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justyouraverageficwriter · 1 year

Text

Orange ~

Sana X M Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst (for the most part)

WC: 4.1K Words

Chapter 9: Keep Me in your Heart

A/N: Wrapping up Orange's story. No smut tho.

Reader –

“Now tell me, what are you planning to do?”

Sana was so serious in her tone, nothing of that respectful daughter demeanor, business-like and ready to hear the terms of a very unfavorable circumstance. The atmosphere was heavy inside your office, tension was high, thick and palpable. Both you and Sana have not been on good terms with her father, and then there was the hospital director, caught in the crossfire. You look at your girlfriend and admire her resolve, although it doesn’t come as a surprise now, she has been a fighter ever since you knew her, and it is clear she’ll fight this one too, even though you are doomed to lose. However, it is also clear that there is also vulnerability in her voice.

“I advise you to be calm, my dear daughter.”

You can already tell it’s not going to be easy, her father sounded too confident on the card he is holding. He cleared his throat, and took a seat on the couch, not in a hurry whatsoever. He is taking his time, maybe even enjoying the agony written all over your faces. He may be the father of the girl who means the world to you but you can’t help but curse him under your breath, he is giving you all the reasons to hate him, and probably also a little more. As it stands, it's you and Sana against the world.

“So I heard that the owner of the place you are staying needs a heart transplant. You know I can help you with that, Sana." Her father started his spiel with a smug face. He knew his gambit would finally pay off. "You see, this should not have been your problem, but you have so much love to give and you can't help but care." The grin on his face grew wider which made you clinch on your fist tighter. But deep inside you can't argue his logic. You view care and connections as unnecessary. It's one of the reasons why you opt to keep to yourself; before this orange haired girl changed your life at least.

"You know what you need to do, come home with me to Japan, and I'll make sure she'll have her new heart as soon as possible."

He acted so calm, so cool when he laid out his terms. Sana's father thought he had you both on a checkmate, a chokehold; and maybe he probably did. If you didn't hate him, you would for sure admire the man, respect his composure by not laughing hysterically because he had the upper hand. Although you think you didn't expect less from her father, it's really hard to run a hospital, especially if it's controlled by three big families. Well perhaps you do, you already do sound like it.

At that moment, you noticed your girlfriend sob. You've been focused on your own feelings to not be aware that tears are now falling on her face. Instinctively you wrapped your arms around her, she cried enough for the night. You hate her father for doing all this, but even more so you hate yourself for not being able to think of a solution; a way out. You just want to dig deep and find something inside the big brain of yours you always seem so confident about, but somehow the well just ran dry. It can't keep on giving it seems.

There was a brief pause inside your office, the kind that you could not be blamed for thinking the world stood still, and somehow time stops moving forward. It's not a moment of respite however, it's full of dread and uncertainties. Sana knows it, you know it, the odds are not in your favor. "I'll give you time to think, but remember time is of the essence if you want that landlady saved." Sana's father broke that silence with absolute conviction in his voice. He left the office with his shoulders high, and so was his spirit; he knew he had won. You and Mr. Cho's eyes met, and you could see that he is emphatic to your situation, but it's out of his hands too and there's nothing he can do about it. You gave him a smile of acknowledgement as he tapped you gently in the back, and he went out as well after that.

Your focus went back to Sana, and she's crying as she leans on your shoulders. But what more can you do? You just wrapped your arms around her and rubbed her back. "It's all going to be alright." Inside your head you are thinking, asking, do you really mean those words? Maybe not since you yourself are afraid of what will happen next, but it's all you can think of for now. And maybe she knows you are just spewing out words and not meaning them, because she cried even harder when she heard it.

–

Morning came, and you are still occupied with things that need sorting out. You notice your girlfriend roll over and wake up, making a mess of her orange hair. Normally, you would have found it cute but right now you feel a sinking feeling in your stomach. It's a completely different circumstance. "Did you have any sleep, Doc?" Her eyes puffed and her voice hoarse, as she asked you the minute her eyes found yours. It is clear she worries for you too.

"I'm fine, baby." You managed a weak smile. You've been up all night, trying to find answers, but all you could produce was the name of Mrs. Kang's nearest relative using hospital records. You also tried to find ways and cases that a patient was given the priority to receive a heart but that proved to be all for naught. Absent a personal donor pledging their hearts when they die to a specific person, given that the receiver is compatible with the organ; the only recourse is to sign up and be included in the waitlist.

Then you felt your girlfriend sitting on your lap, you realized your attention was never really on her but on your computer, on the things that addled your mind because you did not notice her walk towards you. Sana wrapped her arms around your neck and rested her head on your shoulders; and you always feel at peace when she does that. But there's a feeling of sorrow in her embrace, the kind that screams goodbye, the kind that is making the most out of the remaining time. Anyone can walk in your office and see the both of you and be called unprofessional but those things don't bother you now, the world will understand.

"I already found a relative who can help us with the paper works of the operation." You are just hoping she will see it as good news, praying silently that she will not see it as you are already giving up by thinking about the operation already. Sana tightened her arms around you and you already knew that she understood what it meant. "We don't have any other options, do we?" Her voice trailed off as she tried to finish her sentence. For the first time today, you shifted your attention fully to your girlfriend. "I want to be selfish, you know. I just want to run with you and escape all these." You pat the back of her head and run your fingers through her orange locks. You mean those words, but you know as well that it's impossible.

Sana immediately removes her head from your shoulders to look at you straight into your eyes. "Then let's go, hmm?" There's pleading in her teary gaze, she's desperate just like you that she'll take any alternative without really thinking.

"We can't, baby. I know you can't. You're not capable of leaving the ones you care about." You hate to be the bearer of the grounding news, but you have to; even if it means putting an end to your selfish desires. "We will just go back immediately the moment we try to leave because of our conscience.” You fixed her messy hair, it has become your habit. After a long pause, of just both of you staring at each other, Sana went back to lean on your shoulders, vulnerable, defeated, devastated for the lack of choices. And your heart goes out with her.

Sana –

Sana is in a state of trance, her eyes are fixed on the face of her still unconscious landlady. In the background is a beeping noise of the electronic vital sign monitors, constantly reminding her that she too still exists, even though she thinks her mind has stopped functioning. As she holds the hands of the woman that serves as her guardian in a foreign country, Sana came to terms with what you said earlier. She really could not just run and leave it all behind. Unbeknownst to her, a pool of tears starts to accumulate again in her eyes. Perhaps, the choice is crystal clear now even if it means you two being away from each other. Sana resigns herself to let it all out again and cry but is stopped by the sound of the opening door. She immediately wiped her tears with her bare hands and tried to fix herself before turning to see who the visitor was.

“Unnie.” Dahyun’s head peeked on the small opening of the door, with her signature smile. “Doc said you haven’t eaten yet. Do you want to join us? Your boyfriend and Doc Jun Han still have a doctors meeting, and Sang Hun has a lecture to attend so it’s just us with Jihyo-unnie.” The anesthetist smiled brightly as she completed her invitation, obviously trying to exude positivity. Sana finishes to wipe her eyes dry and continues to fix herself, she can’t say no and frankly speaking she craves some company too.

Sana noticed that the two ladies tried to talk normally to her as the three of them settled on a table, careful to not bring up the topics related to the things that happened. No one seems to be giving her some weird looks in the hospital so she is thankful that the news didn’t really go out. Yet she could not shake off the feeling that it was a bit strange, normally Sana expected to be bombarded with inquiries but both of them talked about completely random things. "Did Doc tell the both of you not to ask me questions?" She just had to make sure, to confirm her suspicions. Both Dahyun and Jihyo awkwardly looked at each other but ultimately smiled in defeat and admitted that it was indeed the case.

"Are we that obvious, Sana?" Jihyo asked in defeat to which she nodded in response. "It's just highly unusual. You two don't want to be late with the news." Dahyun's mouth dropped in shock when Sana just casually calls them nosy but in a more sophisticated way. Then her lips formed a small smile in amusement, it's the first time she did for the day. It's just friendly banter, and the three just laugh about it.

"Did Doc fill you in with the details?" Sana considered both women more than just colleagues now so she decided to talk about the situation even though it is hard at the moment. Jihyo shaked her head."I only know about your landlady's situation, that she needs a new heart." Dahyun echoed Jihyo's response, also saying that she only knew the same information. "Doc seems to be avoiding the topic entirely so I didn't really pry and ask more." Dahyun added. Sana immediately thought about you. Of course it's hard for you too, you just act tough because being a doctor requires you to be, and as a boyfriend it requires you even more.

"This is basically saying goodbye." Sana tried to hold back her tears as she felt like a hand grips her heart again. It is heavy and it keeps on getting heavier that she closed her eyes and the flood gates of tears are now open. Concerned, both women at the table with her scoots closer. Jihyo sitting on the same side gently rubs her back while Dahyun offers tissue. However Sana gathered herself and proceeded to fill them in with the specifics, of how her father wants her to go back to Japan in exchange of securing a heart, of how there is no other choice, of how you two will be apart.

---

Sana looked at you, deep asleep. Probably the only place of peace amidst all the chaos. She examined every single line on your face and she was sure she memorized them all by now. The road to this very moment has not been easy, and Sana thought you deserve the rest you are currently enjoying. It has been your first taste of sleep ever since all of these ensued. She has been itching to touch your face and kiss your lips, but she was also afraid she might wake you up.

She looked back on the long day you both had, on the emotions and struggles. You both wanted to spend the remaining time together. Even though both of you avoided talking about it, not wanting to make it hard while you are still together. But somehow Sana knew that you also knew that it is just a matter of time, that you need to do what is needed to save a life. She involuntarily sniffs as her nose and eyes swelled again, for which she panicked a bit thinking that might wake you up but fortunately didn’t. Sana then took the chance to slowly get off the bed, careful to not disturb you in the slightest. She fetched a letter from the pocket of her coat, and placed it on your lone bedside table making sure you would see it. Then she took an all look around your room, a bittersweet smile. So many great memories she will forever cherish. And lastly, her eyes landed on you and God knows how much she wants to go back to your side. The few inches apart has been such a torture already.

Reader (Three weeks later) --

You opened the door to see Mrs. Kang sitting up looking outside the window. This is the first time ever since the operation that she has been strong enough to do so. You know she is deep in thought and you hesitated to interrupt her, but you need to make your rounds to your patients and it is her turn. You carefully knocked on the open door to not surprise her, and as she slowly turned around you gave her your best effort for a warm smile.

“It’s much better that you stay lying down, Mrs. Kang. Recover as much strength as possible. The more you do that, the faster you can get out of the hospital.” Normally it takes an average of two to three weeks to recover from a heart transplant. But given her age, you decided to monitor her more than that. She also showed signs of slow recovery so you couldn’t take the risk.

You quickly assisted her in lying back down and proceeded to check on her vitals. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Kang? Not feeling any more discomfort in your chest area?” The old lady slowly shook her head in response. “Your vital signs are well within expected now so I am happy to say we are getting good results. Give it like a week and I can consider releasing you. Sounds good, Ms. Kang?”

“Thank you, Doc.”

“Alright, and don’t forget you can always tell your attending nurse if ever you feel or need something.” You take a final look and give instructions to her own nurse since no relative has even taken the initiative to care, really tragic. You gave her a smile again as you were getting ready to leave when she held your hand to stop you. “Would you allow me a couple of questions, Doctor?”

“Of course.” You obliged after much thought, you were debating internally if it was the right time to let her in on the news. But with her determined eyes, you knew it would just be wrong to not let her know, to deny her of the truth.

You pulled a vacant chair and sat in front of the frail woman, thinking that the conversation would not end that quickly. She looks so much better than before her operation, visibly pain free and presumably getting quite adjusted to her new heart. The heart that has so much weight for you and a particular someone. You immediately remembered how you cried your own heart and eyes out after the successful operation, given how much it meant to you. The hospital director voiced his concern to you, suggesting that you should let other doctors perform the operation because emotions can get in the way, but you have to do it. You just have to make sure that it’s gonna be all worth it, and besides it’s the very last wish she said to you. And today, somehow sitting across her landlady, you realized you did just that. But as for the question if it was worth it, your heart is not that professional after all.

“You are Sana’s boyfriend, right? She always talks about you.” Mrs. Kang reaches out to hold your hand again, soft and gentle.

“Yes, her boyfriend.” It’s technically true, you did not separate that night; in fact not much was really said aside from a couple of lines. Yet you still hesitated, it has been almost a month that you haven’t seen her, not in any shape or form of conversation wahtsoever too.

“I haven’t seen her visit, she told me she works in the same hospital as you. I would very much like to see her.” There is a certain anticipation in her expression, you can clearly see how Sana means to her as well. However, you hate to be the bearer of the disappointing news.

“Sana-” you paused to clear your throat, you once again feel the grip that very fact holds upon your heart. Just her name solicits so much emotion from you. Yet you have to gather yourself and persevere, keep a straight face as much as possible. You have to soften the news to her, she is your patient after all. “Sana is back in Japan, Mrs. Kang. But don’t worry she already knew that you had a successful operation.” The last sentence was a lie. In truth, you don’t have an inkling of news about her, none whatsoever. Not even knowing if she safely arrived. Although, you thought it’s safe to assume that she does, you want to assume. And besides you really could use that particular white lie.

You saw the change in expression in Mrs. Kang's face. From hopeful anticipation to visible sadness. You didn’t do a great job of what you intended to do. "But you don't have to worry, all expenses have been taken care of too already." You tried to distract her with positive news. Yet you know, just like your heart, only a certain someone can fill that void.

“Can I talk to her at least?” That request was full of desperation, somehow it reflects your heart's desire. You would give the world to just have the chance to hear her sweet bright voice.

“I’ll make sure to let you talk to her once she calls, I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear you well and healthy. But right now, you just need to think about one thing, and that is recovering.” You immediately stood up, desperately wanting to get out of the conversation. You don’t want to lie anymore, but most of all of you just couldn’t hold on to your tears if you keep on talking about Sana. So with the last bit of perseverance, you remained professional. Telling her that you have to go to check on other patients, it’s the last lie you will tell her today.

–

You head to your office after completing your afternoon rounds, you just want to be alone. Unknowingly, you started to go back to your old self, loner, grumpy and unapproachable. And you realized that when you opened the door of your office hearing some laughter but it completely went silent when they saw you walk in the door, well except for one person who was confused about the situation. For the first time in what feels like forever, there was some semblance of joy in the corners of your office; the office that was once a well of happiness when Sana shared it with you and made it her own. Somehow in your heart, you wish she was one of the visitors you have but that is just wishful thinking of course.

“Are you this strict on them that they can’t laugh when you’re around, Oppa?” Your sister was ready to scold you. Jihyo and Dahyun immediately react that it was not the case but Tzuyu’s eyes were fixed on you.

“What are you doing here?” You disregard your sister’s question. However she was not having it.

“My sister can be a bit feisty.” You smiled at your colleagues. The two of them laughed again, looking more relaxed. They already understood you are a man of a few words. “It’s the first time I saw someone you can square up to you aside from–” Dahyun stopped on her sentence and looked away, conscious about what she almost did. Of course you picked up on it, in fact everyone did as Jihyo was shooting some lethal side eye to the anesthetist. However, you decided to let it go, nothing really good will happen if you mind it. “Will you excuse us, ladies?”

Both Jihyo and Dahyun of course obliged and immediately headed out the door after taking their leave. You sat down on your chair, legs gave out as soon as you reached it. Perhaps you are now done acting tough, you are with someone again where you are not afraid of showing vulnerability. “You didn’t answer my question, little sis. What brought you here?”

“Just checking on you. Anything wrong with that?” Tzuyu took a seat on the chair in front of your table. There was a pause after, yet somehow you know she didn’t expect any kind of answer. “You should stay with us for the meantime, you know. It will do you good to have company.” Ever since Tzuyu and your father met, they have been catching up so fast with each other’s life up to the point that she now lives in his house. You can see that your sister is happy so you are just as happy for her. Her happiness should not be hindered just because you still have your wounds.

“I’m doing fine, Tzuyu-ya.”

“Fine, I brought some food by the way. You should eat it. I won’t linger long, I still need to visit my shop.” She immediately ran to your side and gave you a hug.

“You can tell your father, I might invite him for some drinks.” You told her after the hug.

“He will be happy to hear that.”

–

The next morning rolled around and you woke up as the sunlight from your windows slowly creeped up on your eyes. Every morning has been pretty much the same ever since that night. Just like as you recalled, the first thing that grabbed your attention is the letter waiting for you to be read. And without fail ever since that morning, you reached out for it and unfolded the piece of paper that brings you both hope and sadness; the piece of paper that she left her heart with. Then you start to read again, each line somehow feels like it's the first time you ever read it:

You know I love you, and I will always do.

I’m such a coward for choosing to do it this way. But I know I wouldn’t be able to do this with proper goodbyes. I know it would be impossible for me to go seeing you cry the moment I leave. So allow me to go like this, while you are peacefully asleep.

This is not goodbye. Keep me in your heart until the day that we will see each other again. Promise me that I will still be your Orange.

Lastly, I will go because it is the right thing to do. Because you and I both know we can’t live if we took the selfish path. So let us make it worth it, promise me you will save her. Do all you can, I know you will.

I have so many things to say, but let’s just talk about them when we see each other again.

You know I love you, and I will always do.

Yours,

Orange

-----------------------------------------------------

Fin.

#twice #minatozaki sana #fanfic #fanfiction #twice sana #sana fluff #sana angst #orange

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foli-vora · 2 years

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run to you: chapter one

marcus pike x f!reader

A/N: what's this? What is this? Hah, surprise! The plan was to save this until I finished 'Glory & Gore' but I physically couldn't stop myself so here we are! Thank you for all the interest in this little universe, and for being so patient while I worked the deets and organised everything! I hope you enjoy the first part x

Summary: Following on from ‘Traitor’ and 'You’re Somebody Else’. An unexpected visitor throws you right back into the life you thought you left behind. Working beside the man that put you behind bars is one thing, pretending like you never loved him is another.

Word count: roughly 3k

Warnings: angst right off the bat, blood, description of injuries, swearing, mentions of previous undercover relationship.

main masterlist | series masterlist

This story will have explicit sexual scenes in the future so 18+ only.

Present.

Bile builds in your throat as you drop to your knees, uncaring as the rough floor scuffs the skin of your knees through the thin material of your dress. You tug desperately at his jacket, rolling him over and clawing at his body until he sprawls over your lap, heavy and unmoving.

“Marcus? Marcus, look at me,” you beg softly, a strangled sob falling from your throat when his eyes eventually flutter open languidly and focus tiredly on yours. “What did you do? God, what did you do?”

His lips part, words building on his tongue, but before they can fall from his mouth he jolts in your arms, heaving and coughing and sputtering. It sounds fucking horrible.

You watch the blood ooze from his lips, creating a stark trail of bright red that melts into his faded stubble and slides down along his jaw. You push at his jacket and feel your heart plummet to the floor at the deep maroon patches outwardly soaking the crisp white shirt from the holes in his torso.

“It’s okay,” you soothe shakily, wiping the blood away from his lips with your thumb and feeling your stomach jolt with the wet sticky feel of it. “It’s okay. Keep looking at me, okay? I’m here. Somebody help me! Marcus, please—hold on, please—”

Six months ago.

It’s not home.

It’s been three months since your release, and you still haven’t managed to quite get the feel there. The apartment is fine, albeit much smaller than what you had before, but at least it’s in a nice building.

Well, anything was better than the cold and cramped cell you had lost a year to.

Now you were left to try and make sense of the pieces left behind after your world was shattered. Mostly everything had been stripped from you. Your apartment – your home – seized and sold off, along with ninety nine percent of your belongings.

It was a startling reality, coming out to nothing but a letter from your attorney saying to collect what had been put aside in a storage locker downtown.

An application had been put through for an apartment in your name, and accepted a few days before your release, so it was ready and waiting by the time you blissfully walked free of the gates.

Some clothes, five boxes, a couch and your bed. That’s it. That’s all you had of your old life. You didn’t even get to say goodbye to any of it.

The art that used to line the walls – gone. The borderline ridiculous amount of houseplants you had grown from seedlings or bought on lazy Sunday mornings at the market – trashed, probably. Your trinkets, and furniture, and memories...

You ache for it, for the life you had before it all went to shit.

It had taken a couple of weeks, but you eventually managed to get a job – a part time thing at the diner close to your building. It wasn’t a lot by any means and the pay was awful, but at least it was something.

You worried about rent, until your kind elderly landlady said the first couple of months had been taken care of, showing a letter from your attorney organising to pay said rent.

Six whole months were taken care of and already paid for in advance and a weight lifted from your shoulders. You didn’t need to panic just yet and slowly, week by week, you somewhat found your feet again, but the ache of what had been lost didn’t fade. You were learning to live with it, though.

It was all behind you, and now you simply wanted to look ahead.

You should’ve known… it’s never that simple.

A firm, brisk knock on your door jolts you from your thoughts as you leisurely flick through a book huddled on your couch, and your brows furrow in confusion as to who it could be.

A neighbour maybe?

You eye the front door, softly setting your book aside and throwing the blanket off your legs before standing and striding over to answer it.

It’s crazy how fast everything fucking crumbles.

It all hits you immediately the instant you pry the door open.

Anger—rage. Heartache. Sorrow.

It floods you in heavy, overwhelming waves and you struggle to keep your head above it all. What the hell is he doing here?

He’s got a lot of fucking nerve. You hate that the sight of him could still make your heart jump in your chest, even after fifteen months. No. It was never him, you remind yourself. He didn’t make your heart jump like that.

Seconds pass as you critically eye his appearance, scanning the freshly shaved skin of his jaw to the crisp dark grey suit and light blue tie. You’re loath to admit it to yourself, but he looks fucking good.

God. What a dick.

“Hi,” Marcus finally says, seemingly unfazed by your scowl and merely tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

You inhale deeply, straightening your shoulders and curling your fingers tightly around the door knob.

“Will I get arrested if I slam this door in your face?”

A twitch of a frown creases his brows, “No –”

“Good.”

It’s loud.

Your windows rattle from the force of it. You don’t care that you probably just disturbed most, if not all, of your neighbours. The once steady beat of your heart has turned thunderous, beating against your chest and making you dizzy from the rush of blood pounding through your system.

Had you not been clear enough? You never wanted to see him again, and now he’s at your front door? How does he even know where you live? The bitter reminder of who, and what, he is hits you, and you start to wonder if you’re under surveillance or something.

Are they watching you?

Suddenly, you start to question everything.

Had they been following you on your morning walks to the coffee shop? The book store? Getting groceries? Do they watch you now, coming and going from your apartment? Do they look through your window?

Your chosen safe space to explore your ideas doesn’t feel as safe, as comfortable anymore.

You eye the large window looking out onto the busy streets now, and the thrifted armchair you had dragged in front of it to enjoy the long stretches of sun that would shine through the glass. Various art materials are scattered around it and lining the window sill, your sketchbook and art journals stacked on the small side table beside the well loved seat… it was your spot.

Your favourite spot.

Had they been watching you while you sat there for hours? Had he been watching?

It’s violating. You feel sick, repulsed by the idea of sitting there or going anywhere near your windows. Goddamnit, when will he stop taking from you?!

“I know I’m the last person you want to see,” he speaks through your door, “and I’m sorry for showing up like this, but we need to talk.”

“I told you to leave me alone, Pike!” You hiss, rushing towards the door and pounding your fist against it to try to channel some rage out of your system. It doesn’t work.

“What the hell did you not understand, huh!? Does your stupid government brain not comprehend simple English?”

“I understand your hostility—” he replies calmly.

You snort harshly, tearing open your door and fixing him with a vicious glare. “My ‘hostility’? Are you fucking kidding me?”

He exhales softly, gazing down the corridor before his eyes fix on you once more. He doesn’t seem put off by your anger. In fact, he looks braced for it. He’s playing the cool and calm agent perfectly.

Are you shaking?

It takes you a moment but, sure enough, you feel a tremble in your hands. Rage simmers, hot and heavy, under your skin and you swear your heart’s about to beat out of your chest. The silence stretches on and you just seem to get madder.

Eventually, he sighs softly. “Can I come in?”

“No.”

“This won’t take long –”

You force a tight, sarcastic smile. “Do you have a warrant, Agent Pike?”

“No. I’m not here to –”

“Then you can contact my attorney and we’ll talk then.”

Fuck you and your stupid badge.

The door starts to swing shut, the temptation to slam it in his face again bubbling beneath the surface. You’re just so fucking angry. The last thing you expected when rolling out of bed this morning was to be greeted with him of all people.

Despite trying your hardest not to, he ever so slowly seeped through your defences to the forefront of your mind, and you found yourself thinking about him almost regularly. It was enough to drive you mad some days, filled with so much harsh resentment and bitterness it oozed into your art.

You’d spent months thinking over your relationship with him – with Alex – while in your cell, picking through every single interaction and moment spent with him, analysing every memory, every word, every touch, until you feared it was starting to get obsessive. You grumbled for days, weeks, on end.

There hadn’t been any warning signs or red flags. He’d been just right, fitting so perfectly into your life you thought the universe had finally decided to cut you a bit of slack and grant a little wish come true. His curiosity over your work had come on slowly, and simply felt so natural that you didn’t even think anything of it.

It’d been the performance of a lifetime. The government should really look at giving out fucking Oscars, or something. He had played his part immaculately if the icy cold ache left in your heart was anything to go by.

The door jolts to a sudden stop.

You blink in vague surprise, a quick scowl forming with the longer his hand stays splayed on the door to keep it from closing.

“Just a minute of your time – that’s all I ask. Please.”

For the love of –

You exhale deeply, your eyes tracing the doorframe of the apartment opposite before you silently step aside, allowing him a small enough space to accept as an invitation in. A minute only. You start to count the seconds.

He gives a quiet murmur of thanks and you ignore it, simply closing the door behind him with your stomach turning to knots. Your arms cross defensively over your chest as he wanders deeper into your apartment, a barely there flicker of curiosity pulling at his features as his eyes roll over your things.

You hate it. You don’t want him here. You don’t want him tainting the life you had, the new life you had created by yourself. You don’t want him in your new space; your new home, free from the memories of what you had shared with him.

No. You had nothing with him. You had something with Alex, but then again… did you? He didn’t exist. He was a lie, a sham. None of it was real. You’d fallen in love with a character thought up in a room full of federal agents wanting to close a case.

The rage returns.

“Out of curiosity,” you mutter, grimacing at the way he eyes your apartment and feeling your eye twitch from the fury pumping through your system, “how many years would I get for assaulting a federal officer?”

He turns at your question, mirroring your stance and crossing his arms across his chest. He oozes authority. He looks like an agent, all stiff-postured in his suit and carefully concealing any and all emotion. He doesn’t give you any reaction to your question.

Instead, he merely does a once over, studying your own posture and deciding you’re of no threat whatsoever.

“I wouldn’t press charges, so none.”

“Oh? You don’t want to lock me up? But I thought you were quite good at that,” you spit. “I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t give a fuck about you and I hope you dehydrate on my shitty rug, you lying piece of shit.”

The words sit in the air and he blinks, his brow quirking slightly at your little outburst. “Feel better?”

You shift in your spot, your tongue swiping along your lower lip. You do actually. Ugh. Bastard.

“What do you want, Marcus?”

“I know this must be very unexpected for you and I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, but I – we – need your help—”

What?

“Get out,” you snap before he can even continue, infuriated by the mere idea that he’d come to you for help after everything.

“No, I’m fucking serious, Pike. Get out. You think I’d help you? After everything you did to me? You fucking broke me, Marcus! You ruined my fucking life!”

A small, logical part of you reminds you that, ultimately, it was your doing in the end. You chose the life you had, choosing to do what you did. There was always going to be a chance it would come crashing down, but that doesn’t alleviate the pain of having the one person you thought truly had your back assisting in bringing it all down around you.

You’re surprised when the slightest flicker of sadness shines through his eyes.

“I know,” he murmurs, head falling into a small nod, “and I am sorry for that. It was never...”

He doesn’t continue, his sentence merely leading into silence as he struggles for words.

It was never what? It was never meant to happen? It was never meant to get as far as it did? It was never meant to end like it did? What?

You look away, not entirely sure you even want to hear him continue. It had happened, and no amount of apologies or excuses would ever make it better.

“I’d like you to leave,” you mutter weakly, hating that tears start to sting the back of your eyes.

It shouldn’t hurt anymore. It’s been so long – why does it still hurt?

Why does it feel like you’re still in the holding cell, desperately clutching your chest in an effort to hold your heart together? It shouldn’t hurt, not like this.

You hurriedly wipe away the single tear that falls, now fully unable to look at him knowing he would’ve seen it.

“Okay,” he murmurs soothingly, taking a small step towards the door. “I know we have no right to ask you this, but there are people getting hurt, and I—”

You huff in pained amusement, “No one cared when I got hurt.”

“This is bigger than you and me,” his voice is quiet and thick with emotion, but when you look at him, he shows nothing on his face.

“Look, if you’re not interested, that’s fine, but please just… just think it over, okay? You could really make a difference in our investigation, and if you do happen to change your mind—”

“Not likely,” you cut in, but he carries on as if he doesn’t hear you.

“—then give me a call.”

You glare at the card he holds out to you, but figure he’ll leave quicker if you take it so you snatch it from his grasp and nod, averting your gaze before it could meet his. You see him hesitate from your peripheral, almost as if he were contemplating saying something more… but nothing comes.

No words fall from his mouth, and instead he merely clears his throat and lets himself out of your apartment quietly. The door closes softly behind him and your fingers immediately tear the small white card in half.

—

It plagues you for days.

You toss and turn at night, unable to calm your mind long enough to get a restful night's sleep. Instead, it’s painfully interrupted, and mostly consists of you staring through your ceiling and bedroom walls until your body can no longer fight the wave of heaviness coming over your eyes.

The pieces of Marcus’ destroyed business card sit on your countertop. You play with them over your morning coffee, sliding the pieces together as if it were a jigsaw puzzle before flicking them apart and attempting to ignore their presence as you went about your usual routine.

You couldn’t bring yourself to throw them away.

The thought of people out there – nameless and faceless and nothing to you personally – getting hurt simply sat wrong in your stomach.

What kind of person would you be if you didn’t at least try to help? You could be bitter over your situation and no one coming to your aid when you needed it, but would you really let that bitterness stretch out onto others? Could you live with yourself knowing you had done nothing when, maybe, you could have made a difference?

It’s those thoughts that propel you to just do it.

You slip the pieces together and dial the numbers printed neatly under his name, ignoring the feeling of tightness wrapping around your lungs as you bring your phone to your ear. It rings three times before he answers, and you spit out the words before you can change your mind.

“I’ll help, and then that’s it, okay? I want no more of this. You leave me alone – all of you— for good. I want to live my life… understood?”

Had you spoken too quickly?

It had all come out so fast in your hurry to get the call over and done with. A part of you still wants to completely forget he ever knocked on your door… too late now.

This could be good, would be good. You’d do your part, you’d help and then you’d be able to sleep peacefully knowing you had done what you could for those getting hurt.

“Understood,” he replies, and that seals the deal.

You’re involved in his investigation now.

“Okay, so… what now?”

tags (will also be continued on reblogs): @maievdenoir, @william-butcher, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80,@danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @h-hxgirl

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist fic

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maleyanderecafe · 1 year

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Hey! You might like the game Dead Wishes. The main concept is that all the love interests are yanderes (some debatable, imo, but all interesting). It's about 50/50 male vs. female love interests. I want to say it's about $10 on Steam, and it has a LOT of content.

Phew, yeah sorry for taking so long to get to this ask, it is a lot longer than I expected. I actually did know about Dead Wishes way back when I first started this blog, but I only really knew briefly about Mateo's route. I honestly thought that the game would be a lot darker than it was (which I mean, don't get me wrong- it CAN be), but it was nice and fun to play. There is about 1-2 male yanderes, and 2-3 female yanderes depending on interpretation. It is well worth the 10 dollars though- there is indeed a LOT of content. It is also pretty r18 despite not having any actual sex scenes or anything as it can get gory or talk about more sensitive topics. You can find more information about this and other games at @violetstudiogames. This is going to be VERY long, so bare with me.

Starting out, I'll give a brief summary of each non-yandere route including some of my brief opinions on it. We will save the yandere (or yanderesque) routes for last since I have more to say on it. The main character's default name is Dante, so we will use that name when discussing relationships. I'll go in order from how me and Cherry played it, skipping the yandere routes until the end. Generally the idea is that the more innocent the character looks, the more terrible their route is and the more problematic they look the more sweet their route is (not always true, but it is to a certain extent)

The game starts out with Dante moving into a new apartment. They are really behind on rent and the landlady is trying to come in and get them to pay her.

Clement's route starts with Dante getting help from the landlady in finding a job. Dante ends up working with Clement at his restaurant. While Clement is generally very angry when people do stupid things in his restaurant (so like Gordan Ramsy), though he is for the most part kind towards Dante because he has an interest in them. Dante and Clement eventually get close to each other. We learn about Dante's past and how they moved away because they accidentally killed their parents in a car accident, and still feel survivor's guilt for it. The two get into a relationship after some cute moments.

Clement's route is very cute all things considered and is the most fluffiest route out of all of them. The route is pretty solid, but I think that Dante's personality in this route was a tad annoying. Not the worse one, but just a bit annoying. If you came into this game not knowing about all of the warnings about how dark it is, Clement's route will very easily fool you into thinking it is a sweet game when it really is not. He's a caring person though and he just wants Dante to be happy. Very sweet.

Festus's route starts with Dante promising to pay the landlady and attempting to steal from a nearby church (and failing). Festus gives them a place to stay in the church and Dante ends up helping out at the church. Dante finds out pretty fast that Anise is sort of corrupting Festus with sexual desires, which is causing his duties as a priest to become worse. Festus persists that it is his own desires that lead him to Anise, but it's also obvious that Anise is enabling them and taking advantage of him. Dante is able to help Festus break of from Anise and continue to lead his life as a priest the way that he wants to.

I actually did like Festus's route. I thought it would be a bit more dark, but it is for the most part rather wholesome the way that Dante tries to help Festus throughout it and that he's not just a sly and promiscuous person, but someone who cares deeply about the community. Dante in this one is probably one of the better main characters (in my opinion) because they are able to help Festus the way that he was able to help them (plus I think that them trying to steal from a broke church is funny). Unfortunately, despite how good the route is, it is relatively forgettable compared to other routes.

Nanako's route starts with Dante going to work for them thanks to the land lady. We are greeted by Nanako and her sister Kazue. Initially Nanako doesn't really have anything for Dante to do, but as Kazue gets clingy towards Dante, Nanako tasks us to take care of Kazue. As Dante takes care of Kazue, we see that her mental state is degrading, becoming very capricious at times. Eventually, Nanako introduce us to her friend Eira, who has been stalking a man named Mateo for her. Mateo seems to have done something to Kazue, which is why her mental state has deteriorated so heavily. Eventually following Mateo leads us to a back alley, where Nanako is able to kill Mateo once and for all.

Nanako's route is where the dark parts of the story become more obvious, with the start of Mateo and his master coming into play. Really Nanako's route feels more like a Kazue route feat Nanako, since it seems mostly platonic but more importantly that she's not really in the route. It's not really a bad route, it's just not really "Nanako's" route, if you know what I mean.

Lucian's route starts with Dante being kicked out of their apartment and them living on the streets. Lucian ends up picking them up and giving them a place to stay at his escort business. They end up working as a receptionist with Lucian flirting every now and then with them. Eventually though, while getting close to Lucian, Dante reads a diary on the side of his bed depicting scenes of being molested, raped, witnessing murder as a child and being abused by his parents. Lucian catches them and is understandably enraged by this, which leads Dante into feeling incredibly distraught. The two are able to make up because of Dante's gift, and Lucian ends up trying to force them even despite their pleas. This leaves Lucian upset that Dante has rejected his advances, which lingers until they make up. Dante is kidnapped by Sergio and his gang to his location, with Sergio trying to warn them about Lucian. Dante refuses to believe him and Lucian comes to rescue him, leading to the two of them shooting him. All seems well afterwards with Lucian being together with Dante.

Lucian in his route is mostly pretty nice to Dante given that you get his good route, but boy does Lucian do pretty bad things in other routes. In his own route, getting a neutral or bad ending will have Lucian turn Dante into an escort against their will, either by manipulating them or telling them that he's spent too much resources on them and makes them work it off in this way. He definitely has one of the worst backstories in the game, but this of course doesn't justify his behavior. He and Sergio were a couple, but Lucian seems to not care or think about Sergio at all, which is especially telling since he sleeps with a lot of other people (and in Ophelia's route, used to "break them in", and even attempts to rape Ophelia as well) and it doesn't even seem like he and Sergio have been broken up for that long. He is written to be the playboy done straight, which definitely is done well since it elicits pretty strong reactions (which for me is disgust, mostly, but I've never liked playboys in the first place). Dante in this version is written to be the doe eye innocent character like a lot of otome girl protagonists, which works on his route since he really needs to have a main character who is that naive for it to be pulled off.

Sergio's route starts with the land lady calling the repo men after Dante refuses to talk to her, leading to Mateo coming in and taking their stuff. Given that Dante pretty much has nothing, Mateo just kidnaps them and brings them to Sergio. Sergio is annoyed, but takes a liking to Dante and gives them a job as a black jack dealer and a place to stay. During this time, Mateo pesters Dante and Sergio tries to flirt with them, leading to Mateo getting beat up by Sergio after letting a customer get away with a ton of money. Mateo ends up trying to get Dante to escape with him, but they refuse. Sergio is pissed that Mateo left suddenly, and gets Dante to stay in his room for the time being. Sergio ends up confessing accidentally (and very cutely) to Dante, who continues to tease him. Eventually getting closer to Sergio, he tells Dante about his history with Lucian, how they were together, but Lucian suddenly broke up with him (due to the fact that he was afraid of his status and him being afraid of them being extremely homophobic to him) and stealing half of his company. This entire time he knows he has to take down Lucian for this, but he is still too shaken up by the break up and still cares for him. With Dante's reassurance, Lucian is able to kidnap Ophelia and Allegra, confining them to the dungeon (which is actually very well furnished with a shower). Dante is tasks to take care of them and gets Sergio to collaborate with Ophelia to get rid of Lucian (since she hates his guts). This leads to an attack on his lounge, but when Sergio and Lucian are seen face to face, Sergio can't shoot him, leading to his right hand lady Eira doing it for him.

Sergio is really cute, but that's no surprise because that's coming from me. Despite his position as mafia boss, he is surprisingly easy to tease and actually pretty kind all things considered. He's in a pretty stressful situation given that Lucian has stolen half of his business and he needs to keep his business afloat. He is also probably the most sensitive of the guys in this game, still attached to Lucian despite all of the horrible things he's done to him/other people. He's trying very hard to keep up the façade, despite the fact that I think he mostly treats everyone pretty well all things considered (Mateo is an exception, but it's kind of understandable given Mateo's personality). Also, canonically is submissive and breedable according to the wikia, which would never lie to me. I think Dante in this route is very bratty, but it works with this route because of Sergio's cute reactions, otherwise, I probably would have been more annoyed at Dante's behavior. He also has one of the worst endings (in my opinion) given that in the bad ending, Sergio misses his shot, causing her and Eira to be shot fatally. Dante is then raped by Lucian in front of Sergio's dying body and eventually sold off as an escort afterwards, thus showing that Lucian is still worst boy and that Sergio has every right to kill him as best boy. That's just my opinion, but man Sergio is adorable, is all I'm saying.

Ophelias route branches off of Lucian's after Dante asks to work with her instead. Initially, Ophelia seems to just be very mean spirited and direct person, spitting on Dante after not understanding how important skincare and fashion is. Initially, Dante doesn't see the big deal of it, but slowly sees just how much work Ophelia does and just how good she is as it, touching up all of the escorts. Ophelia is blunt and mean, sure, but she never lies and is in the end trying to help people, despite how it may come out. Dante slowly learns about all the work she has to do and admires her drive for it. Ophelia starts to let Dante in, telling them just how much work she does for Lucian's lounge and how much she despises him, only working for him as a paycheck. Eventually, Ophelia ends up snapping at Lucian after he tries to force Dante into an escort position, leading to Ophelia stabbing his eye and peeling his face off of his corpse. Ophelia explains to Dante that he was trying to hurt them and that she was only protecting them, adding that Lucian would often sleep with his escorts to "break them in" and even tried to rape Ophelia. After this, Ophelia ends up taking over the business thanks to Sergio and Eira, and the two work together.

Ophelia being one of the poster children for this series has a pretty fun route, all things considered, though I can definitely see people trying to label her as a yandere. She initially does seem like one considering her good ending, killing Lucian to protect Dante, but in her bad ending, its revealed she does this quite frequently to people who don't listen to her and even skins Dante for this very reason. She is much more of a yangire, and I can see why people might have more split opinions on her route. I actually did like her route quite a bit, partially because I just like cute looking characters and because she is very competent at what she does with her advice, while said in a callous way, very useful and generally trying to help people, and if you get in her way, she will kill you. Plus her friendship/love for Allegra is very cute and the two compliment each other very well.

Eira's route starts with Dante going to the bank trying to get a job from Vincent only to be turned down. They are then scouted by Eira and brought to Sergio, where they work as a bartender. Dante gets more and more curious and worried about Eira as she seems to be sneaking around and Dante keeps trying to butt in so that Eira will tell them what's going on. Eira brings Dante to her house where she's renovating and they have some cute moments together, until Eira brings them to meet Nanako. They stalk around in Mateo's turf for a while, before Eira has to go and help Sergio dispatch Lucian. During this time Dante talks to some of the children in Mateo's turf and brings that information back to Eira. Eira returns wounded after being shot, and soon after tending them, the two go out to get rid of Mateo. The two get sucked into the blackhole where Mateo's master lives, leading to a weird scene where Eira and Dante are together.

I really like Eira, but her route is very confusing. I understand it's suppose to sort of tie in with the true ending of Mateo's master, but it sacrifices Eira's route for it, which is not great (at least in her happy ending). I felt really bad though in her normal ending, as instead we get Sergio to help, but before Mateo dies, he outs that Eira has been using Sergio to get to Mateo. Given that, Sergio has no choice but to shoot her, despite how heartbroken he is, leading either Dante to sacrifice themselves or Eira to die. Personally, I wasn't a fan of Dante in this route because while I understand the general idea was to get Dante to push about what Eira is hiding so that she doesn't have to carry the burden herself, it is written in a way that makes Dante seem very annoying, especially since Eira herself states that she doesn't want Dante to get hurt and that Dante doesn't have any way or training to defend themselves. There are cute moments between them, but the ending of the happy ending is jarring and unsatisfying. Probably the worst of all routes just because of that.

Alright, now let's talk about the yandere/ yanderesque characters. The three characters I consider as certain yanderes are Vincent, Kazue and Allegra (in her bad ending) and the ones that can be more debatable are Anise and Mateo.

Allegra's route starts with Dante attempting to steal from her bouquet only to be caught and reprehended by her. Dante ends up crying and telling Allegra about their situation, to which Allegra gives them a job working at the bouquet alongside her. Things go mostly smoothly, though Dante has to learn to work with Allegra's temper when she gets pissed off, until someone attempts to rob the bouquet. Allegra is able to knock him out, but after pissing her off, she ends up killing him, causing Dante to panic. Allegra tries to calm them down, telling them they can sell the body off to Mateo so that the evidence won't be found. Allegra ends up teaching Dante about designing clothing, but also both have to do a favor for Mateo. This results in the two luring a deaf girl named Eden into the alleyway for Mateo's master to leave, which leaves a bad taste in Dante's mouth. With the help of Ophelia, the two are able to escape Mateo's debt and work together in the bouquet together.

In her bad ending, Dante is scared out of their wits of Allegra, despite how hard Allegra is at trying to keep her temper and be nice to them. In the end, Dante seems to be so scared or uncomfortable with Allegra that they reject a matching outfits she designed for them. This leads to Allegra knocking out Dante and Allegra confronting them about how they're still afraid of her. Allegra takes her clothes cutter promising that she will take care of Dante until they learn to no longer fear them and cuts off their legs and arms.

Allegra's yandere ending is pretty cool since a lot of times yanderes use fear as a way to get with their lover (especially male yanderes, in which it often turns them on) but with her, it's the opposite-trying to get Dante to NOT be afraid of her (albeit by cutting off their arms and legs). I think it's a pretty good subversion of that trope and although we only see her do this in her bad ending, it was still pretty cool to see. Her route as a whole is very nice and I think Dante's personality paired very well with it. Despite being dangerous, she still maintains a sweet side and just wants to be loved.

Vincent's route (which is the main one we care about on a male yandere blog) starts out with Dante going to the bank to get a job. Unlike in Eira's route, Vincent is very understanding of Dante's position and proceeds to pay off their rent as long as they work in the bank to pay it off. Dante is very grateful for this and starts to work at the bank, but feels extreme pressure due to the fact that they feel like they're slipping behind despite instruction. This leads to Vincent inviting them over to his house to talk about this, only for Vincent to drug them. Upon waking up, Dante is chained to the bed, while Vincent explains that they are now his wife (yes, wife- doesn't matter what Dante's actual gender is, Vincent will call them his wife). Vincent states his very strong rules about how Dante will be his wife- waking up early to choose his clothes, cooking meals for him and saying goodbye and welcome home when he comes back. Failing to do so will cause Dante to be punished. We see this on the first day when Dante fails to wake up and cook breakfast for Vincent, with Vincent forcing them to strip and walk around naked for the rest of the day. Vincent implies he's put cameras around the apartment, so they can't put on their clothes or risk getting punished. While trying to make food for Vincent's dinner, Dante gets burned and leaves the food to accidentally burn. When Vincent comes home and finds out, he punishes Dante by forcibly placing their arm over an open stove, causing them to be severely burned. As the days go by, Dante gets better at becoming a housewife and despite some hiccups (like chewing loudly), Vincent comes to be more soft and accommodating, even happy when Dante calls Vincent using an old phone that is used for emergencies. While cleaning one day, Dante ends up passing out due to the bleach fumes, leading to an extremely worried Vincent. He reveals that he wanted to have a family for so long, but was always lonely-happy that Dante is now with them to make the perfect family. Vincent ends up adopting two children from the streets after trying to make a baby with Dante (again, doesn't matter gender, baby's gotta be made) whom are also chained to complete Vincent's perfect family. Dante gets punished by Vincent a couple of times for failing to be a good wife, but ultimately Dante gets used to it. Eventually, Vincent lets Dante go out with him to the flower shop. In the end, Dante is fully stockholm sydrome and takes care of Vincent, and the they all stay together as a happy family.

If Dante does try to run away, Vincent will catch them, leading to him killing the two children in front of Dante before killing them, stating that it's their fault that they (and the children) died and that they destroyed his perfect family.

In the bad ending, Vincent is tired that Dante is not the perfect wife and kills them with a knife. Dante is killed, but finally feels free of their shackles.

Vincent runs a pretty fun idea of enforcing traditional values with a yandere twist of confinement and stockholm syndrome. He loves Dante, but wants them to follow his set of rules to be his perfect life, whether they want to or not. I was pretty surprised that Dante was pretty lax in this route, not really attempting to run away but instead succumbing to the stockholm syndrome in the end. As a yandere, he enacts punishments to mold Dante into the perfect housewife, but also worries about them when they are hurt by accident, and is extremely happy when they don't leave him, as he is a lonely person who just wants to have his happy family. He even tells the landlady that the two are dating and that Dante will move in when he pays Dante's rent. There's something both familiar and unique about this situations that Vincent has when it comes to yandere media, which is in my opinion very nice and still adds to the wariness of horror while having a loving aspect to him. It's interesting that the traits for Vincent's route to activate to include submissiveness since he does believe that it is part of his lover to be a wife, and that wives are subserviently in this way. Personally I feel like Vincent and Kazue are kind of an OTP not really because they would have a good relationship (god would they not have a stable relationship) but rather because their traits and personalities compliment each other to a T, with Vincent wanting a loving a supportive wife and Kazue wanting to be useful and being extremely good at housework. They would manipulate each other to hell and back and are too strong of a yandere couple. Also, Cherry really liked him and I liked his route, but I would be turned into fried chicken really fast because boy am I not good at housework. Also, this entire route I was trying to mimic Markplier's voice (because that's kind of what Vincent sounds like sometimes) and I think it's really funny that Vincent kinda just kidnapped two kids off of the streets to be in his family. I understand why, it's just the image of it is hilarious. Stockholm syndrome go brr.

Kazue's route is an extension of Nanako's route, where Dante pays attention more to Kazue. Initially it is very sweet, with the two teasing each other and while Kazue does have her fits of capricious crying, is mostly very kind to Dante...and starts to cling very hard to them. While the two like each other, Kazue gets very jealous whenever they are near Nanako, even if it's just to do certain tasks for Kazue. Kazue also gets very obsessive, sniffing Dante's clothing and using their bathwater. She talks about missing her departed husband Daichi dearly, and wishing that she were more useful despite her broken body- happy that Dante is very similar to how kind Daichi is. Kazue is able to convince Dante to move in with them, and then convinces them to go out and meet Kazue's friend, which is Mateo's master. After passing out and being brought back, they try to tell Nanako what's happened, but can't find her anywhere. Dante continues to tell themselves that Kazue is a sweet person and that she isn't capable of doing horrible things, even though at some point Kazue ends up sexually assaulting Dante and continues to manipulate them into believing that they're being cruel by not doing what she says. Eventually, Dante finds Nanako's corpse in her bedroom, and despite Kazue nonchalantly stating that she was the on who killed her, Dante starts to get attached to Kazue and is fully manipulated at this point. The two are finally married in front of Mateo's master.

In the normal ending, Dante isn't fully manipulated and tries to convince her that she will find someone even better to get married to. Kazue can't accept this and ends up bounding Dante to the bed until they realize they are Kazue's true love.

In the bad ending, Dante pushes her away, leading her to kill Dante. Dante is able to see Kazue keep their dead body, delusionally holding them and taking care of their and Nanako's corpses.

Kazue's route is what I would expect a female route to be like- which is to say less on the physically violent side and more on the manipulative side. I'm not saying that female yanderes can't be violent, but I think that this type of yandere is more found in female yandere routes rather than male ones. That being said, I do kind of wish that there were male yanderes that feign weakness and get the MC to depend on them through emotional manipulation (I call these yanderes "Damsel yanderes" for feigning weakness to get their lover to be with them.) Still though, Kazue's route is very twisted because while Kazue is seemingly weak, she does do a quite a lot of horrible things such as committing sororicide, emotional manipulation, rape or sexual assault and just killing, yet it doesn't feel as scary as Vincent's route. I suppose it's the difference of thrown into lava or being slowly boiled alive- one is more immediately dangerous, while the other seems fine until it's too late, which in many cases, is sometimes even more terrifying. Eventually the two become one, and I can see Kazue as a bunch of types of yanderes from delusional, to a replacement type (Dante replacing Daichi), to manipulative and it works very well without it feeling like it's just tacked on. Still pretty horror esque, though in the way that something is creeping up behind you that you don't see. Again, Kazue and Vincent OTP, causing chaos everywhere they go.

Finally the two yanderes that are more debatable... I can see an argument for both ways.

Mateo's route starts through Sergio's- by running away with Mateo to avoid Sergio's wrath. Mateo drags them off to the alleyways where there are children living in boxes. Mateo is very volatile, one second being cutesy and nice while the other spitting out obscenities' and choking Dante to sleep. Dante helps the children the next day find boxes to make new houses but when Mateo returns, he ends up chaining himself to Dante. After not eating nor sleeping well for a while, (and having Mateo nearly killing Dante when peeing on a plant), Mateo and Dante go out to get food for the children, which involve killing Clement and feeding him to the children. He also gets other bodies to feed his master, the giant hole in the alleyway. Dante refuses to cannibalize and tries to get Eira to help them (silently) while the two are chained up. Mateo continues to be volatile, choking Dante, screaming at a child for bringing dead animals all as Dante grows weaker and weaker with little food or water. Eira tries to kill Mateo and free Dante, but ends up shooting Dante in the leg by accident and presumably being fed to Mateo's master. To stop the bleeding, Mateo cuts off both of Dante's legs in a gruesome fashion, and Dante snaps, angering Mateo. Mateo throws Dante into the trash, where Dante slowly grows insane, refusing to eat their own leg which Mateo throws into with them all as they suffer from the pain in the remains of their legs. Eventually, Dante starts to befriend the maggots living in their chopped off leg. Completely mindbroken, they eat cannibalize whatever flesh Mateo throws into the bin and is eventually rescued by Mateo. Completely mindbroken, Dante happily agrees with Mateo about his point of view and even tries to resew their other leg off, only to have Mateo cut off their hand instead, something which Dante accepts happily. Mateo brings Dante to Kazue's place and ends up killing both of them. Mateo and Dante live... happily until Mateo mentions that his master wants to eat Dante, but he doesn't want them to go. Unwilling to let them be eaten the two seemingly run away together.

In his normal ending, Mateo ends up leaving forever (presumably eaten by his master) while Dante waits happily forever for his return.

In the bad ending, Mateo brings Dante to be eaten (though with great distraughtness) and he eventually gets eaten as well by his master.

Mateo's route is the darkest route with the two creators trying to up themselves in every time. It has rape jokes, cannibalism, cutting off body parts, mindbreak, and basically you really feel for poor Dante in this route. Now the question comes down to the thought of Mateo actually does love Dante in this route or is just incredibly insane and does not do this out of love but out of insanity. You can make a case for both, since Mateo does end up mindbreaking Dante to understanding his point of view. Mateo views humans as lumps of flesh and undeserving since they caused problems for the world, and sees anything that harms the innocent (namely animals as plants) as atrocities, thus has no qualms with killing people or doing horrible things to them like stitching and sewing body parts on weird places. Does breaking Dante's will and personality to understand all of this make him a yandere? Personally, I think it does through the impetration that all of this is Mateo's twisted way of showing love in the sense that he wants Dante to understand his love. I think of it as an extreme Vincent, where Vincent does love Dante but also punishes them to make them follow their rules, to come to an understanding of their place as a housewife. Similarly, Mateo does love Dante (he presents them as his lover to Kazue, has a wedding of sorts in his epilogue in front of his master, constantly keeps them alive despite him having every opportunity and reason to kill them and in the endings is always reluctant to have Dante die by his masters hands, which to him is the most important thing) but is trying to make Dante understand his point of view with his extreme hatred of humans even if it comes to mindbreaking them. If this is actually what Mateo believes as showing love, then I can see him as a yandere since he does love them to this much of an extreme, especially if its through the eyes of a delusional yandere. Understandably, I can see why people don't see him as one, since all of his actions pretty much cause harm to Dante, it's not what you would standardly think of love and is closer to sadism, and he does mindbreak them making you wonder if they cared about Dante in the first place. It's understandable, so that's why I think it can be either or depending on the interpretation of "love".

Anise's route is the final route, starting off with meeting her in the church. Dante then cycles through all of the characters, berating them for leaving them, either their relationship or getting them killed amongst other things. We finally see Anise in her pure form, seeing that she is the master that Mateo so greatly worships. She reveals that everyone is already dead, living in a sort of Dante's Inferno, all wandering around her web until they are filled with so much suffering that Anise eats them. Anise is some sort of god like being, unable to die and consumed by boredom. All the characters are brought because of their strong desire and wishes (get it, dead wishes?) and slowly get more corrupted the longer they are there. Anise and Dante then kind of go off into a morality questionaire, where they can either leave or stay with Anise. Staying with Anise affirms that the two of them are the same, while leaving showcases Dante's strong conviction and Anise waiting for them to come back.

The thing with Anise's route is about the mortality of doing bad or good things and that if our actions in the game make us similar to her, sadistic and cruel or make us different. Honestly, I can understand the concept, but there isn't really any indication that we are jumping from route to route in the game and that we are messing up the relationships we've already made, and for all I knew, I was simply starting a new timeline every time. Personally, I feel like it falls short because not only were we completely unaware we were essentially leaving people behind constantly, but also because Anise goes on and on about how selfish we are, yet in most of the routes, Dante is kind of just reacting to certain things as opposed to purposefully doing bad things. To me there is a difference between choosing to purposefully kill someone (for any reason) and going along with someone killing's because of self defense. While they are both bad, one of them does imply a level of choice while the other restrains it. For instance, in Allegra's route, Dante has the choice to call the police after the man is killed, but it will always lead to Dante being killed by Allegra. There is also a difference between knowing and purposefully ending a route to cut off someone's happiness and moving onto the next one and being unaware that you are doing so, since there then is an actual knowledge of consequence to your actions. Finally, despite all of the bad things we've done of jumping from route to route, Anise makes it feel like it's all Dante's fault and that they've destroyed the happy endings of all of the characters while doing so, when honestly, it shouldn't be up to Dante to determine whether or not they are happy. Yes, it does suck that Dante left them, but regardless of their situation, people are responsible for their own happiness and shouldn't blame it on others. Anise is fascinated by Dante throughout the routes as they see them as like her, callous in the fates of others and using them all as toys when in reality we were most likely oblivious to the suffering we caused.

Anise pretty desperately wants someone like her, to understand what she's like and thus grows obsessed with Dante when she believes they are similar. Despite the fact that she seems to despise the idea of love, she's also strangely fascinated by it when it comes to Dante being similar? The best I can see her as a yandere is kind of an extreme narcissist that projects onto Dante in that they are similar because she's just that lonely, but I can't really say that she is (in my opinion) since she seems to despise love and doesn't hold anything remotely close to love (romantically, platonically or otherwise), only fascination. It's kind of like projecting onto an ant and being fascinated by it because you both are hard workers- it's not really love, just an interest. Still, I suppose if Anise did actually feel love at some point, I could see it as one, but considering again how much Anise despises love... eh...

Also, sidenote, I wish I could get a job as fast as Dante does, cuz this person gets jobs left and right without even trying. I get that they're in a limbo of sorts, but please... I wish I could very easily get a job by attempting to rob someone or something like that.

Anyways, Dead Wishes overall is a very well made game from the voice acting, to the routes, to the UI and soundtrack. All of it is well worth $10s and has a good mix of characters to keep everything interesting and well thought out. I got to play their other games because I heard there was another yandere in one of their other games, so you know how it is. If you are interested, please give it a try- it does not disappoint.

#male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #asks #dead wishes #my fingers hurt again...

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mariana-oconnor · 2 years

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The Dying Detective pt 1

Mrs. Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes, was a long-suffering woman.

Yes! Mrs Hudson content. The recognition she deserves.

His incredible untidiness, his addiction to music at strange hours, his occasional revolver practice within doors, his weird and often malodorous scientific experiments, and the atmosphere of violence and danger which hung around him made him the very worst tenant in London.

Yep, long-suffering. Let's be honest, the woman should have thrown him out long ago. But at least he's paying her good money.

She was fond of him, too, for he had a remarkable gentleness and courtesy in his dealings with women. He disliked and distrusted the sex, but he was always a chivalrous opponent.

Have we seen any examples of him actually disliking women? We've seen him frustrated by them, certainly, or rather by his lack of ability to read them clearly. We've seen misogyny, yes, in line with some of the thinking of the time 'can't tell Mary Sutherland she's being financially abused because it wouldn't do any good'. But Holmes has on multiple occasions, only in the few stories we've read so far, championed women in many ways. I haven't reread A Study in Scarlet or The Sign of Four before reading these, so I can't say about them, but this insistence on Watson's part that he doesn't like women is just weird.

Is that just Watson not understanding that Holmes isn't attracted to women? Like, Watson just can't comprehend how anyone wouldn't see a pretty woman and be overcome, so the fact that Holmes is apathetic to that just Does Not Compute and therefore must mean he dislikes them? Like an on/off switch?

Hoo boy, Watson, I'd love to introduce you to the Kinsey scale.

"He's dying, Dr. Watson," said she. "For three days he has been sinking, and I doubt if he will last the day."

Mrs Hudson is not a trained physician... although I'm not sure how accurate actual doctors were during this period of time. Had germ theory made the big time yet?

Wikipedia says that the in-story date (1890s) is about the time when germ theory was taking over from miasma theory, so by the time this story was published (1913) it would have been pretty well established.

That's not really relevant, I just find the history of medicine and disease fascinating in a lot of ways. For so much of history we just made shit up and hoped it would work. Some of it really did and some of it really didn't, but we didn't know why, so we made up reasons. And given that this was set at a major transitional period in that history, honestly Watson's medical expertise is probably half guess work and wishful thinking... sorry Doctor. I mean, hysteria is still a diagnosis at this point.

"He took to his bed on Wednesday afternoon and has never moved since. For these three days neither food nor drink has passed his lips."

I think I know why he's not looking too good.

"Stand back! Stand right back!" said he with the sharp imperiousness which I had associated only with moments of crisis. "If you approach me, Watson, I shall order you out of the house."

We've already had at least one story in which 'don't look at me too closely' was a massive red flag. It's sort of a nice symmetry to have Holmes using it here. Why can't he come any closer, Sherlock? Huh? Why?

"But why?" "Because it is my desire. Is that not enough?"

Oh look, that's another red flag right there. Honestly, Holmes, you could have at least made some effort at 'you might catch this illness' or something like that. Although I guess maybe Holmes doesn't believe in germ theory? Is he a miasma kind of guy? Or is this one of the areas in which he's just nonsensical and believes in the humours or something like that?

But 'you can't come closer to me because I don't want you to' to your friend the doctor who was summoned specifically to try to help you is just... No, obviously, Watson isn't entitled to an explanation or a reason. Holmes doesn't owe him anything. But on the other hand, Holmes specified that he would allow Mrs Hudson to get Watson. What did he think was going to happen?

I don't remember this story at all, but based on context clues and knowledge that there are more stories to come, I'm going to guess that he's faking it.

"I know what is the matter with me. It is a coolie disease from Sumatra--a thing that the Dutch know more about than we, though they have made little of it up to date. One thing only is certain. It is infallibly deadly, and it is horribly contagious."

Ah, there we are. You couldn't have led with that?

Did you get it from a giant rat?

Sorry, I should be more serious, Holmes is dying. He's dying.

(He actually is if he's not drunk anything in 3 days. Holmes, you moron.)

"Good heavens, Holmes! Do you suppose that such a consideration weighs with me of an instant? It would not affect me in the case of a stranger. Do you imagine it would prevent me from doing my duty to so old a friend?"

I mean obviously Watson wasn't going to listen to him, but whatever.

"Holmes," said I, "you are not yourself. A sick man is but a child, and so I will treat you."

Watson, you're being creepy again. Like, people do need to consent to treatment, my man. I guess, probably not in this time period? You could just say 'they're hysterical' and have done with it, but still. Consent is important. Agency is important. Let's be ethical about this, huh?

Do I think this is all fake and Holmes is only saying this so you won't see through his ingenious ruse? Yes. Do I think you should still respect his wishes and not touch him? Also yes.

✨Consent✨

"If I am to have a doctor whether I will or not, let me at least have someone in whom I have confidence," said he.

Dude, you literally asked for him. Literally. Asked. For. Him.

You are gaslighting him so bad right now. Holmes! Stop abusing your friend. Stop it! Bad detective! No biscuit!

No one in this scene is coming across well, rn, by modern standards.

"In your friendship, certainly. But facts are facts, Watson, and, after all, you are only a general practitioner with very limited experience and mediocre qualifications. It is painful to have to say these things, but you leave me no choice." I was bitterly hurt.

Holmes is being a bitch here, and I will absolutely say it. Watson, your ethics are shaky, but your feelings are valid.

"Possibly not. But I happen to know that Dr. Ainstree, the greatest living authority upon tropical disease, is now in London. All remonstrance is useless, Holmes, I am going this instant to fetch him."

Uno reverso, Holmes!

Honestly, Holmes's worst misjudgement here is thinking Watson would let him get away with dying without doing anything. Did you really think he was just going to say 'oh well, that's a pity; I'd best go home and start writing your eulogy.'

His misreading of the person he is literally closest to in the world is just such a massive blind spot here.

"You won't take the key from me by force, Watson, I've got you, my friend. Here you are, and here you will stay until I will otherwise. But I'll humour you." (All this in little gasps, with terrible struggles for breath between.) "You've only my own good at heart. Of course I know that very well. You shall have your way, but give me time to get my strength. Not now, Watson, not now. It's four o'clock. At six you can go."

Such a dramatic bitch right now. OMG. 😂😂😂

"You will seek help, not from the man you mention, but from the one that I choose."

I get that there's a time issue here, clearly, because Holmes is so insistent on 'six o'clock', but I feel like he could have handled this better.

"By all means." "The first three sensible words that you have uttered since you entered this room, Watson."

Wow.

All modern adaptations are based entirely on this scene, huh?

With fairness to Sherlock, it does seem like Mrs Hudson is at least correct about the starvation and dehydration and we all know being hungry makes people irritable. And being dehydrated makes you kind of loopy and gives you a killer headache. So he's not making the best decisions right now, if that's the case.

We all know what he really needs right now:

Then, unable to settle down to reading, I walked slowly round the room, examining the pictures of celebrated criminals with which every wall was adorned.

I love this description. Imagine sitting in this room with just the worst criminals of all time staring down at you from every wall. True crime chic. Serial killers watching you from every angle. It's absolute nightmare fuel and more what I'd expect from, like, a themed bar that was set up in an old prison.

I' can't imagine it. I'm glad he keeps this to his bedroom and out of the public areas. I can't imagine it would put his clients at ease.

To tell the truth, my desire to fetch a doctor had somewhat weakened, for poor Holmes was so obviously delirious that it seemed dangerous to leave him.

To be fair to Watson here, while often in the stories he seems unnecessarily dense about things, in this case his thoughts are entirely justified.

How much money in his pockets, only half the gas to the fire, pick the box up with sugar tongs. (Poison one assumes)

It may surprise you to know that the man upon earth who is best versed in this disease is not a medical man, but a planter. Mr. Culverton Smith is a well-known resident of Sumatra, now visiting London. An outbreak of the disease upon his plantation, which was distant from medical aid, caused him to study it himself, with some rather far-reaching consequences. He is a very methodical person, and I did not desire you to start before six, because I was well aware that you would not find him in his study.

So this guy poisoned a lot of people with this, huh? That's what I'm getting. And you couldn't have provided this information earlier in such a way that Watson would have stayed with you until then? You had to go the mad route of locking you both in a room together, while not letting him touch anything or talk to you?

"You will tell him exactly how you have left me," said he. "You will convey the very impression which is in your own mind--a dying man--a dying and delirious man. Indeed, I cannot think why the whole bed of the ocean is not one solid mass of oysters, so prolific the creatures seem."

I like to think that Holmes always has at least one little tangent like that going on in his brain, and he's just decided that he'll say it out loud right now to increase the impression of delusion and madness. But actually this is just a glimpse into his head on a normal day.

I do something similar, but I actually do ask the random questions out loud. My immediate family take them seriously, but other people tend to look at me like they are worried there is something wrong with me.

But the answer I have to Holmes' question is predation. Lots of things nomming on oysters. Humans, for one.

His nephew, Watson--I had suspicions of foul play and I allowed him to see it. The boy died horribly. He has a grudge against me.

So, he already poisoned his nephew. Good to know. Good to know

Make any excuse so as not to come with him. Don't forget, Watson. You won't fail me. You never did fail me. No doubt there are natural enemies which limit the increase of the creatures. You and I, Watson, we have done our part. Shall the world, then, be overrun by oysters? No, no; horrible! You'll convey all that is in your mind.

That's what I was saying, Holmes. Predation. I'm glad to know you've done your part to prevent the Oysterpocalypse. Good man.

I have never eaten an oyster, I am falling down in my duties.

I left him full of the image of this magnificent intellect babbling like a foolish child. He had handed me the key, and with a happy thought I took it with me lest he should lock himself in. Mrs. Hudson was waiting, trembling and weeping, in the passage.

Clearly everything is going according to plan, but Holmes you owe these two so much for putting up with you this time.

I still don't remember this story. I am feeling very Gandalf in Moria right now, but my nose says there's something very fishy about Holmes' illness, and it's not the oysters I'm smelling.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #The Dying Detective #long post #shellfish #<- just in case you're allergic 😄

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thefisherqueen · 1 year

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I'm reading Letters from Watson's The Veiled Lodger today on this cloudy, quiet saturday morning. I'm so ready for the coming autumn! Give me rain, cold, long dark evenings to cuddle up in blankets and just do quiet things by myself. But I'll have to wait a while, it'll be sunny and warm again next week here in the Netherlands

When one considers that Mr. Sherlock Holmes was in active practice for twenty-three years Wish I could retire after only 23 years. I'd be halfway there already

There is the long row of year-books which fill a shelf, and there are the dispatch-cases filled with documents, a perfect quarry for the student, not only of crime, but of the social and official scandals of the late Victorian era. My librarian and social historian and archivist heart is fluttering at this

I deprecate, however, in the strongest way the attempts which have been made lately to get at and to destroy these papers. The source of these outrages is known, and if they are repeated I have Mr. Holmes's authority for saying that the whole story concerning the politician, the lighthouse and the trained cormorant will be given to the public. There is at least one reader who will understand. A very politely worded threat. Tread carefully, unknown citizen, I don't think that Watson will take kindly to any kind of danger regarding his dear Holmes. I do want to read about those buglary attempts, though. And certainly about the trained cormorant

But the most terrible human tragedies were often involved in these cases which brought him the fewest personal opportunities, and it is one of these which I now desire to record. So I'll need to prepare for a tragedy today? *grabs some tissues*

an elderly, motherly woman of the buxom landlady type What does that mean? *googles buxom landlady* Oh. Pretty much the only results are literal porn videos and erotic fiction novels. Not what I expected. Did Watson really just call her the victorian equavalent to a milf?

"This is Mrs. Merrilow, of South Brixton," said my friend, with a wave of the hand. "Mrs. Merrilow does not object to tobacco, Watson, if you wish to indulge your filthy habits. I hope Watson told Holmes to shut his nicotine stained mouth after this

Mrs. Merrilow has an interesting story to tell which may well lead to further developments in which your presence may be useful." "Anything I can do——" It's probably just a result of me looking up 'buxom', but this reads like the start of a porn script. Fucking hilarious

You say that Mrs. Ronder has been your lodger for seven years and that you have only once seen her face." "And I wish to God I had not!" said Mrs. Merrilow. "It was, I understand, terribly mutilated." Now that switches the mood around really quickly. Who did what to this poor lady's face

She seems to be wasting away. And there's something terrible on her mind. 'Murder!' she cries. 'Murder!' And once I heard her, 'You cruel beast! You monster!' she cried. It was in the night, and it fair rang through the house and sent the shivers through me. So I went to her in the morning. 'Mrs. Ronder,' I says, 'if you have anything that is troubling your soul, there's the clergy,' I says, 'and there's the police. Between them you should get some help.' 'For God's sake, not the police!' says she, 'and the clergy can't change what is past. And yet,' she says, 'it would ease my mind if someone knew the truth before I died.' I will really need those tissues, won't I? I like that women go to Holmes with their troubles, probably having heard from other women that he will be sympathetic and respectful and willing to help

Our visitor had no sooner waddled out of the room—no other verb can describe Mrs. Merrilow's method of progression Very, very unnecessairy addition, Watson

For a few minutes there was a constant swish of the leaves, and then with a grunt of satisfaction he came upon what he sought. So excited was he that he did not rise, but sat upon the floor like some strange Buddha, with crossed legs, the huge books all round him, and one open upon his knees. Holmes has the best poses

The caravan had halted for the night at Abbas Parva, which is a small village in Berkshire England really has the funniest place names

He was the rival of Wombwell, and of Sanger, one of the greatest showmen of his day. There is evidence, however, that he took to drink, and that both he and his show were on the down grade at the time of the great tragedy. A case of abuse in the world of show business, then

"They had among their exhibits a very fine North African lion. Sahara King was its name *does some reasearch* I learnt a new Thing. Apperently lions used to be quite common in north Africa. Since the 60's the local population is considered extinct in the wild. I guess, then, that it was the lion who attacked this woman

There was no other point of interest in the evidence, save that the woman in a delirium of agony kept screaming, 'Coward! Coward!' as she was carried back to the van in which they lived. Now that is curious. Did mr. Ronder assault the lion in some way, maybe, upon which it turned against them?

"I should think the whole camp was crying out by then. As to the other points, I think I could suggest a solution." "I should be glad to consider it." I think it is the first time so far that Watson comes up with his own theory? Keep doing that my dear :)

I fear I lied to him. Perhaps it would have been wiser had I told the truth." "It is usually wiser to tell the truth. But why did you lie to him?" "Because the fate of someone else depended upon it. I know that he was a very worthless being, and yet I would not have his destruction upon my conscience. We had been so close—so close!" Is she talking about her husband, which would make not much sense as he was already dead, or about someone else?

"You compliment me, madam. At the same time, I am a responsible person. I do not promise you that when you have spoken I may not myself think it my duty to refer the case to the police." Refreshing honesty from Holmes here

Reading is the only pleasure which Fate has left me, and I miss little which passes in the world. :(

"Those two pictures will help you, gentlemen, to understand the story. I think I know where this is going. Did ms. Ronder have an extramarrial affair with the strongman?

When I became a woman this man loved me, if such lust as his can be called love, and in an evil moment I became his wife. From that day I was in hell, and he the devil who tormented me. Husband was an abusive asshole

"Then Leonardo came more and more into my life. You see what he was like. I know now the poor spirit that was hidden in that splendid body, but compared to my husband he seemed like the Angel Gabriel. He pitied me and helped me, till at last our intimacy turned to love—deep, deep, passionate love, such love as I had dreamed of but never hoped to feel. So they did have an affair. But he was abusive, too. This is a very sad story

One night my cries brought Leonardo to the door of our van. We were near tragedy that night, and soon my lover and I understood that it could not be avoided. My husband was not fit to live. We planned that he should die. Murder! And then, after, the strongman also attempted to murder her? Oh, no, I think the lion was seen mauling her face. Something clearly went wrong

Leonardo could have saved me. If he had rushed forward and struck the beast with his club he might have cowed it. But the man lost his nerve. I heard him shout in his terror, and then I saw him turn and fly. That explains the shouting of 'coward!' Can't really blame the strongman for freaking out, though, that's a natural reaction

Its hot, filthy breath had already poisoned me and I was hardly conscious of pain. I think that was the adrealine, madam

When I came to myself, and saw myself in the mirror, I cursed that lion—oh, how I cursed him!—-not because he had torn away my beauty, but because he had not torn away my life. I had but one desire, Mr. Holmes, and I had enough money to gratify it. It was that I should cover myself so that my poor face should be seen by none, and that I should dwell where none whom I had ever known should find me. That was all that was left to me to do—and that is what I have done. A poor wounded beast that has crawled into its hole to die—that is the end of Eugenia Ronder." Very tragic. Cruel world, making her feel like she like she had to cover her face and hide away. The misogyny of it all. Is it really the worst thing that can happen to a woman, to get visible scars and deformities? Are our appearances really our whole worth? Men with scars are at least considered heroes. Women are just 'ugly'

But what of this man Leonardo?" "I never saw him or heard from him again. Perhaps I have been wrong to feel so bitterly against him. He might as soon have loved one of the freaks whom we carried round the country as the thing which the lion had left. She speaks with such loathing of herself. Horrible of Leonardo to abandon her

"Your life is not your own," he said. "Keep your hands off it." "What use is it to anyone?" "How can you tell? The example of patient suffering is in itself the most precious of all lessons to an impatient world." I will not cry I will not cry

Holmes held up his hand in a gesture of pity and protest What would that look like? I can't picture it

Two days later, when I called upon my friend, he pointed with some pride to a small blue bottle upon his mantelpiece. I picked it up. There was a red poison label. A pleasant almondy odour rose when I opened it. "Prussic acid?" said I. "Exactly. It came by post. 'I send you my temptation. I will follow your advice.' That was the message. I think, Watson, we can guess the name of the brave woman who sent it." She didn't! I'm so relieved. I need to believe she keeps in touch with Watson and Holmes and someday feels free to go outside unveiled

I made it without crying. Well, that was certainly a different kind of story than most of the other ones. Quite beautiful, though, it evoked some deep thoughts. I loved the ending

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #the veiled lodger

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b-afterhours · 9 months

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Avenue of Sins: Neon

A sequel to Avenue of Sins

SUMMARY: ‘90s. It’s the aftermath. Jaded, Bill and Alma navigate their new lives as they try to drag themselves out of the dark debacherous trenches they had once ensnared themselves in. It’s easy to forget their evils when a silver lining introduces itself into their lives but can they create a less hedonistic life that would be just as satisfying?

WARNINGS: adult content, mature readers only.

The completed first series can be read and found here.

Chapter Eight

February 1993

Bill looked around the small apartment filled with a dozen rose bouquets he had delivered to her home for Valentine's Day a few days prior. He had worked on Valentine's as it was a popular and busy night at the club but he had left earlier than usual to watch Simion’s boxing match. While Alma still held onto him she looked up and by the look on his face, he seemed fatigued from the travel. Being tall he could see above the couch's backrest and saw Echo napping hard and splayed out with her arms above her head.

The juxtaposition between his penthouse and Alma’s apartment always rattled him every time he visited. Together they lived in nice apartments in NYC but never stayed long enough to personalize it. Alma’s apartment wasn’t a terrible place to live by any means, it was perfect for herself and Echo. Though besides the couches and everything in Echo’s nursery, almost everything looked second hand and they most likely were. He had access to one of two of her bank accounts and noticed her monthly statements were average, maybe even less than that sometimes. She probably only used it for groceries and bills. The only big purchase he ever noticed was when she bought her used Jeep. The other bank account she had she most likely used whenever she needed things for Echo to keep him in the dark until she was ready. She never seemed to touch their joint offshore accounts even though she could access them without a hassle or permission.

He just found it odd sometimes but he understood that a seemingly single mother working at a record shop shouldn’t live beyond the means of that metric. Compared to Strathburg living she was doing very well in the facade she had built for herself in Seattle. The life Bill had built in New York was simply unfathomable to those back home though. Besides that, he liked where she lived, the sleepy neighborhood looked good and boring and all her neighbors were old and retired women. The landlady lived just on the other side of the wall in the four-apartment building and while she liked to lease to retirees she took a chance on a young mother and her infant child. He knew she lived in a studio before finding this place and he always wondered what that was like.

“Why didn’t you call? I was going to pick you up?” Alma said to him.

“I know… I just didn’t feel like waiting around anymore after that bullshit delay,” he said, turning to pick up his duffle bag he had dropped by the door.

“You only brought one bag?”

“My luggage is in the trunk of the rental. I’ll get it later,” he took her hand and walked around the couch to admire his sleeping daughter. She looked like she had gotten so much bigger in the weeks he hadn’t seen her. “Is she feeling better?” He asked leaning down to touch a short lock of her golden hair.

Echo had a bad cold the week prior that Alma suspected she had gotten from another child from their library visits. She hardly slept to ensure that her daughter wasn’t stuffed up with snot, which hindered her breathing in her slumber.

“A lot better,” she assured him. “But she’s still a little foggy, she’s been sleeping hard still like she is right now,” Alma remembered telling him she wasn’t well over the phone and he sounded a bit mad about it. Not at Alma but at the germ that even dared to make his child ill. “You’re here though she’ll be back to her normal self,” she smiled.

She let Bill help himself to her shower and bedroom while she stayed in the living room with their daughter to give him some space. He always felt dirty and dehydrated after flying and a scalding shower was one of the first things he wanted when he arrived at his destination.

Bill left the shower holding onto a towel around his waist and went down the hall where Alma would lay her head. He dug through his duffle bag for a pair of boxers and deodorant to put on and then sat down next to it on the bed before pushing it off. He laid back on the queen-sized bed and sighed loudly as his muscles eased after having been cramped in a plane seat. While her bed was smaller compared to his king-sized one, it definitely felt cozier. It was plush with more pillows than just one person would need. The quilt bedding and frilly pillow shams were all lilac. Much more girly and even more inviting compared to the sleek silk bedding situation he had going on. Even the scent in the room was lovely like lavender and vanilla and a hint of rose from the bouquets permeating the living area. Luckily, he could feel his headache melting away as he finally felt he could relax.

As he dressed himself, he noticed her nightstand which was by her usual side of the bed when he visited. On top of it were her glasses, several black hair ties, a banana clip, and a framed photo of them standing before Bianca’s Christmas tree prom posing. He sat down on the bed after pulling on his sweatpants and picked it up to look at it closely. He always liked how they looked together but more so how he looked and felt with her. He found her to be so much more pleasing to look at than he felt about himself sometimes. Gently, he set the photo down and on impulse quickly pulled open her nightstand drawer. Inside, were lotions and night creams, nail files and nail polishes, and forgotten receipts. He picked up a round light blue plastic case the size of a powder compact and opened it, it was Alma’s birth control pills and he saw that day's pill had been taken. He set it back down when he noticed in the very back of the drawer was a short pink device about the width of a finger and grabbed it. He knew exactly what it was and he smirked. On accident he turned the vibrator bullet on, startling himself, and with fumbling hands he hastily turned it off and quickly placed it back where it belonged.

Alma could hear him coming back to the living room after some time to himself. He was wearing a gray hoodie and matching sweatpants. Even Alma noticed that now when he visited Seattle, he dressed down more than he did in New York. He would bring a nice outfit or two in case but he quickly picked up that wearing designer just signaled to the locals that he wasn’t one of them or worse, that he was a yuppie.

Echo was finally awake sitting on Alma’s lap and babbling a mashed-up version of the alphabet with her back facing him, completely unaware of her father's presence. Alma looked up at him and noticed he looked a bit more refreshed as he approached and he quickly put his finger to his lips. With sock-covered feet, he tried his best to walk softly but even with Alma trying to distract Echo she turned her head in his direction. Before she could react he quickly scooped her up in his arms and she laughed when he kept peppering kisses on her cheek. He sat down next to Alma with Echo’s arms slung around his neck.

“You missed me, baby?” He said holding on to her. “I missed you.”

Echo stood on his lap and then pointed towards the phone that sat on a side table on the other side of Alma. “Papa phone?”

“Hmm?”

“Papa phone.” She pointed again.

“Papa is here, E’,” Alma lightly laughed. “She knows when you call and-”

“She’s associating me with the phone,” Bill raised an eyebrow at her as she scratched her head nervously.

Echo would clamor up her lap whenever she was on the phone, thinking it could be her father on the end of the line. Bill called once in the morning and once in the evening typically. Though the past couple of days before his arrival their conversations were fairly short so that they would have something to talk about when together.

“It’s alright,” Bill said, kissing Echo’s hand to get her to stop pointing at the telephone.

Alma was a bit relieved when he said that she didn’t want him to make it a thing when it wasn’t she was just a baby making associations. Bill helped Echo sit on his lap and then pulled Alma closer to himself wrapping an arm around her. He kissed the top of her head.

“I missed you too,” he said into her hair.

The family stayed in for the rest of the day. Bill decompressed further and even managed to fall asleep on the couch while Alma prepared guacamole for their nacho dinner. She was happy he did because it meant that he was comfortable enough there to do so. Echo was playing on the floor next to him before she began to stack toys and roses along his body making him look like some kind of ritualistic offering which amused her mother.

It was after dinner that they all took a short walk to a convenience store that stood next to a laundromat close by and they spent time choosing snacks and drinks. Bill allowed Echo to run up and down the candy aisle and let her choose whatever caught her eye. Though at the register he told Alma it was for himself and even though she knew it was a white lie she found it endearing. For them, they left with some chips and a case of Rainier beer.

When they came back home Alma took the phone off the hook deciding she wasn’t taking any calls for the rest of that weekend should they come. As night came Bill put Echo to bed himself. He rocked her a bit as he paced the nursery to soothe her enough to lay her down while she had her little hand up to rub the stubble under his jaw. In her room, she also had framed photos hung on her walls, some of herself but also ones of him and her together. One was of them in front of the Washington Square Arch and another of them on Christmas in front of the tree in his penthouse. Being able to see them that way made his heart swell as if he could finally see the way he looked as a father in a still photo. That it didn’t look awkward or strange like he sometimes felt it did. Right next to that photo was the one he took of Alma and her at the Ritz in black and white. Even though he knew the fact, suddenly it hit him that they were really parents to an actual child they created together. He noticed Echo’s hand stilled and looked down at her fast asleep in his long arms. Before laying her down he just stood there for a moment to admire her. His little baby.

When he joined Alma again she had just finished cleaning the kitchen and was shuffling some of her accounting homework she had on her small dining table into a neat pile. He stopped next to her, picking up a thick textbook that was on top of a children's coloring activity book, and flicked through it quickly. To him, it all looked painfully boring.

“You want to learn something or do you want a beer?” Alma said, looking up at him.

“A beer,” he said, giving her a dimpled smirk and handing her textbook back. “Is school still going alright?”

“I have the whiskey you like to drink too by the way,” she said, reaching into the fridge. “But yeah, it’s not so bad. The teacher tries to make it somewhat fun with his little corny jokes,” she shrugged, handing him a beer.

Together they sat on the couch and Alma turned the TV on to a music channel for background noise. Alma was explaining how her classes went and spoke about her classmates with him and learned she was one out of three other girls in her class.

“Last week right before Echo got sick I stayed behind cause I had some questions about an assignment. Mr. Miller helped but then he started telling me that most of the shit we’re even doing can basically all be done by computers these days and then he pulled out this Macintosh Powerbook. Have you seen those?” Bill shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “Well, he showed me this program on there that basically does most of the work for him.”

“You should get a computer then?” He said resting his elbow on the backrest as he spoke to her.

Alma looked around her place for a second and looked back at him. “I don’t even know where the hell to put something like that here,” she laughed. “What do you do on yours anyway?”

“Eh, not much. I only bought it because I wanted to and I was bored mostly,” he reached over to check how much beer she had and quickly went to the kitchen for another round plus some just to have a few waiting on them on the coffee table instead. “So you stay after class to talk to Mr. Miller now?” He said popping the beer tab open and handing her the beer.

Alma rolled her eyes. “Yeah because math just turns me on so bad I stay after class to talk to my nerdy 50-something-year-old teacher?”

“Just wondering,” he said playfully, which earned an annoyed look from Alma. “I do have a question though,” he said looking a bit more serious now.

“What,” Alma asked pensively as she put her drink down.

“Is, um,” he said, straightening up which was making Alma nervous. “Is that vibrator in your nightstand better than me?” He laughed.

“What fuck you went through my drawer?” She said, pinching him under his arm. He winced as he pulled his arm away and pulled her onto his lap which made her giggle.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“What do you mean you didn’t mean to?”

His only response was to kiss her on the lips because he had no excuse for his impulsive snooping.

“Why do you always like to tease me about stuff,” she pouted while he trailed kisses down her neck to her collarbone.

“Mm,” he paused his lips but his hands snuck inside her shirt. “I’m sorry. I just get jealous when people get your time and I don’t. Especially that little friend you have in the nightstand.”

“It isn’t better than you but it’s helpful,” she giggled, pecking his lips. “We can even use it together?” She said standing up to kick off her leggings but before she could straddle his waist he leaned forward. With his large hands on her waist, he pushed her oversized flannel up and kissed her belly down to the waistband of her panties, and pulled them down to kiss her pussy mound with adoration.

His other hand ran up her inner thigh and quickly he pulled her panties to the side. A finger ran through her wet slit and he groaned under his breath as he bit his lip.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he questioned as he put his middle finger in his mouth to taste her. He leaned back and adjusted himself when he felt himself starting to grow in his boxers.

Alma chuckled under her breath as she straddled his lap finally. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day.” She admitted as she kissed him along his stubbly jaw.

“Fuck me too,” he said in earnest. If it was up to him he would have taken her there on the floor when he first walked into her apartment.

As they were feverishly kissing, their tongues collided with each other. Alma could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants and she moaned against his lips. He could feel her cold hands sneak into his hoodie and meet his warm skin. It made him jump a bit but the change of temperature felt tantalizing. They broke away for a moment so that he could help her take his hoodie off but as he tried to meet her lips again he paused. Alma's brows were furrowed with a bewildered look in her eyes as she ran a hand over his much more prominent abs. He had always had them but now they looked closer to chiseled marble.

“What the hell have you been doing?” She asked looking back at him.

“Eh,” he scratched the back of his neck feeling slightly self-conscious. “You know I’ve worked out a few times with Simion.”

“A few times?” She asked skeptically, grabbing his much more developed biceps as these weren’t the results you’d get from only a few casual visits to the boxing gym.

Bill held on to her tightly and swiftly got up with her legs still wrapped around his waist making her yelp. He didn’t want her to get ahead of herself when he finally had her where he wanted her.

“Shh. Remember we can’t be too loud here,” he reminded her walking them to the bedroom as she kissed along his neck.

He kissed her and then he practically tossed her on the bed which made her laugh. She hurried towards the side of the bed where he stood and reached for the waistband of his sweatpants eager to free his erection but he intercepted her and reached for her shirt to pull off instead. He was pleased that she wasn’t wearing a bra, he noticed that all day especially because she purposely had a few top buttons of the oversized flannel open. He pushed her back on the bed and instructed her to scoot backward a bit and she happily obliged. He hooked one hand around her knee and the other ran along her panty-clad pussy. As his finger pressed along her slit he could feel her wetness soak through prompting him to lean down. Replacing his hand, he teasingly ran his tongue along the cotton fabric making her whimper in anticipation. The warmth of his tongue and the taunting pressure of the fabric against her clit made her hips buck for more.

“Take them off for me,” he demanded as he righted himself to quickly do away with his boxers and sweatpants. He even plucked off his socks because Alma once told him he was weird for leaving them on if he was fully naked.

Alma reached down to her waist and took off her cheeky black panties and playfully tossed them at his chest. He smiled as he crawled on top of the bed with her now. Taking her knees he pushed them together and then against her chest causing her hips to rise a bit from the mattress and on perfect display for him. Without a warning he took two long fingers and pushed them inside her, making her gasp. Bill swallowed hard as her slickness coated his curled fingers and he had to keep himself from just burying himself deep inside her instead. He had gone so long without her he ached. The panties she had hidden for him to find and he would wrap around his hard cock and the occasional phone sex just could never compare. He wanted to savor this break from a dry spell but his throbbing cock was wanting to already feel her warmth and tightness around it.

He continued working his fingers as he reintroduced his swirling tongue to her bare clit reaching a rhythm. Alma’s hand clasped around her mouth to stifle the moans that erupted out of her. When his lips wrapped around her clit and she could feel the reverberations of his grunt, her head fell back on the mattress as her eyes rolled and the tension melted from her body as she came. He could feel her squirming from the sensitivity so slowly he stopped his movements while she caught her breath. He leaned back on his knees and spat her arousal in his hand and wrapped it around his erection to coat his cock in her slick. He started to position himself between her legs but she gently stopped him.

“Do you want to use the vibrator?” She asked.

“No,” he shook his head. “I want to be the reason you’re coming.”

Alma could see his eyes darken and looked at her hungrily. She turned around then and positioned herself on her hands and knees. The sight of her plump ass perked up in the air excited him like no other. To him, it indicated that she didn’t want it so sweet.

He crawled off the bed to stand right at the edge of it and then reached forward gripping her hips to pull her back towards him so that their bodies aligned better. Alma looked back at him in anticipation and their eyes met. He had a devious look in his eyes as he leaned down to kiss her ass cheek and then brought his hand down hard to smack it. Alma wailed briefly before it turned into a loud moan as she felt the sting of it tickle up her spine. He ran his hand from her lower back up to the middle of her shoulder blades prompting her to lay her chest to the mattress and his hand ran back up caressing the perfect slope of her back. Lining himself at her entrance he pushed in and his eyes fluttered closed as her warmth enveloped him so completely. Moans from deep in their chest escaped their lips.

Thrusting deeply inside her tight cunt his mind was stuck on the feeling and sounds of their bodies pleasuring each other and the moans and pants filling the room. His hands took a possessive grip of her hips tightly pulling her own body into his thrusts with the strength of his new bulging muscles.

“Shhh,” he said as a reminder as she struggled to stifle her moans.

She caught her breath in her throat while she pressed her face into the mattress to muffle her moans but it didn’t help much. As the friction of their bodies continued she could feel the crescendo just around the corner. He was so mercilessly deep inside her that it was making her a blubbering mess. Then the new rhythm he created made her body respond favorably and he knew by how she began to pulse around him. He looked down at her, her face was crushed in the mattress as she bit onto her knuckle to keep from sounding out her pleasure. Quickly he reached for a pillow and tossed it by her head.

“Here. Fucking scream into that.” He said through deep pants.

She reached up for it and once she had her face in the pillow he smacked her ass again and hearing her muffled holler sent him over the edge especially how she continued tightening around him.

“Ah fuck you feel so good… come with me,” his jaw fell, feeling her body intensely respond to his. “Give it to me,” he said, listening to her muffled screams.

He couldn’t hold off any longer as the shockwave of pleasure enraptured him. He snapped his hips with each spurt of cum that was now pooling inside her. He gave her a few languorous thrusts before collapsing on her. He could feel her body shuttering and gently he removed the pillow away from her face. Just as his lips parted to say something he paused and noticed that she was crying. She tried to quickly wipe them away, feeling silly for them.

“Alma?” He said concerned as he slowly pulled out of her causing her to whimper from the disconnect.

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her towards him to face him. His hand cupped her chin and she began to giggle under her breath a bit as she sniffled. He didn’t know quite what to make of it.

“Did I do something? What’s wrong?” His heart pounded against his chest with worry.

Alma took a deep shuddering breath and put her hand to his cheek to kiss him passionately. That somewhat eased his worrying heart. While still kissing she got him to follow her full lips into a more comfortable lying position right beside her.

“I’m fine. I don’t know… you make me feel so good. I fucking missed you,” she said cuddling into his side.

“Are you sure,” he said, putting a finger under her chin and tilting it up so that he could search her eyes. They were still heavy with lust and satisfaction.

“Yes,” she assured him. “I feel so much better,” she sighed wistfully. “Don’t you?”

“Mhm,” he nodded. “I think I need a damn cigarette,” he said laughing.

After lying while caressing their tender bodies and kissing each other Bill got up from the bed to wash up in the bathroom and brought back a damp warm washcloth to help her clean up. When he came back from tossing it in the bathroom hamper he saw Alma up from the bed in a short black silk kimono she didn’t bother tying closed. She was on her tiptoes reaching for the top shelf in her small closet and grabbing a small wooden box.

“Shut the door,” she told him.

While he closed it she walked around her room, her kimono blowing away from her naked body as she opened the windows as wide as they would go which let the cool breeze waft in the scent of rain and mud into the room. Bill pulled his boxers back on and sat against the headboard when she joined him.

“Do you want a cig’ or do you want a joint?” She asked him as she opened the box producing a lighter and pre-rolled joint from it.

“You smokin’ all the time now?” He asked her, grabbing the box to look inside it himself. It was empty now and speckled with bits of bud and ash. He closed it, settling it on the bed.

“Eh not really,” she said, putting the joint between her lips and lighting it. “I’ve just been saving this for a rainy day,” she said, winking at him. “But really no, it makes me fucking lazy when I’m by myself. The last time I smoked here I just fell asleep.” She took a deep drag and then passed it to him.

They only smoked it down halfway just enough for them to feel nice. At one point Bill held the smoke in his lungs to grab Alma’s face with one hand and blew the smoke into her parted lips as she inhaled it. The first time he had ever done that was in high school and it wasn’t the smoke making her dizzy then but how his full rosy lips hovered above hers. Alma put the box away in her closet again and then lit a warm vanilla incense stick to help usher the weed smell out the open windows.

“Did you ever get that package I mailed out last week?” She asked him, crawling back up on the bed and between his legs to cuddle with him.

“No,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “What was it?”

“It was your Valentine's gift,” she groaned. “You’ll see when you get back home then. You’ll like it.” She said looking up at him with a cheeky smile.

“Panties?” He guessed.

“I think you have enough of them don’t you think?” She laughed.

“Well,” he playfully shrugged.

“How was Simion’s Valentine's fight?”

“Yeah… that’s a long story.”

“Bad?”

“Eh, no not exactly.” He said rubbing the silk fabric of her kimono between his fingers.

“I know you told me you took Payday to it. So are they like… together together now?”

Bill nodded his head in response and then straightened up. They both got into a more comfortable position. This time Bill laid his head on Alma’s chest who played with his hair as he began to tell her about his Valentine's Day.

#my bill writings #bill skarsgard #avenue of sins #aos neon

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kiribaku-fics-whatever · 2 years

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Roommates

The Quiet Dance by justalogicalruse

"Why don’t we find a place together?" Eijirou had asked him, talking through a mouthful of food.

"What are you on about now, Shitty Hair?"

"After we graduate," Eijirou swallowed, "Why don’t we live together?"

It was a smart idea, Katsuki can acknowledge that. He should have thought of it himself. Their agencies are near each other, rent will be cheaper, he won’t have to put up with some shitty roommate he met online, etc etc. There’s a hundred reasons why living with Eijirou made sense, not one of them being 'I don’t want to lose you when this madness is over'.

---

Katsuki finds himself falling hopelessly in love with his best friend, struggling to come to terms with his feelings and the concept of emotional vulnerability.

Sun Sets Red by Shippeh

Eijirou Kirishima considered himself lucky. He'd been accepted to a good college, he was picking up new friends like flies to sugar, and the random lottery had paired him with a really cool roommate, Izuku.

Unfortunately, the new roommate seemed to come unconditionally with a very bizarre asshole of a dude.

For You in Warm Summer by Dionte

Kirishima got into the school of his dreams on a soccer scholarship, and he was excited. He was prepared for the tough training and classes, but he wasn’t prepared for one thing. His new roommate, Bakugo Katsuki.

Fight Me by mr_todoroki

Bright red, spiky hair. Annoyingly bright smile. Clothes that radiate ‘look at me’ vibes. Neon yellow tank top with black shorts. And those were definitely crocs on his fucking feet.

Yeah, Katsuki hated this guy.

Bakugou gets a new roommate.

A Damn Good Pair by PurplePersnickety

Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder what the public would think if they saw Kirishima the way he was at home. He cried at romcoms like the sap that he was, touched every time by the romance-by-numbers formula. He told stupid jokes and waited with eager eyes for Katsuki to laugh at them. He sang cheesy power ballads in the shower in the middle of the fucking day.

He was a dork, and honestly? Anyone who saw it would probably find themselves more endeared by him. Too bad for all those desperate fans that they didn’t get to be Kirishima’s roommate, ha.

Falling on Deaf Ears by boatsyournotes

When Bakugou told people he was Deaf to get out of socializing, he didn't think much of it. A few weeks later, basically the entire campus knows he's Deaf and he's been assigned a roommate that knows sign language. He's ready to hate his roommate and spend the entire school year ignoring him, but there's just something about Kirishima that he can't help but like. Things get complicated when Bakugou hears Kirishima say things he isn't supposed to hear.

but i've got an angry heart by newamsterdam

He’s about to open his door to go to the shared bathroom on this floor when he notices the scrap of paper that’s been pushed under his door. It’s a salmon-colored flashcard, the type that’s sold in 500-packs with multiple colors. Bakugou stoops to retrieve it, frowning at the message he finds written on it.

Hey neighbor, welcome to the house! I heard you knocking things around, yesterday, and I think you maybe punched a wall? Anyway, the landlady gets pissy if you put holes in the wall, but I have a punching bag! You can come over and use it, or I can move it into the hall, if you want!

There’s only one other bedroom on the fourth floor. Now, Bakugou crosses the hall to the bedroom on the right side, slamming the post-it note against the door.

Fuck off and die, it reads.

Bakugou Katsuki is not going to jeopardize his future a second time, and that means staying away from anyone who gets too close. Kirishima Eijirou has never learned how not to be close to someone. Of course, they end up as next-door neighbors.

Don't by Trenchcoatkitten

Kirishima is out of a place to live - and Bakugou gives him a perfect solution

And they were roommates. (Oh my god they were roommates) Basically I just needed these babies being soft and sweet and domestic okay. Light angst cause I'm ~still a piece of garbage~ and I can't help it.

come on crash into me, 'cause i want us to collide by rronanllynch

Bakugou can't figure out why he's suddenly homophobic after he moves in with Kirishima. (Plot twist: it turns out he doesn't have any problem with Kirishima kissing guys if it’s him he’s kissing.)

Based on this absolutely iconic reddit post: https://www.gaystarnews.com/article/straight-guy-worries-hes-homophobic-gay-roommate-ends-falling-love/

shapes in the dark by sobistars

“Hey, Bakugou?”

“I said go to sleep!”

“I can’t sleep,” he reminds him, smiling when Bakugou just grumbles in response. “I was thinking.”

“That’s a surprise. Clear your head, stupid.”

“I can’t,” Kirishima whines. “I was thinking, you could come up to my bunk.”

Teeth and Hearts are Bared by dragontrappedinhumanskin

Newly turned vampire Bakugo is having trouble adjusting, until he runs into a human who knows a lot more then him.

Bakugo’s eyes dropped as the man sat down, and caught on white bandages wrapped around the man’s left forearm and the memories of last night rushed through Bakugo’s head.

“Are—” Bakugo gaped and snapped his mouth shut, eyes darting up to meet the man’s gaze, “How are you alive?”

the fool's rush by chonideno

Settling down with each other is naturally what comes after being dorm neighbors for years. It’s time to navigate through adulthood together, to live the daily grind of being pro-heroes, to learn more than they thought they’d like to know about each other, about themselves.

Or how Bakugou and Kirishima find a way to call each other “home” and struggle with the realization that once all their bills are on auto-pay, the only thing they still have to deal with is this pit full of feelings they have ignored for too long.

#bnha #kiribaku #bakushima #kiribaku fic rec #the writer rocked #writers #list

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thebonggirll · 1 year

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chapter six

< previous: chapter five

Jongwoo was wrong.

He thought Moonjo was the only person that he can relate to, but after the conversation they just had, he realized how that was absolutely not the case. Okay, he can admit that Moonjo was actually much more normal than the rest. Maybe he was overthinking after his little statement about killing people, cause he can sense how he liked to scare people in the first place. Or maybe he just became abnormal after staying in a place like this. He can't blame him.

Cause he too, in fact, started losing his patience.

Maybe Moonjo wasn't aware at all of his behavior after staying with these people. Whatever the case, Jongwoo didn't yet want to lose the little bond. He was the only escape from this hellish place.

The next day, he tried talking to his girlfriend about the events, but she actually sounded pissed. Well, she was having a hard time too and he wanted to know the reason behind it. Maybe if she vents it out to him, she might actually feel better. But ever since he came here, it felt like she didn't care enough to talk to him.

Almost like she found him annoying and sensitive.

All of it, starting from the people in the building, his boss, the insecure colleague to his girlfriend, everything was starting to take a toll on him. Maybe these little jabs to him won't bother any other person, but it was a headache to him. He just wanted one day to relax instead of worrying 24/7 about what was going on around him.

That was probably the reason why he got impulsive and thought of having a beer with Moonjo later. Yes, he was creepy but currently, he was the only one who actually made him feel a bit at ease. Moonjo made him feel like he didn't need to have everything under control. He can do whatever he wanted to do.

"Mr. Jongwoo?" Hearing the voice, he got startled and looked back. It was the police officer who came searching for a person who went missing.

"Oh, I didn't mean to scare you! I'm sorry," she apologized and then asked, "Are you not feeling well?"

Of course, people who are observant will definitely notice the struggle on his face. How come Jieun didn't?

"Me? I didn't get much sleep last night," he said fidgeting and opening his backpack, taking out a small notepad, "and this belonged to the foreigner that lived there before."

"Thank you," she said.

"I'll get going now," he said and started walking away but stopped, hearing her call him once again.

"Jongwoo, did anything strange happen in the studio?"

"Anything strange?" he asked, contemplating if it would be a good idea to let her know about his suspicion.

"Yes."

"Well, I was told that nobody lives on the fourth floor, but I keep hearing sounds."

"What sounds?"

"Thumping sounds. I keep hearing them but..." his voice trailed off as he looked at the end of the street. Jongwoo felt shivers down his spine.

Wasn't that the landlady?

He looked back at the police officer and quickly said, "I don't know," before leaving for his office. His mind was filled with questions.

What was she doing here? She has nothing to do on this street in the first place. Was she following him? He halted by his steps as he crashed into a girl. She was yelling at him for dropping the coffee she was carrying, on her. For some reason, maybe because he was too busy to think about the landlady, he tried to help her in a way that he would've never thought of before. Why did he even try to clean the stains on her dress with his shirt? What was he thinking?

He was not sure why so many things were going wrong when the day began. But he was sure of one thing.

Beer just won't do it for him. He needed a damn drink after his shift was over.

Jongwoo felt under the weather. He sat up on his bed with a splitting headache and looked at his surroundings, and then at himself. He felt his heart drop.

Not only was he in a different room, but he was also not wearing clothes. He tried his best to remember the last night's events but he just couldn't remember them clearly. All he remembers is how he met up with Moonjo after his shift was over and had some drinks. He started talking about his career, and books, and somehow the conversation slid toward the residents.

He groaned and got up, finding his clothes neatly kept on the table. Jongwoo realized he must've been a huge hassle to Moonjo. At least he was a gentleman enough to not enter his room when he was intoxicated. But he was a bit worried.

He felt an uncomfortable pain in his lower back. Well, the building didn't offer much comfort in the first place. It was a surprise Moonjo was still living in this hellhole.

As he was about to leave the room, he came face to face with his drinking partner.

"Did you sleep comfortably?" Moonjo asked quirking his head to the left, looking at him.

Jongwoo kept his eyes fixed on his face. He was extremely wary of this person at the moment, knowing the man before him stood with a bare chest and wearing jeans, a towel around his neck, and somewhat of wet hair. Why was he suddenly so focused on his presence? Why were his cheeks feeling hot?

"Uh yes, thank you for taking care of me last night," Jongwoo smiled, "I'm sorry but I need to get ready for work. Thank you." He quickly went off toward his room.

Throughout the day, Jongwoo was a bit out of it. He tried his best to remember the events of last night but he wasn't able to. At the end of his shift, when he got invited to drink with his colleagues he couldn't decline. Although drinking quietly, his mind kept going back to him.

"Oh, looks like someone had a busy night yesterday," Yoojung whispered to him. He looked back at her, his heart started beating fast. Yoojung pointed out towards his neck and then fixed his collar, to hide something that he could only understand as a hickey.

Hickey?

And then he remembered something from this morning. When he looked at Moonjo's face, from his peripheral vision, he could make out that there were some red marks on his body. Earlier he tried to ignore it but now that he thinks about it carefully, there was a mark on his shoulder that he was clear about. A bite mark.

As his thoughts were jumbled, his office colleagues left the restaurant to go for a second round at another place. On the way he seemed to see the face of the same guy whom he has been thinking of the whole day. But when he looked back again, he disappeared. Running into the alley, he tried to find the familiar face once again but much to his dismay, he wasn't able to.

He was starting to feel scared and angry. Jongwoo was too scared to go back to that building. What happened last night? Why do the people living in the building keep following him?

Most importantly, did he cheat on Jieun?

next: chapter seven >

forever, jagiya.

MASTERLIST

#jongwoo x moonjo #yoon jongwoo #seo moon jo #jongmoon #strangers from hell

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zealouscanonindeer · 1 year

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3. A trip to sussex then?

Series Masterlist

Emily Cartwright:

It was not uncommon for the residents of Mrs. Croft's boarding house for young ladies to receive male visitors despite the Rules, generally the hopeful and deliriously romantic but disgracefully penniless suitors in avoidance of which many of the women were sent here in the first place. My own story, of course, was slightly different from the prevailing one: my father kept bringing young men around in the hopes of marrying me off to one of them (probably just to get me off his hands), generally sons of friends or business acquaintances who, doubtless upon hearing a description of me, expected a blushing bride-to-be or a demure china doll. It should be clear to the reader by now that my father and I were often at cross-purposes on the marriage front, and I found the young men to be condescending and thoroughly exasperating.

The last one was trying to convince me of the great virtues to be found in bearing and raising sons for him when he lost an eye-tooth. You'd think Englishmen under the age of twenty-five were made of glass.

As I was saying, it was not uncommon for the other young ladies to receive male visitors (although Mrs Croft had tried and failed to discourage such visits), but apparently I was the only one in English history to receive two such visitors in the same day. I will however, admit that the two visitors could not be more different in appearance: there was Wiggins, an untidy young waif (whose Christian name I never quite learned) who was by no means short but still apparently had some growing to do before he reached full manhood, and who was always grateful for charity. Then there was Sherlock Holmes, who always dressed tidily except when circumstances dictated otherwise, and who presently looked like he'd rather have his toenails trimmed with a woodsman's axe than be sitting there waiting in the front lobby, still buttoned up in his greatcoat but with his muffler hanging loose around his neck, and with an ear-flapped winter cap perched on his knees, to ask me for anything.

He immediately stood when he saw me enter the lobby, his eyes lighting up just enough to let me know that his presence here wasn't entirely under duress.

"Good evening, Mr Holmes," I greeted him, only emphasising the "Mr" for the sake for Mrs Croft, our self-appointed chaperone, who was knitting ferociously by the fire, sitting just within casual earshot to make sure we didn't spontaneously do something embarrassing right there in the sitting room.

"Miss Cartwright," Holmes replied, clasping my hand briefly in those elegant fingers of his, "Before we get to the heart of the matter... how are you in dealing with ghosts?"

Sherlock Holmes:

How quickly the orderly mind tends to misfile important details - like my otherwise anticipated internal reaction to Emily's entrance in response to my summons. I was, of course, pleased that she was willing to speak with me, but the rest of it... I couldn't quite decipher the remainder, especially the fact that my mouth went dry as soon as she'd appeared. I had forgotten the chief flaw of asking for her help, of course, but I was determined to deal with it the best I could, and I refocused my mind on the task at hand as we sat across from each other, using the busy clicking of the landlady's knitting needles to centre myself.

"Well, I can't say I've met any ghosts," Emily said in response to my initial query, "and you don't strike me as the type to go about chasing spooks, yourself."

"The reason I ask," I replied, "is that Inspector Lestrade has asked for my help in investigating what appears to be a haunting in Sussex."

"'Appears'?"

"Either it is a true haunting, which I doubt, or it is a series of perfectly mundane events made to look like a haunting - I have encountered such many times, and each time it proves to be the work of mortal hands."

"All right," she smiled. "So, are you going to tell me any details or are you going to make me guess?"

I outlined the case as far as I knew it, choosing my words carefully when I described the activities of the "ghost". Emily wasn't fooled.

"What do you mean by 'attacking'?" she pressed, "If there was some monster out there hurting young women, I'd bet my left boot that the police wouldn't stop until they caught him."

"From the look Lestrade got on his face, I'd say it was more subtle than a physical assault." I hesitated. "He seemed to imply that the assailant was touching them. Intimately." I'm almost certain my face remained absolutely impassive.

"Oh," she said, "You mean to say some twisted pervert is ..."

I heard the landlady drop a stitch in her knitting. I was a bit startled at the abrupt summary myself, but it was, as far as I knew, accurate.

"Yes, essentially," I conceded.

"So, where do I come in? I bet you and Watson could wrestle him to the ground between the two of you."

"It was he who suggested I ask for you help, and in the time it took me to find you, I came up with a possible plan - I'm fully prepared to discard it, of course, if you refuse."

She looked at me expectantly, then smiled again as I hesitated. "Oh, out with it already. I can't say one way or the other until you do."

I took a deep breath. "We set a trap," I said in a low voice, "We check into the inn, posing as husband and wife, and wait for the Ghost to strike."

She matched my conspiratorial tone. "You realise, of course, that you're using me as bait."

"You know I wouldn't even ask you if I didn't think your presence would benefit the investigation," I said quietly, bracing myself, certain that she would refuse and eject me from the boarding house, probably refusing to see me again. The possibility carried with it a certain amount of dread.

"You also realise," she continued in the same tone but with a ghost of a smile now teasing the corners of her mouth, "that anyone who tries to touch me without my leave is likely to get a broken arm."

"Is that acceptance or refusal?"

"Well, do you feel up to the role?"

I considered the question. "I've masqueraded as more complicated things than a married man."

"All right, then. How long will I have to get ready?"

"A few days, maybe. I need to inform Lestrade that I've accepted the case, and I'll send you a note in the morning to let you know when I'll be collecting you."

"Perfect," she beamed, "I'll be ready. Isn't this going to be exciting?"

I was simultaneously relieved and concerned at her agreement.

I soon found out how wrong I was on one point - there is no role more complex than faux marriage, especially in a setting like the bridal suite of an inn.

Emily Cartwright:

You'd think I was the last hope for Western civilisation, as nervous as he was asking for my help. Of course, he was well-contained as always, but he seemed strangely on edge during our conversation. I don't think I'll ever quite understand him.

After he'd left (bowing to me like I were royalty - always so formal!), I heard Mrs Croft stop knitting and she sat up straight, throwing me a questioning glance.

"A new beau?" she probed, "I haven't seen him around since you moved in."

"He's a good friend of mine," I replied. Mrs Croft tended to be a bit of a gossip, and I wanted to dissuade her as best I could with vagueness.

"What did he want, then? Just to chat? You two seemed to be doing quite a bit of whispering, if you ask me."

I sighed. "He prides himself on his confidentiality - and I respect that."

"Well, you know that I'm always concerned for the safety of my boarders, single ladies, all of them - I just like to know who's coming and going. Now don't misunderstand me - he looked a lot nicer than that street rat this afternoon-"

"Mrs Croft, my friend also prefers his privacy - so if you wouldn't mind."

"Oh, at least tell me the man's name, that much wouldn't hurt."

I decided that the time for tact was concluded. A strategic change of subject was in order, since anything I told her about Holmes would be circulated all over the east side by the weekend, probably slightly edited to make it circulate faster. I couldn't put him through that. "Mrs Croft, do you know what some of the women in the market have been saying?"

She pounced on the prospective lead. "What?"

"They say that your husband died of a shovel to the face rather than a bad heart. According to them, you found him in a ungentlemanly state after his visit to an opium den and got rid of him yourself - you know, I would give them a good talking-to, if I were you, spreading malicious gossip like that."

The colour she turned (a rather huffy shade of pink) and the expression that crossed her face (rather like a stunned trout) foreshadowed several rather noisy confrontations in the market tomorrow, which would certainly prove interesting, especially since I didn't actually know of any such rumour circulating at the time. It also indicated that the entire subject of Holmes had, in a single instant, been completely forgotten.

Creative misdirection is a wonderful talent to hone.

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dreamingsushi · 1 year

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Mystic Pop-up Bar - Episode 2

I should probably getting ready for work, I know too well, but these days I've been dragging my feet to work. My job doesn't bring as much pleasure as it used to when I first started. Hopefully, things will get better. Anyways, I won't finish this episode in one sit, I'm fine with this, I'm just really curious about what's going to happen.

Weol-ju has Kanghae experience her powers in a dream, letting him going on a date with a cute girl. Then she brutally wakes him up and shows him the contract she wrote for the two of them. However, one of the clause stipulates that partaking in the dreams of other might enhance his ability, which he wants to actually get rid of. So he backs out of the deal, in fear of being stuck with much worse than what he has now. She won't give up that easily, so she goes to see him at work, bringing food to his coworkers saying that she wants to hire him. He takes her apart and says that his answer is still no. So she traps him by having a whole lot of old ladies pour their heart to him and he concedes victory to her and agrees to the contract.

Kangbae's landlord and her daughter come to the street bar to have some mackerel. Weol-ju wants Kanghae to touch the lady, once her daughter's gone so they would know of her troubles. Turns out that she's not the real mom of her daughter. Her jealousy caused the death of her real mother. Weol-ju kicks her out, because it reminds her of how people were gossiping about her and how her mom died unfairly. She refuses to help a murderer, no matter what Kangbae says.

To help his landlady, Kangbae decides to steal the magical alcohol and do it himself. However, when he gets home, the lady collapsed and he takes her to the hospital. He gets scolded pretty bad for stealing the alcohol and they warn him not to use any of it. Unfortunately, as he put it in a water bottle, the lady's daughter drank some and he ends up in her dream. They see how good of a mother the lady was. It doesn't really change Weol-ju's mind about helping her, and Kangbae only convinces her by promising to sign fully the contract if she does help. So she agrees. But it's too late, because the lady died. She makes a bargain with Death to have her one day to fulfill her wish. So they find the father, but unfortunately, he forgot everything about his past wife. They don't really have time to drag him to Seoul, so it's not going to work... But lifesaver, Kangbae still has a little bit of the alcohol in the water bottle.

Thanks to that, they manage to unlock the dad's memories and have him meet with his daughter, fulfilling miss Andong's wish. She can then leave without any regrets. Also she has been forgotten by Suhwa and can rest in peace.

While they throw a welcome party for Kangbae as a new official employee, we learn that Weol-ju has been punished to save 100 000 humans from their grudges because by hanging herself at the Sacred Tree, she brought bad luck to the Tree which was protecting the country. It has been invaded and 100 000 people died. At first she refused the punishment, but then the lady showed her a scroll, which changed her appearance and made her accept to undergo that punishment. Unfortunately, they didn't translate into subs any part of the scroll, I recognize the Chinese characters meaning life after life, but that's it. Is it related to the prince she liked? We'll probably discover that sooner or later.

And that will be all for episode two. So far, this is a really great show. It shows very well human nature to me, while it talks about stuff that are sometimes hard to approach. It's only the beginning, but we can already see some character growth, hence I'm really looking forward what is to happen to each of them.

#mystic pop-up bar #hwang jung eum #yook sung jae #choi won young #kdrama #k-drama #korean drama #drama review #drama recap #drama reaction

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squishy-lemons · 2 years

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Roommates

A/N: First story!! I'm gonna change around and play with the format a bit but I'd like to get this out. I wrote this a while ago but I edited it a bit and I want to try and do something with it so here goes!!

‘Nathaniel!’

This feels like the millionth time I’m telling him not to fill the bath tub up and splash about in it. Nathaniel assures me that it’s only the one hundred and twenty eighth time since I moved in.

It isn’t really helping matter what with the landlady on her way here too. She isn't a neat freak but she does like not having her house trashed by a ghost. Nathaniel is a ghost. And he is currently making my life harder than it needs to be.

So, here I am, in a last-ditch effort to make this shack look as tidy as it possibly could within its state. Nathaniel is not helping, what with his recreation of the sinking of the Titanic.

I hurry off to mop away the water, cursing loudly as the handle hits something, Nathaniel cackling at the profanities he’s taught me.

“Damian, please, you love it. And me. And this is probably the last time I’ll be able to do it, let me have some fun.”

I frowned. 'I don't love it. And don't...say that. Don't bring it up. You're here for another month and if we really try we can visit each other. I'm going to keep researching-'

He smiled at me, wistful, nearly. “We've been over this. You know just as well as I do that it's practically impossible. You have been paying attention to when we researched, right?”

I furiously mopped up more water. We had had this talk before. For all his shenanigans and hijinks, Nathaniel was dead set on getting back to the spirit realm. He was sure of it. It seemed the only thing he was sure of. There was nearly no scope of contacting him ever once he got back to where he was supposed to be. I wished we’d had more time together. I thought we were getting on pretty well. Or as well as you can when you are a human that moves into a haunted studio apartment.

I first found Nathaniel about two years ago, when I had just moved in. Something about the apartment seemed off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it had definitely been odd. But a broke college second year can’t be a chooser, especially when you’re a literature major. The point is, it was the only house within my budget and it came with a free ghost that soon became my best friend.

Go retail.

Anyway, once we’d gotten nice and acquainted and had a late night heart-to-heart talk that we never spoke of again (me maybe having consumed too many glasses of cheap fine wine), we made a pact. I would help Nathaniel get back to his world, the ghost world, and he would leave me alone to study. Over the course of two years, we had bonded with each other and now, him not being there makes everything seem so much more dismal.

We pored over huge spell-books that Nathaniel had collected over three decades and looked for the things he could not touch for the spells to work. Moonstone, bloodroot, newt’s eye. He wasn’t allowed to touch any of them, which is why the spell failed when he tried in the past. We only get a limited number of times we can use the book in various ways, seven being the maximum for this one. Nathaniel’s already tried to go back to the spirit realm six times before he figured out where he went wrong. That means we can’t mess this last chance up.

I can’t say much that’ll change his mind, not when he’s pig-headed as he is. And the landlady visiting now, shadows matters a little. She’s a nice enough woman but anyone’d freak out knowing they have a ghost in one of their apartments so Nathaniel and I have kept it very hush-hush.

I’m barely finished mopping when-

“ding-dong!”

That’s the door bell. Nathaniel grabs the broom and dashes to the cupboard where he’s to stay for the rest of the inspection. I dry off my feet as quick as possible and make for the door, not wanting to keep Mrs Kimberly waiting.

Mentally preparing for the inspection, I open the door with a dazzling grin, expecting to see a tart smile and a neat bun. Instead, I observe a sour, puckered mouth, pulled into what looked like a sneer and thin eyes seated blow a bulbous, shiny forehead.

The mouth pulled upward into a tight smile. “Mr Farrow! Hello, and the best of evenings to you. I shall be conducting the apartment inspection today.”

His voice was what I would imagine Dr Jekyll’s from ‘Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde” to be. Somewhat deep and scratchy, but pleasant, nevertheless.

“Please, Damian is just fine. And I don’t believe we’ve met before, Mr…?”

I trail off, hinting for him to pick up.

“Hm? Oh, Aurel is just fine, my dear boy. I’m Mrs Kimberly’s husband, wonderful to make your acquaintance. Now, let’s go about the inspection, no to dawdle, not to dawdle!”

He seemed pretty enthusiastic about the inspection. I did not share this enthusiasm.

The first half-hour, everything went smoothly, apart from Aurel calling me ‘my dear boy’ from time to time. Nathaniel kept quiet, there weren’t any minor explosions from the mini-firecrackers he’d set up as pranks and overall, it seemed as though we’d survive another inspection. The weird thing was, the smoother the inspection went, the more antsy Aurel seemed to get. His eyes would flit about, he’d lick his lips often and his hands didn’t seem content at his sides, flying about and wringing each other every now and then.

“Tea, Aurel? And biscuits, perhaps?”

“Oh no, thank you, Damian,” he replies, with a small twitch of his lips, and shake of his head. His eyes however, darted about, like a wild deer’s. No, that doesn’t sound right. It felt more like a predator trying to gauge his prey’s movements, albeit, a very nervous predator.

He makes his way back to the kitchen after a thorough observation of the bathroom. Even fidgetier.

Suddenly, he turns to me, gripping me by the shoulders. “My dear fellow, may I ask of you but one favour?”

Me, being too startled to say anything else merely nodded.

“Please, please, I beg of you, help me cross over…there. Your poltergeist in the closet knows how to get there and you do too, please, please, I need to see my family, it’s been years please!”

He shook me, hard. My eyes popped. My heart was a little vibrating drum that didn’t know what to do.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking abou-”

“DON’T PLAY WITH ME, BOY! YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW!”

He collapses into a nearby chair, panting and breathing heavily. He looked up at me with the most apologetic eyes I’ve seen.

“I’ve traced the book, I’ve been doing it for a decade. It’s always been so elusive, so hard to find…it’s here isn’t it?”

“I-”

“Call your ghost. He’ll understand.”

"I don't believe I understand-"

"I think you'll find you do. Now, please. Call the ghost."

With no better option and preferring company to solace in this situation, I shout for Nathaniel. No reply. I shout again. He comes barreling out with a bucket on his head, wielding a broom like a spear.

“NO! You can’t have it! This is my only chance! I need it! I need that book!”

“I-will someone please explain to me what is going on?” I asked.

Nathaniel scowled. “This old man thinks he can just take away whatever we worked toward just like that. Well, no! I’m putting my foot down. This demon can just go find another book!”

The old man’s eyes hardened. “I want to see my family. If I need to the wretched book from you by force, then so be it.”

He stands up, face slowly transforming into something horrible and sinister.

“I ask of you again. Where is the book?”

I back up into Nathaniel. He looks me dead in the eye and I can see him telling me to run, just not verbally. He looks back up at Aurel. “You’re not getting it. I know what you want it for and it isn’t to get back home. You want to expand it. Expand it till it eventually consumes the normal world. You can't get back to the spirit realm either!" he accused. "I know you, Aurel, you killed me. I don’t know why but now you’re regretting it.”

Aurel growls and says nothing. Instead, he leaps at Nathaniel, hands that are now claws, outstretched, and teeth that are now fangs, bared. I run away, but not toward the front door like Nathaniel wanted me to. He makes that clear by a loud “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” cast in my direction. I yell back, “KEEP HIM BUSY!”

Nathaniel obliges with a few grunts of pain.

I make my way into my small bedroom, throwing myself at the safe where we keep the books, and really really hoping that we aren't kicked out because of a noise complaint from the neighbors. There was a banishing spell. I remember because I once jokingly threatened to try and banish Nathaniel when he caused yet another kerfuffle about a year ago.

Banishing isn't the same as Shifting. When you're Banished, you spend the rest of your existence, practically writhing in pain. Banishing is only for the really horrible, irredeemable souls. And I'm about the Banish the ever living shit our of the demon that's trying to kill my roommate.

Unlocking the safe as fast as I can, I throw open the heavy book, scanning the index for the Banishing spell. There! It’s right there! I skip to the page, not caring if I tear a few others in my haste.

I find the right page and yank the book and a few other necessary items, the bloodroot and crushed white pearl dust, back into the main room again. Thank god the Banishing spell is so similar to the Shifting one.

My papers are now everywhere. Ink has been knocked off the table and there are blots on a few printed pages of ideas. None of that matters right now. What matters is that Nathaniel is lying on the floor, half dead and bleeding the silvery ichor that ghosts bleed. What matters is that Aurel is seated on his chest about to rip his throat out. What matters is that my best friend is about to lose his life. Again.

That’s what jolts me into action. I recite the Latin poems as best and as I can (and I flatter myself that my Latin is quite good), which paralyses Aurel, as I draw a shaky circle around Nathaniel and Aurel with the white pearl dust. Aurel can’t move, only glare and scream at me, hatefully as decades of his planning are laid waste to by a human. The thought makes me almost grin. I break the bloodroot in half and that’s when it starts. Aurel’s screaming. It’s so loud, so shrill, it hurts my ears. But it’s over as soon as it starts and the circle begins to glow. I throw my arms under Nathaniel’s body and try my best to drag him out of there. The light hurts so badly. It feels like feels like I’ve been seared by white-hot poles, but I need to get Nathaniel away from that. Aurel has started to dissolve and the only thing I can do is wait it out and try and make sure Nathaniel isn’t sucked into that spirit whirlpool.

It only takes a few minutes but it feels like eternity until Aurel is completely gone. By the time he is, Nathaniel has just come to and leans against me for support.

It’s all quiet for a moment. Until Nathaniel croaks out a weak “Thank you.”

I grin. “You’re welcome.”

He glares at me. “You were supposed to ask ‘For what?’ and then I’d say something cheesy and corny and we’d act like heroes. You just ruined it.”

I laugh. The day has been so absurd. The neat-just-about-thirty-seconds-ago house was a complete catastrophe again. We’d start over with the cleaning and ask Mrs Kimberly to visit us next weekend. Maybe we’d even come clean about the ghost. Nathaniel tells me that no, we will not come clean about the ghost. All right then, I rescind my statement. We will not come clean about the ghost.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, when we’re trying to put the sofa right side up again, I ask.

"What was all that about Aurel trying to kill you? And you said that he killed you before? You have a bit of explaining to do."

My roommate groans. "Not a topic I will be discussing unless I get to use the bed and you get the hot cocoa and we get to watch Princess Diaries."

"Fine but we share the bed, I make the cocoa and we watch Mean Girls."

"Deal."

A few more moments of silence, interspersed with the near imperceptible 'chink' of the broken china I'm currently sweeping off the floor.

Nathaniel speaks up.

“You know, I don’t think I want to do his anymore.”

“What, clean up?”

“No-well, yes, but that’s not what I meant. I meant I don’t think I want to go back to the spirit world. I can’t anyway, and honestly, I don’t think anything it has to offer could be better than staying with a dork who lets me sleep in the closet.”

“I don’t know whether to address the fact you like staying with me or the fact that you just called me a dork.”

“The first bit.”

“In that case, you’re welcome to stay. In fact, I want you to, I’ve been telling you all along, you’re allowed to stay here because I like your company.”

Nathaniel looks at me.

“I thought you were lying to make me feel better.”

I laugh. “No, I actually, genuinely enjoy having you around.”

He smiles. “And I actually, genuinely enjoy being around you, dork.”

#via chickenscratches #Roommates part 1 #Roommates

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detective-luca-montoya · 2 years

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Another part? Maybe! Malik belongs to @lumpsbumpsandwhumps!

---

Luca throws the case file on the table. "No."

Koya rolls his eyes. "You're declining already? You haven't even read the case information."

"I don't have to," she retorts. "I saw the location and that's enough. That's the same town that nutjob works at."

Jacob pops his waffle in the toaster oven. "Thought you weren't worried about that guy."

"I'm not, but that doesn't mean I wanna just walk into his turf to track down a murder suspect. Hell, he's probably guilty of 'em!"

"All the more reason for you to go," the INTERPOL member points out. Luca grits her teeth, as he continues, "This is a high-priority case, Montoya. If we don't get this man now, we won't get another chance."

"Why don't *you* go?"

"I'm a cop. If I go and start asking questions, they'll undoubtedly go underground. You're much less... threatening. Besides, they've largely been going after young women. You fit the demographic far better than I do."

Luca rolls her eyes. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Jacob stuffs the entire waffle in his mouth. "'Sides, you might not even thee 'im." Koya nods in agreement. "I doubt he'll go after you twice within such a short time period. Especially if you're there on official business; it would make him the first suspect if something happened to you."

Luca sighs in defeat. "I'll go check it out. But if he tries anything, there's gonna be another murder."

---

A few days later, Luca, weighed down by several bags of luggage, steps inside the local inn of a now-familiar rural town. The landlady looks at her suspiciously and she waves. "Um, I'm Luca Montoya? I'm supposed to check out a body?"

"Oh, you must be the detective!" The landlady claps and rushes from behind her desk to greet Luca. "Yes, it's old Marvin, God bless his soul- they've got the body down at the mortician. A horrid sight, let me tell you! Absolutely grisly! Why when I saw it I-"

Luca cuts her off. "Where'd you say the mortician was?"

"Oh of course dear! It's right down the street take two lefts and you can't miss it! Oh, don't worry about your bags, I'll take good care of them for you!" Before Luca can protest the woman had snatched her bags and was ushering her out the door. "The director there is such a lovely boy, and quite handsome! I'm sure he'll help you with whatever you need! Have fun dear!"

The door slams shut, leaving Luca standing, bewildered, on the doorstep. She stares for a moment, before turning around. "Might as well get started..."

---

She finds the funeral home easily thanks to the directions, and feels a pang of anxiety about walking back into the place she'd been tortured in a few weeks ago. Shoving that aside, she sees a small group of people standing in front of the building, talking amongst themselves. As she approaches they all turn to stare at her, before their conversation changes to hushed whispers and furtive glances in her direction. She clears her throat. "Hi..."

They ignore her. She clears her throat louder. "I'm here about a murder?"

Another voice rings out from the doorway. "Welll I'll be! Its Luca Montoya! What's a pretty thing like you fixin' to do down here in the sticks?"

Luca nearly does a double-take at the man stepping down to meet her- dark hair, a crisp suit, a beauty mark beside his eye, holding out his hand to shake as his eyes glint with mirth.

Malik.

Son of a bitch.

#my writing #my ocs #luca and malik #drabble #not whump #case file maj

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becquerel · 2 years

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i have a genuine question about your comments on copyright laws and the assertion that it is bordering on punitive justice. i am not an expert on copyright laws and the only legal jurisdictions i am acquianted with are the UK and a SE Asian one, so i am ignorant of how copyright laws operate in the US. you've also said that landlady doesn't have to "get the authorities involved" in relation to the drawing issue. do copyright laws in the US carry a criminal punishment or is it purely a civil law matter?

"get the authorities involved" is a bit of colloquial slang where i'm from and can mean anything from getting police involved to just talking to lawyers/judges. probably not my best wording i won't lie. copyright lawsuits are often expensive and rely on having a lot of money! i don't think either person in this scenario has the money for it? not to be harsh, its just a bit... ehh. im not a bar certified lawyer, there's not much i can say here.

when i say punitive justice, it's not in a legal sense. i am moreso referring to the idea of trying to "punish" someone for doing something people have decided as a misdeed. like trying to make people face harsh consequences and whatever. i think trying to make this guy face losing his job and legal fines is like... a bit vengeful? idk! i think giving him the benefit of the doubt wouldve been nicer. going straight to "we need to make sure this guy hurts the way we are hurt" doesn't seem very helpful in the long run to me. nor is bringing in the legal system! couldve started this whole ordeal with "who is this guy, and why is he doing this? how much money is he making? how is he making these paintings?" etc instead of straight into "landlady should DEFINITELY sue." also just the idea and implications morality and what is right/wrong needs to be predicated on whats defined by the law doesn't really sit right with me... ah. who knows. less about this guy in particular and more about just in general. i think people should be kinder. such is the zeitgeist of 2020s tumblr. c'est la view or whatwver

edit:

oops. did not see this. yeah haha. im not a lawyer atm anyway so i couldnt help much :V

#grask

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leviathans-watching · 3 years

Text

contact: yuuji | 18 - the party pt I

SYNOPSIS: during your second year of uni you have the misfortune of sharing a class with terushima, a loud and irritating party boy. he’s mouthy, fake, and full of himself, everything your mysterious texting buddy isn’t. but as time goes on and terushima begins expressing new sides to himself never before seen, you wonder if everything is as it seems.

masterlist | previous | next | wc: 1k

“are we all set up?” you ask, surveying the living room. everything seems to be in place, but you never know.

“i think so,” bo calls from the kitchen, sticking his head out so can see you. “everything looks good in here.”

“here as well,” kuroo says from the bathroom, flicking off the lights as he exits it. “really, i think we’re good.”

“awesome!” you reply, looking around. everything valuable has been taken care of, your neighbors have been bribed with ‘i’m sorry’ cookies in case it gets too loud, and food and drinks are all displayed. the party’s going to be a lot of fun, but man, is it a lot of work to pull together. “i’m going to change then lock up my room.”

“i’ll do the same in a second,” bokuto says, and you walk into your room. people should start arriving soon, but you weren’t in a huge hurry or anything. pulling on the outfit you had decided upon the night before, you make sure your hair and everything looks good, before taking one last look around your room to make sure you’ve got everything you need from it.

deciding you do, you exit, checking the handle to make sure it’s locked. it is, so you head back on out to the living room. kuroo’s by the speakers, scrolling through his phone, so you assume he’s picking out a party playlist. he’s got pretty good taste in music, so you leave him be. walking to the kitchen, you pull a soda from the fridge. you and bo decided you’d be staying sober, if only because you needed to be on top of it to make sure nothing got out of hand. not that you were too worried about that, as everyone you knew that was coming was pretty chill, but you never knew.

you heard the door to your apartment opening and your heart rate spiked. was it terushima? pausing, you shook yourself. why would you care if it was him? nerves, probably, he was a wild card, the most likely to get out of control. yes, that was definitely it.

hinata’s loud voice filled the room, and a moment later, music started playing, not too loud. so probably not terushima, then. greeting hinata, you welcomed him with a hug. he had come with atsumu, and tanaka, and you knew it wouldn't be too long before the party really started going.

your apartment continued to steadily fill with familiar faces, and soon enough, like you had thought, it was a true party. you hadn’t seen terushima yet, but a lot of his friends were there, like oikawa and iwaizumi, and yahaba and futakuchi. scanning the room once mote, you jump when you feel someone behind you.

“sorry, sorry,” terushima says, taking a step back. “i didn’t mean to startle you.” he has to raise his voice a little to be hear over al of the music and other talking but you can understand him just fine.

“no worries,” you laugh, looking him over. like you, he’s nursing a can of pop, and is dressed pretty well. “enjoying yourself?”

“for sure,” he replies, and there’s a beat of silence. things are still a bit stilted between the two of you, but you think it’s getting better. “nice place you got here,” he eventually says, and you smile.

“thanks. bo invited me to move in with him over the summer and you know, since i’m a poor college student and all, i accepted since rent would be cheap.”

terushima nods. “you really lucked out with his place. it’s close to campus and everything.”

“well, we had a bit of an advantage since bokuto knows the landlady,” you admit. “she’s took a fitness class he assisted taught in in highschool or something.”

“that’s pretty cool,” he says, and you nod. again, silence. you can’t help but scan the crowd again, this time looking for yuuji. he said he might show, so you were looking for someone you didn’t know, or even only sort of knew, but no one fit the bill.

“looking for someone?” terushima asks, and you flush a little, not knowing you were that obvious.

“ah, yes. a friend of mine said he might show, but i haven’t seen him yet,” you explain, and terishima’s brows raise.

“a friend, huh?”

“well, we don’t know each other super well, but i really like him,” you say, unsure of what terushima’s reaction will be.

what you hadn’t expected was for him to lean back, crossing his arms. “can i tell you a story?” he asks, and you agree, confused.

“sure,” you say slowly. “is it a good one.”

“i mean, i think it is,” he says, so you motion for him to go ahead. “well,” he begins, “i was at a party my first year of college, and i got a bit drunker than was probably advisable. there was this group of people, playing truth or dare, and they asked me to join.” he pauses, seeming to gather himself. “i said yes, of course, as it seemed like a lot of fun, and soon enough, it was my turn. not one to be boring, i said dare. i was dared to dumb my drink on the cutest person in the room.” he stares at you, steady, waiting for your reaction.

a gasp escapes your lips and you cover your mouth with your hand.

“so i started looking,” he eventually continues, “and i saw someone who took my breath away. spurred on by the alcohol and catcalls of my new friends, i approached and completed the dare. and this person, oh they looked pissed. i thought maybe i’d be able to find them later and apologize, but it seemed like they went out of their way to avoid me. which fair, but it also sucked, because this person only grew more and more attractive at time went on but i couldn’t talk to them at all. but then, i got a text from them, trying to reach someone else with the wrong number.”

a/n: how'd you like that cliffhanger LMAO

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