember that week you couldn't get ahold of me? I told yah I was on some bloody fishing trip?"
"Mhm."
"We were in Colombia, fuckin' up part of his operation."
Your eyes widened, "Colombia? You mean, this Russian's in league with South America? The cocaine capital of the world?"
"Yeah," he sighed, "but it's taken him apparently this long to get shit straightened out - else he would've come sooner."
"Or he was waitin' until our guard was down," Brian chimed in, rapidly tapping on the laptop. "Intel says... Ivan's been in the country 'bout 3 months."
"And before that?"
"Uh... Looks like... Ah, fuckin' hell, he was in Spain, Portugal, Nicaragua, even fuckin' Trinidad."
"Sounds like he's made some friends," Tangerine frowned. You nestled a little closer, his arm contracting to squeeze you tight. "Send word t'Kiwi and Moss, ask Moss t'bring only The Jailbird."
"Who the fuck - you know what? I don't want t'know," you whispered.
"The Jailbird is a brutal fucker," Lemon chuckled, typing faster, "took out an entire fright train by himself with a single shotgun and only a couple rounds of ammo."
"Brian," Tan warned, shaking his head.
"What? 'S not like she's gonna say shit, you picked the most loyal girl in the world," he grinned, winking at you. "Right, love?"
"Mhm."
"That pain pill kicking in yet?"
"Not yet," you yawned.
"Right," your lover chuckled, handing over the mug of tea, "we've got some work t'do, you sit tight. Need somethin', anythin', just ask. Please," he frowned, "don't try t'get up."
"All right," you whispered, lifting your chin slightly with intent. He smiled and met you the rest of the way, pressing a gentle kiss to your split lips.
The lads went back to the glass table, setting up a network of tools and technology, muttering to one another as they did what they knew to gather as much information as possible.
About an hour later, there was a knock at the door that made you flinch. "It's all right," Tangerine rushed, but pulled his gun in hand, "probably Kiwi - "
"It's me, fuckers!" A female called from the other side.
Your boyfriend checked through the peephole and sighed, holstering his gun and opening the door. "Kiwi," he greeted.
"Tangerine," she rolled her eyes, strolling into the flat with her arms full of food. "I brought lunch! Know you fuckers aren't payin' attention to time and shit. Oh!" She grinned when she saw you, "Oh, my word, you're her! Wow, you're even prettier in person! You know, Aaron's told me all about you - "
"Fuck off," Tan snapped.
"Fuck you," she sent right back, "been askin' t'meet your lady for years now, now I finally get to."
"I wish it were under better circumstances," you offered softly, watching the lass with stark white hair round into the living room to set coffee cups and paper bags down.
"Oh, hi, hello, you gorgeous girl," she grinned, sitting next to you and hugging you softly. You were shocked, eyes wide, but hugged her back. "Oh, it's real nice to meet yah, heard all about'cha!"
"Really?" You asked when she pulled back, "'Cause I didn't know a thing about you until an hour ago."
"Makes sense," her eyes rolled, "them two never talk 'bout shit. Makes 'em good agents, but shit lovers. Huh?"
"I'd have to disagree," you smiled softly, defending your love.
"Yeah," she grinned, "knew I'd like you. Lemon!" She greeted in a cheer, standing swiftly to set one coffee cup out for you and take the rest over to the table.
"Hi, Key," he chuckled, offering her a hug. "Lookin' fit, aren't yah?"
"Just got back from a 6 month stint in the DR," she nodded.
"R&R or mandatory?"
"Rehab," she shrugged casually, "but not for me."
"Makes no bloody sense," Tan rolled his eyes.
"I was there, cozyin' up t'fucking Francisco Juarez."
"No fuckin' shit," Lemon laughed. "How was that?"
"The man's mental, but shit, he's got some balls of steel."
"Jesus Christ," Tan groaned. "Can we focus, please? Where's Moss? Anyone heard from him?"
"Mh," Kiwi nodded, swallowing a mouthful of coffee as you gingerly reached for your own; trying not to strain the shattered ribs you earned. "He called me on my way here, said he was on his way, just had to pick something up."
Lemon and Tangerine shared a look as Kiwi practically skipped back over to you. She happily struck up a conversation, telling you all about how she first met Aaron and Brian on some recon mission in Moscow - the three apparently all tracking Ivan. So, no wonder she was asked to assist on this little mission.
The man named Moss arrived not long after, dropping another duffel in the foyer and silently approaching Tangerine and Lemon. Kiwi waved the behavior off, whispering, "That's one of the bosses. Not a man of many words, just a man of action, yeah?"
You nodded in understanding, accepting the Tylenol she handed you and answering her 20,000 questions. You heard the three men muttering together, papers shuffling over the tabletop and the laptop dinging every time there was new information.
"Oh, holy shit," Lemon gaped at the screen, earning everyone's attention. "You lot aren't gonna believe this."
"What's wrong?" Moss asked, moving to his shoulder and peering over to look at the laptop. "Well... Ain't that interesting?"
"What?" Kiwi asked.
"Looks like Ivan's here for some wedding..." Lemon muttered, tapping on the return key repeatedly. "No shit!"
"WHAT!?" Kiwi snapped, making you flinch. She instantly apologized, "Oh, shit, sorry, sorry, sorry, love, I get a bit excited when outta the loop."
"Ivan's sister's gettin' married," Moss reported, "to the Minister of Defense."
It was quiet for a long moment, the agents stewing in shock. "Well, that can't be good," you whispered to Kiwi.
"Not entirely, just means our jobs got a helluva lot more exciting, though," she grinned, dropping a wink.
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Three days. Three bloody days, you've been confined to the safe house. You were under strict orders not to leave out of fear of retaliation, so you remained for Aaron's peace of mind.
Moss, Tangerine, Lemon, and Kiwi were preoccupied focusing on their plan of attack. They figured there be an altercation at the engagement party, designing a trustworthy team to help them infiltrate and keep an eye. The day of the party, you were curled up in bed, reading to pass the time, and when you noticed Tangerine leaning in the doorway, your book snapped shut.
"How long you gonna keep me here?" You asked. "Some of us have day jobs they need to get back to."
He smirked, "I covered for yah."
"How?"
"Said you had a funeral t'go to in the States," he eased, pushing off the doorframe and approaching your side of the bed. He grunted as he sat, sighing deeply, "Listen, sweetheart..."
"Oh, that's never good."
"Just listen," he smirked. "Tonight's the engagement party, so we're gonna make our move."
"Are you sure Ivan's gonna be there? That this is what needs done?"
"We got it worked out, love," he promised. "Just need yah t'stay here with Kiwi. Keep safe, yeah?"
You stared at him for a moment, cocking your head slightly, "Been meaning to ask - why refer to each other's codenames when alone, like we are?"
"Good habit t'have," Aaron shrugged, caressing your head and then petting a finger down your cheek softly. "Hate leavin' you like this, but I'm gonna kill the fuckers that dared touch you."
"I'm not usually one for violence or revenge, but in this case, go crazy."
He nodded and stood with a smirk, stooping slightly to press his lips against yours. There was a solemn tension in the air, foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, him whispering, "Love you, darlin'."
"Love you, too," you answered instantly. "Just make sure you come home, yeah?"
"As quick as I can," he swore.
You learned that day, you hated waiting. You despised being out of the know, having no connection to tell you what was happening on Aaron's side of things. Kiwi was a great distraction, though. She was chipper, talkative, wildly animated; sharing a joint with you, ordering take out that a security guard brought up, and making you watch all her favorite movies.
She checked her phone several times, eventually, you begging, "Any word?"
"Nah, don't worry," Kiwi smiled, "they usually don't give updates when on the job."
Unknown to you, on the other side of town, Tangerine and Lemon were changing into suits the hotel waiters would wear to serve the engagement party. Moss was in a nondescript white van, working surveillance, informing in the headset, "The Jailbird's in position."
"So are we," Lemon reported, nodding at his brother. "Ready, bruv?"
"It's gonna get messy," he nodded, cracking his neck and leading the charge into the event room with trays of champagne. He surveyed the room subtly, seeing The Jailbird working the catering table in a matching suit, and when the couple of the hour entered, it was showtime. However, before springing into action, the trio of trained and paid assassins had to wait for the first move else they'd blow their cover and alert Ivan they were onto him.
The future bride's name was once something traditionally Russian, now choosing to be Veronica, and her soon-to-be-husband, Gerald, was the very man who had established her witness protection. It was romantic, in a way, that the two fell in love; being naughty and a little forbidden, yet still tantalizing. Their families filled the room with the groom's colleagues, security lining the walls - yet being unable to do anything if the Russians decided to attack.
However, the moment Tangerine saw Ivan, he went rigid with anger. "Mate, hang on, don't do it - we have a plan for a reason," Lemon tried to warn, but sighed hotly when his brother stormed off. Into the comms system, he warned, "Heads up, lads, Tangerine's on the move. 'S bouta get real sticky, people, stay sharp."
Tangerine surged up behind Ivan, who was dressed similarly and indicating he, too, was undercover at this event. Tan felt his face redden with anger, tapping Ivan's shoulder, and when the Russian turned, he didn't hesitate to pull his fist back and launch it directly into Ivan's nose. It was the first punch thrown (literally) that spurred the other Russians into action.
People shrieked, heels clattered to flee, and security guards rushed to cover their employers; not knowing who the desired target was. Luck didn't seem on their side that evening as security managed to get Gerald out of the hall, but his fiancé, Ivan's sister, was separated in the stampeding crowd; gunshots making patrons scream in concern.
In their comms, Moss barked, "Veronica! Someone cover Veronica! She's the informant - get to Veronica!"
The Jailbird flipped the catering table to reveal several heavy-duty guns strapped for this very moment. He and Lemon made their selections, Tan preferring his fist; someway, somehow, missing getting shot by Ivan's men. But the Russian gangster was just as angry, fending off Tangerine and even getting a few punches in himself. All for nought, though, because Tangerine had the power of his anger propelling him; your face conjured in his mind, bloodied, making him hit harder - and harder - and harder.
"You! Dirty! Fuckin'! Scum!" Tan punctuated each word with a blow of his fist, keeping Ivan in his grip like a vice. "C'mere! You've done it now, haven't yah, you fuckin' bastard? Fucked up by touchin' my woman! I'll fuckin' gut you!"
Ivan's elbow cracked Tan's nose, making him stumble back a few steps. The Russian grinned, blood outlining his teeth, "She was real pretty, wasn't she, eh? I tried to leave her face for yah! Didn't wanna fuck that up too bad!"
"C'mere!" Tangerine roared, knuckles bloody. However, as he was winding up for another hit, one of Ivan's men tackled Tan from the side and knocked him into a banquet table - collapsing it.
The Russians were in an abundance, yet stood no chance when Tangerine got ahold of a handgun. The Jailbird preferred the larger shotgun, blowing gargantuan holes in people's chests; Lemon keeping it simple and just doing his job by taking out the enemy. It was Tan who was absolutely feral, sprayed in the blood of his enemies and sparing no life he came across; the party's occupants screaming in terror and trying to flee the event hall between gunshots.
"Tan!" The Jailbird barked, pointing off at someone, and when he looked, Tan locked onto Ivan again. The Jailbird located Veronica, trying to save her, but being unsuccessful when a Russian got to her first - disappearing from his line of sight as the chaos rampaged.
Growling, Tangerine started firing single shots to the heads of anyone in his way of his main target, but this time, the Russian saw him coming and was plenty prepared. The blade Ivan used cut Tan deep, filleting flesh; but did not stop the man wanting to avenge his love.
Bodies hit the floor left and right as Tangerine's anger swelled, there not being a single force in the world that could stop him now. Whatever Tan could get his hands on turned into a weapon, finding every single Russian responsible for what happened to you - the love and light of his life.
The engagement party was decorated with white table cloths and white roses, now stained and splattered in blood the longer the fight went. The musicians of the live band had fled, security encountering the Russian that had Veronica and shooting him dead, food covering the walls. Moss had tapped into the security cameras, informing his men when more Russians were racing towards the room; grunting when he threw off his headset, grabbed a gun, and left the van to take out anyone trying to get inside.
Lemon did his best to cover Tangerine's six, but the Russians kept coming in waves; far more prepared than they were that evening. Yet it didn't matter, their numbers might've been high but the anger Tangerine and Lemon felt was a gift from God Himself, spurring them to work harder and smarter.
Once inside, Moss brought The Jailbird to higher ground and strategically shot down their enemies while Lemon and Tangerine operated on the ground. When face-to-face with Ivan, Tan seethed, "You waited 6 years for a shot at me, would've thought you'd try harder."
"Don't need to," Ivan laughed, "I already got you!"
"Didn't get shit - "
"That why your girl's all alone? Don't worry, lad, I sent some boys to go deal with her. C'mon, then!" Ivan taunted, waving Tan in an antagonizing motion, weilding the 6-inch blade. As the two exchanged blows, Ivan laughed, "Never told me! Did you like my li'l gift? How I left your girl?"
Tangerine grit his teeth and used a chair to bash the Russian over his head. "I'll fucking gut you for touching her!" He shouted, people still squealing and screaming in fright.
"You stole my inheritance! That Faberge Egg's been in my family for generations!" Ivan roared, "And my fucking sister! If not for you," he grunted, taking a hacking swipe and missing, "she never would've opened her mouth!"
"Your sister, mate, fuckin' hates your guts!" Tan barked, kicking Ivan back and sending him crashing through a table. "She would've spoke even if we hadn't picked her up!"
"Bullshit!" Ivan snarled, swinging and his blade catching Tan's bicep, slicing shirt and flesh. "My sister knew loyalty! Until you rotten fucks showed up, kidnapping her, confusing her! Fucking brainwashing her!"
"She's the one who hired us, mate!"
"Liar!"
Tangerine earned the upper hand by flipping Ivan onto his back, dropping to his knees, and wailing his fist into the Russian's face. He kept hitting him, even when Ivan stopped moving; flesh tearing, meat flying, bones breaking, and blood spurting in every which direction.
Blood painted his face, droplets racing down to create streaks.
At the safe house, Kiwi was making tea when there came a series of distant banging from outside the flat's door. She met your worried eyes and pulled out a gun, holding a finger to her lips to indicate you to stay quiet. She checked the in-house security system, spying a few Russian Mafia members fighting through the security guards and getting closer.
"Right," she rushed, helping you off the couch, "you gotta hide and stay quiet, love, I'll handle this quickly."
"Handle what? What's going on?"
"They're here."
"A-Are we safe?"
"For now."
"Are the lads!?"
"We'll find out!" Kiwi stuffed you inside one of the closets, assuring, "No worries, I'll handle them, you just stay here. Aaron would kill me if he knew something happened to you on my watch."
You didn't even have time to register that she used his real name; finding no choice in the matter as she shut the doors, and through the slats, watched her brandish a gun. You flinched when you made out the sounds of a struggle and then several gunshots, not knowing who fired them, who was being shot at, or what was happening.
Tears of fear filled your eyes, holding your breath and just waiting with trembling appendages. You hated waiting. You hated not knowing. You hated the tension, the fear, the cultivation of stress.
When the doors ripped open, you gasped shrilly and stepped back into the wall, but calmed when you realized it was only Aaron. And then you realized - it was Aaron!
"Baby," you gasped, leaping into his embrace out of sheer relief; arms wrapping around his neck and being dampened with blood. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, you're okay - you're okay, you're really okay."
"Yeah, 's all right, love," he rushed, one arm holding your waist, the other petting the back of your head. "I'm all right, 's all right, I'm here. I've got yah, love, I'm here now. They're all dead, they're all dead, my love, we got 'em all, you're safe, it's all right. Nobody will touch you again - never again, sweetheart."
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You sniffled, pulling back to take both his cheeks in hand and frowning, "Is this blood!?"
"Yeah," he whispered, gently taking your wrists to pull your hands down. "But it's all right, 's not mine. I'm not hurt." He didn't let you answer, rushing, "Are you all right? Hey? Not hurt?"
"No, no, Kiwi - she protected me," you nodded, sniffling. "Where is she? Is she all right!?" You suddenly panicked, but Tangerine shushed you gently.
"She's fine, love, she's safe. Not a single scratch on her. Had most of the Russians down and out by the time we got back."
"And Brian?"
"Lemon's fine," he promised softly, "just cleanin' up in the other bathroom. Which," he smirked gently, "we should probably do the same. C'mon."
You agreed, hating the sight of blood on your man. When in the shower together, you got a look of the cuts and bruises he earned that night; knowing that despite him being the reason you were attacked, he was also the man who would protect you from anything and anyone. No matter the cost.
There was nowhere you were safer.
Watching you wash his wounds in spite of your own, Tangerine realized he didn't need to ask your father for permission - he was gonna marry you. Come hell or high water, there wasn't anything or anyone - be it Edward or Ivan - that could keep him from loving you the rest of his life.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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colourstreakgryffin · 9 months ago
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Hello! Could you do a SFW one with Alastor, Vox, Velvett, or others (separately) with a blind fem reader?
Ooh! Okay! I def can! Idk if you want it romantic or not but even so, let’s just see where this actually really cool idea takes us, shall we!
Alastor
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Alastor doesn’t really react much to when he discovers you’re blind. Well… that happens to people doesn’t it, though, he isn’t sure how you’re still blind, even coming into Hell. He was short-sighted as a human and now, it’s completely cured. Why are you so different?
Alastor won’t treat you like you’re helpless and unable to fend for yourself. He’ll only jump in when he thinks you genuinely need some support. He is a good boyfriend like that and he is happy to make radio effect noises to draw you back to him when you need the subtle push
Alastor is the type to accompany you everywhere, no questions asked. He’ll bring you place to place and let you feel around so you get familiar with the Hotel’s layout but most of the time, he’ll escort you where you need to go so you don’t get lost. He just wants to protect you… all the time, everytime
Alastor respects you. You have a genuine disability but yet, you never let it bother you nor does it hinder you so much, that you need a constant caretaker. You’re a lady of skill and diligence, you’ve accomplished so much. He’s proud and he likes to brag about his blind girlfriend being better than anybody else’s own normal girlfriend, even over his broadcasts
You bet your supple ass Alastor wants and tries to cure your disability. As much as he believes you’re beautiful the way you are, he’d prefer you be able to see so you don’t have to suffer all the time and he brings this up with you as much as he possibly can
Vox
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Vox is kinda meh about the whole fact you’re blind. He doesn’t like it but that also doesn’t mean he’d bully you for it. He’s kinda more disguising ‘I am worried’ under annoyance. He pretends to be annoyed by the fact you can’t see but in his mind, he’s worried you’ll get lost
Vox always has people escort you around, when he himself cannot, he needs you safe and he even hires security to ensure no random stranger can put their hands on you when you least suspect it. As his beloved but sadly disabled girlfriend, you’re safety is his top priority, alongside comfort when you are safe
Vox is kinda— no, very babying. To be honest, he babies you a lot because of your blindness. He is caring and he is doting, behind closed doors and he wants to ensure you’ll be taken care of so he babies you in all ways because of your disability. He’ll feed you, he’ll bring you to the bathroom, he’ll sleep with you
Vox always wants to hold your hand. It’s for both of you; for you to get familiar with his feeling and for him to know you’re right there and not going anywhere. Vox also doesn’t mind letting you feel his TV head, whatever helps you always recognise him, he’s happy with it
Vox, like Alastor and Velvette, brags about you but he brags about you on his television show, so live on the worldwide web. He’ll brag about everything you’re gone through and even announce you, proclaim you’re the better than any girl in Hell and that you’re hotter than any other girl in Hell
Velvette
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Velvette, for a critical and judgy woman, cannot bring herself to judge you for your disability. Yeah, she is the one who dislikes it the most since it means you’re stupid(Velvette mindset) but she doesn’t want to throw any garbage at the woman she really likes
Velvette likes to dress you. That way, you don’t have to worry about feeling on your clothing and she can make sure you always match her, stay up trends and be stylish. You’ll be the most beautiful lady in the Pride Ring and she’ll enjoy posting pictures of you online
Velvette actually feels really sorry for you so she offers her help regularly. She’ll offer her help for the smallest things, your echolocation isn’t working and you’re more than a bit stuck, she’ll be right there with her phone playing so you can always find her incase you two seperate but she’ll have your hand in hers
Velvette as the, backbone of the Overlord Vs, is more than willingly to get into a fight to protect you. Protect you from the minor disablist down the street to actual exterminators. She’ll never let anything put their hands on you and she’ll even fend off Vox and Valentino to leave you alone. She wants to be the only one touching you
Velvette will make sure you associate social media to herself so when you hear memes or music or a uploaded video, that means Velvette is nearby and she is very proud when she watches you approach her and cuddle her
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johnbrand · 3 months ago
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What Friends Are For
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"Something wrong, bro?"
“Well of course I noticed. My soles are pretty sore, man, so the longer you go without giving them any attention the stiffer they get.
“Oh, is this about your birthday again? Look, I’m sorry about not texting or coming over, I was too busy. It’s not like you were all alone.”
“You were all alone? Dang, must suck to be you. That would have never happened to me. The bros and I party hard into the night. Don’t you have like a family or something that you could’ve celebrated with?”
“Yikes, I didn’t realize you’re not in contact anymore. Yeah I kind of missed your coming out, but it couldn’t have been that bad. I wish I could’ve been there to back you up but I had an emergency, so I had to put my needs before yours. This total babe I had been flirting with for weeks finally got drunk enough to text me back. By the time morning came around, I had already dumped a load on her titties and two more right up into her–unprotected! Best part was she didn’t remember a thing, so in a few weeks she’ll be in for quite the surprise.”
“Right right, we were talking about you. So your father didn’t take it well. A few bruises too? Yeah, I got some as well, from the gym though. Been experimenting with some new weights but things got a little messy. Don’t worry though, one of my bros was spotting and able to save me from any real damage. Can’t be putting the ladies out of all this masculine perfection, am I right?” 
“Speaking of the gym, they are increasing the membership price in order to finance some new additions. Nothing much, but I'm short a few hundred bucks. Thought you could help me out, you know being that I’m your best friend and all.”
"Dude, what do you mean you 'don't know'? It’s not like I’m asking for that much! Do you even know what this friendship means for you? Or how hard it is for me to be tolerant with such a whiny faggot?”
“Yes, I know I said I would stop trying to use that word. But I did not say it was my first priority, as apparently this friendship isn’t for you. Stop being so selfish, man.”
“See, wasn’t that much easier? You can just Venmo me. In fact, you should make it a recurring payment, that way I don’t have to ask again and then we can skip this whole debacle in the future.”
“Trust me, you won’t be needing that money in the future anyway. What would you have spent it on otherwise? Probably something to stick up your butt, right?"
“Why would you need to buy new bedding? This stuff works perfectly fine. Soft, expensive, and plushy; I always love laying on it. And if anything, my funky gas has only made it more valuable. You know, other fags online buy my sweaty gear, they even beg for it. You should consider yourself lucky that I fart on your bed for free. That’s what friends are for, right?”
“Yeah yeah, no more fag-talk, whatever. Now that your pity party is over, let’s get to work, huh? I’m gonna be out partying with some bros later; you wouldn’t like it, closest bros only. So how about you put those hands of yours to good use, cause these Size 14s are feeling tight! You know, I could get lucky tonight. Pfft, who am I kidding–of course I will!”
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starseungs · 7 months ago
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lunchtime tea, served by yours truly. ksm.
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kim seungmin x fem!reader — getting dragged over to the student council office instead of the cafeteria was far from your lunchtime plans. too bad seungmin seemed to think otherwise.
genre/s — fluff, humor if it counts, historical fantasy, academy au, duke's son!seungmin x marquis' daughter!y/n • 1.3k words
warning/s — petty noble disputes, seungmin implies a nepotism plan (laughs nervously), both of them are in their second to the last year of academy = they're both around 21 !!
note — here's a short fic i whipped up as i finish take a shot ! yes, its inspired by those rofan manhwas with academy arcs/settings. im obsessed with those ngl
2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.
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“Would it really be such a crime to enjoy one peaceful lunch session, Your Grace?”
You sank down with a huff on the smooth velvety sofa propped in the middle of the spacious office room, not paying any mind to the way the door shut with a soft click despite your strong swing to open it earlier. A pair of footsteps other than yours echoed in the space, the flat, heavy heels of the figure’s shoes clacking with strong authority. Yet, you remained unfazed despite the strong aura permeating the enclosure—choosing to stand your ground with a click of a tongue.
Seungmin sighed at the sight of your demeanor. 
“And I believe it would be against academy ordinance for you to call me by that title within the campus premises, Lady Y/N.” He reprimands you with a low drawl before carefully taking a seat at his desk located front and center against a massive glass window, his silhouette strengthening as he leans forward to rest his arms on the desk. You could only whine in mockery at his reply.
“Boo,” you scoffed before crossing your arms and craning your head to stare at him. “Such a stickler for the rules, are you not?”
Seungmin hummed. “I suppose you may be right, but could I also offer you information on my father’s well-being?” He says with a tone implying sweetness, even if you knew otherwise. 
“The Duke is alive and well—yes, I am aware,” you pressed for a smile as innocent as you could manage, enjoying the way Seungmin’s formal facade fell apart slightly before getting gathered up once again. The young Lord cleared his throat before continuing the questionable exchange between the two of you.
“Therefore, we should not be having this conversation in the first place.”
“However, you are the heir to the dukedom, if I recall correctly?”
“Yes, you do.”
You then brought your hands together in a resounding clap at his answer, signifying a remarkable conclusion. “Then it is the same thing.”
Seungmin groaned tiredly at your unbelievable words. “It is clearly not—” he suddenly paused mid-sentence. You watched as his eyes narrowed with an inquisitive glint before he took an obvious intake of air. “I’m getting the slight inkling that you are doing this to raise my temper.”
A prominent laugh bubbled its way out of your throat. “I do find that side of you quite charming, yes.”
“I will pretend to not hear your comment, My Lady,” Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to subside his growing stress. “And I would like to inform you belatedly that a peaceful lunch should be the last of your priorities at the moment.”
The involuntary squawk that came out of you voiced your offense. “Well, this is surprising news, as I have not received any notice about a new dietary restriction!”
“It is not—” Seungmin caught himself again. You grinned mischievously at his obvious struggle before collecting yourself when you felt a pointed glare being sent in your direction. He exhaled heavily, “Proceeding with the matter at hand, are you aware of the number of complaints the Theta group has placed upon your name?”
“I do believe there has not been a single soul in this academy who has not,” you hummed in acknowledgement.
“My Lady, forgive me for being rude; however, the answer I was hoping for was to be about how you are planning on addressing this issue.”
“Oh,” you blinked. “Then, I plan to do nothing about the issue.”
A small thud was heard from Seungmin’s direction, prompting you to look over to see what had caused such a sound. Low and behold, the sight of the academy’s best student holding his head down towards the polished mahogany desk in defeat—rendering you unsure of what to do next. There had only been a few times in your entire lifetime that you had seen Seungmin completely shatter his dignified demeanor, and you had known the man since you were six. Now you fear that you had actually crossed a line. 
“Y/N,” he raised his head ever so slightly to lock eyes with you, his next order coming out as a plea. “Just explain why you poured a cup of tea over Lady Colette’s head.” 
“Then forgive me as well for my words. However, in my perspective, Theta is nothing but a pathetic excuse for an institutional social group,” you sighed, remembering the events of the tea party yesterday. “I do not know why they still prove to be the most popular social group for ladies when the Zeta group has always been better. Theta are barely anything worth more than a babble of obnoxious noble daughters who prefer to place themselves on a higher pedestal than they deserve. Lady Colette was terrorizing a freshman from a country-side barony. I only did my best to stop her, considering the fact that mere words seemed to hold no interest for her.”
Seungmin raised a brow. “Quite an interesting way of describing them, don’t you think?”
“Well, I did send my apologies before doing so, did I not?” You smiled back as part of your reply, proudly this time. Seungmin could only scoff, albeit greatly amused.
“You have got to stop trying to outsmart me in times like these, Y/N,” he said, standing up. “You of all people should know how much I lack the ability to harbor ill feelings towards you.”
It was your turn to raise an eyebrow at his surprisingly favorable response. For holding the most coveted position of justice available for students in this academy, Seungmin was surely pressing less strongly on your faults. Perhaps it was a good thing that you still made sure to cool the tea before you dumped it on that Marquis’ pompous daughter.
“Playing favorites, are we now, Mr. President?”
Seungmin laughed openly this time. Talk about a change of mood. “I see that you have now chosen to switch to a different formality, yet again,” he mused on his way towards your figure on the couch. “See, you wouldn’t have this much trouble with other noble ladies if you just joined the student council.”
“Here you go again with your offer,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You of all people should know exactly why I cannot take a position in the council, Seungmin.”
“In my opinion, it would be seen as a reasonable training ground for the future Duchess.”
“You just like the way I do paperwork!” You expressed disbelief at his plan’s implication. “And high society might as well burn me into ashes, thinking that I take advantage of my position as your betrothed.”
Seungmin sighed dreamily, completely disregarding your latter comment. “I do love the way you do your paperwork. Such a perfect pair to my work ethic,” he says, sitting comfortably beside you with a relaxed exhale. “Yes, I genuinely do not see what is so wrong about the offer.”
“Seungmin,” you scowled at him. “Do you wish to put a stain on your reputation?”
“Oh, look at you scolding me as if we had already stated our vows,” Seungmin pinched your cheek in a tease. You attempted to push his hand away, only for him to grab it and intertwine your fingers, leaving you breathless as he placed a feathery kiss on your knuckles. “My dearest fiancee, I do not care what others may think of me. If I am able to, I will give anything you ask for without a silver of hesitation.” He gazed directly at your eyes, pupils swimming with unknown desire.
“My Duchess only deserves the best, after all.”
You pursed your lip at his intimate actions, feeling your stomach do crazed flips at his undivided attention. “It is quite concerning how biased you seem to be when it comes to this matter, Mr. President,” you gave in, letting yourself fall on his broad shoulder. “What have I even done to warrant your unyielding obsession with me?”
Seungmin’s chest rumbled in delight, the lull comforting your mind glazed over with his presence.
“Exist. Now, what do you think of becoming Vice President next year?”
“Serve me tea first, and I'll think about it.”
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mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶
@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix
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lottiies · 5 months ago
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one of his many journal entries about you
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arthur morgan x fem!reader and male!reader <33
i won’t lie…i have 45 hours on the game and i’m not even past chapter 2 (っ- ‸ – ς) why progress when i can save myself the pending heartbreak and instead admire this pretty man and his journal sketches?
anyways…love all you arthur morgan kissers ♡
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“my body doesn’t feel right as of late. my hands are too rough, my face is all wrinkled up, and my voice isn’t all that pleasant. if only i could sound as smooth as i write.
never been the most confident of men, but well, this body’s what i’m stuck with. used to go months on end without shaving until i realized my beard looked like bills. how embarrassing. miss grimshaw, the strong-headed woman she is, knocked some sense into me too. well…more like slapped me.
shaving makes me look more approachable, and that’s not really a good thing with my reputation. but, i did it anyway and spent a pretty penny on the barber up in valentine’s…had to pay a bit extra because of the drunken ruckus lenny and i caused there last time.
if my heart hadn’t been captured, maybe these worries of mine wouldn’t even exist.
oh, the ridiculous things love does to a man…”
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꒰ fem!reader ꒱
“about as beautiful as the stars above; a woman so otherworldly that sometimes I have to look away. she shines too brightly for these tired eyes of mine. i suppose that’s for the best, ain’t it? a man like me, the walking embodiment of sin, isn’t worthy of such a loving lady.
but that doesn’t keep her away. she often asks me to recount some of my adventures, and i hesitantly do so, fearful she’ll think me a bad man. craziest thing is, she looks more worried than anything else whenever i do as told. telling me to be more careful with that honey-like voice of hers. could listen to it all day. it’s like a balm to the soul.
can’t keep myself away from her either. doesn’t matter what she’s doing, i always find myself wandering over to her. i don’t usually have trouble sleeping, i’m like some rock when it comes to it. but she’s occupied my mind too much lately, falling asleep is difficult. like right now. should be sleeping, but i’m not. just up wondering about the ifs and hows.
i’ve been saving up some money so i can go get her something real nice, maybe a pretty dangly necklace. could just steal one, but i want to prove myself to her. she deserves the best, not something that belonged to some other stranger.
god knows i’d do whatever i can to keep her safe and sound. i’d die for her. funny thing is, i considered myself to be a selfish man before breathing the same air as her.
i can say with absolute certainty that i would give up everything for a future with her.
if she’d have me.
now, this fool’s about to try and sketch her.
not sure if i can encapsulate her beauty onto a page, though.”
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꒰ male!reader ꒱
“i fear I’m going mad. i never thought i’d feel this way about a man before. then again, pursuit of romance has never been a priority in my life. he’s one of a kind, something about him makes my palms feel all clammy.
he never leaves my head, every inch of this brain of mine is consumed with thoughts of him. his grin, the way his hat perches on his head, the stories he shares ‘round the campfire.
i’ve come across many men on all my journeys, but his handsomeness is unmatched. and he’s different. doesn’t nag me like dutch or get on my nerves like micah, but he isn’t just a brother like some of the other folks here.
i’ve been a bit too scared to drink these days. you know me, i spill my guts out and say stupid things like a damn fool when i get like that. wouldn’t know what to do if i were to sputter out how fine of a fella i think he is, or how grateful i am for him. is this only a special friendship? no, i don’t know how to describe this.
well, yes i do, actually.
love.
my fingers trembled while writing that.
some may call this spark a sin, but going down an altar with him would be a taste of heaven itself. that wish is too far-fetched though.
all i ask for is a sign. just one. maybe i’m misreading the glimmer in his eye, or the way the bastard slings his arm over my shoulder and sings after he downs some moonshine.
weird how life works, isn’t it?”
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dark-frosted-heart · 6 months ago
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He Doesn't Know That I Turned into an Animal - Roger Barel (Part 1)
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As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. None of my translations are proofread until a day after posting
(Mm…I should get up and get ready)
It’s been a while since I had a free day. It was such a nice day, perfect for going out.
…And then I felt something squirming about on my butt.
(Huh? There’s something weird about my body…)
Feeling uneasy, I got out of bed and the moment I looked in the mirror, any morning drowsiness left disappeared.
Kate: Arf…arf?! (Wha…What the?!)
In the mirror was an adorable golden-brown corgi with round eyes. 
What I felt moving on my butt earlier was a short corgi tail.
(I’m a dog?! What do I do…Am I dreaming?!)
(I need to get help…!)
--
(I’m out in the hall now, but who do I go to…?)
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Liam: Huh? It’s an adorable little doggie! What’s it doing here?
Harrison: Did someone bring it here…?
Kate: Woof! Woofwoof! (Liam! Harrison!)
Glad to see the two, I rushed over to them.
Liam: Wow, it’s so friendly and cute. I wonder if it’s lost?
Harrison: It’s a corgi, right? Roger’s “Ale”* is also a corgi.
Liam: …Then I wonder if this pup’s Roger’s corgi? Let’s ask. Are you Roger’s?
Liam crouched down to meet my gaze.
Kate: Arf…arf! (No…I’m Kate!)
Liam: Hm. Sorry, I don’t understand, I don’t speak dog.
Harrison: …Then why’d you even ask?
(I’ve really turned into a dog…)
It’s not due to Alfons’ power or a dream…
(How did this happen…?)
Harrison: For now, let’s bring it to Roger.
--
Liam: Roger, you here~?
Roger: What, you get hurt again?
When Roger turned around and saw me in Liam’s arms…his eyes widened with surprise.
Roger: You…!
(Maybe Roger realizes that it’s me?!)
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Roger: You’re soooooo cuuuuuute!
Roger smiled widely and began petting me everywhere.
Roger: Who’s a good dog? You are!
(So aggressive…!)
Roger: You’re so cute…Can I give you a kiss?
Kate: Grrrr (Ab-so-lute-ly not!!)
Roger: No? Then can I smell you?
(What kind of compromise is that?!)
In my confusion, Roger buried his face in the neck and took a big whiff.
Roger: Ahh…the smell of dogs…! The best medicine out there!
(I’ve never seen Roger like this before…)
Roger: Phew… So, who’s dog is this?
Liam: I thought the little one was yours. It’s not?
Roger: Nope, not ours. We don’t have a lot of dogs. So…Are you lost~? You poor thing~
With a smile…No, with a lovestruck look on his face, Roger started petting me again.
He was probably concerned about me being a lost dog…but petting was his priority.
(This is my first time seeing Roger be so affectionate with a dog, and it surprised me at first. But now…I don’t know…)
(It feels so good getting pet…)
Liam: Ah, the doggie’s wagging its tail! Looks like it likes Roger.
Roger: Oh…you like me? Haha, you’re so cute!
He suddenly lifted me out of Liam’s arms.
Maybe it’s because he’s so used to handling dogs, but the way he picked me up gave a sense of stability and security.
Roger: Hmm…
Kate: …?
Roger: You don’t have any, so you’re a girl.
Kate: Yip! (Don’t look!)
Roger: Oops, sorry.
(Even though I’m a dog, I can’t believe you looked at my butt…)
(It somehow feels like I lost something important…)
Roger: Don’t look so down. I won’t do it again.
Harrison: So, can you look after the dog, Roger? We got a mission.
Roger: With a dog this cute, I can take care of countless of them. Oh, that’s right. Have you seen the lil’ lady? I wanted her to help out with an experiment, but she wasn’t in the dining room at breakfast.
Harrison: Nope, haven’t seen her.
Liam: She has the day off so she’ls probably sleeping in?
Roger: Then I’ll let her sleep.
Kate: Arf arf! Arf arf! (I’m right here! Here!)
Roger: I know. We gotta find your owner today, don’t we?
(You didn’t understand me at all…!)
--
And so Roger went around asking everyone in Crown about the corgi.
But I’m not a lost dog, so there’s no owner to find…
Roger: If no one knows you, then you must’ve wandered in from outside.
Kate: Awoo…(It’s not that…)
Roger: I’ll find your owner so cheer up.
Roger patted my head as if to make me feel better.
(Ugh…I really can’t resist this feeling…!)
My short tail started wagging and Roger smiled at the sight.
Roger: You’re getting used to me now. Will you let me kiss you soon?
Kate: Grrr! (No!)
Roger: Not yet…Well, a girl’s kiss should be saved for a prince, shouldn’t it?
(I wonder if Roger’s being so romantic because he’s talking to a dog…)
Roger: Well, since you’re from outside, there’s someone I want you to meet. Be a good girl and wait for a moment?
Kate: Arf! (Got it!)
Roger: Oh, a nice response.
Roger petted me, attached a collar around my neck, tied a leash to the stair railing, and left.
A while later…
Roger: Sorry for the wait.
Kate: Arf! Arf…(Welcome back! Ro…ger…)
???: Arf! Aarf! (Who’re you? Never seen you before!)
When Roger came back, he brought a corgi with him.
The corgi circled me in excitement.
Kate: A-arf…?! (The dog’s talking…?!)
???: Arf? Arf! (What’re you talking about? You’re a dog too!)
(That’s right, since I’m a dog now, I understand dogs…)
Roger: This guy’s Ale, my family’s dog.
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Ale: Arf! Woof?! (I’m Ale! What’s your name?)
Kate: …Arf (...I’m Kate)
Ale: Woof! (Nice to meet you!)
Roger: Ale’s got a habit of circling around any dog or person he meets for the first time. I brought him over from my folks’ place to have him check if you’re from around here… But it looks like it’s the first time you two are meeting. So…you’re not from around here. This is bad.
Roger scratched his head and sighed.
Roger: Nah, can’t give up now. Let’s go on a walk. Dogs know how to find their way home. Maybe you’ll remember on a walk.
--
Thinking I was a lost dog, Roger took me out on a dog walking route.
Of course, Ale was with us.
Roger: Anything ring a bell?
Kate: Awoo…(No…)
(I’m making trouble for Roger by looking for a nonexistent owner…)
(I need to work on making him understand that I’m Kate…!)
(And to do that…)
Roger: What’s up? If you’re running off like that, then…Do you know where your home is?
Kate: Arf! (Yes!)
As I ran down the road in this body of mine, Roger naturally followed after.
Ale: Woof woof! (I’m not gonna let you get away!)
And so, we arrived at—
Roger: …Crown castle?
(This is my home…so please realize that it’s me, Roger!)
Roger: The fact that we came back here…You really don’t know how to get home, do you?
(He still doesn’t get it…)
Ale: Woof woof! (I’m hungry after all that running!)
Roger: Can’t do anything else now… I’m sure you’re beat after today, so I’ll take you back to Crown.
--
Roger: Time to eat. You two, “stay”.
Roger left Ale and I in the dining room and headed to the kitchen.
(What will he prepare for us? Not human food, right?)
Ale: Woof woof! (Roger’s great at cooking!)
Ale sounded very proud when talking about Roger.
(Roger must’ve doted on him a lot while Ale was growing up…)
Ale: Woof? (You can’t eat until Roger gives you the ‘okay’, got it?) Arf! (That’s how you show respect to the cook!)
Kate: A-arf! (G-got it!)
Roger: Sorry for the wait. I made you two dinner.
(Roger’s cooking? T-this is…!)
He brought out plates of stewed meat and vegetables chopped into small pieces.
(It smells good...Looks delicious)
Ale: Awoo! (Come on, come on!)
Ale jumped around Roger’s feet as if he couldn’t wait any longer.
Roger: Haha, calm down Ale. I’m bringing you down to the infirmary first.
--
Roger: Sit, wait… Okay, go ahead!
At Roger’s signal, we started eating.
(I never thought this would be how I’d try Roger’s cooking…)
(It’s dog food, but it’s really food)
I was so mentally exhausted and the delicious food prepared with care filled my body.
Ale: Woof? Woof? (You haven’t finished your food. Need help?)
Having already finished his food, Ale nudged my plate with his nose.
Roger: Come on, Ale. You already ate.
Roger pulled Ale away, allowing me to finish my food in peace.
Kate: Arf (Thank you for the food)
Roger: You ate well. I’m glad you have an appetite. Now let’s clean this up and then…
Victor: Roger! Do you have a moment?
Victor came down to the infirmary and called out ot Roger with a serious look on his face.
Roger: Yeah. …You two be good and wait, okay?
After Roger and Victor left the basement, Ale started talking to me.
Ale: Woof woof! (Roger’s a great guy and a great cook!)
Kate: Arf (You’re right. I was surprised by how delicious it was)
Ale: Arf. Arf! (Right? Roger’s amazing!)
Ale sat proudly as if talking about himself.
Ale: Arf! Arf! (Oh! Let me tell you about the time I met Roger!)
~~ Flashback in Ale’s POV ~~
—It was when I was a small puppy.
Before meeting Roger, I lived with another man.
(I’m so hungry… It feels like I haven’t eaten in a while…)
Puppy: Awoo…(Hey, hey, is there food?)
I nudged at the man lying on the bed with my nose. But he didn’t move a muscle.
(Haven’t you been sleeping for the past few days? Why?)
(You’re cold. I guess I’ll warm you up!)
Avoiding the bottles of alcohol littered around the room, I jumped onto the bed and snuggled the man.
He usually got mad at me when I got on the bed with my dirty paws, but he didn’t say anything today.
(Hey, wake up already)
(If you’re so bored every day that you can only drink, then I’ll play with you)
How much time’s passed?
Just as I was about to pass out from starvation, someone pounded on the door.
Roger: It’s Roger! You there?! Don’t be so pessimistic about your life. I’m cursed like you— 
—Anyway, let me explain in person! If you’re pretending you’re out, I’m kicking down your door!
After shouting, there was a crack and the door broke, allowing a man with glasses to come in.
Puppy: Arf arf! (Who’re you!)
I circled around the man with glasses.
It’s a habit I still have, circling new people and dogs as a precaution.
Roger: A dog…? You’re so thin. Where’s your owner…
The man with glasses looked up at the bed and gasped.
Puppy: Arf! Arf! (He’s been sleeping forever! Wake him up!)
Roger: Ah, damn it! I was too late… If I came sooner, I might’ve been able to stop him…
Puppy: … Awoo…? (Do you mean he might not wake up again…?)
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Roger: Sorry I couldn’t save your owner…
~~ Flashback end ~~
Ale: Arf (And that’s how Roger and I met)
(It happened like that…)
Ale: Woof… (My previous owner stopped moving on his bed on the night of a thunderstorm) Arf! (I’m still scared of thunder so Roger covers my ears!)
Kate: Arf (That’s kind of him)
Ale: Arf? Woof! (Right? If you know Roger’s good points, then you’re a good guy!)
After that, Roger returned to the infirmary. 
Roger: Oh? You two are getting along well already? That’s good.
(...Huh? Why do you look so down, Roger?)
(What did Victor say?)
Ale: Woof woof! (This girl’s a good one, so I want her to be your wife!)
Kate: Yip!? (What are you talking about, Ale!?)
Ale: Arf! Arf! (Wife! Wife!)
I frantically chased after Ale who was spouting nonsense.
Roger: Haha, are you playing tag? It’s nice to see you so full of energy.
(Right now I’m glad Roger doesn’t understand dog…)
Roger: For now… Let’s go take a bath.
*Roger’s dog’s name is written as エール, which I’m translating as “Ale”
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double--blind · 1 year ago
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(SPOILERS) Andrew and plausible deniability, OR: mfer doesn't wanna be held accountable for his actions
This has been churning in my head for a while (I am mentally ill 🥴), but a large part of the driving force behind Andy and his actions is his aversion to blame. He sorta shares this w/Ashley (she's got quite a few rants abt how things aren't her fault), but I believe Andrew takes it just a step further.
I've seen many say this before, but from the start of the game, you'll notice that even beyond normal moral quandaries, Andrew's first objection to any horrific action Ashley proposes is usually a variance of "what if we get caught?". He objects not bc her ideas are ethically repugnant, but bc they could be found out as having done them, and he knows rationally that others know they're bad. This goes as far back as childhood with the Nina incident. He fears punishment and the threat of prison more than he apparently worries about what his crimes might mean for him as a person or what they might mean for the people that might be affected by them (save him and Ashley). This doesn't mean he doesn't feel guilt or have nightmares abt them, but they're not his first priority. Trouble's a pain to deal with, and the dude's low-energy.
In fact, most of his guilt seems largely self-centered. Like, no exaggeration: if it isn't about either him or Ashley (which is, in a way, lowkey also about him), then he couldn't really care less. Do you recall him ever expressing worry or remorse on Nina's behalf? Mourning her? We think Ashley's the one w/empathy issues, but Andrew's in the same boat imo. Self-preservation and self-interest is all that's keeping him seemingly amiable enough for polite society, bc for the most part, he really couldn't be bothered.
In his dreams, the victims of their murders are just bodies: interchangeable, holding no more meaning beyond the fact that they're dead. Any corpse's limb will do to replace the one Ashley cooked—never mind that they may be from different people—bc they're all the same to him. Even Julia, sitting in her dorm room surrounded by evidence of Ashley's harassment, gets no sympathy from Andrew. For the most part, he elects to ignore it all, and regards Julia herself with a detached sorta nostalgia tinged in no small part with apathy.
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img txt: You'll never see her again. And the fact that it doesn't really bother you, bothers you.
(The only things of notable worth from her were the colored pencils on her desk, which he promptly takes from her to give to Leyley instead, and isn't that just some crazy symbolism right there?)
His fear of punishment goes hand-in-hand with his desperate pursuit of plausible deniability. Everything he does, he does under certain self-imposed conditions. If it's Ashley's idea and he argues back, it doesn't matter in the end if he goes along with it, bc it was Ashley's idea in the first place. He's just there to make sure she doesn't get them in trouble, bc she needs him, bc he's gotta take care of her. Even if it's not her idea at all (e.g., killing the closet warden, killing the lady in room 302), it's still her fault, bc he did it for her, bc everything he does, he does for her.
Ashley's a manipulative, evil lil possessive gremlin w/a soul as black as tar, and Andy's a doormat, but don't think for a second that part of him doesn't use that dynamic a little to keep from reflecting on what he is. He suffocates under it, but he also relies on it. If there's any sort of plausible deniability available, he'll take it and run with it.
The truth of the matter is that they're both deeply toxic, warped individuals. The difference is that Ashley's owned up to it and quite frankly doesn't care. Andrew hasn't. He's the "normal" one.
Now, for the funky incest part (what we're all here for babyyyyy)—
We've all seen the flavor text abt the bed-sharing by now, right?
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img txt: Oh yeah, you tooootally have nightmares as often as you claim.
We know for a fact that aside from some light teasing, maybe, Ashley would have no problem whatsoever with sharing a bed w/Andrew. Heck, she'll coax him into bed (demo) or climb onto the couch with him (ep 2) w/o any prompting from him whatsoever, just bc she feels like it. Andrew, apparently, can't do the same. He doesn't allow himself this intimacy of his own choosing, so he has to lie and pretend to get it if he wants it. He's greedy for her, too, but he can't let himself show it.
If something is sufficiently too intimate in his eyes, beyond anything he can excuse away for some reason or another, then he'll stop himself from doing it. Just like how he wouldn't let himself succumb to the urge of pulling Ashley into his arms to make her smile, but is willing to give her a hug when she asks for it in front of their parents.
He insists on the extra expense of two beds, and then cites his nightmares and panic attacks as the driving force behind crawling into bed w/her, bc then it isn't really his fault now, is it? He tried to stay away, after all. He did! He just didn't have a choice!
Lol
Andrew can't admit to wanting this—buries those feelings and thoughts as deep as he can so they fester and bleed, the repressed idiot—so he gives Ashley all the power to decide how close they get. It's in Ashley's hands. He's free of that hassle.
Which is why the post-sex vision, and Ashley's reaction to it, is so dangerous. @csg-iii made a good point about it in my last post:
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img txt: I think the biggest point about "11" is that Andrew asks/begs Ashley for reassurance that it will never happen ("never say never"). It's a subtle admission that if she really wants it to happen, he knows he won't be able to resist his own urges. His only ""hope"" of avoiding going there is if Ashley doesn't want it.
Andrew, in absolving himself of this choice and putting it in Ashley's hands, shoots himself in the foot, bc what if Ashley goes the whole mile? Then the only real thing keeping his desires unrealized was the fact that they had never been voiced as an option before.
He doesn't want to think of himself as someone who'd bone his own sister. Forget being a cannibal, demon summoner, or a murderer; those titles were foisted upon him. This is too close to something real that he carries inside him; this isn't anything Ashley's buried in him, but rather something of his own invention. Something he'll definitely have to take responsibility for.
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