#tw: hint of verbal abuse
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panics-side-blog · 2 years ago
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New Cycle - Chapter 5 - 3AMstoryIdeas - Transformers - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
I seem to always forget to upload the link.
Also as a side note this chapter isn't as much of a wall text like the last one. I also edited the last one to be more easy on the eye. Plus first chapter is rewriten, it has now an addition of 1k words in it.
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azulsluver · 3 months ago
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Ur bully au is so good I could slurp it up but it got me wondering
How would all the students react to the reader just. trying to kill themselves because of the endless torment? would they keep harassing? would they say something about it? or would they tone it down? I must know because If I was in that situation i know damn well unaliving myself would be the first option
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There’s more than one asking but ima just get this over with
tw. yandere, attempted suicide, suicide, cutting, bully!characters, mentioned torture, humiliation, blood, slight gore, neglection, fucked up reader (deadass).
Here are some thoughts and reactions bellow!
When asking, what role does this character do in this so called ‘bully!au’? You have to look at a deeper perspective of how each person behaves, what the intention is, and how it’s done.
So when the subject of suicide is involved it can get confusing depending on what caused it. Self worth is hinted in the reader, insecurities are brought and laughed at because it needs to hit a spot. Because YOU have feelings, watching it be stripped by people in far greater power than you, people with money, influence, and within number. Standing up to a bully is difficult, the struggles you go through should’ve been realistic.
When push comes to shove, they’re not all coming for you. If you enjoy the idea of every character ruining your life— that’s fine— but, it’s usually one or three. I think it’s childish, when I first made this AU, some sort of amusement in finding hurt but comfort when writing, they’re not trying to kill you, you know. You just catch their eye, more than they could like. Rejection is one thing, but another is a fair game of a sadistic approach. Whether they verbally or physically abuse you is up to place bets on what kills you.
For NRC years, yes, they constantly nagged and followed you around. But the times they would actively seek you out would be less than you think, the focus on bullying would be isolation. They don’t have to hurt you everyday. Some time for yourself to heal and think over your situation. What would you eat? Would they play nice and ignore you for tonight? Did your look piss off someone from afar? Let them cheat off you! Don’t be such a bore, it’ll all go back to just you and Grim.
If you picked up self harming, it’s noticeable. Hiding it is nearly impossible. They grab and bite at you already so what makes you think hiding was a good idea? It’s nasty and unplanned, miss them? Miss their touch that you havta recreate it? It’s horrible to mention, but caring really depends on who calls you out.
I can say you like it. Or you fucking hate it. You hate, hateee, how they treat you. You crawl on all fours for them to laugh and pat your head, do a dare and lick off from their hand but money is involved.
What did you do, was it simple, messy, perfect headshot if you will. If your need to die was to simply hurt them in any way— it might work. Poor them, they can’t imagine being away from you for too long. Some are more uninterested than the others. Who gives a shit you died? Whoever had the luck of finding you, dead or in the act, serves a purpose of letting you live or die. Cruel as they may be, you tug at a couple of heart strings.
Let’s say it was an attempt:
Sprang into action, either holding you down or taking whatever object you’re using to harm yourself. They’re gonna make sure this doesn’t happen again, you gave them quite the spook. Have fun being watched 24/7, and if they couldn’t, everything will be baby proofed for your safety, isn’t that nice, they care. Thrash all you want, screaming and crying won’t get you anywhere, but they’ll bite their tongue once and a while to prevent this from happening.
Trey, Riddle, Azul, Vil, Jack, Deuce, Sebek,
Oohh…he’s so sorry. Please forgive him, crying on his knees and rubbing his head against your chest. It doesn’t matter if the blood stains his clothes, you nearly died and he feels awful. He promises so many times for harm to look the other way, twisted, yet unavoidable. Trapped in a tight, monitored schedule were his scent and voice is all you’ll ever need. But at least there’s a change of heart, your health is improving and that’s all that matters to him, but speak to him, he wants to hear you.
Silver, Malleus, Kalim
Should he have stopped you, but what good will it do for him? Frozen in the moment, their bodies do the thinking, rational, to prevent you from escaping them. You’re funny, reaaal funny, got good jokes at time. But, he’s not really laughing. A little, but it’s hysterically funny and scary. Because he’s still so rough, even when he apologizes yet calls you stupid, his fingers hurt you more than whatever you had planned, gripping, as if you really died.
Jamil, Ace, Cater, Ruggie, Leona, Idia, Floyd, Epel
Does it hurt? Did you find your ulna? Was the rope too tight? It feels like he’s only here to see the end credits, the finale. The sick fuck is smiling too, gross. Giving up just leaves you with him by your side, pressing it deeper to help you get the job done…just kidding! That was quite a show you put on, this is why he likes you. Being responsible of another’s cause of death isn’t ideal, so he’ll try to watch you as of now.
Lilia, Rook, Jade
From that list alone you can guess who’s to mourn, and who savors what is left. Death is inevitable. Everyone dies one way.
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Hi thank u for opening asks! Can I request headcanons for the male companions (and or gortash Raphael and the emperor) having a mute s/o either because they can’t talk or they’re very shy
A/N: Here ya go! Managed to get everyone to stay mostly in character. Please be warned there are hints of nsfw for each character, although nothing graphic in nature. And that the entries for Gortash and Raphael describe abusive relationships, so heed the trigger warnings below. 
🔇 Mute!Reader HC x BG3 Males: 🔇
TW: Domestic Abuse & Vaguely NSFW Content
(Abuse and Manipulation for the Gortash & Raphael ones. Also allusions to sex throughout each entry.)
Astarion: 
He’s suspicious of you at first. Even more so that you don’t talk. But if you prove you’re  not a threat in other ways, he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. He talks to you about the same. A good amount of what he says is either posturing or complaining- and that doesn't change just because you can’t talk back. If anything, he complains even more, knowing you wont tell him to shove off like the others. He greatly enjoys how dramatic he gets to be around you. He’ll lean against a city wall and dramatically lay the back of his hand over his face: ‘I tell you Darling, it’s like these people don’t notice me at all!’ You blink at his outburst, your expression unchanged, clearly unamused. 
Still says lots of witty comments under his breath, and subtly looks over at you to see if you’ve smirked or blushed in response. Gets really good at reading all the little reactions you make. He makes a mental catalog of every half smirk, every eye twitch, every shoulder shrug, so that he knows how you feel about something he or another has said.
Appreciates the fact that you’re unlikely to repeat anything he says to you, which makes him feel all the safer confiding in you about his condition and his past, knowing you can’t go sounding the alarm. 
Ends up going on tangents or rants about the others while you just sit there and kind of grimace, empathetically. He knows it can get annoying to just have to listen, but he’s extremely grateful for the outlet. Cazador certainly never cared what he was feeling. Nor did any of his ‘siblings’. But with you, he can bitch about his day only to turn around and find you still there, listening intently. 
Becomes a lot touchier. Like a lot. He switches from checking to verbal confirmation to physical confirmation. Takes your hand, or pulls you close, squeezes your shoulder- those sorts of things. 
Personally takes it as a challenge to see how loud he can get you to be when you’re intimate together ;) 
Gale: 
Doesn’t notice immediately lol. He’s too busy being overjoyed at the fact you don’t interrupt his long winded, pun-filled speeches to even consider it’s due to a disability or something similar on your part. He just thinks you’re the most wonderful listener. And of course, this makes him fall head over heels for you lol.
Once he does get it, he just sort of goes, ‘Oh.’ And lets that sit in the air. (He’s a bit awkward around you for a while, unsure of how to apologize, so you’d probably need to approach him and make your forgiveness known.) 
Once that misunderstanding is over, he immediately becomes occupied with finding spells to help you talk. If that’s something you want, you appreciate the effort, and let him know you’re in no rush. If that’s something you’re not interested in, you tell him as much. He’s a little disappointed and taken off guard. He explains he’s always used magic to solve his problems. You raise your brow and give him a look that says ‘And that’s been working well for you, has it?’ He relents after that. 
The two of you get really good at reading each other’s faces. And Gale takes it upon himself to talk less as well, even though you explain he doesn’t have to. He insists, saying he wants to understand what your life is like. He lasts like two days lol. 
Becomes mostly competent at understanding what you’re saying either via sign or body language, but occasionally Tera has to translate for you. Thank the gods for tressyms.
Wyll: 
Is momentarily taken aback, embarrassed by his concern he was being rude to you before, assuming you could talk to him but were choosing not to. Apologizes, profusely, for the misunderstanding on his part. 
Learns to communicate with you through other means, be it writing, or by whatever the Faerun equivalent of sign language is. He’s not the best at it, but he tries really hard to learn. Picks up basic phrases like greetings, and moods. Does request that you slow down if you’re fluent, to give his brain time to catch up. 
Doesn’t let anyone in the group make petty or passive aggressive comments while giving them a look or chewing them out. He’s very serious about it. The next time Astarion says something off the cuff, Wyll responds with, ‘Well, Astarion, I’d assume you of all people would be used to it being quiet. Having only the other rats of Baldurs Gate as friends for years.’ He’ll go for the jugular- he doesn't give af! No one gets to make you feel bad about it.
Considers going to Shadowheart or Halsin, or even Gale and asking them if there’s something they can do to help you/your condition, but that’s only with your blessing of course. He wants to help you, but doesn’t want to overstep. 
Comes to appreciate how honest you are in your other reactions- your eyes and your body language. Wyll is used to being deceived- by demons, humans, and the like- so he thinks it’s so special he can read you like a book. Whether you’re strolling through Baldur’s Gate, or enjoying your marital bed, it matters greatly to him how you truly feel and think. He’s glad he’s able to share your truth with him. 
Halsin: 
Catches on fairly quickly, although he doesn’t bring it up to you directly. He figures you will bring it up when you are ready to discuss it, and in the meantime, he would not want to pry. Listens intently when you tell him by checking in with your facial expression as he reads your writing. 
Tries to find ways to help you with what you can do. Suggests maybe enchanting a feather pen and scroll or some chalk and a small board to write out what you’re thinking so others can understand how it is you feel in real time. He offers his druid magic to do whatever you need. Hell, he even considers mentoring you to see if you feel nature’s calling. If you were a druid, perhaps you could develop a relationship with an animal companion, say a bird, or an awakened rat, or a giant eagle and get them to speak for you. 
Similar to Wyll, Halsin will try to learn sign language if that’s something you speak. However he isn’t the most adept at it. He’s very used to spellcasting, which requires at least one free hand, often his dominant hand. So he tries learning sign with his nondominant hand, but that makes it all the more difficult. He knows the alphabet, but that’s about it. You will have to slowly spell out your sentences word by word in order for him to get the gist. 
Makes sure you’re either safely hidden away at camp, or stay within his sight during a battle. He knows you cannot cry out for help, so he wants to make sure he can keep an eye on you throughout any conflict. 
Loves just being close to you. Swears he can hear the intention of your heart when the two of you are so close. He wants to assure you, your difference doesn’t make him love you any less. If anything, he is impressed with how much you continue to adapt to and overcome. He’ll say, ‘You need not speak for me to know your voice, my heart. One look in your eyes, and I know, it is an internal melody so beautiful, all of nature could not compare.’ He’ll place soft touches to your skin and face, and check your reaction before progressing any further. He thinks being intimate with you is the best way to express your emotions as a couple. After all, sex is the most ancient language of all.
Minsc: 
He doesn’t get it until Boo points it out to him lol. And even after being told, he still forgets from time to time. 
Minsc loves to talk. Well brag. And boast. And speak in the third-person. So he’s not thrown off by you having to refer to yourself with body language or with possessive pronouns in Common writings. 
He will ask you lots of questions, all throughout the day. Some are obvious and others are seemingly random, and difficult to explain with your words limited to being written down as fast as you can before Minsc’s mind wanders and changes the subject. It’s a workout for your wrists honestly. 
He will loudly announce that you’re mute every time you meet new people. ‘This is (Y/N), my dear love, she cannot speak. So (Y/N) will write her answers for Boo. And Boo will tell me. Then Minsc may tell you.’ You keep trying to tell him, the system doesn’t need Boo and him to interpret for you, especially if you’re already recording your answers in Common for others to read. 
He will never let you apologize for not being able to speak. He refuses to see it as a problem. ‘Minsc speaks loud enough for both of us, no?’ He thinks you’re the most wonderful person around. He could have his pick of the crop, and yet he chose you. Trust him, you’re the person he wants to be with more than anything. 
Gortash:
Actually kind of prefers lovers who don’t talk back, lol. He’s a very insecure man when it comes to his character. He’s cunning and wise, but clawed his way out of hell (quite literally) and the self-critical voice in his head never silences. So he’s oddly comforted that you can’t demean his temperament. 
He won’t try to fix it, nor will he allow you to try and change it in any sort of way. He doesn’t want you to go babbling on about his plans or how he is behind closed doors. That information cannot be getting out. So no, you will not be allowed any magic or spells to help you communicate. 
He will open up to you on occasion in private. The longer you’re together, the more safe he feels like confiding in you. If you feign sympathy, or if you are in fact sympathetic to his backstory, he’ll feel something akin to love for you. It’s not quite love. It’s much more logical, more calculating and pragmatic than that. But it’s about as close as you’d get with him. 
Likes how you have little to no choice other than to stay at his side and listen to him intently. He loves watching all your little apprehensive reactions when beckons you closer and pulls you into his lap. How your pulse races, how your breath quickens, he knows how his proximity makes you feel, even if you can’t open your mouth to speak the words. Besides, he’s very sure your mouth will be good for, let’s just say, other things. 
He will allow you to write him little notes here and there, but only in his office, and only when no one else is around. He’s rather paranoid that way. But he’s also rather pleased how it means you must keep seeking him out during his working hours. He’s under no false impression that he's the kindest lover. But you can’t leave him. You need him. He’s the only one who’s allowed to understand you. And he intends to keep it that way. 
Raphael: 
Like Gortash, Raphael feels a sort of sick satisfaction over the fact you can’t talk back to him. But then on the other hand, he feels a sort of sick disappointment that he can’t torture you into making all those sweet pathetic noises for him. So it’s 50/50 with him. 
He will consider giving you a voice via deviant magic if it means he can hear you beg. It drives him absolutely wild, and he refuses to go completely without it. Takes said voice away if you venture too far into brat territory, or you directly insult him. It’s a privilege for you to even look upon him, how dare you use the gift he gave you against him?
Has Harleep babysit you when he isn’t there. You can’t exactly call for help, and Raphael’s house isn’t safe for you to be wandering about unsupervised. 
Enjoys the look of pure frustration on your face when you try learning to write in Infernal, only to fail miserably. He thinks you’re adorable all revved up. He will read the notes you write in Common, he just doesn’t always respond to them. Despite his refusal to acknowledge most of them, you can tell he understands them, based on how large that vein on his forehead gets lol.
He will let you choose whether or not to have a voice during certain moments of pleasure; well, mostly pleasure. He loves the little gasps and moans you make, it fuels his lust for you even more. Then again, he doesn’t need to hear the sweet cries of your pretty voice to know whether he’s on the right track. ‘I can sense your heartbeat, little mouse,’ he'll whisper to you. Your body reveals to Raphael all there is to know, whether you want it to or not. 
The Emperor: 
It literally doesn’t matter. Dude’s telepathic lol. 
Wishes you’d become an illithid so you’d be telepathic too. Almost doesn’t take no for an answer on that one. 
Ultimately ends up relishing in the fact he alone can understand you- your wants, your needs, your dreams, and hopes. It makes him feel all the more powerful. 
Will give you the play-by-play about the Nether Brain and the Chosen Three because he’s been dying to tell someone, and he knows you can’t go running in the streets telling everyone and ruining his hopes of manipulation. Mainly because you don’t talk but also because he’s not letting you leave his realm lol, no way in hell. 
If you really don’t feel at home here, ‘You could always,’ he’ll suggest coyly, ‘Become one of us.’ You don’t even have to shake your head to tell him ‘no’. Your facial expression does all the talking for that one. 
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animeyanderelover · 8 months ago
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As a second request, How would Muzan react to S/o who committed suicide, but later he finds out that she was reincarnated as a demon slayer, and she became a Hashira? Thanks!
@kanaosprotector @leveyani
Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, violence, controlling behavior, abduction, isolation, manipulation, death, blackmailing, mentions of suicide
Suicidal s/o gets reincarnated as a Hashira
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🩸He has been trying to downplay your suicide for centuries yet even after all of this time he has never been able to let go. Perhaps this is the curse of his eternal life as his feelings have never changed for you. Everything has been painted in bitterness, frustration, anger and somewhere deeply burried beneath it all an ache Muzan doesn’t want to acknowledge. You couldn’t live with him, couldn’t bear the possessiveness, the control and the verbal abuse you had to suffer whilst beneath him. Only a few memories of yours were once where he had treated you nicely with hints of affection but at the cost of your own will being broken beforehand. Out of fear to lose yourself and the fear of an eternal life as a demon subjected to his control, you took your own life and thus escaping to a place where Muzan was too afraid to follow you.
🩸His ego has never recovered from your death nor has it ever acknowledged the reason for your suicide as his own fault. All you would have needed to do would have been to obey him yet even such a simple task had been too much for you. You were such an ungrateful little thing. He carries on with his life as he searches for the Blue Spider Lily but your absence for forever has left a weight that he can’t ignore no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that your death hasn’t affected him as the nearly perfect being. Yet it irks him. It irks him that you thought of him so little that you would choose death over him. Death. The one thing he is afraid of. The one place he can’t catch you. You’re gone. Truly gone without even him being able to do anything and perhaps it is his own helplessness that anguishes him at times although his pride would never let that thought enter his head. So he makes you the scapegoat of all the boiling emotions that have been haunting him ever since your death.
🩸Those feelings, as confusing and persistent as they may be, eventually are passed down to the demons he creates with the help of his blood. His feelings of twisted love, of all the seething emotions he carries around because of you, slumber in all the demons he has created after your death. Not one of them is aware that they carry a piece of their master’s memories and feelings within their cells as the only possible trigger to unlock them has long been dead. Until he disposes of one of his Lower Moons after they have been forced to report to him that they had to flee from a mission Muzan had ordered them to do as a Hashira was sent there and nearly killed them if it wouldn’t have been for them sacrificing their minions and threatening the village close by. The Demon King is enraged by those news, red eyes quivering with wrath as he’s just about to dispose of the useless creature. In the face of their knowing death, the demon cries for mercy and comes up with every excuse possible. It’s in the face of their fear that they tell him about the weird memories they had whilst trying to survive from you.
🩸No one should know your name. No one should know what you look like. Yet this pathetic pawn of his knows sacred knowledge, hidden knowledge, that only Muzan should know of. It is the reveal of this piece of information that spares the pathetic Lower Moon temporarily from their death but their fear never dies down as Muzan never lets go of the intensity he radiates. Instead a weird glimmer appears in his eyes as their words force emotions to resurface that have barely let go of him for hundreds of years. Claws dig into their skull, forcing blood to spill out from the wounds as Muzan orders them to tell him everything. Cries reverberate through the Infinity Castle as the demon spills out everything, begging for mercy before their existence comes to a brutal stop as Muzan disposes of them as soon as their last usefulness has vanished.
🩸Feelings he has been barely able to suppress for centuries all break out of him as soon as he has processed those news. A restlessness all of a sudden overcomes him, one that doesn’t allow him to idly relax. He has to know. He needs to know if those words the disposed demon told him in between all their weak cries are the truth. He knows that his pawns would never lie to him yet it is still hard to fully grasp. The phenomenon they described of those fleeting memories they had when seeing you disturb him. Will all of his subordinates react in such a way if they were to face you? Would it prevent them from seriously fighting you if the Hashira is truly you? He knows that he is above the demons he creates yet his own blood that he has used to create each and every one of them seems to react to you. A weird feeling of dread fills him that he tries to reject. Is his own blood that prone to weakness because of you that it even affects those he transforms?
🩸He has always bathed in the glory of his own self-aggrandizement. He has no weaknesses. In a way your presence challenges him in two different ways. One of them involves his own emotions and how much you truly mean to him deep inside his hearts. The other one challenges his perception of death. He has always believed that after death everything is over. It should have been over for you on the day you took foolishly your own life. Yet apparently there is a spitting image of you walking around and fighting demons as a Hashira. Is it really possible? Reincarnations have always been a mystery that have never been scientifically been proven? If you have truly reincarnated, has your soul stayed the same? Do you have any memories of your previous life? So many questions yet so little answers. He needs to have you. He needs to see you for himself, needs to feel your skin and take in the look in your eyes. If you truly are reborn in this world once again, Muzan won’t make the same mistake he has done hundreds of years ago again.
🩸He sends an Upper Moon after you as soon as he has collected as much information on you as possible about your current location. His orders are strict and clear. You may be injured but you are not to be killed and will have to be brought to him. After that his only choice is to wait and the time he has to spend waiting has his whole body itching with impatience he hasn’t experienced before. Eventually, finally, you are brought to the Infinity Castle. Your sword has been broken, your bones have been broken and you are covered in blood yet the fire in your eyes hasn’t extinguished. As soon as Muzan sees your wounded state, he instantly lashes out on the Upper Moon who has brought you here. He may have told them himself that a few injuries are fine but the sight of the damage inflicted on you in person, even if not nearly enough to threaten your life, enrages him. Veins start appearing on his head as he beheads the Upper Moon in his petty outburst before he tells them irritated to leave as they regenerate.
🩸He can see how you are extremely cautious, your eyes observing his every move. This is after all the man who is the source of all evil. The Demon King himself. He can see the slight glimpse of fear in your eyes yet you’re not wavering in front of him, facing your frightened feelings. His own eyes are observing you just as sharply, roaming over your form to confirm his suspicions. You look exactly the same as he remembers, even the scent of your blood is the same. A look of defiance is on your face as he towers right above you, the look in his eyes as intense as ever. You prepare for the worst but the feeling of his hands cradling your face catches you off-guard as he leans his face down a tad bit, a conflicted frown suddenly appearing on his face. Do you remember him? Your bamboozled look when you hear his question speaks for itself.
🩸You find yourself stuck and imprisoned in the Infinity Castle from that day on, unable to find a way out of the maze of corridors and doors. The only person you see from that day on is Muzan who always seems to gauge your every reaction with such an obsessive curiosity that it catches you off guard. Even if your memories might not have returned, even if they shouldn’t return, Muzan won’t make the same mistake twice. He almost feels like destiny has returned someone that should have been with him all along those last few centuries. This time he won’t let you do anything stupid again. This time you will learn to appreciate the value of the affection he feels for you. This time you will learn to worship and appreciate him as your reason for living. He won’t allow you to escape from him ever again. He won’t let you escape to the realm he is most afraid of.
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thehighladywrites · 10 months ago
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— “ an unexpected twist ”
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⋆˙⟡ pairing: professor eris vanserra x reader, part 3
⋆˙⟡ summary: you spend every weekend at eris’s mansion, what happens this time? Who is Eris Vanserra and how come he is so rich on a professors salary? GASP A PLOT TWIST
⋆˙⟡ warnings: mentions of smut, tw talks of beron vanserra🤢, abusive childhood, eris dropping huge stacks of money on you, eris channeling his inner sugar daddy, you call him daddy for the first time ever, mentions of an unalive body.
⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m not going to lie the plot twist is either a banger or the messiest thing i’ve ever written (pls be a banger)
part 1, part 2
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In the gentle morning light, you lay there in his bed, your lover's bed, serenely unaware of him, enchanted by the sight of you.
Eris had been awake for hours, yet the idea of leaving the cocoon of your warmth never crossed his mind. He marveled at the sheer luck of having someone as incredible as you in his life.
Last night, he came to the realization that he had started to feel mushy and in love with you. The thought still rattled him, and he couldn't shake the slight wariness that you held the power to influence his feelings.
Feelings, thoughts, and open discussions were never entertained in the Vanserra household. Eris and his brothers had been raised by their abusive father, who subjected them to verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. Their father manipulated them into accepting and believing whatever suited his agenda.
Through the passing years, Eris had finely tuned his act as the heartbreakingly cold and scornful eldest son. The mask of cruelty clung to him so persistently that he found himself questioning if it was a facade or a painful reflection of his true self.
When his old man kicked the bucket, Eris felt like a ton of bricks was off his back – turns out, it was just an act. Now, with the nosy observer out of the picture, he went all out decorating his room, something he couldn't do growing up. At firat he felt stupid for being happy about being able to change his room because it was something so normalized but he realized how much it healed his inner child. No more walking on eggshells; he could finally kick back. Where did he celebrate his first taste of freedom? The same bar where he first bumped into you.
Grinning at the notion, Eris not only shed a heavy burden but also welcomed newfound brightness into his life. He was determined not to mess things up in any way.
Fully aware that his actions were objectively wrong, Eris couldn't muster the will to change course. He had succumbed to love, a fertile ground for obsession. While he concealed that side for now, he knew it would eventually surface.
The gentle stir in his arms brought Eris back to the present. A warm feeling enveloped his heart as he looked down at you, tenderly running his fingers through your hair, savoring the sweet moment.
Bending down, Eris pressed a gentle kiss on your head, catching the sweet aroma of the strawberry-scented shampoo you insisted he use. Amused by the fact that his hair had never been smoother, he looked at you with a smile.
“Good morning, sweetheart. Want to do something fun today?” he suggested.
Excited, you sat up straight, a huge grin on your face, eager for some fun. When you asked him what he had in mind, Eris leaned in, maintaining eye contact, and handed you a black card with a hint of mystery.
“Go crazy,” he smirked, settling in with his glasses, preparing to read the book laying on the nightstand.
You stared at the black card and then at him. The question lingered – how did a professor end up with a black card? Weren't those reserved for big spenders and invite-only privileges?
“There's no need to be shy, love. Ask whatever it is you want to ask,” he reassured you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Your cheeks warmed at how well he seemed to know you.
“How are you so rich? I mean, no offense, but I thought professors and teachers weren’t really that... well-off,” you inquired, genuine curiosity in your voice.
“I'm not only a professor, beautiful. I worked at my father’s company before he passed, and now I’m the owner and the CEO. Teaching is just a side job,” he explained, shedding light on his financial standing.
“Oh, I didn’t expect that. So what do you do?” you asked.
“Investment banking,” he replied quickly, not seemingly open to having a conversation about it.
You didn’t really know what that meant but you also really didn’t care. He had money and you were gonna spend it.
“Huh, okay. Does that mean I can buy whatever I want?” you tilted your head at him, a teasing expression on your face with slightly raised eyebrows.
“You can buy whatever you want. Start off by adding the card to your Apple Pay wallet. I want to pay for whatever it is you need. Don’t worry about anything anymore, my love.”
He kissed your forehead, and the gesture made your vision slightly blurry. Eris took such good care of you, and the desire to make him proud lingered in your heart. Wanting to lightheartedly joke with him you tell him how much he reminds you of a dominating sugar daddy.
“Yeah? A dom sugar daddy, huh? How about you come here and give me something sweet, then?”
His taunting voice almost turned your brain to mush. This dynamic was entirely new and felt amazing. Eris embodied a provider, protector, and lover, all in one. No more worrying about the bare minimum or small things – he treated you like a queen. Unlike people your age, he didn't play games or ask for something in return for his gestures; it was a standard for him, a refreshing change.
You were well aware that Eris's fucking would leave you in need of a nap, so you decided to playfully tease him now, saving the rest for later.
“I promise to give you something real sweet after I’m done shopping, daddy.”
Damn. You knew you should’ve saved it for later. The man grabbed your giggling form and quickly turned it into moans, whimpers and sobs.
Obviously and sadly you couldn’t go outside together and shop so you had to order things online, but it was fine because it was so much more convenient this way. With a few clicks, your numerous packages arrived. Was it rude to order so much on someone else’s card? Hmm… maybe for regular people, but not for you. The man had a black card aka no fucking limit. You could buy literally anything and it would go through. So you did what any sane person with an unlimited budget did.
You shopped your ass off.
Clothes, makeup, skincare, books – you turned his doorstep into a glam runway. Nails, lashes, hair appointments – basically, you scheduled a spa day for yourself via delivery. Waxes, new phone case, upgraded computer – you were basically giving your whole life a makeover. Better shoes, nicer bag – You didn't just shop; you leveled up your entire wardrobe.
When you saw the damage of your shopping spree in his living room your cheeks heated as you looked at him with an apologetic smile.
But Eris wasn’t mad, not in the slightest. There was truly no better feeling than being able to spoil you. He loved your facial expressions when you saw something that caught your eye, loved the way your eyes sparkled when you saw a cute piece of jewelry that you just had to have. Your unapologetic way of spending his money was such a turn on for him. You sure showed him how much you appreciate him…
The weekend with Eris was almost over, and the thought of going back to school didn't sit well with you. Being with him felt comfortable and safe, away from potentially judgmental eyes and consequences. Now, you had to act like he's just another professor, dealing with thirsty whispers from fellow students that made your fists tighten. And don't get started on Professor Jensen – despite your warnings, she still managed to hover around Eris. Guess you’d just prove your words weren’t just words and that being around Eris would give her consequences. The return to the school routine felt like a looming storm, and you weren't looking forward to it.
You voiced your concerns to him and he gave you comfort and promised that you’d be spending more time with each other next weekend and all weekends forward.
After your final night routine, you fall asleep together, finding comfort and warmth in each other's embrace. The room quieted down, and your drift off into a peaceful slumber.
However, the peace was short-lived. Hearing a muffled thud, you attempted to snuggle closer to Eris, only to find his heated presence absent. Sitting up, you assumed he might be in the bathroom. As minutes passed without his return, worry crept in, and the realization hit you – you had grown accustomed to his warmth, and now, sleep seemed impossible without him by your side.
You got a blanket and wrapped it around you, got into the fuzzy slipper he got you and went to look for him.
Shirtless, Eris stood there, speaking harshly into his phone. Another male voice emanated from the speaker, filled with concern and fear.
“I won't repeat myself. The deal happens tomorrow night, or you will face consequences. Inquire with your father. Oh, wait, that’s right, you can't.”
Eris's voice turned taunting and cruel, unlike the playful teasing you were familiar with. This was a cold demeanor you hadn't seen before, a stark departure from the Eris you had grown accustomed to.
“Eris?”
His entire body froze, not expecting to see you awake. He prayed to every god and whatever people prayed to these days that the man on the phone didn't hear your voice. Because there was no telling what he’d do if he found out Eris had a weak spot. He reminded the man of what he said and hung up before turning around and going back into the warm Eris you knew.
“What are you doing up, princess? It's 2 in the morning,” he smiled so warmly and softly at you, it nearly made you forget your words.
“I couldn’t sleep without you. What’s going on? You sounded angry, is everything okay?”
He looked at you with tenderness, grabbing your cheeks before kissing you softly.
“It was just one of my employees at the company who had been slacking off a bit. Don’t worry about me, my love. Let’s get you back to bed.”
You nodded at him, lifting your arms in a sleepy gesture for him to lift you up. With a chuckle and no difficulty, he complied.
Eris cradled your head in the crook of his neck, strategically shielding your view. Unbeknownst to you, his men worked silently in the background, discreetly cleaning up the dead body. He fervently prayed that your drowsiness kept you oblivious to the grim details.
Crossing his fingers, Eris also hoped the presence of his gun on the nearby table escaped your notice in the dimly lit room.
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🏷️ taglist: @teenageeggscissorslawyer @daycourtofficial @nocasdatsgay @vellichor01 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @rowaelinsdaughter @meshellexplosionmurder @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @candyjaypoppins @natashachelsea @whatthefuckshappeningrn @acourtofbatboydreams
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dearest-painter · 10 months ago
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can you do yandere adam and yandere alastor or lucifer like what if they both like the reader
Okay, I do not have Prime at all and I’ve been relying on my friends. The girl hasn’t seen me the screen recorded episode so I’ll do Alastor and Lucifer because I know about them at least
Also I think you wanted romantic? If not tell me to change it. I also only could find a Alastor gif
TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship, Alastor himself, I try to make alastor and Lucifer as canon as I can but like y’all can correct me, tell me if I need to add more
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-Their fighting over you
-Alastor is completely self aware but he does not care, he wants you to himself
-Lucifer is also self aware, he has some guilt but he wants you as well
-Alastor, being himself, fucking kills the demon then eats them (he’s a cannibal) because NO ONE can try to take you away from him
-Lucifer doesn’t need to do much as he’s the literal king of hell, people fear him, yet if they don’t get the hint he’ll kill them
-Alastor is controlling as he doesn’t want to risk the fact of someone stealing or taking you away
-Lucifer is overprotective and tries to stay with you all the time as he doesn’t wanna risk anything
-They fight either be it physically and or verbal because they both want you for themselves
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6lostgirl6 · 10 months ago
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Yandere Alphabet - Demon!Dean Winchester
TW: Toxic Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Controlling Behavior, Hints of Physical Abuse, Hints of Verbal Abuse, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder, Isolation And Spanking As Punishment, Cursing, Manipulation. A/N: Please inform me if I did not tag something correctly. Please know the difference between fictional and reality. While fictional, these types of relationships are extremely toxic, especially in real-life. If your relationship is showcasing these toxic behaviors, please seek help from someone to get out safely. Reblogs are heavily appreciated!!
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Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
He’s a physical lover, and he doesn’t give two fucks about PDA. He’ll kiss and touch you whenever and wherever he likes. He always gives you heated, passionate kisses while grasping all over your body and pressing you up against him. When he’s really affected, he’ll growl while kissing you, and his eyes will flash black on occasion.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
Very messy. Demon Dean, at this point, is a malevolent being and will resort to more grotesque methods when it comes to his darling. Even if it means killing innocent people who look at you the wrong way or dare touch you, well, try. He’ll break the person’s bones before they even lay a finger on you.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
Depending on how you react to the situation, his treatment of you varies. If you behave, he'll treat you good by his definition. However, if you react badly, he's going to not react well. Yes, he’ll mock you, because we need to remember that he may love you, but that doesn't change his nature. He has a cruel sense of humor.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
He’ll make you come with him on his killing sprees. You’re not a fan of blood; that’s too bad. You’ll just have to get used to it, because that’s all you’re ever going to see besides him. Blood and carnage.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
Demon Dean still has some of his old traits from when he was human. He doesn't like expressing his emotions until he trusts you enough. Which would take a long time. However, when he finally trusts you, he’ll be more open about his feelings for you. He still keeps things close to his chest, though he might never speak with you about it. 
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
Oh, he’s pissed.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
No, your relationship isn't a game to him. But getting you to fall in love with him will be like a game, and he'll triumph. It’s only a matter of time. Demon Dean wouldn't like seeing you try to escape; it would automatically anger him. He’ll lash out at you.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Your worst experience with him would be your fights with him. He's scary when he’s angry, especially when it's towards you. He’ll practically scream in your face and manhandle you. Another thing would be him forcing you to see his killing sprees. He doesn't trust you enough to leave you on your own, so you'll have to witness his brutality.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
When it comes to your future with him, you’re stuck with him, and not even death would separate you. He’ll secretly try to uncover a way to turn you into a demon. You'll be isolated from hunters; demons wouldn't dare approach you. He’s the only thing you’ll ever need; nobody else can help you.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
Extremely, however, it’s not because he’s insecure; you simply belong to him and are completely off-limits. Coping, what’s that? He’s going to lash out in a violent way at the person attempting to flirt with you. He left people bloodied to a pulp on the floor before, and he has done worse.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
It’s discrete, but he’s a little softer around you, and he would let you get away with small things that he wouldn’t tolerate if it were another person. As a demon, he’s not afraid to show you how deep his love runs for you. He’s clingy and always has a hand grabbing you somewhere. He’s very possessive, and he tends to keep you to himself.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
When it comes to demon dean, there is no time for courting or lightly approaching you about his feelings. When he kidnapped you, there were no romantic gestures or heartfelt confessions; you simply belonged to him, and you need to get used to it.
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
Of course, Dean treats you differently compared to others. He’s less rough around the edge, and he does try to control his temper better around you. You’re his, and he doesn’t mistreat what belongs to him. 
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
Depending on what you do, however, he'll simply tie you to the bedpost and keep you there until you learn your lesson. He would never intentionally hurt you, but he will force you over your lap and smack your ass until you’re begging for forgiveness. Trust me, he wouldn’t make it fun for you.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
The better question is: how many rights would he allow you to have? All you need to do around him is eat, sleep, and look pretty for him. Misbehave, and you’re going to be chained to the bed again.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
He will have zero patience with you, so you better behave for your own sake. He's not afraid of punishing you, however he sees fit, because you didn’t listen to him or try to escape. Therefore, try not to upset him too much.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
No, he would never move on. If you died or were killed, his rampage would be talked about in Hell for centuries. If you manage to escape, it won’t last long. He’s going to get you back, whatever it takes, so enjoy the freedom while it lasts.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
Ha! Hell no. However, after being cured, he will feel horrible for how he treated you. He’ll feel ashamed that his darker feelings for you were brought to light. He really does love you, but the demonic side of him has horrible ways of showing it.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
His transformation into a demon allowed his yandere tendencies to be brought to the surface. He doesn’t have to hold back his urges anymore, and why would he want to?
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
Of course he doesn’t like it; he prefers you being obedient and rather docile. He would never admit this, but he would want you to be happy with him, even as a demon. If you try avoiding him, he’ll keep bugging you and forcing you to talk to him. He lacks patience, so your screams and cries will only make him angrier the longer you keep having tantrums.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
Demon Dean would never hurt you intentionally, especially by abusing you to make you cooperate. Sure, when he lashes out, there may be a few accidents, but that’s all they are. Accidents. 
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
There are two things you could use: his killing urges and/or feeding into his ego. If you want to play the waiting game, you would have to gain his trust enough to allow you to be out of his sight. Simply pretending to love him won’t be enough because he’ll see right through you. When he goes on his killing sprees, leaving you behind for once will be your chance and only chance to escape. You better protect yourself; he will find you.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
No matter how much he cares about you, he will hurt your feelings at times, especially when he flirts with other women in front of you. When he’s extremely angry or has the itching need to kill something, you need to stay out of his way. He will lash out at you with hurtful words and potential bruises.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
Demon Dean cares about you despite who he is, and he doesn’t like upsetting you. You’re not much fun with tears in your eyes. As a demon, you’re the only one that makes him feel things—feelings he used to hide within when he was human. Anyway, he would go to the ultimate length to win you over. He’s not going to beg on his knees for your love, but he’ll show you how much he worships you in his own way. You want him to kill someone and bring you their head? He'll do it.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
After Dean became a demon and left with Crowley, he didn’t take you with him at the time, no matter how much he wanted to. However, you’ve never left his thoughts, no matter how much he tried to drink your sweet voice away. You haunted him for months until he finally snapped and came after you.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
If Dean was never cured or you never managed a way to escape from him, he’ll find a way to break you and make you depend solely on him. Make you finally see that he is the only thing that would kill to keep you safe. One way or another, he’ll make you fall for him.
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Taglist: Comment to be added/removed!!
@prettywhenibleed @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @huntressandlioness1 @wraith-posts @schizonephilim
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computments · 21 days ago
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wooo first post...starting it off strong with random yandere ghiaccio headcanons. honestly could yap for hours abt this dude | tw for yandere & physical/verbal abuse
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❅ - any moments of tenderness can abruptly shift into violent outbursts at the slightest hint of rejection. a nice cuddle session escalates to an intense one-sided screaming match, bruises (that just never seem to heal) trample over a previous trail of pets and kisses. no satisfaction comes from the marks he leaves. they only serve as a painful reminder of your transgression, and his rectification.
❅ - if your offense wasn't great, or you apologized enough through teary lashes and a quivering lip, he'll patch you up good as new, all the while blaming you for his own explosive outbursts. "it's your fault i reacted like that—you just had to keep pushing me away. how hard is it to just let me hold you, for fuck's sake!?"
❅ - ghiaccio's way of showing love is one that makes sense to him and only him. any sort of cheesy rom-com bullshit like buying flowers or kissing in the rain just pisses him off. it's no wonder you're confused about his feelings for you when all he seems to do is shout and berate you for any small mistake. but he does it because he knows you can be better. that version of you that he fell so deeply in love with hiding behind your confused and trembling visage will come out again. the prettiest diamonds are the ones born under the harshest pressure, after all.
❅ - if he's feeling particularly affectionate, but you're particularly not, ghiaccio has no problem using his stand to "cool you down". just a quick drop in temperature (far beyond what an air conditioner is capable of) and soon you'll be crawling into his arms with chattering teeth, begging for some respite. luckily for you, he's got a nice lap for you to sit on and a pair of arms to hug you tight. it's hard to fight back when you're frozen solid to the couch cushions, yeah?
❅ - though he'd never admit it, these feelings do disturb him somewhat. ghiaccio's not delusional—he's well aware that what he's doing is wrong, but in his mind, you two are the only people worthy of each other's time and affection...you'll understand eventually. and even if you don't, he doesn't mind knocking some compliance into you if that's what it takes.
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jinkicake · 2 years ago
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Jealousy, Jealousy. 
Scaramouche has to process betrayal all over again. 
A/N: I decided to combine the two scara jealousy posts into one big post so it can be read all together >:-)! I had to write desperate (pathetic) scara, i truly am sorry. im tots excited to pull for him, i have 150 wishes for him!   
WC - 2.3k
TW // hints at noncon,, pyscho scara,, verbal abuse,, crazy scara,, yandere scara 
~~~
Scaramouche didn’t notice it at first.
He didn’t predict that one of the guards he personally hand-picked to protect you would end up being soft for you as well. There were clear instructions for none of the four personnel to speak with you, no matter if you spoke to them. Their jobs were clearly stated as to watch you and guard you.
Anything else that you needed was something Scaramouche himself could personally deal with.
How couldn’t he have noticed it before? The lingering stares, the fact that as of late on multiple occasions the guard would return later than the rest. Scaramouche feels his entire body melt into molten lava, he’s fuming inside as he cracks a dent in his wooden desk.
He’ll make you both pay for this affair, the guard will die and you will suffer until you’re begging him to take you back.
The first part had already been dealt with, the guard was long gone in a dark cell the second Scaramouche had even begun to be suspicious. He remembers the fear in the bright eyes of his subordinate, he took pleasure in torturing him until his body could no longer take it.
No matter how much the man denied the allegations of the affair, Scaramouche didn’t believe it.
“Wake up, wench,” Scaramouche is not light with his anger as he swings open the door to your bedroom. The room disgusts him and he remembers how he gave in to your begs for a private space. He was a fool back then, he won’t ever make that mistake again. How many times was that guard in here? How many times had he laid in your bed?
Scaramouche takes pride in how you jolt out of your sleep, flinching against the blankets. Your startled appearance is tinted with the effects of heavy slumber and it takes a few blinks for you to notice the man in the room. The pungent irony smell grabs your attention before Scaramouche’s bloody appearance.
You know for a fact that the blood isn’t his.
“W-What’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice quiet and level, seeing that he is as active as an open minefield. Navigating Scaramouche in such an angered state is the most dangerous thing you have ever done.
“I’m fine.” He replies, eerily calm but the slight twitch in his eye gives his unhinged state away. “You should be asking your little boyfriend what is wrong,” The way he spits out the word boyfriend, lacing the world with venom, makes you flinch.
“My boyfriend?” You parrot back, tilting your head slightly in confusion. The way you feign innocence is enough to push Scaramouche over the edge as he grabs your wrists tightly in his hands.
“Your beloved guard, you filthy whore,” He grins at the thought of the man now being thrown into a prison where he will never see the light of day. His initial plan to kill the other man was stuffed deep into his draw when he thought about how he could make him suffer every single day, death would be too kind.
Your eyes widen in realization, heart dropping at his threat.
“What did you do to Ivano?” You make the mistake to glare up at him, anger now fueling your entire body. “Whatever you think you know, it’s wrong.”
His hand lets go of your wrists, rising high and you’re sure that he is going to slap you until his hands fist in your hair and he presses his face mere inches away from yours.
“I know that you’re a slut, a whore, unloyal to me and this marriage.” The loud boom of his voice only serves to make you angrier and you kick your limbs to try to get him off of you. If you had been in a clearer state of mind then perhaps you would have seen the tears in his lashline or the way his body was shaking with betrayal.
“Are you implying that I have cheated on you? I have done no such thing!” You yell back into his face, hands now roughly pushing at his shoulders.
“Don’t lie to me,"
“You believe that I cheated on you with Ivano?! The one who is married to Tonia, my friend? You’re a fucking fool!”
Scaramouche doesn’t listen to your reasons, he refuses to as he pushes your thighs widely apart and settles in between your legs.
“Your pathetic words mean nothing to me. I will teach you to be loyal, I’ll fuck it into your brain until it is the only thing you know. You will enjoy this.”
Scaramouche’s anger is something you’ve always been able to handle well. At times when he explodes in his expressive manner, you’re there to help ground him. Never before have you been the target of his anger, a mere pinpoint for him to release all of his frustrations on. 
He never gets angry with you, not like this. 
Even in your frozen state with your fear-clouded mind, you can still feel how his hands tremble with uncertainty. Each time the Harbinger had touched you before in the past, he did it with no regard for your wellbeing. He took and took until he was tired, ripping clothes and holding you down with his sheer strength. This time, your softest of movements cause him to falter in his steps. 
“You love me. Say that you love me.” His eerily leveled voice is hinted with desperation, clipping the ends of his words as he stares expectedly at you. Scaramouche waits for your answer while gripping your thighs painfully tight, pushing the muscles apart. “Tell me!” His voice roars throughout the empty room, bouncing off the walls and causing the room to shake. He needs to hear it, has to hear it. 
“I know that you love me, unloyal whore.” Scaramouche murmurs this more to himself as his voice drops to a more quiet tone, now to a whisper. “You love me, love me, love me,” His chest rises and falls with each breath, the sound of his erratic breathing is the only noises being produced in the room. 
There’s not a single noise outside because all of the guards are down. Each one is beaten and lying on the floor against the wall from where the Harbinger threw them. You’re all alone with him. 
The more Scaramouche touches you, the more you start to squirm. You ache and kick your legs as he begins to kiss your neck but your strength is nothing compared to his (even when weakened). He pins your wrists to your sides and continues his ministrations, thin lips creating harsh marks on your skin. His touch is bruising and nothing about this is delicate. 
“Dear, please listen,” You try to explain yourself, you swallow your pity and bite your tongue to avoid telling him off but the Harbinger ignores you. It seems that no amount of pet names or your kindness can get through to him just yet. He growls and nips at your skin in an effort to get you to shut up. “you must understand, I was merely helping Ivano-”
“I know exactly what you were doing with him, you were spreading your legs and letting him dirty you up.” Scaramouche pulls away to glare down at you, grimacing at his own words. It’s almost as if your touch has started to burn him with how he winces under each flex of your limbs. “None of that matters now, it will be fine.” 
There’s no attempt for you to grasp the situation as it slips between your fingers, there is nothing you can do to try and fix this. He doesn’t let you even as he is falling apart.
You know everything about him is off despite how hard Scaramouche is trying to appear normal. It is seen in the way his lips press together to avoid trembling, and how his eyes nearly shake under the stress of the weight he is feeling. Never did you imagine that you could affect him like this.
You’re causing him to break. 
“I know what to do,” Scaramouche’s chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, he’s almost panting as he moves to settle between your legs. The wave of your betrayal drowns him the more he touches you and Scaramouche tries to remind himself that fucking you is nothing new. He struggles to remove your panties and fumbles with the material against his thins fingertips. His eyes dart between your underwear and the sheets, he looks everywhere but your face. 
“Nothing happened between me and-” You want to clear this up, you have to clear this miscommunication. Scaramouche has other plans and digs his nails so harshly into your thighs that the crescent shape will be left there for days, bruised and bloody. 
“Say his name again and I will bite your tongue off.” He doesn’t look at you when he utters his threat, instead, he keeps his eyes low and his vision hidden behind his lashes. “Stay still and quiet, whore.” 
Listening to exactly as he demands would be a lot easier if his voice wasn’t so weak and if his conviction wasn’t so frail. 
Scaramouche fists your panties within his hand and tears the material off of your body, letting it snap against your skin to finally get rid of it. The more he forces himself, the harder it becomes for him. At the sight of you splayed out for him, at his mercy, bottom bare and (unwillingly) submissive to his touch, Scaramouche finally begins to tremble all over. 
His shoulders shake with his overwhelming nerves and his eyes drop to the sheets, darting all over the place except for you and your body. 
“I hate you,” He murmurs weakly. Slowly, he presses his forehead to the sheets on the other side of your thigh, his hands fist tightly as he pounds them against the bed. “I HATE YOU.” The anger from before has come back stronger than ever as he moves in a flash to hover over top of you again. His finger is pressed into your chest, accusing you of your infidelities as he screams in your face. “You’ve ruined me.”
Despite your current dislike for the man, despite all the insults he has thrown in your face and all the harm he has inflicted on you, you have no choice but to hold him together. You don’t want to hate him. 
You gently wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug the sixth Harbinger. Scaramouche tries to fight you, he thrashes under your touch but ultimately gives in and falls into your chest. 
He doesn’t deserve your kindness, he doesn’t deserve your pity but, you can’t help but give it to him. There is a part of you that wants to ease his hurt, to soothe his ache even if he doesn’t deserve it. 
“I took an oath on our wedding day,” You quietly tell him and softly run your fingers along his shaking back. “to be honest and faithful to you for the rest of my days.” Scaramouche’s fingers twitch against your bicep, bluntly digging into your arm as he awaits your next words. “I wouldn’t do this to you, no matter how much you must want me to.” 
Scaramouche pushes against you again, this time placing his palms flat against either side of your head before moving to look you in the eyes. 
“Why would I want something like that?” He snarls at you, lips curling in anger but you can see the red tinting his eyes and the streaks on his cheeks. “You’re an idiot, a good for nothing partner who can’t stay loyal to me.” You gingerly lift your hand to his face to cup his cheek. 
“Why would I cheat on you?” Your calm voice makes his eyes widen and the honesty in your eyes slowly puts his broken heart back together. “Tonia’s birthday was two days ago, my dear. As her friend, I helped pick out a gift.” There is a method to your words and how you purposely avoided the guard’s name so as to not upset your husband any further. 
Scaramouche’s face transforms from anger to something of disbelief, it’s as if he’s grimacing with the way his face scrunches together. He dips his head and allows his hair to cover his face entirely. 
“Is that all?” He whispers and waits for your reply. Scaramouche presses his lips together to stop himself from trying to poke holes in your excuse because, for once, he wants to believe you. The Harbinger waits and pretends that your answer won’t have a catastrophic effect on the rest of his life. 
“It is true.” You quietly murmur back as your thumb starts to stroke his cheekbone. The tenderness of the action causes your husband to freeze above you, eyes widening in shock at how gentle you are being with him. He watches as your face morphs from that of tenderness to a frown. The purse of your lips makes his breath hitch. “Do you really hate me?”
It’s Scaramouche’s turn to frown now. He mulls over his words, eyes staring holes into your sheets as he thinks and thinks. 
He hates how weak you make him. 
He hates how dependent he is on you. 
He hates your stupid smile and your explosive hair and your pathetic laughter. 
He hates how much he loves you. 
His hands find your hips again and gently squeeze against your sides. Scaramouche is a prideful figure and he’s not sure he could ever confess his love to you verbally after the embarrassing hurt he just suffered (at the fault of his own hand). But, he can show you. 
“After this, you’ll never ask such a ridiculous question ever again.”
The two of you will be alright, you’re sure, as alright as you could ever be. 
taglist - @ilumination @etherisy @eliciana @lumid0rk
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oskea93 · 4 months ago
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← Take Me Away (Intro) →
OC x Jamie Campbell Bower (AU 1970s)  Warnings: TW—> This story will contain the following: (domestic violence, physical/verbal assault, cursing, sexual content, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, self harm). Please do not read if you are triggered by any of these warnings. This is a work of fiction only. I do not own Jamie or any other famous people mentioned. 
A/N: Hello again! So I decided to restart this story again because i'm currently in my JCB era and there just needs to be more stories out there featuring this man! With that being said, Jamie will not be the Jamie we know and love today. His name and image is being used, but there will be moments where he is not a very nice guy. Kind of like Caleb from Horizon. But there will also be moments where he is the lovable guy he typically is. I just want to thank those that either stuck with this fic or just recently found it!
☺︎ IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED, JUST DROP A COMMENT ☺︎
“So, tell me about Jamie.”
“What do you wanna know?”
The interviewer looked down at her notes, “What was life with him like – in private.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, somewhat afraid to answer. “Chaotic- “I started. “Wonderful in many ways but a total shitstorm all at the same time. He knew what to say and when to say it, but his words and actions weren’t always pleasing.”
I paused, searching for the right words to convey the whirlwind that was our life together. “Jamie was incredibly charismatic. He could light up any room he walked into, and people were naturally drawn to him. His charm was almost intoxicating; it made you feel special just being around him. But that charm had a flip side. In private, it wasn’t always so magical. There were days when his mood would swing dramatically, and you never knew what to expect.”
“How so?” The interviewer questioned.
I shrugged my shoulders, slouching a bit in my seat as I reflected on the complicated nature of the person in question. "He was his own villain," I began, my voice tinged with a mix of sympathy and disappointment. "He tried so hard to make a name for himself in the industry. After years of working closely with all these high-profile artists, indulging in the debauchery they played with, he lost sight of who he truly was."
I paused, choosing my words carefully as I continued, "Your sins catch up to you eventually, and the way you treat people changes. It's like a slow erosion of your values and morals until one day, you look in the mirror and realize you're not the person you thought you were."
My companion listened intently, absorbing my words before posing a poignant question, "Was he the love of your life?" The inquiry hung in the air, laden with layers of emotion and history, hinting at a deeper connection that transcended professional ties and delved into matters of the heart.
As I delved into the depths of my memories, recounting the chapters of my life that intertwined with the complexities of rising to fame at the tender age of 17, I knew that the tale of Jamie and me would be a pivotal thread in the fabric of my story. It was a narrative rooted in scandal and secrecy, a forbidden love that blossomed amidst the chaotic backdrop of rock 'n' roll excess and the stark contrast of a preacher's daughter entwined with a man hired to shield her from the very temptations she found herself succumbing to.
We wove a web of deception, attempting to shield our burgeoning relationship from prying eyes and wagging tongues, but the silent exchanges, the subtle gestures, and the lingering gazes between us belied the truth we sought to conceal. Jamie was a force of nature, a whirlwind of contradictions that both thrilled and terrified me in equal measure. His charm was a siren song that beckoned me into uncharted waters, his humor a balm to soothe the turbulence within my soul, his love a flame that flickered dangerously close to consuming us both.
In Jamie, I found a kindred spirit, a partner in crime who mirrored my own reckless abandon and insatiable thirst for life. He was the grenade to my pin, the catalyst that ignited a chain reaction of emotions and experiences that would forever alter the course of my existence. He was the bomb to my clock, ticking away the moments until our inevitable collision, our destinies irrevocably intertwined in a dance of passion and peril.
I had always been taught that God sends people into our lives for a reason, be it for our growth or our downfall. Jamie was no exception—a temporary fix that morphed into a permanent fixture, a fixture that brought both the brightest joys and the darkest sorrows of my young life. His presence was a paradox, a riddle wrapped in an enigma, a conundrum that I struggled to unravel even as I found myself ensnared in the web of our shared destiny.
I shifted in the plastic seat, my denim-clad legs crossing tightly. “Well—” I spoke, my voice wavering slightly. “That’s quite a title to give someone who could love you one minute and then treat you worse than a dog the next.” I smiled sadly, the memories flooding back with a mix of warmth and pain.
As I penned the words that would immortalize our tumultuous love affair on the pages of my memoir, I couldn't help but marvel at the intricate tapestry of fate that had woven our paths together. The story of Jamie and me was a testament to the volatile alchemy of passion and pain, of love and loss, of growth and destruction—a story that would echo through the annals of time as a cautionary tale of the perils and pleasures of forbidden love. And as I laid bare the raw truths of our tumultuous romance, I knew that Jamie would forever hold a piece of my heart, a shard of my soul, a chapter in my life that would never truly be closed.
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yanderesimp2000 · 1 month ago
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evil yandere Lucifer x exorcist reader (EVIL LUCIFER AU)
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sorry for making this but I think Lucifer has a type for Adam women
TW Adam is an verbally abusive asshole,power inbalance Lucifer is much more powerful, aggressive fearful exorcist/reader, EVIL Lucifer,implied kidnapping,bruising, pinning, the devil acting like..... a devil,Lucifer Slowy becoming for evil
also lillth has been gone from Lucifer's life by now
SORRY THIS MIGHT BE SO OUT OF CHARCTER
START OF STORY
you are one of Adams exorcist soliders after the extermination Adam was again yelling at you for "killing like no one and being a useless whore" it ended in Adam yelling a few more degrading and sexist words at you before slamming the door on you. you went into your room and sat there feeling useless when suddenly the devil himself Lucifer appeared In front of you who has been watching the whole time "Hey... you alright?" he'd ask in a soothing voice you quickly notice its him and pull your spiked mace out on him "GET AWAY DEVIL" you yell at him "Hey whoa whoa calm down I'm not gonna hurt you" he said in a reassuring manner as he held his hands up in defense "Now how about you put that mace of your's down" He said gently, still in his reassuring demeanor "NO YOU FILTHY DEMON" you yell at him he had an eyebrow raised but was still keeping his calm demeanor "C'mon your gonna hurt yourself with that thing so just please put it down and relax, I swear I'm not here to hurt you" you chose to stop waiting and swing at him but he grabs the handle of the mace and makes it poof into the air and you fall on your face
he couldn't help but chuckle at you falling down onto your face, but still made sure to ask if you're alright "Hehe, you ok down there?" you get angry "WHAT DO YOU WANT" you scream at him he extended a hand to you to help you get up but didn't force it on you, wanting to make sure you're comfortable "I just wanted to see why you looked so sad and hurt back there and I just wanted to come check on you" you stay silent before saying "how were you watching your supposed to be in hell and why me there are hundreds of exoricist" Lucifer chuckles "Well yes I was in hell but I was bored out of my mind so I came up here to entertain myself a bit" he said and then chuckled at his next response "Also I picked you cause I think you're very cute~" you then ask in response "yeah but how did you get up here and don't call me cute you filthy beast your lucky im not calling in other exorcists to put you'd own" you said to that fucking smug handsome face he smirked at that statement, clearly being humored by how confident you are. he then began responding "Oh well I have my ways of getting up here, you don't even wanna know" he paused, still chuckling before saying "And I'll call you what ever I want ~" he then began to circle you like a predator slowly closing in on its prey "w-what do you want" you say starting to get scared he continued to circle you, a smile and a hint of lust on his face "Now I didn't exactly have a goal to begin with but I guess now I wanna play a little with you... I wonder how long you'll last eve and lillith didn't last a long time such a bore" he giggled as you looked up at him in fear he was finally in front of you, his body almost touching yours and he bent down to be at eye level with you and placed a clawed finger under your chin, making you look at him "But you... you look like you'll be so much more fun~" you get so scared and try to scream for help he chuckled and placed a hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming and pulled you closer "shhhh not so loud my dear~" you punch him but he does not even react much he pulled his hand away from your mouth to feel where you punched him and chuckled at how little it did. "Awe you really trying to fight back against me~ that's adorable~"
he then grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his grip was tight and it bruised them "But I'd recommend not to fight back against the literal devil my dear~" you whimper in fear he chuckled as he heard you whimper, it was both humorous and cute in his eyes. he tightened his grip on your wrists, causing more bruising to your wrists and moved his head so that it was next to your ear "Awe~ that was a cute noise ~" suddnely he starts to change form to his much bigger and scarier pure demon form he chuckled as he transformed into his larger demonic form, now towering over you. his grip on your wrists got even tighter as he looked down at you with a sinister smile "You look so small and weak~" you start to lighty cry "d-dont hurt me" you say softly he loved the sight of you crying and whimpering and your desperate plea, it made him want to toy and play with you for even longer. he tilted your face so that you were looking directly at him and he brought his face close to yours "Awe~ begging me not to hurt you~" he gave a sinister chuckle that sent shivers down your spine “You look so cute when you’re begging~” he took his free hand and placed it on your bruised bruised wrist, his clawed fingers lightly rubbing the marks “Such a fragile little thing for an exorcist~”
his expression was almost cruel as he continued to watch you whimper helplessly in his grip, his claws occasionally digging into your skin “You can’t seriously be an exorcist~” Lucifer smirks “You’re so pathetic and weak ~” he chuckled and leaned down so that his face was right by your ear again and whispered “But I like that ~” you shake in fear and say "w-what are you gonna do with me" he let go of your wrists and grabbed you in and picked you up, holding you like a bride “I’m going to have SO much fun with you~”
the next morning when you didn't show up for training Adam went into your room to find you gone
you were never seen again
END OF CHAPTER
that was so bad lol
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todorokistheories · 3 months ago
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Endeavor Is One Of My Favorite Characters
I don't agree with his redemption from a viewer standpoint but heres the thing no one seems to realize.
It's really realistic.
tw: discussion of abuse, toxic masculinity, it's the todorokis what do you expect
I can't count how many middle aged men I've seen realize that what they were told about being a man their entire life was false. They never learned to mature, sit with their feelings, and all they were left with was this anger they never learned how to control.
Now let me make this clear. I am IN NO WAY defending his actions.
Think of those older men you know who are still misogynistic, prideful, greedy. They all think they're better than everyone else because if they don't, they have nothing.
Fathers, uncles, grandfathers, even brothers who were just too proud to sit with the fact that all they've done is hurt have a breaking point. Sometimes that point comes when they're on their deathbed.
Or, like Bakugou he was taught by the ppl around him that he was what everyone wanted to be.
Difference is... he grew up. Endeavor didn't.
He had the great success of his 20s, a loving wife who was bought specially for him, the public's awe, and his first ever prodigy who was going to be even more special than him. He was in the best position he'd ever be in his whole life.
That's why All Might's success messed with him so much.
He was at the highest point of his life and career and he STILL wasn't good enough to become number one.
For a man who only has his pride, that's a huge ego crusher. Unlike bakugou he never sat with this. He became obsessed, deciding that if he couldn't be the best then he'd train his kids so that they were. That way he was still worth something. Because all of his worth was tied to his success.
It didn't matter what stood in his way, because he had two choices: succeed, or admit to himself that he was a failure.
For men who bought into toxic masculinity, yeah that wasn't an option.
And then his worst failure happened. Touya burned.
He died and suddenly those voices that told Enji that he was a failure grew loud enough for him to lash out at everyone who might even hint that they agree. Unfortunately, Rei was in the forefront of that. Every comment about their children turned into a criticism that his ego couldn't handle. It was a personal attack.
And then his second failure happened. Shouto burned.
Suddenly, the shame was too much to handle. So, he sent away the person who would constantly remind him of his inadequacies: Rei. Sent her away to never see the light of day again because he couldn't face it.
He locked everything away and threw away the key, shutting down Shouto verbally and physically just so that he didn't have to think about what he's done. Because he's special, remember? He's better than everyone. He is worth something because he's special.
Then Touya, who he shoved all of this generational trauma onto, turned out to be alive. Not only is he alive, he's the antithesis of what Enji fought his whole life to be.
Suddenly, he couldn't hide anymore. The whole world knew he was a fraud. He's forced to face the jealousy, the embarrassment, the shame, and the feeling of worthlessness that he ruined his life to run away from in the first place.
His career, gone. Image, gone. Youth, gone. His life is over and all he is left with is the shards of a family he broke years ago.
So he embraces it. He accepts the blame for the first time in his life.
And it changes for the better. He can't undo it. He can't fix what he hurt. And he can't truly repair anything. But he can try and that's worth something even if he's not.
This is a scenario that happens daily. This is something that happens in real life. And no one is expected to forgive these people for the harm they've caused. But understanding it is the first step to not repeating it. So yeah, I fucking hate Endeavor but goddamn he's well written.
Horikoshi wrote something very accurate to the experiences thousands of people have and I appreciate that. It's needed in media. There's many things he's done with the Todoroki family that I do not agree with, but the premise of Endeavor's redemption is one that rings true.
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burningvelvet · 10 months ago
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My analysis on Heathcliff and his relationships, and some interesting excerpts from Juliet McMaster's "The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery" via JSTOR (TW: abuse, sa/sexual violence, generally graphic and potentially triggering content)
*note: I've had half of this in my drafts for a while. My last reblog, which discusses Heathcliff's lack of attraction to Cathy II, inspired me to finally expand on & post it. That reblog is here: https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/738896230943522816
Cathy II is one of my favorite characters and I think her dynamic with Heathcliff is fascinating. I would say that while he may not be attracted to her (indeed, he sometimes seems repulsed by her) his behavior toward her IS explicitly predatory as it includes lying to her, manipulating her, physically abusing her, kidnapping her, and forcing her into a marriage in which he helped to seduce her with love letters under his son's name.
Combine this with his behavior toward his wife Isabella, in which sexual violence may be easily inferred as he says Isabella hated him a day into their marriage (and sure, some people conceive on the first try, but what are the odds? and the concept of marital rape didn't legally exist back then) — not to mention Heathcliff calling her a slut (sexually violent epithet* *editing this post to say that "slut" was a mainly gendered term, but in Brontë's time it didn't have today's more sexualized meaning; for most of history it primarily meant "slovenly" aka messy/careless), and both of them vaguely referring to heinous abuses she undergoes in private (and what could be worse than what we already know about his treatment of his subordinates). With how determined he was to get a male heir, and that being the whole reason why he married her, it is not much of a stretch to assume that he bedded her multiple times until she showed signs of pregnancy. It is a very easy thing to infer actually.
He was probably as insulting and as violent (or at the very least, cold) with her in bed as he always was in every other aspect from the very start of their relationship. As they both confirm that she receives his abuse openly (until her escape), and as she wishes to be a "good wife," she likely did not struggle to avoid her "marital duties," but again, she clearly hates him for most of her marriage, and we learn that she despises him immediately after their marriage when the veil finally fully drops. And with how upfront with her he initially was about his intentions, and how his own verbal admissions + outright verbal abuse failed to quell her desire for him initially, what more than physical and especially sexual violence could have led Isabella to despise him so soon after their consummation? Their sexual experiences couldn't have gone splendidly for her, and for him it was likely a mechanical chore he likely resented and was therefore probably not delicate with (he hates delicacy anyway).
Yet, while Heathcliff is violent and predatory (in the colloquial as well as the primal, animalistic sense, as he is always related to nature even in his very name), he also contains hints of a long-buried goodness, as we all know, and this is what makes him a fascinating protagonist. He has a capacity for strong feeling, a deliberate if not faulty moral code, and he sometimes shows kindness accidentally.
This is why Heathcliff catching baby Hareton is such a pivotal moment in the story, because it is only after he saves his life that he actually realizes what he's done and then muses that he should've let the child die. This scene shows that his natural subconscious instinct is actually good, and that his external situations are what have shaped his darker impulses on the conscious level. In other words, he causes us to examine the nature vs nurture debate.
Despite later abusing him, Heathcliff sees Hareton as a son-like figure in his own twisted way, and in the end as he loses his life forces, he gives Hareton and Cathy II his blessings like a father would — he essentially is Hareton's father, and he is legally Cathy II's father-in-law, first through his son Linton and then we could say through his unofficial adoption of Hareton, who he says he would have preferred as a son. So Cathy II has Heathcliff as a sort of double father figure, though of course she would never accept this.
At one point, Heathcliff notes that he takes good care not to do anything that could be proven to be criminal or illegal. In his usual exactness, he was pretty much right. He is always tip-toeing the line of immorality: in the gothic literary tradition, his relationship with Cathy I has incestuous undertones, but they are not legally or biologically related, and so he skates by.
He declares that he has no regrets and that he's done nothing wrong by technical standards. Manipulating, lying, mental and physical abuse of one's financial dependents, and marital rape (hypothetical or not) were all within legal bounds for the most part, and even the forced marriage of Linton H./Cathy II was done through the process of emotional blackmail (and physical evidence in the form of her love letters) so that in his mind, he wasn't actually responsible.
However, Heathcliff may have reasoned that sexually abusing one's daughter-in-law in revenge may be in violation of the law; that he would gain severe detraction from his "slaves" Nelly, Hareton, even Joseph; and that if such a huge scandal broke out, he would have a harder time finding tenants, etc. — also, I don't think Heathcliff would have felt like he "needed" to sexually abuse Cathy II to get revenge against her/her family, because as he says, at that point he already has his revenge and his victory; he already has her lands, and degrades her every day by forcing her to be a servant and a slave, and by abusing her in every other way. Sexually abusing her would be an extra effort on his part.
And I don't think he would gain anything out of it aside from revenge. I don't really think Heathcliff has much sexual interest in anyone at all, probably not due to inborn asexuality but due to his depression, trauma, emotional repression, and general issues. Although he and Cathy I have an extremely passionate spiritual relationship, I can't say that I believe he ever experienced fully actualized/conscious sexual feelings even for her. Considering their youth and rocky position when he leaves her for his hiatus, and the very brief period of their reunion, their relationship was likely never "consummated" — or at least I see no hard textual evidence to suggest that it was, although I'm sure many people could probably argue against this. And regardless of whether or not he and Cathy I ever had a physically sexual relationship, I don't think he could ever really be seriously attracted to anyone but her.
But in order to get his revenge, he did bed Isabella likely multiple times until her pregnancy. And as McMaster demonstrates below, by encouraging Cathy II to marry his son — and quite literally seducing her himself by writing love letters to her under his son's name — Heathcliff essentially beds her by proxy, if not in actuality. He wants her property, and he wants her, and because his son is the same age as her and dying, he decides to use him as the perfect pawn to access her by
If Linton H. died before he could be married to Cathy II, would Heathcliff have attempted to marry Cathy II on his own? I think this is a fascinating topic to theorize about, and I can only assume the answer would be yes, because Hareton wouldn't have worked as a pawn, though perhaps Heathcliff would have simply manipulated Hareton to sign over Cathy II's inheritance to him instead (as the laws of marital coverture meant husbands were entitled to 100% of their wives money/property/inheritance). But at that point Heathcliff was still looking for revenge (and therefore may not have been adverse to getting it like he did in his first marriage with Isabella), and he may not have wanted to be financially responsible for the newly weds and their potential offspring, or to suffer legal repercussions if Cathy II or someone else convinced Hareton to hire a lawyer lol. But I digress.
And as the last quote in the following list demonstrates, I think it was not only a touch of the gothic incest theme that Emily was going for by having Lockwood assume Cathy II is Heathcliff's wife, but that it was intentionally symbolic of how weird and difficult-to-define their relationship is: they don't act like father and daughter in-laws, but he is legally her provider and in-house patriarch, and she is the lady of the house, and she is the closest thing to her mother he has. I could write whole essays about that last point & the similarities of both Catherines, such as their fearlessness, particularly toward Heathcliff (and I believe this makes him uncomfortable and even scares him at times).
---
Excerpts from Juliet McMaster's "The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery" via JSTOR:
"Linton is called at one point 'only a feeble tool to his father' (205). In the sexual context he becomes a sort of human dildo, which his father uses to rape and degrade the second Catherine, the child bride whose birth caused the death of the Catherine whom Heathcliff loved."
"'Making love in play, eh?' says Heathcliff of the young couple, with grim jocularity (188). And that is the way in which Bronte develops this courtship of juveniles."
"Heathcliff even writes half of Linton's love letters for him, so that they turn out 'singularly odd compounds of ardour and flatness,' 'copious love letters, foolish as the age of the writer rendered natural, yet with touches, here and there, which I thought were borrowed from a more experienced source' (182), records Nelly. Catherine is being wooed by son and father together. And when the time comes, the marriage is consummated by the same team."
"[Linton] takes his pleasure, when Catherine pushes him off, in summoning his father and in witnessing the physical domination of his bride [..]"
"After Heathcliff abducts and incarcerates young Catherine and her attendant, he keeps our narrator, Nelly, imprisoned for 'five nights and four days' (220). Meanwhile the marriage ceremony is performed, but we have no one to describe it for us."
"'She's not to go; we won't let her' [..] Now more than ever Linton's life and opinions are ruled by his father: he can do little more than parrot what 'he says.' If Linton's satisfied mein suggests the happy bridegroom, his role as husband, lord and master is shared with his father."
"Heathcliff testifies, 'I heard him draw a pleasant picture to Zillah of what he would do [to Catherine], if he were as strong as I. The inclination is there' (228). Linton evidently has a conception of himself and his father as complementary in this sexual context, part of a team."
"Heathcliff's appropriation of the property and physical abuse of the bride leaves her in effect deflowered. His brutal blow that makes the blood flow recalls his symbolic defloration of Isabella, Linton's mother, when he hurls the knife."
"[Heathcliff] won't listen to Nelly's pleas that since he hates the young couple he may as well let them stay at the Grange. 'I want my children about me, to be sure,' he answers with chilling irony; '—besides, that lass owes me her services for her bread' (227). One wonders what sort of 'services' he has in mind. He apparently intends to prolong the honeymoon at which he has assisted. And as he takes her away, there is some doubt, as in Lockwood's mind at the beginning of the novel, whether Catherine is Heathcliff's daughter-in-law or his bride [..]"
Source: McMaster, Juliet. “The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery.” Victorian Review, vol. 18, no. 1, 1992, pp. 1–12. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27794707.
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rreskk · 1 year ago
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Dear ol' Trev
I'm experimenting with heavier topics, like smut. So if you're sensitive to the subject of "BDSM", don't read! I'll be answering requests soon enough, thank you for being patient :)
Summary: Trevor was untamed and aggressive. There was only one way to force him out of that toxic mentality.
TW: -heavy smut (BDSM) -Violence (Death threats)
Pairings: Dom!Fem reader/ Trevor Philips
Word count: 2971
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For the past three days, he has been unrightfully slaughtering every flaw he deceives, and the judgement has been clashed onto you. So for the past three days, you’ve been verbally insulted with every fibre of his body. Reason complied? Unknown. You haven’t recalled doing anything wrong, or anything to cause this spike of anger. Alas, you have been nothing but idle for the past days. He hasn’t made the effort to conversate, fuck, treat you with dignity. Ever since he came home from Los Santos, he’s been ugly and obscene.
You’ve tried to argue against this sudden aggression, challenging his authority, and it would get physical. Right now, he was more than physical. You had lost your temper and called him every name under the sun and he was provoked beyond belief. His face was red, eyes filled with angry tears, fists clenched as his nails would pierce the skin underneath. Trevor stood an arms-length away from you, his eyes burning daggers into yours.
“Say that again.” His voice hoarsely demanded.
“You heard me.”
“You little shit.” Trevor croaked, his vexation becoming hostile.
You raised an eyebrow, “What’s the problem? I don’t see a lie.”
His lips twitched into a snarl and he grabbed the collar of your shirt, threatening to toy you around. His neck and arm veins were pulsing. You wondered if he strained anymore, they may burst.
“Keep your mouth shut. You’re pissing me off, big time.”
“You’ve been pissing me off for the last 72 hours.”
“You don’t say?” He cruelly hissed, “And you repay that by insulting me, [y/n]? You think it’s funny abusing dear ol’ Trev?”
“Cut that creepy shit out. You’re disgusting – “
“Ohhh… Complaints, complaints, complaints. You always FUCKING complain.”
“Maybe you should take the fucking hint and MAN UP!” You shouted in his face, “The moment your revolting scent arrived at my door after a week of no calls or texts, you had the audacity to operate and belittle me? Like what? I was some slave? Oh yeah, what a lovely man dear ol’ Trev is. What a lovely cunt!”
“THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?”
“Just get out, seriously – “
Trevor pushed you back violently as he threw his arm over the dining table, all the plates and clutter falling onto the floor with a big crash. You glared at him after finding your balance.  He maintained that deep scowl, eyes not leaving yours as it went silence, only the background noise of glass crunching under his work boots.
“How fucking dare you.” You heaved, the energy you have left slowly running out.
“You gonna complain again, sugar?” Trevor tongued as you saw the strands of his saliva spit with vemon.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
“I know you,” He continued, “You wouldn’t last a week without me.”
“Me? Really? Please! That’s utter bullshit.”
“Yeah… Really.” At this point, Trevor was breathing down on you, his arms locking you against the wall behind. He began to smirk at how trapped you were. He enjoyed seeing you covered in his shadow with that nasty look in your eye.
You tried to lean away, despite his nudges. His hands began leaving achy bruises on your wrists, them cruel fingers spreading his disease while you avoided the discourse of his intoxicating breath. It smelt like death. Your throat numbed at the inhale of his mucky scent, and before you knew it, he lowered his head and began to combatively whisper slander in your ear.
“I ain’t leaving, prick. I am not leaving this place until it’s fuckin’. You hear me?” His hot breath antagonising your neck.
“Get off me, Trevor.”
“No, I think you like it.”
“You fucking pervert!”
His voice rumbled, “Mmm… Maybe I am. Maybe I’m just a burden, a pervert, a creep. Maybe I just wanna bash your fuckin’ head in? What do you think about that, baby? Sounds good?”
You striked his cheek suddenly, his frame falling back at the impact. Trevor held his cheek with a disturbed expression, his eyes wide. Your hand stung with succession as you gave him a gnarly grin.
“I think that’s a great idea, Trevor,” You said, approaching him, “Maybe I should bash your fucking head in,” Your left hand rapidly grasped his jaw before he could fight back, “And you’ll definitely enjoy it.”
“The fuck? –“ He whinged when you grabbed his neck and jaw.
“What’s the matter? It’s not nice being treated like a dog, isn’t it?” Your other hand jolted forwards, hitting his cheek again where a small cry of pain left his lips.
“Fuckin’ stop!”
“You are going to pick up every shard of glass on this very floor. If you don’t, I’m kicking your ass goodbye. You got that?” You shouted in his flushed face.
Trevor threw your hands off, a look of disgust painting his face. He studied you up and down, a sense of uncertainty behind those unstable eyes.
“You’re taking the shitting piss, [y/n]. I’m not doing that.” He mocked.
“You are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Really?” You licked your teeth, “I think you are.”
He sent you a hefty glare, “The fuck are you playing?”
“You want to play?”
“What? – “
“Okay, Trevor. If you really wanna play.” Within a second, Trevor felt his trousers being torn off as he cried out in surprise. His hands automatically covered his bulge but you slapped them away, your fists threatening to interrogate his crotch.
“[y/n], fuck off!” He demanded, fighting against your hands.
“No, I think you like it.” You reflected his words from before, smirking.
“Stop! – “ His voice wobbled with vulnerability. He bellowed forwards and tried to pull his trousers up until his underwear was confiscated as well. Trevor gritted his teeth, seeing you enjoy the struggle he was going through when his cock was on display. He noticed you were grinning at his exposure, feeling fragile and insecure, “C’mon – this ain’t funny. Fuck off!”
“Awh…” You teased and allowed him to scatter, his trousers clumsily being buckled up again. He did not look happy. Trevor’s nostrils flared as he stared at you with raw fury.
“You think this is funny?” He shouted, “You’re a fuckin’ cunt!”
“Easy…”
“EASY? YOU TELLING ME TO BE EASY?”
“You always liked showing yourself off. What’s so bad about it now?” You questioned, smirking up at him.
Trevor stumbled backwards, his feet stomping on the shards of glass that he littered. One piece made a crunching sound from under his foot. He gazed up to see if you had noticed, biting his lip when you stared heavily; watching his every move like a vulture feasting on it’s future prey, the impulsive climax barely containing itself.
His lips snarled when you spoke again, “I heard it – you heard it.”
“I ain’t cleaning.” He responded, crossing his arms.
“Why not?”
“Because I ain’t. You can’t make me.”
“Oh, okay.” You hummed and dismissed the conversation, turning your back.
Trevor smirked when he thought you backed away from the argument. He uncrossed his arms and whistled, singing your name as he placed his foot over a broken frame of you and him. Once he had gained your attention, Trevor licked his lips and pressed down, breaking the picture even more – clearing wanting a strong reaction, as he found it enjoyable.
You felt something stab your gut when he pathetically destroyed the only good picture of you both. And he smiled after it broke. It made you distressed, furious, hated. He stood there carefree, his belt still loose from your stunt beforehand, making him look like a golden stud. A golden stud you wanted to hammer.
“Whoops.” He winked, rotating away from the living room before a hard-hitting hand clenched his shoulder, launching him backwards and onto the rumble of glass. Trevor cried out, his skin scratched and prickled by the mess he made.
You stood over him and stared down; no sign of pleasure nor happiness. He cursed your name as he tried to stand up from the pile of shards but your foot sent him flying down again. It crushed his lower stomach, his breathing becoming unhinged and erratic. Extending weight onto your foot, his hands wrapped around your ankle, begging for you to get off.
“Fuckin’ get off!” He pled repeatedly.
Of course, it didn’t convince you. Your foot dug into his torso until he was threatening to lose his ability to breathe. Waiting for the moment Trevor’s eyes would portray the seconds left of his near-death experience, you released the pressure, and he frantically crawled to his knees, wailing for some air. He mercilessly wailed, believing he was on the road to death by your strangulation.
“Why are you crying?” You degraded, grabbing his hair and forcing his knees to kneel against the glassy carpet.
Trevor panted. His head being forced to look up, staring directly towards your thighs. He didn’t say anything but whined when you’d occasionally tug his hair, trying to pressure some rise out of him.
“C’mon… You’re feeling shameful now, aren’t you?”
He shook his head, still being stubborn.
“You like being on your hands and knees, Trevor?”
He whined again.
“Why don’t you get the fuck up?” You smirked.
“I hate you,” He finally mewled, “I’ll kill you!”
“Get the fuck up then.”
Trevor struggled, trying to use his weak arms but you only pushed him back down with a laugh.
“[y/n]!” He snapped.
“What?”
Your fingers tickled his scalp, falling down his back, reaching the hem of his trousers as he remained on his all fours, having a hard time keeping balance due to the amount of scratches and impaled glass in his skin. Nonetheless, your fingers tickled him. Trevor felt his trousers being pulled down again, and he dropped his head, whispering profound insults that definitely included the words “evil”, “witch”, and “bitch.” But you didn’t care. You waited until his ass was exposed and his cock dangling between his legs. He was shaky, unsure of what you’re about to do. He wanted to stand up, but your grip on him only tightened and his knees were too weak. Did he beg you to stop? No. So you only made it harder for him.
Very hard.
“Fuck… The fuck you doing to me?” Trevor murmured in pain.
“If you wanna ruin my home, you can be ruined with it.” You said before kicking your shoe against his exposed cock, making him jump and cry out in agony.
“FUCK!”
“You like that?” His whole arousal was being beaten with your shoe again, the repetitive kicks destructing Trevor’s last ounce of his aggression.
“FUCK – I HATE YOU! – “ He’d cry, tears oozing down his red cheeks as you kicked him from behind again.
“You deserve so much more hate,” You huffed – his cock and balls being left swollen and bruised, “I’m giving you the bare minimum of it. You should thank me, Trevor.”
It ended with his face crazing against the glass-scattered floor, his cheek embedding deep wounds as he wails from the pain of his genitals being physically abused. He attempted to cover his cock but you slapped his hands away, kicking him one last time before giving him a minor break.
He collapsed, body sprawled out.
The glass was ignored now. You stepped over him, your shadow overcasting the menacing danger of your touch. Trevor, with his eyes closed, felt the shade and spoke through his condition, his voice crackled and fable – like an emotional child begging for some hugs after a traumatic nightmare.
“I’m not thanking… I’m not! Not thanking – you! Kick me again, I fuckin’ dare you! I’m never – FUCK!” You obeyed his request and pressed the soul of your shore against his manhood, crushing until it went numb.
“You never give up, baby…”
He whimpered with is nose stuffed in the carpet floor.
“Wish you’d last this long in bed.” You ended.
Trevor’s head jerked up at the mention of you judging his struggle to hold. He gritted his teeth and aimed to spit, unsuccessfully watching the saliva reach barely half way as you just watched with a frown. A piece of clammy drool fell from his lips, dropping onto the floor, along with his tears.
“And what was that for, huh?”
“Fuck you.”
“Sensitive topic?”
“FUCK YOU!”
You grabbed his waist and forced him to his knees again. Trevor tried to resist but fell into your hands, murmuring complaints about the pain. He winced, trying to face you. But yet again, he failed. And he was beyond angered at his power being taken away.
“This is not FUCKIN’ funny, baby,” He whinged, “I hate you so much sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” You grinned.
“Mm, shut the fuck up…”
“C’mon. Admit it.”
“I said; shut the fuck up!”
“Fucking man up, Trevor. You’re on the floor with your cock fucked and your knees asleep – what are you gonna do? Encourage me to enjoy this more?” You caressed the back of his neck.
“Keep on going…” He whispered, almost quiet enough for you to miss.
“Sorry?”
“Keep going.”
A small smirk twitched and you crouched down, Trevor hesitantly putting his chin on your knee as he looked at you with an angry but lustful stare. He tried to lean closer, wanting a kiss, but he was refused and grunted when you dropped his head onto the floor again. He hit the floor and cursed your name menacingly.
“Fuck you, baby! I want you!”
“You wanted this, Trev?”
“Shut the fuck up and kill me already! Just end my life, make me cry!” He protested with desperation.
“You’re gonna be a man and last long for me?”
He nodded his head, “I wanna last long for you.”
“And you’re going to apologise? – “
“[y/n]! Please, just help me already!” Trevor complained and returned to his knees and hands, his dick burning red.
You laughed and shook your head with a small grin. Now that he was vulnerable and eager for your touch, it made it easier to gain a reaction. Your knee pressed against his backside and you forced him up, his back grinding against your thigh. Trevor closed his eyes as he felt your arms wrap around him, the skin-contact trailing from his stomach, closer to his arousal. He twitched with excitement, his hair mangled and skin tattered with oozing blood.
“So good for me, baby.” You praised and hugged his cock with your cold hands, massaging the tip and roughly mishandling the length to ensure your power is still prominent.
His whole body shook at your touch and he groaned when you demanded him to keep his hands away. It took some courage to follow your authorities, but it was worth it when you began stroking him, caressing his sore skin.
“Yes…” Trevor breathed, “Yes… Yes, that’s right.”
“You wanna be rubbed like the pervert that you are?”
“I’m a fuckin’… God! Yes!”
“Tell me how bad you want it, Trevor.”
He struggled to speak, “I – I… Oh, fuck… M’yeah. C’mon… Fuckin’ faster! Now! – “ Then he paused, dread clogging his throat when you clenched his cock.
“You want to continue being a little fucker?” You hissed in his ear.
“No… No, ma,” Trevor felt it get tighter as he whimpered, “I’m your fucker… I’m your pervert, God!”
“Say my name.”
“[y/n]…”
“Prefer me being in charge, baby?” You giggled, not used to seeing him so submissive.
“I love being treated like a rape toy, mommy!” And he had lost the plot, so emerged in his attraction.
You rubbed him harder and faster, your lips pressing down his neck as he was moaning frantically. From the way he was so stiff and hot, it was clear he had been holding a semi for a long, long time. It made you smirk. Trevor was so pathetic. He made it harder for himself – just so he could feel some pleasure in the end.
“I’m gonna cum – “
“What did I say?” Your lips moved against his skin.
“I – “ Trevor rolled his eyes back and dramatically growled, his hips jerking and cock twitching.
“Don’t cum yet.”
He panted, “Fuck you… Fuck you… Fuck you, I love you!”
“Easy. Concentrate on me, baby.”
“All for you, ma. All for you!”
“You’re so hard, sugar.” You held his body weight so he was forced to deal with you edging him. Even though he was erratic and fierce, you managed to keep him in check and he remained huddled in your arms, his cock being molested by your hands.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum!” He sobbed.
“You’re such a slut, Trevor.”
“Ohhh… Fuuuck!” His words mingled for so long that it would crack. Then it went silent before his body spazzed, his dick delivering a huge load of cum that squirted onto the floor that was stained with damp tears, blood, glass.
He had silently cried through the orgasm. You looked at Trevor, his face scrunched and tongue hanging out like a dog. You had overstimulated him too much that climaxing had become a huge revolution, almost as though he transported through time.
“All good, baby?” You asked.
It took a few seconds before he nodded.
“You sore?”
He nodded again, chest heaving in and out.
“Good boy…” You kissed his cheek.
“You’re killing me,” Trevor airily slurred, “You almost killed me.”
“I know.”
“Fuck… Fuck! Fuck you… That was so hot…”
“You gonna clean up now?”
“[y/n]!” He whined tiredly, “You punished me enough, baby…”
You’d smirk, “Fine. You’ve proven how much of a baby you are. I wouldn’t want to cross the line and over exhaust you.”
“Fuck you.”
“And stop insulting me. Who’s house are you in?”
“…Yours.”
“So treat this place with respect, and me.” You warned.
Trevor gave you a playful glare before nodding, “Fuckin’ fine…”
“Now stand up. You reek.”
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bitethedevil · 4 months ago
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Writer game!
What recurring themes/topics in your writing do you have?
TW: Talk of Abuse and Trauma
Also: beware of spoilers if you haven't yet read Living with The Devil You Know and want to.
I think in general there’s a big theme of trauma and abusive and toxic behavior in my writing. This is also why I prefer writing Dark!Raphael. It’s almost hard not to include those subjects with him, which might be why I’m enjoying writing him so much. I’ve directed plays in the past, and for some reason the major theme in those plays have always ended up being trauma.
It’s an interesting concept to explore I think, and perhaps also, on a more personal note, because I find it therapeutic to explore it through art. Also, before I keep yapping, I also just want to say that there is no wrong way to experience trauma, and that the things I write about are mainly from my own perspective and things I have learned about myself through dealing with my past and by talking to others with similar experiences (Nothing to worry about at all btw, I am better than I have ever been. Therapy is a godsend).
I try to make it as realistic as I can. Such as small things and reactions from my characters that I don’t blatantly point out is due to trauma, but it makes sense in that context.
My best example is Tav in ‘Living with The Devil You Know’ (Spoilers). She’s grown up with a cruel father who beat her, and it’s hinted at that he also verbally abused her. Her trauma presents itself both mentally and physically in the form of the burn scars on her face that she had chosen to hide for years.
Ironically, it’s Raphael who reveals them, even though he is the same kind of man as her father was. She shows it to him without knowing if he accepts her for it or he simply does it to ‘pour salt in the wound’, so to speak. Tav also learns that just ignoring her scars of the past, metaphorically and literally, does not mean that they have gone away.
On the other hand, she also continues the cycle of abuse in a way. She’s cold, selfish and overly practical at times towards other people, because that is how she has learned to survive. She begins to see herself as evil instead of trying to understand where it is all coming from, which I think unfortunately is very realistic for many survivors of abuse. It’s much easier to simply demonize oneself than to start dealing with the past and explore where those survival mechanisms are coming from.
I also think their relationship is depressingly representative of a lot of abusive and toxic relationships. I think that very few people figure out immediately that ‘Oh shit. My partner is cruel and abusive towards me, and they are actually not a good person’. It’s more ‘Oh they did manipulate me that one time, and they did do that other horrible thing too, but other times they are really nice and loving! They’re human too and makes mistakes!”.
Tav rationalizes the shit out of everything that man does A LOT. I love writing characters like that. With Tav specifically, her tragic flaw is that she has been abused in the past. She knows how it works. She is aware of what’s going on. And still: a part of her thinks she deserves it, because she sees herself as ‘evil’ too.
(Spoilerspoilerspoiler if you haven’t read the latest chapter. Though it is pretty obvious that it would happen eventually) Even after she is freed, as she has longed for, she goes right back to him, though she knows exactly what kind of person he is. Because the depressing truth about a lot of untreated trauma is that abuse and evil starts feeling safer and more like home, than a functional relationship ever could, because such a relationship is unknown.
I find Raphael interesting for many reasons, but the themes of abuse and toxicity are so interesting for me to work with when it comes to him, because it just makes sense. An abusive relationship with an abusive person on paper sounds horrible and one might not understand how those things even happen. Like why would a person ever “”accept”” being abused?
But then you see someone like Raphael, who we all know is an evil little shit, and we still love him. We still want to be with him, and we are still attracted to him. He has his redeeming qualities and it’s very possible that he has been through some shit himself, sure, but that’s the point: such is the case with most abusers. They don’t appear as monsters or devils (though Raphael quite literally does), they appear as nuanced human beings. Doesn’t make them less abusive or dangerous though.
I like writing about conflicted people who does things against their best interests, because they have been somehow wired or indirectly forced to do so. I like making my characters take decisions that are objectively ‘stupid’, but still make myself (and the reader, hopefully) think about if I really would have done much differently given the same circumstances?
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.
(And thank you so much for letting me participate and giving the opportunity to yap about my writing <3<3)
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vclvetfleur · 1 year ago
Text
Obedient Chapter 17
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Roman Roy x fem!reader
Summary: During the Yacht trip, Kendall was announced as taking the blame for the scandal. And with that, Roman is now named COO. But Kendall had other things in mind, causing another rift in the family and causing more and more tension. You see through Kendall's PR stunt of being the good guy, but Jess disagrees with you.
Based off of S3 E2 Sucession
Tw: Child abuse, verbal, physical and emotional, hints about cSA, mentions of sexual abuse , mention of ED
If it is triggering, PLEASE SKIP THE TIME JUMP
WC: 6.5K
Notes: Pls take the tw into consideration. It is a dark story and I do not want to be responsible for any hard issues that people might deal with after reading. Take care of yourselves. I love you.
Chapter 17: Julius Ceasar
Kendall sent you a text, wondering if you were willing to join or not. You left him on read.
You agreed with everything he said, but a part of you didn’t think he was genuine. Some part of you believed it was just to get back at his father. It had to be. You also couldn’t leave your job. You could not afford to. You were finally comfortable. And Roman would be crushed. Also, where did you and Roman stand now? You had no clue. You didn’t want to continue this, but you couldn’t help yourself. If he held you and kissed you, you’d kiss him back. But you told yourself you wouldn’t. You didn’t think you would, but Roman had you wrapped around his fingers. He had complete control of your autonomy.
You always thought you needed to be there for Roman. It wasn’t a good time to leave him. At least not now. But it was never a good time to leave or let Roman be just… still. Something was constantly happening that you needed to come to rescue to comfort.
You laid back in your seat, reading a new book you had picked up. Shiv got a call from Tom, suspiciously going away. You looked at Roman, confused. He shrugged, watching Shiv as she fidgeted trying to listen to the news. He leaned over to Gerri for confirmation of what Shiv was talking about. It was exactly what Roman feared. Now that Kendall fucked this up, they had to reconsider COO.
He just pestered Shiv trying to get the information out. But Gerri had gotten the news already. “They’re live picking the new CEO” Roman exposed. You put your book down, looking over. “Woah-woah-what? That’s such bullshit. You already got-“ You tried to interject. Gerri gave you a look, hoping you’d drop it. You weren’t well-versed in this world. Of course, Logan would pull on his decision. She didn’t need you breaking Roman’s hopes even more. She wanted Roman to be CEO just as badly as you. She basically prepped him for it. She knew how much you cared about him, which warmed her heart, but she didn’t see this arguing and fighting for Roman doing anything for Roman. At least not with Logan.
Roman and Shiv went back and forth. They sent snarky remarks to one another. You sighed and went onto your phone, trying to stay out of this argument. “I mean 3 out of the 4 of us agree I should be CEO, so if we make a bet, I could win a lot of money right now.” Roman tried to continue to press onto Shiv’s nerves.
“Yeah- one is your pretend mommy and the other one jerks you off from time to time.” Shiv insulted not only Roman but you. You didn’t make eye contact, embarrassed that now people knew you and Roman were intimate and somewhat involved. It was just a small secret that now everyone seemed to be in the know about. “Oh wait- I’m sorry was that private? Were we not supposed to know you shoved your cock in your assistant's mouth?” Shiv continued to get at Roman.
“Don’t you have an actor to blow so your husband could watch?” Roman fired back at Shiv.
“I don’t know why you both know so much about each other's sex life.” You tried to chime in.
“It’s not like Roman even has one. Most of the people he’s been with has told every-“ Shiv tried to continue to insult Roman before Roman interrupted and loudly mocked her,  making her voice sound obnoxious. “Welcome to my fucking world now.” Gerri whispered to you, sensing your discomfort. She had known about you and Roman for a bit now. But she saw how much you took care of Roman. She appreciated it. He needed someone like you.
Roman decided to go call Logan about the position and try to save his own ass. You watched the door intensely, worried about what it could end to. You knew he could be ready, but he didn’t think he was. He was also a nervous wreck and when he was nervous, he talked too much. And he was in the bathroom for too long. At least that’s what you thought. Maybe it was your anxiety making it seem even longer than it was. Roman left the bathroom, trying to remain bland in front of Shiv to make her think he did something worthy. The plane finally landed after a while of Roman and Shiv insulting and making fun of one of the other and trying to sabotage the other one. Your head was killing you with all the bantering. You couldn’t stand it. You needed an aspirin after this flight. But it only got worse when Shiv picked up a call from Logan. But Shiv, of course, took it to fuck with Roman.
“Roman shut up…” You mumbled to him as he tried to childishly mock her for the fifth time on this flight. You just dragged him into the car, trying to get you both somewhere calm enough, somewhere away from all this anxiety. Before you got in the car, Gerri pulled you to the side. “Hey- so if this ends up going public…” Gerri started. You shook your head no, trying to deny your relationship with Roman. “Uh- no-no. That’s not-“ You tried to deny. “Roman told me a while ago…” She dropped. Your lips turned into a straight line, looking around. You rubbed your forehead, looking back at her. “Uh- we broke up a bit ago. And uh- it’s probably not gonna… y’know…” You tried to explain to her.
“Oh well if that little night you spent in his room wasn’t much, if it was, just keep this under until the scandal is over.” She directed you. You nodded, feeling her hand pat down your shoulder. You felt embarrassed, knowing everyone saw. It was completely out. Even Logan had seen you sneak out. How humiliating. You and Roman drove to a hotel, waiting for the council to soon come. It seemed redundant, to have updates being sent your way on what the next move would be for Roman. You frantically answered emails and texts for Roman. Roman seemed oddly calm. He walked around, eating bits of the meal that was sent up to the room. Gerri made sure to check to see if his reputation was truly clean though. She had been searching everywhere to see if announcing Roman would be a bad idea.
You just kept Roman updated, but he dodged everything. “Roman, take this shit seriously. For once.” You begged. “Oh, come on… it’s just me and you in a room, alone…” He tried to ease you in. “Yeah, we’re always in a room. Alone.” You rolled your eyes.
“Yeah, but it’s different.” He tried to set a certain mood. He kept dropping obvious innuendos, but you were too focused on what the next big thing would happen. You weren’t ready to comfort a grown man for not being able to fuck you.
“Yeah- different 'cause you actually wanna fuck.” You bullied him. You got a text from Gerri. She had just been told who the next CEO would be. Gerri was. “Oh fuck…” You whispered. You looked at Roman, his face finally serious as he anticipated your response. “Uh- Rome- I’m really fucking sorry, but it’s- it’s uh- it’s Gerri. Gerri’s CEO.” You broke the news to him. “You’re lying.” He denied. You shook your head and showed him the texts. He read them, hoping he was also misreading something. But it was right there.
‘Shiv blew it with Lisa. Logan told me it’s me’
Your heart broke for Roman. You sighed, wrapping your arms around him to only be shoved off of him lightly. He didn’t want to be touched. He just sat at the arm of the couch, looking away as he indulged in his own negative thoughts.
“Fucking-Fuck- I basically gave her that. I told dad it should be her.” He revealed to you. Your eyes grew. He shook his head, trying to save himself. “No- I said it should be me, but if It wasn’t it should be her, but uh- I guess it was never me… Uh- fuck hold up. Let me call Shiv. I wanna break the news to her.” He grinned, grabbing his phone before running off to the bedroom that was attached to the rest of the hotel room. He lay on the bed, calling up Shiv.
You watched Roman, trying to bully Shiv to hide his own hurt and his own insecurities. He rather make fun of Shiv than deal with the fact he also had been passed up for the position. He laid the phone down, staring at the ceiling.
You got up from the couch and walked over to the bedroom. You laid your shoulder and head on the door frame, watching him. He had his hands over his chest as he stared at the ceiling fan. “You alright, Rome?” You wondered.
“Why the fuck do you care?” He laughed, thinking you’d take it as a joke if he laughed off the insecurity at you. It felt less threatening to him.
“Cause I give a fuck about you. That’s why.” You defended. He looked over at you, raising his eyebrows as if to tell you he didn’t think you actually gave a fuck before looking up again at the ceiling. “Rome- come on. Don’t be a fucking baby now.” You whined, coming over to the bed. You sat down next to him, your legs curled up on his side. You leaned forward, looking down at him. You were invading his peripheral. “I, surprisingly, still give a fuck. Even if you’re the most annoying person I have ever encountered. But I do think, you’re also one of the smartest, funniest, most creative, and unique individuals I have ever met.” You tried to boost his ego.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make a great CEO, does it?” He tried to find a way to hurt his own feelings. To justify, even though some of his qualities were good, he had others that made him bad, along with his good traits making him even worse since they weren’t CEO traits.
“Those are all traits that make a great CEO. Steve Jobs was a fucking weirdo freak, but he was amazing. CEOs don’t become CEOs by not being creative and being fucking normal.” You tried to encourage him. You reached down to hold his hand as he kept his hands clamped across his chest. He loosened his grip on his hands, holding yours. “Why do you believe in me so much?” He genuinely wondered. He finally removed his gaze from the ceiling to you. He wanted to see if you’d lie to him.
“Cause- I don’t know. I just do. I think you’re ready Roman… I think you’re just as qualified as Kendall. You’re just- you’re all the good qualities of both your siblings.” You admit to him. “You’re charming like Shiv, but you have experience like Kendall. And then you have your weirdo freak qualities that make other younger sleaze ball CEO’s comfortable around.” You admit. His eyes softened his lip pouting. He genuinely felt so much love being with you.
“Can you just- can we- can we go back? But more normal?” He asked you one more question, but you did not comprehend anything he was actually saying to you.  “What do you mean?” You asked. He scoffed, not believing that you had no idea what he had meant.
“Oh, fuck off- you know… just… I want to be fucking normal. Like a normal fucking-“ He tried to explain. You finally understood. This was Roman’s way of asking you to take him back and actually put a label on whatever this was that you both had. You sighed, unsure of what you wanted. You looked off, making Roman feel insecure about even asking you. “Yeah- no. It was fucking stupid.” He tried to insult his attempt and throw it out. “No this is perfect. You, hating me and occasionally sucking my dick is great.”
You rubbed your face, not wanting to deal with this confrontation. “Rome- I care- I do, but this is just… it’s not normal. I mean nothing about us screams consensual. You’re my boss who’s in his mid-30s and I’m a fresh out of college assistant. What do you think people are gonna say? Especially now. Plus- Rome, you need to learn boundaries and understand that-“ You tried to explain but Roman mocked your voice and didn’t bother to even listen.
“You’re more obsessed about how people view you than me.” He laughed. “It’s pathetic. It’s like you think people actually give a fuck about celebrity assistants. Wait- name me one celebrity assistant. Come on.” He pressured you. He was just insulting you because you brought out the actual truth of what this was, and he wasn’t going to let his ego be bruised any further than it already had been.
“This is another reason, Roman. This is exactly why I hate you sometimes. You’re a spoiled fucking pervert who gets away with shit because you play the damaged victim.” You began to insult him. “You could fix all your issues if you actually went to fucking therapy rather than cum in your own hand. Oh wait- sorry I forgot you can’t even look at your own cock.” You continued. “Oh, and you’re so perfect. Miss. Orphan.” He fired. He hadn’t known much about your family other than you never spoke about them. You never brought up memories of them. You did speak about a lot of other things though. Roman just put two and two together. “What’s the story there, huh? Did they just put you up or did they just not love you?” He continued, despite seeing your eyes wield up with tears. Your bottom lip quivered as you tried to hold back everything from sobbing. “Oh- I found it. They just didn’t love you. That’s it. Well, stop pushing that fucking narrative on me.” He insisted.
You grabbed a pillow before repeatedly hitting him. You didn’t want to genuinely hurt him, and you couldn’t just punch him, so this was the next best thing. Roman shouted as the fast and hard blows actually hurt him a bit. He grabbed your wrists to stop you as you finally cried and let out all the anger you had built up. “YOU. FUCKING. ASSHOLE!!” You shouted as he took the pillow away. He pinned you against the bed, holding your wrists to the bed. You kicked and tried to break free from him before spitting in his face. You let anger-induced tears stream down your face as you kept screaming at him. “You have no fucking right! You have no fucking right!” You screamed like a child. You continued before you got too tired to fight him. You laid there, completely exhausted, too tired to even run off. You curled up on the edge of the bed. “You’re a fucking asshole…” You whispered.
“So, I was right…” Roman tried to guess. You looked at him, shaking your head at how he had the audacity to continue to argue with you over this. You sat up, giving him what could only be compared to a death stare.
“Yea- there. You got it Rome. Yup. Mommy and Daddy didn’t love me, so I started dating my sexually inept boss.” You tried to hurt his feelings. He genuinely wanted to know what had happened between you and your parents though. He just stared, his eyes soft and his head low. He wanted to listen. You relented before giving in. “My parents weren’t there. And when they were they picked on me. A lot. Just like Logan does to you. If I got a bad grade, I was a fucking loser, dumbass, but if I got a good grade, I was a showoff, I wanted credit for nothing, I was an attention seeker. And then- something happened, and they called me a liar. So, it kept happening. Then I was a whore. And I asked for it. A 9-year-old. So, yea- I don’t have parents. And don’t even get me started at puberty. Even before. I ate too much. I spent too much money on food. I was a burden. I drained everything from them. And when I developed, I was a pig. I was ugly. I was a whore. I was a bitch. Everything was, even more, my fault.” You let yourself cry. “You know- I didn’t become vegan for animal reasons. I did it so my parents wouldn’t have to cook or buy me food anymore. So, they’d stop bullying me about food or eating.” You laughed as a reaction to how stupid it was. You wiped your face. “It made me lose enough weight that instead of being called fat, I’d be too skinny. But once they thought it boosted my ego, I was fat again.” You continued to laugh at how ridiculous the abuse was. Roman’s face dropped, and he felt guilty about attacking you based on your parents. If he knew, he would’ve maybe held back. Maybe. “Can I hug you?” He asked, watching as you held yourself. You needed comforting. You nodded, feeling Roman bring you in close to him. You just hid in his shoulder, not wanting to cry too much.
“Uh-I’m really fucking sorry- I just- I assumed-…” he tried to reason with you. You nodded, sniffling. “I know Roman… I know…” You whispered. You knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He just didn’t know how deeply your parents were abusive. Maybe they just weren’t as present or maybe they weren’t the best. But you had never given him any hints to show him it was this bad. “Logan blamed me too… for what… just, one of his friends.” Roman revealed to you. You pulled away, looking at him nearly about to sob even harder. You never cared about your own abuse, but knowing someone you knew had felt the same thing you did always killed you. “Oh, fuck off, don’t look at me like a run-over fucking puppy.” He tried to redirect your emotions. You tried to but couldn’t help it. Roman didn’t want to feel more shame on his abuse, putting your head back. He didn’t want to see the pity on your face. As if he was that fucked up and damaged.
“I’m sorry.” You whined as you tried to hide your emotions. You would’ve hated this too. “I just- I don’t like people knowing- just- you and Jess are the only ones who know.” You tried to confide in him. “Yeah- well- my whole family knows… And Gerri… And well one or two of Dad’s friends…” He admits. His dad’s friends only knew because well, they were also sick perverts who had probably thought it was okay to brag.
“I’m sorry for making fun of your sexual- fucking- you know…” You tried to acknowledge. “Yeah- I wish I knew before saying your mom and dad don’t love you.” Roman did his best to return an apology to you. You laughed at his attempt. “I- I just… I-“ You wanted to gather your thoughts, but they were so scattered.
Gerri called Roman, interrupting your sentence. You looked down before answering the call for him. He grabbed the phone and talked to her. He had to be down at the office. Now.
He grabbed his coat, looking at you, wondering if you were gonna tag along. You eventually left the bed and followed him. But you stayed in the car while Roman went running his errands and did what Logan asked of him. You were in a trance. You had confessed everything to Roman. Not many details, but enough. You didn’t ever tell people. You found it too embarrassing. All you could remember is the only things you had of your parents.
(TW: INTENSE CHILD ABUSE, VERBAL, MENTAL AND PHYSICAL)
-15 years ago-
Your mom lay on the couch, cigarette in hand, and watching the television. Your dad had been gone for what seemed like months. Mom always got sad when Dad left this long. You never understood why he was always gone. It seemed off. But it was probably work. You saw someone's dad come in for career day and say he had business trips.
But you weren’t sure what your dad did. Just that he had something. Mom ignored you more when he wasn’t home. She looked at you very rarely when Dad was gone. But when she did, it felt like she was mad at you.
You hadn’t had lunch since Friday at school. It was 4 p.m. now. On a Sunday. You probably had some snacks in the pantry. But there weren’t any left anymore. You ate everything that you could possibly make yourself.
“Mommy…” You whispered, scared you’d wake her up. She hadn’t responded. You quietly walked over to see if she had been awake. Her eyes were shut with a lit cigarette in her hand. You walked closer, grabbing the cigarette from her. You didn’t want another accident. You pulled the cigarette off her fingers gently before turning around to put it out before hearing a loud snarl coming from behind you. Fear immediately came over you.
“Are you fucking shitting me? Who the fuck do you think you are?” She yelled, grabbing your little arm, and roughly pulling you to her. “What the fuck are you doing with this? Are you trying to steal this from me? Huh?” She interrogated you before you could even answer. She only saw one way of teaching you by taking her cigarettes.
You didn’t know why she was so upset. What did you do? She never explained. She just got mad.
Before you knew it, you felt an intense burning on your arm. You cried and tried to pull away.
All you wanted was to ask for a sandwich.
But the more you cried, the worse the punishment got and the madder she got. You learned that early on.
-6 months later-
Dad finally came home after doing god knows what. The first night he came home, Mom and Dad fought all day and screamed. You barely got any sleep. You had done everything to block the noise, but it wouldn’t stop. But then after days of fighting, turned into days of them being silent and laughing. Dad bought some stuff to make Mom happy. They didn’t pay attention to you when they were like that, depending on what Dad bought Mom. But whatever it was this time, they barely acknowledged your existence. It was better this way. You weren’t their main target.
It was Christmas time, and the school had a fair. There were vendors to buy gifts for yourself or your family. The thing is your family didn’t celebrate Christmas. But to keep a front, sent you off with $10. How could they be so bad if they gave their kids money? Right? Well, you wandered the fair, excited and cheerful. You spent what seemed like hours trying to pick the perfect gift. You settled on a stuffed animal of your favorite toy. The man asked who it was for before wrapping it. “Myself.” You smiled. You were so excited to go home and play with it.
You got home, and your mom immediately stopped and asked what you got her and your dad. You went silent. “I got myself…” You mumbled. “Yourself? God- you’re so fucking selfish. We taught you better than this. We give you fucking everything. We had nothing when we were your age. I had to share a room with my sisters when I was a kid. And you have your own room, toys, clothes, ps2. And you’re too greedy to buy something small for us? Your father slaves all day. Fucking Christ- wait for dad to come home. Get the fuck to your room.” Your mom berated. You ran to your room, hiding your new toy. You couldn’t afford to get it taken. But once Dad came over, it was pretty much done. You shut your brain off and tried to not cry. Crying made everything worse.
And worst of all, he found the toy. And he ripped it up in front of you. If he couldn’t have something nice, you shouldn’t either.
-2 weeks later-
You had spent the night in your room, playing with your baby doll. You rocked it back and forth and fed it. You were more attached to baby dolls than barbies. You liked to take care of things rather than live through dolls. Suddenly the lights shut off. Fear hit you. You ran out of the room, crying and screaming. You looked for your parents and saw your dad over the fuse box. He had purposely shut the lights. All he did was laugh at you as you wept. You wanted a hug but only got laughter in return. Laughter that was not directed with you, but towards you.
You couldn’t trust them to protect you.
(start here if you wanna skip the TW)
-Present-
You sat there, wiping a tear that ran down your face. Roman had gotten back into the car after being gone for a while to see you curled up, holding yourself. He could sense how upset you were. “Fuck- did I accidentally fucking- I don’t know did I fucking send out an offensive tweet? What’s wrong?” He asked you.
You shook your head, wiping your face quickly. You painfully smile over at him.
“You look like a fucking serial killer. What the fuck is wrong?” He asked. You just shook your head and grabbed a water bottle that was in the car. You took a sip before taking a breath to answer him. “Uhhh- I’ve never told anyone other than Jess about my parents… Just… it’s a lot of old memories…” Your voice croaked. His lips curled into a partial frown, unsure how to fix this. “Uhm- well if it’s- it’s going to make any difference… You did watch Logan knock a tooth out of my mouth. So, call it even.” He shrugged. It was true. He hadn’t witnessed it. But he definitely knew too much about you that you weren’t willing to be seen.  “Also cheer up, we’re seeing your fucking best friend and my coked-out brother.” He thought it would cheer you up in the slightest. It did. You could find comfort in Jess.
“Thank you…” You whispered, laying your head onto his shoulder. You slipped your hand onto his, intertwining your fingers together. Roman hid a smile, acting nonchalant.
“For what? I’m not doing it for you.” He wasn’t sure about what you were thanking him for.
“Shut the fuck up. You- Thank you for not making my parent thing… like a big deal…” You tried to explain, but he ignored it. It was exactly what you wanted. The car stopped at Kendall’s ex-wife’s apartment, and you had already texted Jess you were both on your way. He helped you out of the car, making sure you didn’t trip on the corner of the street or something. You walked in the lobby and waited for an okay to go up the elevator.
Jess got the okay to let you both up. You went up the elevator with him before being met by Jess. She hugged you immediately. “Hey, fucking crazy night…” She whispered, hoping Roman didn’t hear. “I know… what fucking crazies…” You mumbled before being led to the living room with Roman and Jess. Roman walked through, anticipating to bully Kendall before finding Shiv curled up on the couch.
“Okay, well, looky looky here.” He already began his bullying. Shiv just asked how Logan was, but you had left the room to be with Jess.
“Uh- Jess- I- Uh- I fucked up… I told Rome… about Angela and Mick…” You confronted her. You rarely called your parents by ‘mom’ or ‘dad’. They were just people you knew as long as you were concerned. Her eyes widened and she was completely speechless. “Jesus…you’re fucking in love with him or something…” She couldn’t believe it. “Why?” She asked.
“Uh- he made a comment. So, I cried and told him. Not details. But just- y’know. The basic knowledge…” You tried not to delve too deep into it. You were worried it would end in you crying in Rava’s kitchen. “I genuinely don’t know… I think he gets it…” You rationalized it.
“How are you feeling?” She asked, putting her hand over yours. Your bottom lip pouted, but Jess warned you not to cry. “Shush. Come on. Don’t do all that. You have me. And my mom. And my dad. And brothers. Come on. Don’t do that.” She giggled, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “Now let’s eavesdrop.” She dragged you, pretending to be working as she sat at the corner table and watched the sibling’s banter.
Roman treated Shiv like a war criminal, under investigation as if he was trying to uncover the biggest secret in history. He couldn’t stop pushing and bringing out stupid metaphors. “This is what you’re seriously into?” Jess teased you. You giggled, rolling your eyes. “Tell me more about that guy with the rat tail from a year ago again.” You reminded her of a god-awful man she had hooked up with one too many times.
“Oh, fuck off. Richie wasn’t… fuck yea, okay that was disgusting…” She tried to keep her laughter low enough.
Once Kendall came in, you and Jess watched intensely. This was going to be so much more interesting.
“Oh, here he comes, the attention whore.” Roman insulted him to the room. Kendall treated it like a normal conversation, but Roman held such a giant grudge. You didn’t blame him. Because of Kendall, Roman was completely humiliated. Given a position to be given away simply because his brother wanted to fuck with their dad. “I did bring you those Danish pastries though. They’re on the table.” Roman ended his rant by trying to prove to Kendall his shit talking about his little brother having no business being public. Kendall thanked him. “It was y/n’s idea.” He pushed the credit to you. It wasn’t. You told him not to bother. But he did anyway. But the space wasn’t private. The siblings moved off, leaving you and Jess. Jess and you just stood by the door, letting people go in if they were permitted to by Kendall. You both sat on the stairs, looking over the view of the apartment.
“This is like… dude… just- what the fuck…” You sighed, laying your head on the metal railing. “I know… But Kendall has a point…” Jess revealed. You pulled away, looking at her with a scrunched-up eyebrow, and your lips moved into disgust.
“Oh please. He doesn’t mean any of that shit. He just hates Logan. And is mad he’s not CEO. He doesn’t care about rape victims.” You scoffed. Jess looked off, not wanting to argue with you. But she didn’t think you were right about Kendall’s intentions. I mean Kendall had a daughter. He had a little sister. He was very liberal compared to his dad and Roman. Maybe not as much as Shiv, but Kendall made a point to stay up to date. “If you think Kendall actually cares about rape victims it’s like saying Bill Cosby doesn’t have pills in his drawer.” You compared. “Oh, and Roman is such a poster child for stopping oppression.” She insulted. She looked up at you, waiting for your rebuttal. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to argue either.
“Don’t do that shit…” You mumbled, playing with the necklaces that dangled down your neck. “Do what? You started it with Ken.” She stated.
“Yeah- but me insulting Ken and you insulting Roman are different.” You tried to pointed out.
“Not really… I mean, you’re saying Ken is faking because of Logan. And not cause he’s surrounded by women. I mean, he’s standing up for those women. For victims. You, especially, should be glad someone is speaking out.” She began to rant, letting one thought she didn’t mean to let split, go through.
You stayed quiet, staring at her, hurt. “Yeah- someone like me… my bad…” You whispered. “You know Roman is like me too… so yeah, where was Kendall then?” you questioned her. You probably should’ve kept that to yourself, but it was too late. “You know that’s not- Look- just- I don’t think Ken is doing this for no reason. I think just- he’s trying to right his wrongs maybe.” She tried to suggest, but you weren’t going to budge. This was a lot to just say the victims need to be taken seriously. He was just smearing his family online honestly rather than talking about victims.
Roman left the room, annoyed slamming the door after a comment was made against him by Shiv about his ability to actually have sex rather than expose himself. “Fucking bitch.” He mumbled. You turned your head hearing Kendall calling out and Shiv laughing at him. You got up, quickly and ran to his side. “Hey- hey, you okay?” You asked.
“Yeah- fucking grant. My sister’s a cunt and your boss is a fucking deadbeat who’s trying to make daddy love him.” He said to Jess. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. Connor soon followed Roman as well trying to see if he was okay.
“Rome- hey, relax. She’s just- she’s dealing with her own shit and thinks it funny to make fun of you…” Connor tried to resolve this without being on Shiv’s side. “Yeah- no. She hates her husband and takes it out on us. Perfectly fine. The wicked fucking bitch of the east thinks she’s funny.” He continued to insult Shiv, despite not being here. “What’d she say?” You asked. Roman stopped any talk about it being leaked. He was too embarrassed. He especially didn’t need Jess hearing.
“Alright. Come on, it’s been a long night. She’s just…” Connor tried to convince Roman to go back in. “No- no. Fuck her.” He refused, but after you and Connor settled him down, he felt ready enough to confront Shiv again. All it took was you to boost his ego a bit.
“Don’t let her get to you… Just… uh- go ahead…” You pushed him before making him go back in.
“So, you are in love with him…” Jess whispered. You blew out air, looking up. You looked over at her, shrugging.
“Probably…” You admit to yourself. “I guess I d-“ You said before watching Kendall rush out of the room. What the fuck was going on in that room? They all left the room and waited for Kendall to come back up. You talked to Roman about your plans with him after you left Rava’s. You both needed a break. “Rome- you alright?” You checked in once more. He nodded, just avoiding Shiv. But Shiv tried to find everyone’s viewpoint before making her own. You watched carefully, hoping she doesn’t upset Roman too harshly. Shiv proposed they go against Logan and take down Logan. Roman didn’t want to, but sooner became interested in the idea. Connor sat back with you and Jess, eating the Danish pastries Roman had bought Kendall. “So how long have you and Roman been a thing?” He asked you. You and Jess looked at each other, before you answered.
“Uhh- it’s hard to say… uhhh- maybe like- 3…3 or 4 months. No, yeah. Maybe 4 months. 3.” You weren’t sure. You both were always on and off so it was hard to understand when you were ever on or off. You weren’t sure if you both were on or off right now. Thank god Roman saved you from the conversation, bringing Connor into their debate. But Kendall finally arrived. All the talk about ‘killing’ dad hurt Roman. It was evident. He didn’t want to admit Logan was as bad as everyone was saying. He wanted to think Logan was better than he was. Kendall made a great point, separating everyone into divisions of leadership, but you were right. This whole thing had a motive. Kendall wanted to be in charge.
“Oh- what was that about Ken caring about victims?” You whispered to Jess. She remained quiet. No one came to an agreement and went to consult whoever they could consult to before regrouping.
Jess got up, answered another house call, and saw a box of donuts being delivered. She looked confused, setting them down. “This has to be some kind of trauma thing. Right?” You asked her as the siblings stared at the box, scared and hypothesized.
“This is dark…” She whispered. Connor inspected and sniffed the donuts, but the kids were debating if it was tampered with.
Kendall thankfully cut the conversation short and tried to keep the others in line. But in result, treating Connor as if he were a child, sent Connor away and forced Connor to decline. Kendall’s ego was too big to let his siblings shine. Or anyone else for that matter.
“Fine. You’re irrelevant.” He insulted Connor, repeating hurtful words as Connor pleaded. “Ken, shut the fuck up. Grow up.” You couldn’t watch Kendall emotionally abuse Connor.
“Roman, control your little yap dog.” He wouldn’t even acknowledge you. “Are you fucking kidding me? Just cause I’m telling yo-“ You tried to reason, but Kendall insulted you once more. “Just because my baby brother wiggles his dick in your face doesn’t mean you have any room to speak.” Kendall struck you with an insensitive comment.
“Woah- Ken…” Jess tried to intervene.
“Okay- fuck you. Don’t do that shit.” Roman defended. “Who’s house are we in? Oh yea- the one who doesn’t love you anymore.” He tried to hurt Kendall back. “Pass. Fuck you dude.”
“Oh what? Because I insulted your personal stripper?” He tried to reason with him. “Okay Ken, fuck you. Shove it up your fucking dick hole. Come on.” You snapped. But Kendall just went on and on. It just made you uncomfortable. “Roman... Come on. Fuck this. I’m not dealing with a fucking dude who knows his dealer’s number rather than his kids' birthdays. Fucking dead-beat.” You insulted once more before leaving with Roman following behind.
You, Shiv, and Roman sat in a car, Roman reporting to Logan about everything that had gone down. You laid your head on the window, trying to find a moment of peace.  
Notes: Please do self-care if you need it. These are some personal experiences, yet dramatized, it is a part of me. Not necessarily the mother portion, but the daddy issues are strong :)
Chapter 18
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