#typing this from my shallow grave

[gunsatthaphan]

🔥🚬.

[riofann]

1. tempestuous

Authors Note: I am trying something new. I like this story line please give me your feedback. Only reposts and likes please don't steal my work. XOXO Rose

Tempestuous: characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion.

Sunday March 3, 2019 

This wasn't just some little miss understanding, this was sabotage at its core. It's why you found yourself in a random warehouse strapped to the chair bruised and bloody.

Rio was convinced you had been under cutting him for months, that the money you were washing for him was short for the past 4 months. He claimed you had been purposefully giving him fake money mixed with real money, which ended up with him having Mick point a gun to the back of your head as soon as you walked in your home. 

Any attempts to have him show proof that you were not were thwarted by Nick egging Rio on, unbeknownst to you.

You had mentally prepared for death mentally prayed that your mother and father, sisters would heal from this pain along with the rest of your family. You hear footsteps approaching your heart begins to race. You had memorized his gait along with Mick's, this was it. Your death day was here.

There's nothing said but you feel your legs being untied along with your hands, he made sure to leave the head covering on. 

“Get up!” Mick says grabbing your arm

You're too scared to move but a strong grip on your arm forcefully drags you forward.

You’re uneasy as you walk because you didn't know where you were going,  you couldn't see anything. Mick helps you step in the van. The drive is quiet, you sit with your hands on your lap, body shaking at any given moment you could be dead. All the thoughts rush through your mind, your bar, your family, your house, your future, it's giving you a migraine. When the van stops, your mouth dries up you could be on a bridge over water or a remote land with a shallow grave.  

When you step out Mick removes the head cover and your eyes take time to adjust. 

You stood at the park near your home. There's nothing said, you look behind you as Mick gets in the van and drives away. You take in the scene, you can't think of how happy you are to hear children laugh in the distance or the sound of people talking. 

It's all still a shock to you. You look around and find a bench. Slowly you walk towards it. You sit at the most remote corner, no shower for a week, you’re positive you looked like you were unhoused. 

Moments pass before you let the tears flow. The deep wound of betrayal that you felt wouldn't be healed by a simple apology hell you hadn't even received one.

After a while as the sun begins to set you stand up slowly. The walk to your house would normally be 20 minutes but since you are weak it will take longer,  and staying out at night wasn't your plan. 

With unsure steps you begin to walk home. You’re happy to not see any familiar faces at the park. You couldn’t handle any one asking you what happened or you would have implicated Rio. 

When you get home you type in the key code to  enter and find your home in disarray. You deduced that Rio was looking for the money he claimed you were shorting him on. 

You search for your phone and find it in the rubble dead. Your house doesn't feel safe, it feels surreal, like at any moment Rio could be sitting on the corner chair waiting for you with a gun in hand and Mick lurking right around the corner, ready to shoot.

After a little more searching you find the charger and plug it in.

When it turns on you see the many calls missed your workers, your mom, your dad, your sister, your cousin, unknown numbers 

You make the first call “Hello! Y/N?!” You hear your mom scream through the phone

“Hey mom” you greet

“Where the hell have you been?! We've been calling you for the past week and you just ignore us?! We were worried about you!” 

It's all too much you begin to cry she didn't know,  no one knew about what you were doing but Rio and his crew

You gather yourself “I'm sorry mommy”  you cut her off

She pauses, “What's wrong?” 

You take in a deep breath “I'm sorry I disappeared mom I won't do it again” 

“Do I need to come over?” she lived a few states away in Ohio

You panic “NO!...” you take a deep breath again “No! I just I needed time to myself I got stressed I won't do that again I promise” you master up a calm tone

She sighs “okay, but what happened? Did you get hurt?” 

“You know the bar and life I just got overwhelmed” you lie 

“Honey I'm your mother you call me when things get tough you don't just disappear!” we called the police!" She lectures. “I couldn't sleep! Y/N it felt like something wrong happened!” your stomach drops she wasn’t wrong 

“I'm sorry mom I really am I won't do it again” 

“Well I'm coming to see you next week”  

“Mom you don't...”

She cuts you off “Nope I'm coming, something is wrong I know my child!” 

You sniffed “okay” you looked at your shaking hands 

“Okay well let me call you back I gotta get in touch with the police and everyone else let them know you’re alright” 

“Okay mom”

“When I call you better pick up and don't go missing again”

“I promise I won't!” 

“I love you” 

“I love you too” 

You hung up and go through similar conversation with your sister and the manager of the bar 

When it all ends you drag yourself to the shower and take one of the longest showers you’ve ever taken, you couldn't help but sob the entire time. You scrubbed so hard a week with no shower in a dingy warehouse you felt so dirty. 

All trust had been destroyed so much for this “partnership”

You hope to be able to sleep but you can't. Your body is riddled with anxiety, with every sound you hear your  heartbeat spiked. You couldn’t even bring yourself to drink water or eat anything that's in the fridge. You just want to disappear, move to a small town in the middle of nowhere and figure things out. 

You received a text in the middle of the night 

Rio: Business as usual 

You had stared at it for hours 

Business as usual as if all that happened meant nothing. 

How could you get out of this? What could you do to free yourself from this and him? Maybe offer up the bar? But this is something you worked hard on, this bar was one of the top bars in Detroit you weren’t willing to give it up to him. You had to think about what life would look like outside of the bar and what did you want out of life? 

Slowly over the course of the week you clean up the house, you eat something here and there and you drink water when you remember. You’re not sure how you managed to clean up the house in the state it was left in, must have been adrenaline.  Even after your mother insisted something was wrong when she came to visit you, that Friday you  faked the funk. How could you tell her that you were deeply entrenched with a man who has a whole cartel like of criminals on his side? All the questions that would come from that. You would have to explain how Rio essentially twisted your arm to agree and how you stupidly didn't go to the police.

When you finally show up at the bar the following Monday  everyone teases about your disappearance and you play along but you have things to do, books to manipulate money to wash. You lock yourself in the office while you gather the money. You count over 10 times making sure it's right each time. You don’t trust the machine as it counts you run it through verify by hand run it through again verify it then set it aside. You added extra just for good measure because you didn’t trust yourself either. 

Wednesday March 13, 2019 

As you wait for him to show up at your usual pick up spot, you feel sick to your stomach, no more sitting down and waiting for him. All sense of security between you two had crumbled. A car pulls up and you grip the bag tightly. 

It's a strange face

Your phone pings 

Rio: Got busy, you’ll be dealing with Jamal moving forward

The man walks up to you with a smile on his face. “You must be Y/N” You nod, he hands you a yellow envelope you hand him the bag with shaky hands “Good doing business with you” he comments before turning to leave 

“Can you make sure it's all there?” you blurt out 

He laughs at your ridiculous comment “can’t do that out here in public lady, I’ll let Rio know” 

You nod again and watch as he drives away. 

This is your routine now, Rio never confirmed instead he would just add the extra back into your cut. You adjust to this new norm of life. 

You don’t see or hear from him for months, maybe it was for the best after all, you were angry with him you had every right to be. Well things don’t last forever and nothing is written in stone. 

Tuesday June 4, 2019 

Your stomach drops when you walk into your house that night, you feel the day you were kidnapped replaying itself. There was Rio on the corner chair with Mick lurking around the corner. 

“Not here to hurt you mama” he comments lifting his hands up to show that he wasn't there with malicious intent

You hadn’t left the door, in fact you were slowly inching away

“I wouldn’t do that”

“What do you want?” You ask in a shaky voice

“We need to talk” “You can text it” 

“I can’t” 

You sigh and close the door 

“I need your help” he reveals as you enter the living room. You don’t respond

“All that money I gave you, I need it, I’ll pay you back” 

You place your purse down “Why don’t you go get it I’m sure you know where it is”

He smirks because that was true  “don’t be like that mama” he tries to win you over 

“Don’t be like..” you pause “FUCK YOU RIO!” You scream “YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST SHOW UP AND ASK FOR MY MONEY, THE MONEY I WORKED HARD FOR?! WITHOUT AN APOLOGY WITHOUT ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF WHAT YOU DID TO ME!?” 

He rolls his shoulders back “It's just business” “BUSINESS?!” You stomp towards him Mick goes to interfere but Rio stops him. You glare at Mick “WHAT? YOU DON’T THINK YOUR BOSS CAN HANDLE HIMSELF, HE'S THAT MUCH OF A BITCH?!” When you turn to face Rio a blank stare replaces his expression no longer amused by your anger, guess that insult wasn’t taken lightly “I’VE BEEN YOUR PARTNER FOR 2 FUCKING YEARS! 2 YEARS! AND NEVER DID I EVER SHORT YOU. I ALWAYS MADE SURE THAT THE AMOUNT I GAVE YOU WAS RIGHT! AND YOU WHAT? YOUR FUCKING COUSIN” he shifts uncomfortable that you know the details behind the scenes “YEA I FOUND OUT, THE MOTHERFUCKER YOU CLAIM TO BE UNTRUST WORTHY YOU ALL OF A SUDDEN TRUST HIM?!” 

He says nothing “YEA JUST BUSINESS THIS IS WHO YOU ARE AS A PARTNER HUH? YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT LOYALTY AND PRINCIPAL, FUCK EVERYONE ELSE SO LONG AS YOU GOT YOUR MONEY RIGHT?” You pause looking at him waiting to see any sort of remorse, regret, something, anything! However he says nothing, his face is stoic like you were complaining about nothing important. As the tears stream down your face, you accept that this was pointless, he was never going to admit fault and you were never going to be able to step away from this life unless you were dead or in prison.  You take a deep breath, defeated you say  “You know where the money is go get it” you step away and motion towards the direction. He gives Mick a nod. He says nothing else, and you watch as they both leave. As soon as the door closes a loud scream leaves your body as soon as they walk out. How were you going to get out of this? Maybe fake your death or  leave the country to start over in a small village in the middle of nowhere!

Nothing changes after that day, still dealing with Jamal and still trying to find a way out of things. You receive an invitation from Nick to some sort of  masquerade ball in the city to “raise” funds for local charities. Mayor "duties". You assume not attending wasn’t an option.

Saturday July 13, 2019

The day of the ball arrives, you booked a town car for the night. No point in driving yourself and as far as you were concerned if anyone wanted to hurt you they could because you had no safety net after all. 

You step into the space you have to admit Nick went all out planning this event because it looked like a scene from a movie. You find your table and take a seat. You know no one who sits at your table you take a look around and spot Rio. It was easy,  anyone could spot his tattoo from a distance. A few speeches, the auction, then dinner is served proceeding with the party next. You look down at your watch, you had spent enough time at the event and you were hungry. 

If there was anything you learned from Rio and Nick never trust them so the most you did was nibble on your dinner plate and take small sips of your drink. 

“This seat taken?” you hear from behind you making look

You smile “No”

“Great!” he pulls out the chair 

“Hi I’m Alejandro”  he extends his hand to greet you 

You shake his hand  “Y/N Nice to meet you” 

He bows his head “Mucho gusto cariño (nice to meet you dear)”

“So do you work with Rio?” He takes a sip of his drink 

Not again it felt like you were being set up “Why do you want to know?” you finally take him in a man the same age as Rio and Nick rocking a gold canine tooth with many necklaces and rings on his finger. Gold to be exact. He had a thick accent, you assume somewhere from Central America or Spanish speaking country. 

He waves his hand around his head “Rumors go flying around” You nod still unsure of the purpose of this conversation “And Majority of the women here are plus one to their boyfriends or husband wasn’t hard to find you, that dress you came in all alone, heads were turning” he shamelessly looks you over biting his lip

“What do you want?” this conversation needed to end quickly 

He smiles, it makes you uneasy “Oh I don't want anything....” he pauses “It's a shame that they put you through that” you shift uncomfortably “But now you know who they are, the Serraño family. This is how they operate, they are vicious, they don’t care how many lives they destroy, they don’t operate with any principals...” 

You cut him off “I have come to that conclusion” 

He stops and chuckles lightly “Anyway I’m a much better option, I honor my principals and partnerships. I will have people reach out to you next week. Maybe I can take you out to lunch and we can talk.  You don’t have to stick with them” 

You nod but look past him to see Rio staring at both of you. Even the women trying to engage with him were failing due to how his gaze was dead set on you and Alejandro.

Alejandro looked back following your gaze as an additional ‘fuck you’ to Rio he raises his glass as a toast before turning back to face you “Ooop! I’ve been caught” with that he quickly stands up “Talk to you later cariño” 

You decide that this is your cue to leave and make your way out of the building. 

Authors Note: Please leave your feedback, again please don't steal. Only repost, like, or give credit.

Oh I can also start a tag list just let me know.

XOXO Rose

[barbwritesstuff]

the not being able to cry aspect of vampirism is like my most detested. like wtf am i supposed to do when having autism meltdowns???? wail???????? it's just not the same

Vampires still have meltdowns (as well as all sorts of other emotional reactions that can't just be ignored). Those feelings just manifest a little differently.

Common vampire meltdowns might look like:

Sitting on the bottom of a lake, pond, pool, or ocean because water is heavy and noise is muffled and hanging out underwater is a whole arse gothic vibe.

Drinking blood from people who are feeling a certain type of way so the vampire's natural mimicry and the emotions in the blood allow the vampire to emote organically for a moment.

Drinking the blood of people who are high/drunk/medicated. Not always the healthiest coping mechanism... but not the worst. Depends very much on the drug, I suppose.

Moonbathing. Lying in moonlight until the burn of reflected sunlight becomes truly uncomfortable. It doesn't damage them, but it makes them squirm and wriggle and sometimes, when your body is usually very, very dead, that can feel nice.

Burying themselves. Look. Sometimes vampires just need to lie around in shallow graves for a wee bit. Maybe scream into the dirt a little.

Kill spree.

[icarustypicalfall]

Hallway

Phillip Graves x Fem!Reader

MASTERPOST

Summary: Based on MW3, where you give the Arrogant Commander a cold shoulder as he teams up with your unit in the purpose of catching the bad guys.

Warnings: Cod usual violence, based on MW2 and MW3, mentions of Graves betrayal.

"Each day you rise with me , know that I'd gladly be the Icarus to your certainty."

Graves had returned.

The enthusiasm was tainted by the memories of his past actions. There was a time when he had almost taken the lives of everyone in the room. The tension was palpable during the call with General Shepard, and it lingered in the base as everyone awaited his arrival.

During his absence, you had been on a side mission. You never truly believed that Graves had died, knowing that he was not the type to go down so easily. If he were to meet his end, it would be in a more dramatic and tragic way, perhaps with a dagger piercing his heart, just as he had pierced yours when he nearly killed your teammates. Despite your disdain for the man, you couldn't help but longe for his presence. He relished in the power he held over you, ordering you around and demanding extra gym sessions to "maintain your strength".

Graves was back, "the American bastard" if you ask Gaz and an "the arsehole" as Soap added. Captain, unable to contain his contempt, had burnt half of his cigars to prevent himself from snapping the man's neck every time he opened his mouth. Ghost, true to his name, shot Graves his usual icy glares, though fortunately they were not lethal, or else Graves would already be rotting in hell.

Graves hadn't changed a bit. He still served that smug demeanor and spoke with a southern drawl that he seemed to inject into every word that fell from his lips. He smirked shamelessly, his eyes fixated on you before he confidently asked, "Missed me, darlin'? I know you did." Your heart tightened at his words, torn between wanting to slap him and kiss him senseless. However, you managed to maintain a neutral expression as he continued, "Where's my welcome back, sugar?"

Gaz, clearly unimpressed, intervened and pushed you away from Graves, dismissing his extended hand for a handshake. "Shove it up your arse," Gaz retorted, unyielding in his dislike and anger for the man.

Graves had been captivated by you ever since he joined TF141. You were a remarkable young woman, fierce and unafraid to speak your mind, earning the respect of your superiors. He couldn't help but feel drawn to you, despite his annoying smugness. His attempts to gain your attention often manifested as mockery and taunting. Deep down, he longed to hold you close and feel your touch. However, when you began to warm up to him, betrayal struck, driving a wedge between you.

He was determined to repair that breach.

"Aren't those weights a bit heavy for you, darlin'?" Graves remarked, his eyes fixed on you as you let the barbell fall to the ground. You hadn't even noticed his presence, so focused were you on your workout. Your chest tightened, reminiscing about the old days when he would taunt and annoy you. Though you had promised yourself to ignore him completely, he had broken your heart once, and you couldn't afford to let him reopen those wounds.

You ignored him, shooting him a cold glare before lifting the barbell once again. Graves smirked, amused by your icy demeanor. It was a challenge for him to see how much he could push you before you broke down and let your guard down. He relished in getting under your skin, even though it pained him not being able to approach you in any other way.

The room was thick with the scent of sweat and the heat of intense concentration. It was deathly silent, save for the sound of your shallow breaths and light paintings.

Graves stood there, unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on you like a predator stalking its prey. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke with a mockingly confident tone, his southern drawl becoming more pronounced. "You're hurting your hands, sweetheart. You're meant to look pretty and keep quiet, not fight men three times your size," Graves added.

Your eyes gleamed with a surge of adrenaline. You turned to face him, dropping the heavy barbell and walking towards him with a fiery glare. You snapped, your words laced with a fiery passion, a storm threatening to consume his very existence. "Want to see what these hands can do too?"

Graves smirked, folding his arms and exuding an air of confidence and arrogance. Yet, there was something else in his gaze. He yearned for your attention, scanning your figure from head to toe, as if watching you train or work countless times wasn't enough to memorize every inch of your skin. "Yeah, I'd love to find out," he replied eagerly.

In a swift motion, you tripped him up and landed a light punch, causing him to fall to the ground. The smirk never left his face. You pressed your knee against his ribcage, applying slight pressure as a warning. "I wouldn't hesitate to knock you out if you say something like that again," you warned, your voice filled with determination.

Graves let out a sharp gasp, feeling the weight of your presence pinning him down. His body tensed, his blood racing through his veins. He couldn't help but revel in the fire burning in your eyes. "I suppose I crossed a line, darlin'," he rasped, his voice low.

As you moved away, returning to your workout, Graves took a deep breath. He couldn't help but yearn for you even more, despite the cold shoulder you gave him. His eyes followed the contours of your body as you worked on the pulldown machine. Leaning against the wall, he shamelessly continued to stare, captivated by your every move.

He made no attempt to conceal the desire burning within him as he glanced over at you. Despite the potential risks of breaking a few rules and facing the consequences, he mustered the courage to speak up.

"Wouldn't you appreciate my help, darling? You seem quite confused."

You let out a sigh, raising an eyebrow as you observed the man. His face displayed an assured smirk that hinted at a superiority complex. His lips curled slightly, forming a subtle, knowing smile that added to the smugness radiating from his countenance. Clutching your water bottle, you muttered in frustration.

"Don't you have meetings or reports to attend to instead of wasting my time?"

"It won't take me long to finish those reports and meetings. Care to swing by my office and see for yourself?" Graves added with a teasing wink.

Your attempts to ignore him only fueled the fire burning in his heart and warming his soul. He folded his arms, leaning back against the wall as he watched you gather your belongings. A slight twinge of pain coursed through him, not wanting you to leave.

"Just leaving me here like that, sweetheart? You didn't even say goodbye."

"Why would I?" you scoffed, walking past him.

The scent of your perfume tormented his senses, and he found himself staring at the open door in shock. He followed you, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over him.

Why were you so distant now?

He longed to hold you, to kiss you, to embrace the burning sensation he felt. He called out your name, trying not to let his voice betray the desperation that consumed him.

"Darling, I..." Graves spoke softly, his eyes filled with pain.

You let out a sigh, finally stopping in the middle of the hallway. You didn't turn around, ensuring he wouldn't see the fire in your chest or the pain etched all over your face.

Graves experienced a mixture of emotions. His pride yearned to command you, to force you to face him and express your emotions. But he knew it was a losing battle, considering you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks. No one had ever treated him this way. He commanded, watching your calm figure in front of him.

"Look at me," he whispered, and you could swear you heard a hint of shyness and shame in his words. "Please...?"

You faced him, the venom and pain mixing in your heart, extinguishing any other emotions that remained in your mind.

"Of course, Commander. Why wouldn't I look at the man who once betrayed us?"

Graves gritted his teeth, his emotions in turmoil as anger and guilt battled within him. He was so close yet so far away, feeling himself being pulled towards you.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Graves finally met your eyes, his blue orbs filled with both desire and pain. A bittersweet serenity enveloped you both.

"You want me to acknowledge you as if you hadn't done anything. You've lived a long life, yet you still have no clue about the consequences of your actions."

Graves took a deep breath, his anger resurfacing, accentuated by his southern drawl, making him sound even more threatening.

"That was an order from Shepard. We had to take the base to ensure we could find the terrorists and make sure there were no survivors. As for Alejandro..." Graves hesitated for a moment but decided to be as honest as he could. "We were following orders. I didn't have a choice."

"They trusted you. I thought I could trust you," you whispered, your eyes piercing him with a cold, angry gaze.

Graves fell silent for a moment, feeling the sting of your words pierce his heart like a dagger. He cleared his throat before muttering, his tone tinged with weariness.

"I had to make choices I didn't want to. I couldn't refuse, not when hundreds of lives relied on me. Refusing meant their death. Someone had to die. This is war."

"Next time he asks you to bomb our base, you'll comply, won't you?" you challenged.

Graves's heart sank as you spoke. He hesitated for a few moments, trying to find the words to answer, but he had nothing to defend himself with. He spoke in a tired, exhausted tone, the fire that once burned within him now extinguished.

"No," he paused, his tone quiet and filled with despair. "I would rather end my own life than hurt a single hair of you."

Your head snapped up, confusion evident in your eyes. "What do you mean?"

Graves couldn't bear your cold words any longer. He turned away from you, his shoulders slumped as emotions began to overwhelm him. In his mind, he replayed all the moments he was forced to hurt and kill. His past and the pain he had caused were eating away at his soul. His voice was weak when he spoke, his Southern drawl a mere echoGraves couldn't hide his burning desire as he looked at you. Despite the potential risks and consequences, he mustered the courage to speak up.

"Nothing is more precious to me than you. I requested your captain to send you for gathering intel before my mission. I knew Shepard would use you as a threat, and my soldiers would try to detain you. Dralin, you are my only weakness, and I wish for nothing more than to protect you from harm," Graves said quietly, unsure if he was speaking to himself or to you.

You were completely shocked, taken aback by his words.

Was this his confession? What had you done to cause such a reaction from the usually composed commander?

Your mere presence seemed to have pushed him to the edge. But if it meant that you will embrace him and kiss away his sorrows, he was willing to accept that fate.

Graves continued, guilt evident in the way he cupped his left elbow. "Shepard is... influential. There was no time to ask for help. Besides, it was just me and my team against that army." He turned to look at you with a solemn expression. "It was impossible to fight them and survive..."

You looked down, your hand hesitantly reaching for his calloused palm, gently cupping it in your own. You squeezed his scarred flesh, silently murmuring.

"I believe you..."

Graves' gaze remained fixed on you. The warmth in your voice and your attempts to comfort him stirred something deep within his heart. He stepped closer to you, speaking softly.

"I was afraid of losing everything... I couldn't bear to imagine what would have happened to all of you if I had chosen to side with you instead of Shepard." Graves whispered, his words sounding like a confession.

Standing before you, he felt vulnerable. The touch of your cold hand in his made shivers run down his spine, reminiscent of the feelings of young love. Graves had fallen for many women, but none had ever made him lose his mind and experience the intoxicating bliss that you brought to his life.

"I'm sorry, darlin, my decisions are never perfect... I have blood on my hands... so much blood... I just..." he murmured, his head lowered and his eyes downcast.

Summoning the little courage you had, you brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen on his face and leaned in to join your lips together. At first, he was still, shocked by the gesture, but soon his warm lips met yours, and the two of you became lost in a passionate embrace. It was enchanting, like two intertwined swans, their souls merging into one.

As you pulled away for a breath, your lips still lingering close to his, his hand cupped the back of your head, gently stroking your locks.

"I forgave you... a long time ago..." you whispered against his lips. A small twitch at the corner of his mouth revealed a genuine smile, not the usual smug grin or fake laugh. It was a smile that only appeared when you complimented his hair or his skills.

He hugged you tightly, holding you close to his chest, seeking solace in the curve of your neck. Finally, he let go of all the painful emotions that had been eating away at his soul, allowing you to embrace him and experiencing a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in a long time.

You kissed until you were breathless, leaning against the wall and savoring the eternal elixir of each other's lips. It was a divine moment, shared in the empty hallway.

Graves cupped your face, a smile spreading across his flushed features, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Nothing else mattered to him now. Once a sorrowful man, believing he had lost everything, he had come back to life with you in his arms. Your sweet face smiled softly as you continued to kiss him, over and over again.

[hughiecampbelle]

Little Death (Frenchie Oneshot)

Character/s: Frenchie, Butcher, Hughie, M.M.

Word Count: 1,396

Requested: hello!! I love your work!! I would love to request frenchie and the following prompts! “Gauze” “caution” “I don’t owe you anything” - anon

A/N: I hope you like it my love!!! I'm not the happiest with it. I've rewritten it three times, but I think it's just one of those fics where I'll never truly be satisfied unfortunately. Regardless, I love the idea! Thank you for requesting!!! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

I don’t owe you anything, you spat, blood dribbling down your chin. Timidly, he slides a pad of gauze across the sink, leaving it between you. The first aid kit sat open on his lap, exposed. You reach out only when he’s let go, unwrapping it. Your head pounds. The wound on your forehead wasn’t deep enough to need stitches. For that, you were grateful. It pulsed, wet and red and throbbing. You pulled your sleeve over your hand, pressing into it. He reaches out to help, but you flinch. He forgets. That’s dangerous. I don’t owe any of you anything, you clarify a little louder. You’re sure they’re all listening. The walls are thin and that group, who hadn’t stopped arguing since they showed up, were all too quiet. The angry one with bloodshot eyes rammed the butt of his gun into your head. If only it’d been his bare fist. Not after, with a gloved hand, had he punched you upwards, your jaw bruising as you spoke. You grabbed the wrist of his coat. This one, meek and empathetic, ordered him to stop. The both of you to stop. They were guests in your home, they were supposed to act like it. He wasn’t going to force you to do anything you didn’t want to. You’d had enough of that for one lifetime. I know you don’t. His tone is gentle. Understanding. You stood, careful, cautious in the tiny bathroom, taping the bandages over the opening. What did they see when they looked at you?

You rinsed your mouth, watching the water circle the drain, pink and gooey. His knee touches you, the fabric worn thin, and you can’t help but turn rigid, still, until you can back away into the corner. Until you can make sure he is nowhere near you. He raises his hands, surrendering. I did not mean- he stops, unable to finish the sentence. I know, you say too quickly. You knew his type, his kind. Always testing the limits. Pushing the boundaries. Believing themselves different from the rest. They could try all they wanted, they could think all they wanted, they all ended up in the same shallow graves.

You were famous in all the wrong places. Death for hire. There were no signs or symptoms. There was no real reason for their sudden deaths. It was instant. It was painless. It was effective. No marks or bruises, no bullet holes or brains bashed in. No weapons necessary. It's been a long time since you took a job. There were plenty of opportunities, plenty of people looking, you just didn't want to be found. Fell off the grid. No family, no friends. It was easier than you'd like to admit. It was effortless. One day you were there, the next no one had heard from you. You didn't take calls or emails. You didn't have a phone. Customers would drop off letters, notes, envelopes of cash with names and descriptions. You'd do what you needed to. They always paid well. There was a sick sort of satisfaction. Your part was easy. Sometimes you put on a show. Got dressed up. Slid beside them at the bar. Took them to bed. They adored you. Other times, it was on the subway, the bus, in the middle of the crosswalk. Your job was done. The world went on spinning. That's just how it goes.

Little Death. La Petite Mort. That’s what everyone called you. I assume you know what I can do. He nods. They all did. It was Frenchie who'd seen you first. You weren't angry or fighting, you weren't cagey. You were very still, sitting in the middle of your cell, knees to chest. There was something underneath that. Perhaps it was defeat or shame. In the moment, it caught him off guard. Now he understands it's just who you are. Who you've become. Who were you before? Cindy opened the doors and everyone fled. You were cautious though, pulling your sleeves over your hands, your arms, keeping yourself small enough to slip by without getting caught, without hurting anyone. He wanted to follow, but it was too late. He never forgot about you. Afterwards, he asked M.M. and Hughie to dig up every file from the Sage Grove Center. You'd be useful, he just wasn't sure how important you'd turn out to be.

So why aren't you afraid? You sat at the edge of the tub, him on the toilet, the two of you staring at one another. He smiles and the act strikes you across the face. You are not so scary. He shrugs. Nine years ago, almost ten, they injected you with Compound V. You were a teenager, placed in their care by people who loved you. There were no physical changes. No outward deformities or abilities. They assumed it was mental, but you couldn't read thoughts or move things with your mind. Called you a dud. A failure. If that was true, wouldn't that mean you could leave? You begged one of the nurses, please. The words scratched your throat, tore their way from your mouth like barbed wire. Please, I won't say anything. I won't tell anyone. And then you grabbed them by the wrist, making them drop your dinner tray. They dropped, too. A pile of lead wrapped in skin. You'd never forget that sound. Someone heard and they followed. They went to pull you, drag you from the cell, punish you, but they found the same fate. There was a pile of bodies before anyone realized it wasn't on purpose. Lamplighter watched the security cameras. You never fought any of them. They found no weapons on your person after a strip search. All they did was touch you.

Ten years. Ten years of bodies. Ten years of testing. They'd learn. You'd learned too. It only worked skin to skin. Clothing, fabric, gloves, all of it could be a lifesaver. Any part of you. All parts of you. They still found ways to hurt you. Some favored cattle prods. Others went the old fashioned way, pointing a gun between your eyes until you took down an entire room of other patients. You chose to live and for that you would always be considered selfish. Who do you want me to kill? You ask, your eyes cast down at the blood drying on your shirt. No one ever wanted your company. No one ever wanted to get to know you. It was what you could do that was of interest. It is not that simple, Petite Mort. You roll your eyes. It is that simple. You move abruptly. Sitting to standing, learning into him, your faces inches from one another. His eyes widened despite himself. He is scared.

They all are.

You can say no, he says again. You're overcome by nausea, dizziness. Maybe you had a concussion. Maybe it was what he'd said, the name he whispered. Get out. You look him in the eyes and repeat yourself, but he doesn't move. Get out! You pull at his jacket, pushing him through the doorway. His friends all freeze. Get out! Leave now! You know your neighbors will complain about the screaming, but you don't care. You're furious. Frenchie tries to calm you down, but you're hysterical. This is what they wanted. This is why Vought let you live so long. Because they wanted you to be their weapon. You could kill anyone. Everyone. You were collateral. An emergency fund. An option when they were all out of options. You weren't going to be used anymore. You weren't going to be a pawn in Voughts game. Not anymore. You got out. You were free. You couldn't go back there, you couldn't put yourself in danger like that again. They would recognize you. You would never see the light of day again. They'd let you rot in a cell like all those years. Before you slam the door in their faces, Frenchie tries one last time. S'il te plaît. We would never let anything happen to you. You've become cold, stone-like, the same shell of a human being he recognized from that first day, that first moment. There is not getting through to you. Not now, at least. The conversation was over. He must let it die.

You were not going to kill Homelander.

[crimsonbubble]

cw. nsfw, dad's best friend!graves, afab!reader, lots of teasing, overload on nicknames, pool sex, praise, fingering, exhibitionism, public sex (?), implied age gap (graves is mid 30s, reader is early 20s), allusions to car sex and mirror sex *not proofread, just pure horny

[inspo from an ask and @whip-smarts 🫣]

MINORS DNI!!

the water swished around your legs as you sat on the edge of the pool, simply dipping your legs in. you sipped on a cold lemonade, watching the ripples in the water. the sound of the sliding door and a familiar southern accent made you perk up.

"mr. graves!"

you set down your drink, all but running over to him. you quickly looped your arms around his torso, making him stumble back. a smile was quick to appear on his face, chuckling softly as he held you.

"well hi sweetheart, missed me, did ya?"

he planted a quick kiss on your head, holding your waist as he swayed you in his arms. his thumb drew circles into the exposed skin of your back, keeping an arm around you as he talked with your father.

"she couldn't wait to see you again, bouncing all over the place just waiting for you."

'bouncing all over the place.' his head was soon filled with the increasingly inappropriate moments he's had with you. the times he's kissed your soft lips and watched your tits bounce as you rode him in the backseat of his car. the way he held and groped your body as he bent you over in front of your bedroom mirror. not to mention how he watched how your tits bounced as you raced over to him just now and how they pressed into his arm.

"nice to know a pretty little lady wants me."

he looked at you with a smug smile, quirking an eyebrow as your cheeks heated up, looking away from him. he did not doubt that you were thinking of a handful of intimate moments you'd shared.

"you two have fun out here, I gotta make a few calls."

with that, your father headed back inside, already typing away on his phone. graves held your waist as he walked over to the poolside sun chair. you pouted softly when he pulled away from you, watching as he emptied his pockets on the small table.

"you gotta get in if you wanna have fun, mr. graves."

he turned to you, raising an eyebrow as he tugged you closer by your waist. "how many times do I gotta tell you to drop the formalities, babydoll?"

you huffed out a laugh, looping your arms around his neck as you pushed your chest up to his. he groaned at how you pushed yourself into him, watching your tits slightly spill out from your baby pink bikini top.

"alright alright, fine. philip, you gotta jump in to have fun." graves whistled quietly, loving the way his name slipped from your lips.

"yea? wanna get me wet, sweetpea?" you nodded sweetly to his words, swaying your hips with the music that played from your speaker.

"I'd much rather get you wet, wouldn't you want that too, baby cakes?" your cheeks heated up again, pressing your face to his shoulder. you walked backward slowly, still clinging to graves. with a quick move, you switch positions with him, pushing him down as you did. he quickly grabbed your arm, dragging you down into the pool with him.

you let out a quick huff, wiping the hair out of your face. graves quickly resurfaced the water, shaking his head as he wipes his face. thankfully you had fallen into the shallow end of the pool because of the way graves stood in the water with his dress shirt clinging to each curve of his toned body.

you shamelessly stared, taking in the way droplets of water trailed down his exposed forearms where he had rolled his sleeves up and down his neck and chest where he had unbuttoned his shirt a bit. "like what you see, baby?"

you hummed and nodded, tugging him close by his shirt collar. you pressed your lips against him, keeping a hand on his neck and the other on his chest. graves had a hand on your lower back, the other sliding from your ass to your thigh, hiking it up against his hip.

"you'll be good for me, yea? be my good bunny?" he pushed you against the wall of the pool, a hand still on your back while the other pressed to your pulsing cunt. you let out a choked moan as he circled his fingers over your clit. you bit your lip harshly as his hand dove under your bikini.

you tried to muffle your sounds, leaning your head against his collarbone as you watched how his fingers played with your clit. your nails are digging into your palms as you choke on your own moans. "atta girl, keep nice and quiet for me, yea?" you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into his neck as he buries his fingers in your warm pussy.

"just like that sugar, such a good girl for me." warmth spread across your chest, your cunt clenching around his fingers. graves laughed each time your greedy pussy tightened around him with each soft praise he whispered in your ear. his cock twitched as he listened to each soft whimper that slipped past your lips.

your nails dug into his shoulders, hiding your face in his chest as he drew circles on your clit. he cooed out small praises, holding you close to him as you feel your body tighten. he held you close, kissing along your neck and shoulders as your body tensed and pulsed with bliss.

the sound of the sliding door made you both jump apart, rubbing your faces as you tried to act inconspicuous. you two stole soft glances as he got out of the pool, staring at the veins in his arms as he pulled himself out. he threw you a soft wink, blowing a kiss your way as you leaned against the pool edge.

[spirkkock]

Queer Text/Subtext in Shallow Grave (1994)

CW: BLOOD, STABBING, MURDER, NON-SEXUAL NUDITY, DRUG USE

I guess I wrote a rough essay... about the queer subtext in Shallow Grave... Here... have the rough draft if you'd like...

Overt references to queerness:

When we look at contemporary movies, we often have a knee-jerk reaction to dismiss any “funny” references to queerness or sexuality to be taken as jokes and nothing further than that.  Unfortunately, this has become all too common, and does a disservice to the films we watch. So I will be taking every moment of referenced or implied queerness as serious, even if it is delivered in a humorous way. Especially because this movie is not meant to be a comedy (despite some humorous moments).

Furthermore, references to queerness in movies should be taken seriously because they establish not only the existence of queerness (in universe, as one might say), but can also demonstrate the character’s attitudes towards queerness.  Its important to notice that at no point in this movie are any references to queerness played for a laugh – they might be humorous, but we are not meant to laugh at the character for being queer, which indicates that queerness is taken seriously within the universe of the movie (or at least between the characters).

The first overt reference to queerness is when Juliet asks an interviewee if he is having an affair with a man or a woman and the man is not given screen time to answer. This same man bursts into tears after Alex, a man, says, “When did anyone last say to you these exact words, ‘you are the sunshine of my life’?” (this is a reference to the Stevie Wonder song of the same name). While it is technically (according to the script) said by Alex to a different interviewee, the arrangement of the shots does not indicate that, as it cuts directly from Alex asking the question to the man crying. This could imply a number of things.

The second overt reference to queerness comes at the charity ball, where a Scotsman says, “ladies and gentlemen, and those of you who are neither or both,” which is then met with a drumroll. Alex immediately responds, offended, “where did they dig him up?” implying that Alex finds the joke to be outdated and, perhaps, distasteful.

The third overt reference is when Alex dresses in drag. He also appears in the same scene, on the tape recording wearing some rather flamboyant costumes.  The fact that Alex is in drag is not addressed by any of the other characters, nor by Alex, indicates that this is either a usual occurrence, or, for some reason, entirely unremarkable to the characters.  Specifically, it is interesting that David does not comment on it, as he walks into the scene unsuspecting.

The fourth, and final, overt reference to queerness is when, upon being told of Juliet and David’s relationship, Alex says to Juliet, “I’d do exactly the same thing except I don’t think I’m his type.” If the line is interpreted sarcastically (which I think most viewers will) then we can assume that he is jealous of David for being with Juliet. If it is interpreted as earnest, then we can assume that he is jealous of Juliet for being with David. It also could be an ambiguous combination of both.

Queer Subtext:

Now let us dig into the subtext, which I actually find to be much juicier....

The Squash Scene and the Car

Directly after the interviews have concluded, we are given a scene which helps frame the relationship between the three characters as one built on dynamics of domination and submission and gives us a baseline to understand each of the character’s roles within this dynamic. This scene takes place on the Squash court.

There is a deviation here between the script and the film, as several lines have been cut, but I will include them as they add some context to the scene.

In the above text, Alex indicates that he sees this game of squash as a struggle for dominance. In this case, the game between Alex and David is won by Alex, who then, despite having called David a “bad loser,” demonstrates that he is a sore winner when he gloats over David by saying, “defeat, defeat, defeat – sporting, personal, financial, professional, sexual, and everything.”

David is clearly annoyed by this and storms off. This scene sets up the ongoing power dynamic between Alex and David in which Alex is the dominant one in the relationship. It also is the first time that we see David being emasculated by Alex, which will continue occurring for the first half of the movie.

Immediately after David leaves the court, Juliet takes his place to play a match against Alex.  In this scene she is wearing a rather masculine outfit which is similar to that of the two male characters. She also sports short hair throughout the movie, but this is the scene in which she appears the most “boyish.”  When she enters the court to play, Alex begins to make the same statement (“Did you know squash is-”) that he made (in the script) earlier, to David. Thus he is using this exercise as a way to exert dominance, not only over David, his male sexual rival, but also over Juliet, thus implying that she is on equal footing – therefore also a sexual rival. However, Juliet cuts him off and tells him, “Alex, just serve.”

The action of cutting off Alex denies him domination in that moment, thus establishing that the two of them are on much more equal footing, or possibly that Juliet is in fact the dominant one between the two of them.  This scene serves to establish that typical gendered dynamics are somewhat blurred between these three individuals, and that David, instead of Juliet, takes on the most feminine/passive role in the group.

The next scene once again highlights the complicated gender and power dynamics within the group.  Juliet drives the car (masculine) while Alex and David bicker with one another from the back seat and passenger seat, respectively.

In this scene, addressing Alex’s win, David says, “Victory is the same as defeat – it’s giving into destructive competitive urges,” which distances him from competition, and could be interpreted as him rejecting the masculine urge to dominate.  Alex, in return, emasculates him by belittling his reliance on a “discussion group,” (implied to be therapy). During this scene, Alex and David are looking at one another, however, the rear-view mirror blocks both of their eyes. This symbolizes their unwillingness to see “eye-to-eye and perhaps a certain level of repression between the two of them.  Also in this scene, Juliet physically dominates Alex by elbowing him in the chest, and attempts to emasculate him verbally by implying that a woman that he is interested in hates him. She does this specifically in response to Alex’s emasculation of David, thus establishing that while Alex might be dominant over David, she is dominant over him.  During this exchange, however, in her attempt to protect David from Alex, David is further emasculated because he relies on someone else to defend him.

Discovering the Body / Three Friends, Three Bodies

When the trio discovers Hugo’s body we see some more of this interesting dynamic.

David stands by shocked while Alex ransacks the room searching for paraphernalia, while Juliet (the doctor among them) attends to the body.

Hugo’s nude corpse in this scene represents male vulnerability. He is prone and exposed on the bed, having overdosed on heroin, and can do nothing while his privacy is violated (by the dominant, Alex).  The injection of drugs into the body, in this case, could also be said to symbolize emasculation - the breaking of the body barrier through penetration of a syringe (phallus). This exemplifies a significant cultural fear at the time – death of the male body via penetration, which had become a major concern due to the HIV/AIDS epidemic. (If I was writing this essay for real, this is where I would insert articles that demonstrate horror’s preoccupation with AIDS and gay stuff during the 80s and 90s, but this is just for fun)

David, of course, is enamored by this display of the fragility of the male body. I would suggest that he identifies with Hugo’s vulnerability in death, and that the treatment of Hugo’s body by Alex and Juliet mirrors the way that they treat David. While Alex takes advantage of Hugo’s vulnerability in death by violating his privacy (thus dominating it), Juliet emasculates Hugo’s corpse by tending to it.  In one shot, we also see Juliet’s fingers dangerously close to penetrating Hugo’s mouth.

We can also expand upon this by recognizing that the two male characters that are pursuing Hugo and the trio in search of the money, are parallels to Juliet and David.  The two men are able to dominate Juliet and Alex through violence, only then to be killed by David. Thus, the three bodies that the trio end up burying are parallels to the trio themselves.

David Overcomes Emasculation, Alex Becomes Emasculated.

Alex’s emasculation of David continues throughout the first half of the movie, culminating in David being forced to dismember Hugo’s body (the very body that he identifies with).  When this occurs, he becomes the violator/aggressor/dominator.

This occurrence proceeds the change in the group dynamic. Around the midpoint of the movie (during the charity ball) we see David transition into a dominant role in the trio, while Alex becomes submissive.

This is demonstrated first by Juliet dominating Alex while they dance. Alex falls to the floor, drunk, and Juliet takes that moment to step on Alex’s mouth, forcing him to lick the bottom of her shoe.  He then willingly kisses her ankle, meeting her eye contact submissively. It is made clear through his facial expressions and laughter, that he finds joy in this act, thus embracing the emasculation (whereas David had always responded poorly, rejecting it).

Alex then attempts to re-exert control over David by forcing him to toast when he doesn’t want to. David eventually concedes after Alex yells at him, demanding that he toast to “love and happiness forever.”  (Alex also humiliates and emasculates Cameron in this scene).

David finally exerts control when Brian McKenly (a man keen on pursuing Juliet) interrupts their conversation. David responds by standing on level with Brian and stating, “If you want to talk to my girlfriend, you talk to me first. If you want to dance with her, you apply in writing three weeks in advance or you end up inside of a fucking bin bag. You didn’t apply – so you don’t dance!”

While David shrinks a bit afterwards, admitting that he found the interaction stressful, both Juliet and Alex embrace him, in high spirits (one might say… aroused…). Alex exclaims, “He [David] was really good – fucking bin bag – I really liked that. You really explored your maleness to the full there! You were magnificent.” This statement indicates that Alex, who has rarely had an encouraging word for David over the course of the movie, is invigorated upon seeing that David has stepped into a dominant role, exerting his masculinity onto others. Immediately following this, Alex is assaulted in the bathroom by Cameron (who he had emasculated twice prior) and two other men, who beat him quite badly, thus emasculating Alex.

The following day, Alex’s emasculation is made complete when he dresses in drag and spends the day in debauchery with Juliet. The framing of his and Juliet’s bodies during this scene is also worth noting, as they are often visually indistinguishable from one another – with Alex being noticeably more feminine than Juliet in several shots due to his makeup, jewelry, dress, and rather delicate shoulders.

(Notably, during the entirety of the ball scene and much of the drag/video scene, Alex is often pictured smoking a cigar instead of his usual cigarette, which could be said to stand in for a phallus.)

From this point on, David is almost always dominant over Alex. (One notable exception is one moment where Alex leans in close to David during dinner and orders, “now swallow,” while making very intense eye contact. David regains control by reminding Alex that David was the one who dismembered Hugo’s body.)

After this point it is clear that David is undergoing some extreme psychological stress, and has become paranoid and aggressive.  His shift in demeanor is most clearly symbolized by this shot, where he calls out of work so that he can begin making plans to protect the cash.

The Wickerman

During one scene, an injured Alex lays on the couch and watches the final scene of The Wickerman (1973). 

The Wickerman tells the tale of a conservative Christian police officer who goes to a Scottish isle to investigate the disappearance of a girl, only to discover that the locals are practicing a form of paganism that involves human sacrifice. The police officer discovers that he is in fact the sacrifice.  It is implied that he is the sacrifice because he is a virgin and a heterosexual, and he is unwilling to have sex with Christopher Lee’s character.  Christopher Lee was most well known at the time for playing the lead in Dracula (1958) – another movie with extremely well documented queer subtext. The audience of The Wickerman would have been aware of this.

During this scene, the drumbeats of the pagan ritual, where the police officer is being marched to his execution/sacrifice, synchronizes with David’s steps overhead, a sound that the characters and the audience come to associate with surveillance and dread.

Honestly this scene has me a bit stumped. Who does Alex identify with in this situation? The heterosexual victim? – is the ending subverted because his submission culminates in… the penetration of Alex's body… thus making him queer? Idk it's been a long day.

Surveillance

During the second half of the movie, David moves into the Attic and rarely comes down when his housemates are home.  He is protecting the money, both from his housemates and from the men who eventually come looking for it. While Alex and Juliet are brutalized by the men, David is the one who has set a trap for them, and is able to kill them. He also leads the trio to dispose of the bodies, and drives the van (whereas Alex had driven the van the first time they disposed of the bodies, when he had been the dominant one in the relationship).

During his time in the attic, David drills holes in the ceiling so that he can spy on his housemates. He is literally in a dominant position over them, looking down on them while they go about their daily tasks. In one scene, he spies on Alex and Juliet while they are sleeping. In this scene, he is shown first to be watching Alex. David is also in a state of undress that we have not seen before, implying a certain sensuality to the observation. We do not get to see Alex in a state of undress, but the scene finishes with Alex putting his shoes on, the camera looking down from above, implying David’s Point of view, and that he had watched the whole time. After Alex leaves, David moves to watch Juliet, in a scene that is much longer and more explicitly inappropriate and sexualized, especially because we come to understand that David’s temporary attic bed is located directly over her bed. However, before she begins undressing, he looks away and holds his head in his hands.

This scene simultaneously offers us a leveling effect between the two objects of David’s gaze (Alex and Juliet), while simultaneously prioritizing the heterosexual coupling. However, the implication that there is shame associated with the heterosexual gaze, complicates the situation.

Penetration with the Drill (Phallus)

When Alex goes into the attic to look for the money (and finds it in the water tank), he climbs back down the ladder only to be confronted by David, who is holding a drill (phallus) as a weapon.  Alex’s hands are wet from the water, and he frantically wipes them on the seat of his pants, behind his back, visually placing his hands as a barrier to his anus. The Drill makes contact with Alex's head and breaks the skin in an act of penetration (the body barrier is broken). This is the first scene in which David directly engages in domination (and penetration) of Alex.

David’s Glasses and Alex’s Photo

Lenses, mirrors, and portals/doorways are deeply significant visual aids in this movie, but I want to highlight the one that stood out to me the most. When Juliet and David have (implied) sex, at which point they solidify their status as a couple, David removes his glasses, and places them on Juliet’s bedside table.  Underneath the glasses is a photo of Alex in costume, a cigar in his mouth, framed through the lens of the glasses.  The photo was taken on the day in which we see Alex at his most feminine, at a point where he had been thoroughly emasculated (beaten in a bathroom by a man that he had emasculated multiple times). The framing of the photo, through the lens of David’s glasses implies that this is how David sees Alex – costumed, emasculated, and with a phallus in his mouth.

This photo is also shown once more in the film; David holds the photo of Alex as he lies in his attic bed, and he pins it above his head so he can look at it. The scene cuts to Alex, also in bed, who then gets up. It once again cuts back to David, who also gets up, and we see that Juliet lies asleep next to him. This follows a pattern of shots that we’ve seen before in the film (see the Surveillance section), where we see David watching Alex in what could be interpreted as a sexual or romantic way, before the camera reveals Juliet and lingers significantly. The implication is that whatever there is between David and Alex always gives way to the relationship between David and Juliet.

Returning to the glasses - the final time that we see them is during the climax of the movie. The three characters are struggling against one another, and David’s head is forced into the refrigerator so that Alex can try and smash him with the door.  He manages to throw Alex off, but not before his glasses are caught on the shelf of the refrigerator, thus knocking them off his face.  Having David’s glasses be knocked off would not typically be significant in a fight scene such as this, however the camera goes out of its way to linger on this shot, indicating that the symbolism here is important.  The other time that we have seen David remove his glasses has been before he has (implied) sex with Juliet. In this case, the removal of the glasses occurs just before David pins Alex in his final act of domination, which then culminates in the ultimate symbolic act of sexual penetration – David stabbing Alex with a knife (phallus).

NOTE: David is also pictured without glasses at the beginning of the film, where he is lying on his back, and halfway through the film, after he has dismembered Hugo in a symbolic act of violence against his own vulnerability.  In the first scene we hear his monologue; “I’m not ashamed, I’ve known love, I’ve known rejection. I’m not afraid to declare my feelings. Take trust for instance, or friendship. These are the important things in life. These are the things that matter, that help you on your way. If you can’t trust your friends well, then what then? What then? This could have been any city, but all the same.” It is unclear until the end, but it seems that the first time that we see David, right at the beginning, we are actually seeing him postmortem in the morgue. Meaning that the monologue is a lament on his life... (You're not ashamed of what, David? Being a bit gay, perhaps?)

Penetration with the Knife (Phallus)

At the climax of the movie, after David’s glasses have been removed, we arrive at David’s final act of domination over Alex.  David pins Alex to the floor by sitting on his stomach, with Alex’s legs pinned underneath his knees in a position that could be interpreted as sexual.  He then holds Alex by the throat, and stabs him in the shoulder, slicing clean through and penetrating the floor.  The act of stabbing (penetrating) a victim with a knife (phallus) is one often noted in analysis of horror films, as having sexual implications (again – I’d find some article about it here if I was a serious writer lol).

Before David can stab Alex again with a second knife, David is stabbed with a knife through the throat from behind by Juliet.  Thus Juliet, who has been a dominant character throughout the movie, is symbolically penetrating David with a phallus. Furthermore, the location of the stabbing in the throat and from behind, implies that David has now suffered, once again, an emasculation, just as he had just preformed on Alex.

David collapses and dies, just as Hugo did, from emasculation through the body barrier being broken from penetration. Thus, David’s identification with Hugo’s corpse and the vulnerability that it represented, is complete in this moment.

Juliet then kneels over Alex, taking up the same position that David had just occupied, and places her hand on the knife in Alex’s shoulder, pressing on it, thus taking David’s place as the one to dominate Alex.  She then removes her shoe, and in an act that mirrors the scene from the charity ball in which she dominated Alex by having him lick her shoe/foot, she uses her shoe to hit the knife three times, driving it deeper into his shoulder, further penetrating him.  Thus, in her final interaction with both David, and Alex, she has penetrated them.

As she puts her shoe back on, we can see inside of the refrigerator, where we once again see David’s glasses, recalling once again that this scene is coded as sexual in nature through the movie's visual language.

As the movie closes, we discover that Alex is alive (probably), and that he has hidden the money underneath the floorboard. In the ultimate irony of the movie, the character that spent the second half of the movie being coded as the submissive (homosexual receiving) partner, has come out on top, despite the other two character’s attempt to dominate (and kill) him.

Uhhh the credits roll, and they're all shown as they were in the first scene of the movie, smiling, laughing, and the love song "Happy Heart" plays...

[laugtherhyena]

Out of curiosity, Are you able to talk about all the characters in Danganronpa Another and what you do and don't like about them?

And out of curiosity, what is your opinion on the creator?

Be ready for a lot of rambling anon because you just opened the floodgates here.

Ok so first and foremost, I don't really feel much towards Linuj himself? That's sorta of a me thing where i tend to not care much about the creators of stuff i like so you'll never see me go like "wow i love this person they're fucking awesome" or "Goddamn that guy sucks" (unless said creator has done something genuinely awful, in that case obviously I'd dislike them) at most you see me go "that's wild" or complain about writing decisions and that's about it, none of that makes me inclined towards liking or disliking Linuj as a person. Tho as much as i rant about his games i gotta give credit where credit is due, the dude manages to make two whole games prey much all by himself and I respect that honestly.

Onto the opinions on the charcters, I'll just be doing the Dra folks because it's been years since i last went through Sdra2 and since I don't like that game nearly as much as a the first one i feel like whatever I've got to say about the characters would be really shallow in comparison to the first game's cast and that's like,, not fair? In my head?So yeah, sorry Sdra2 fans, maybe some other time.

Kiyoka Maki

Kiyoka is a character i genuinely love a lot because she feels like the most perfect execution of a first victim character in a Danganronpa type game, so much so that i am genuinely appalled that Linuj just randomly decided to pick her as the first victim like, what?? She fits that role so perfect that it genuinely feels as if she was created with the idea of being the first victim in mind rather than creating the character and only assigning the role later, from her personality, to character traits and even down to her design, everything works so well together that it's insane for me to think that he created the pinnacle of first victim characters pretty much accidentally.

Regardless, the way she was written and inserted into the story never fails to amaze me but i already went into more details about that here so go check that out cuz now i wanna take this time to talk about her as a standalone character instead of just her role in the story.

Because really, Kiyoka is such a funny character! She's just this silly girl that wants to chill out and hang out with her besties but she could also shoot you square in the face from several feet away. That immense discrepancy between her talent and personality is something i always found absolutely hilarious, tho if there's one thing i dislike about her is that i wish Linuj would have explained how she got into spining in the first place? Since it's such an out there talent that Kiyoka herself doesn't even like that I can't help but wonder how that happened. Not in a "the character NEEDED this" way, I'm just genuinely curious and I'd love to know how she got herself into that pickle.

Her interaction with everyone else in the cast are delight too, i love thinking about her and the sunshine trio going around and getting into stupid shenanigans and i think Linuj did a fantastic job writtring her and Ryutaro's relationship, it's a very realistic portrayal of sibling relationship which makes me really sad whenever i think back to ch6.5 and how Ryutaro will never be able to apologize to his sister. Fun fact! The ending segment of that chapter where we see him at Kiyoka's grave was the first time I've ever cried over anything that happened in these games.

Mitsuhiro Higa

Higa is in this weird spot where I don't dislike him but I don't like like him either, it's this limbo area where I'm way too indifferent to actively dislike him so he just exists there and I don't think about him like ever and that's pretty much it.

Seriously, it's hard for me to even think about way to say in terms of likes and dislikes when it comes to him because i just. Don't think about Higa-

One thing that sorta bothers me about him is how Linuj tried to make him a bit "heroic" in that one flashbacks sequence we see in Ch6 that shows how the class was captured. It's just comes out of nowhere and it's so jarring considering not even his FTEs try to paint Higa in a nicer light. It's also really weird to me how Kizuna, the other awful person in a similar vein as Higa, didn't got any of that treatment which is just,, off.

Kizuna Tomori

And speak of the devil! Kizuna Tomori my beloved, they could never make me hate you❤️

I actually got this question about Kizuna specifically a while ago, so go read that post so that I won have to repeat myself here.

Ayame Hatano

Do you guys know Dungeon meshi? Have you ever seen people talk about how they've improved their eating habits or are generally eating and cooking more often because of how much they like Senshi, whose main character traits revolve around proper nutrition and cooking? That's literally me but exercising frequently out of how much i love Ayame.

Honestly? I feel a little embarrassed getting to talk about my liking for her like this because this is a character that's only around for like 1/3 of the game at most? If you count flashbacks scenes and extra materials like the FTEs and the IF chapter. At the end of the day Ayame is by no means an incredibly complex character so I'm not here to ramble about how she's actually really a deep and intricately constructed character and you guys just don't see it because ultimately, she isn't.

The older i get the more i realize that this is the sort of character i tend to gravitate towards in any media i consume. Very rarely do i ever become this attached to characters who are super intricate and complex, let alone main characters, i feel like even simpler characters like Ayame who has pretty normal life in comparison to others from the cast and not a lot of crazy stuff going on in her backstory have things going for that the casual fan may not notice but are absolutely worth looking into.

And it's crazy because i like quite literally everything about Ayame from her character to her design, in fact, it was her design that initially brought my attention to her because Ayame's hair is one of my favorite hairstyles to see in any character design ever (specifically the little spiky parts on the side that stick up a little) so that immediately made me like this character a bit before i even knew anything about the game other than the death order and that it came before Sdra2. And for real, i think Ayame's design is really good, simple yet solid much like the character herself honestly.

While Ayame was always amongst one of my favorites characters from Dra, I was much more into Sdra2 back when i first got into the series so for a good while my liking for her wasn't as imense as it is nowadays, but it was definitely more than i liked any other character in the first game though i could never quite place my finger on why i liked her so damn much. It was only when i got back into the another series years later that i was hit with a wave of emotions as i remembered how much i adored this character and looking into her again with a better understanding of things made me finally piece together what made me love her so dearly. Spoiler alert, it went much beyond my dumb teenage self pointing at the phone screen and going like “she's just like me fr‼️” to the point that nowadays i really don't relate to Ayame as much as i used to back then, i guess a good term to describe her would be a comfort character of mine but that doesn't feel that right to me either? I think this level of attachment to a fictional character goes beyond that like she has a special place in my heart and I think by now I've rewatched Ch2 more than any other person in this fandom-

I think what i love the most about this character is the inherent contrast within her, one so prominent that it goes as far as blending into her sprites and expressions, she appears as a serious and maybe even a little intimidating person upon first impressions with Yuki and while those are indeed parts of her Ayame is also a caring girl with a huge heart she's just a little awkward.

She struggles quite often when it comes to communicating and socializing with her peers but i cannot stress enough just how much Ayame cares for her classmates even though she's not the best at showing that, and don't mean just Akane (though she's by far the person she was the closest to). In the Ch2 post trial we learn that Ayame had actually been affected pretty heavily by the first motive video the cast was given yet she kept it to herself which when taking into account how she wishes for the rest of the class to get along as she's leaving for her execution reads to me as Ayame genuinely caring for the others as well to the point she wanted them to see her as strong so that they could also remain strong amidst the despair, and if that isn't enough to show her care then just look at the fact that this girl went as far as reopening an old wound on her leg, one that brought her so much pain and despair in the past, as a means of apology to all of them in case she managed to win the class trial (+ i personally believe this was also a self inflicted punishment for killing Kizuna since Ayame is well aware that she could have tried to save her instead of leaving her to bleed out with a knife on her neck, but that's more on the interpretation side than in-game implications.)

And this is where the nuance of this character comes in because while Ayame is a good person at heart, and a courageous and determined one at that, she's not beyond being cruel and getting her hands dirty in order to protect those she loves, but amidst this desire there's also a heap of selfishness in her acts that Ayame herself admits in the post trial as being the reason why she didn't just admit she was the killer from the start. She killed to spare Akane's life from an unavoidable execution but at the same time she wasn't free from the urge to take that as a chance to leave hope's peak academy herself and that's just,, ough man i love when characters can be brutal yet kind, selfless and selfish at the same time and i think this conflicting aspect of hers is what truly makes this character special.

So much so that i feel like if you just look at chapter 2’s case purely from a “clean” perspective where Ayame wanted to save Akane and there's not much more to that then you're missing out on the most interesting aspect of both the trial and her character and if that's as deep as most viewers tend to interpret her actions then it's no wonder why she's commonly deemed not very memorable and tends to be reduced to her relationship with Akane.

Yes, what she did was noble and it truly showed just how much she cared for Akane when she was willing to give up her own life and dreams for the future if it meant sparing her from a terrible fate, but you can't just gloss over the fact that at the same time Ayame had the selfish desire to use that as an opportunity to escape, and most importantly in my opinion we shouldn't ignore the fact that this sacrifice came in the form or brutally murdering someone she had the opportunity to try saving. It's just as cruel as it is noble yet simultaneously intertwined with Ayame's own selfish desires and wow! This character makes me unwell❤️

So yeah, in conclusion i like Ayame a whole lot and i wish more people would acknowledge the fact that she's kinda of a little freak too.

Kakeru Yamaguchi

So Kakeru is a weird one, in concept i like him quite a bit! I love the gentle giant archetype and i think the idea of him switching into a more assertive and loud personality in trials is really cool, but much like Kakeru as a whole, that is pretty underutilized and results in a character that could have been so much better than what we actually got in game.

I get the feeling that Linuj didn't really know what to do with Kakeru, he had a handfuls of ideas but there was no proper execution for them and he so he was sorta just,, there for the ride. I think what bothers me the most is how dumb he is in the trials, sure, DR trials aren't at all similar to the real life ones he would have been used to going to due to his talent, but that doesn't excuse the fact that Kakeru is surprisingly dumb in both the trials he's in when he should at least be able to argue and bring more to the table than just be another one of the characters that goes "i don't get it" or says something blantantly wrong for Maeda to refute. + If he smarter than that then maybe he could have been one of the characters to oppose Tsurugi more directly, since he is a lawyer and Kinjo has his "all criminals are scum" mentality. It would have fit well in with the characters and storyline but because Kakeru is such a nothing burger that role ended up being passed to Kinji since he's one of the few smart characters in Dra.

Still, none of that makes me dislike him it's just a little disappointing and ultimately makes him one of the people I don't think about very often but he's still a pretty sweet dude who i think it's pretty silly and funny in his interaction with the others from the cast so yeah, he's neat :]

Kanata Inori

You know, Kanata wasn't a character i originally thought much about but the more i looked into her the more i started loving this character, simultaneously, i felt disapointed of how underutilized she was in the story, but I'll get into that later.

Kanata is just such a sweetheart and you can really feel how much she cares for everyone during her interactions with the cast during the storyline, she's also quite useful in the trials she was in seeing as she was able to perform autopsies and give Yuki information that he probably wouldn't have known otherwise which more often than not ends up being pretty decisive in figuring out who the culprit is. I also really enjoy her backstory and how Ando's kindness in working to save her life despite the borderline nonexistent chances of her making out alive inspired her in such a way that Kanata decided to pursue a medical career so she could bravely save people just like he saved her! They're one of the sweetest family relationships in this series in my opinion so much so i get so sad whenever i rewatch ch6.5 and get to the part where Ando talks about Kanata and how she's an amazing kid :(

Much like Kakeru, the one thing i dislike about this character is that she was ultimately underutilized in the story, but whereas Kakeru's came from the fact that his character is an unorganized mess of ideas, Kanata had things going for her, they just weren't shown through most of the time she was on screen for whatever reason. Seriously, why was she reduced to the emotional character who cries all the time? I get that she's very nice and cares a lot for her classmates but c'mon, she worked at a hospital she should be able to deal with the situation at least a little better instead of bawling her eyes out whenever something bad happened.

Kanata hit a yakuza member on the head in the middle of a gang fight so that she could treat him properly once, she can be fierce and assertive when the situation calls for it, so why did she never do that in the main story?? This is absolutely baffling to me because it genuinely does such a disservice to the character and can end up driving people away from learning more about, like if i wasn't writing for an AU where she was a major character during the time she was alive I don't think i would have looked deeper into this character and learned how incredible she is because the main story made me think of her as just "the emotional one who cries all the time".

I also feel like it was a missed opportunity to not have her being the one who died trying to save the other ch3 victim. Like c'mon, her backstory shows us how she can often put other's safety before her own, that would have fit so well.

Kinji Uehara

Just like Kakeru, he's also a character I don't think much about but that comes from personal preference rather than feeling as if he was underutilized in story. Kinji just isn't the kind of character i tend to pay much mind to and that's ok! I do think he's a pretty interesting character, with his deal with the orphanage and also being the traitor in the game, i also enjoy how he always made his opinions clear to everyone like when he left the group because he didn't agree with Tsurugi's way of going about things and how he stood up against him and called him out in his hypocrisy in the Ch3 post trial.

If there's one thing I don't like about Kinji's is how linuj structured his murder plan, his method are SO violent for a character who had a noble motive and wasn't just some kind of crazy serial killer. Kakeru's make sense, since he was trying to stop him as fast as he could but i just don't understand why he still went on to kill Kanata when he had already killed someone (which was all he needed to do according to his deal with Monokuma), we're never told that Kanata saw it was him who attacked her, so why did ge insist on killing her anyway? Just because he had the plan set already? A plan that was also uncharacteristically brutal for a guy like Kinji. Seriously, when i first spoiled myself of all deaths in this game i got to Ch3 and thought "oh so he's the token crazy serial killer character" and while i was happy that he wasn't that, it's jarring that he got so violent out of nowhere + his breakdown in trial also feels pretty out of character in my eyes.

Haruhiko Kobashikawa

See, Haru is a cool guy, him Satsuki and Teruya (for a good part of the game) are essentially DRA's comedic relief characters and I've always had a big soft spot for those in DR games, when my faves inevitably die really early it's there character's inclusion that keep me watching the rest of the game!.. And then they die and struggle to get myself to watch the final chapters because most of the remaining characters are people I don't care nearly as much for- (thank god Ch5 has Mikako and Teruya survived the whole game)

But the thing is, when it comes to Haru himself I don't actually have much to say about him? He reminds me a lot of Kiyoka in the sense that he's a pretty normal guy for his age with a really out there talent that he's crazy good at. I think where Haruhiko really shines is not in his actions during Ch4 (tho that was amazing too, i can totally see why this is so many people's favorite chapter/case in Dra), but in his interactions with the other character because pretty much every single one of them are just so endearing to watch, regardless he's just being a dumbass or getting into trouble, in fact! I quite enjoy how he's a little hot headed (not sure if that's the right term)? The dude stands his ground and is not afraid of getting into fights if something's bothering him a lot, tho his own shortcomings and paranoia can often get the best out of him and he'll be sorta of an asshole and makes him feel so real to me, like he's just some dumb teen bound to make mistakes in a dangerous situation like the killing game and i really like that.

If i had to think of one thing i dislike about him I'd say is how he was characterized in the Ch6 flashback segment, like, by that point him and Satsuki are a couple right? So why was he trying to hit on the random Kisaragi fundation worker? That's not necessary out of character for him, but it's really weird that he's doing that despite havinya girlfriend of her own (smh Haru, i expected better from you).

Satsuki Iranami

Satsuki isn't a character i talk about a lot but i like her a lot! Not only is she a genuinly funny character who i love seeing her interactions with pretty much anyone in the cast, but i find her relationship with her family and the way she goes about it really interesting. I think anyone who've seen Satsuki's FTEs can tell that her family is insanely abusive, creating an environment of making their kids compete and compare themselves to one another on who's the best clown and treating Satsuki like absolutely garbage since she's considered the worst of them. Hell, I'm pretty sure they only sent her to hope's peak so they could get rid of her since she was of age to attend which is just,, damn. This is a fucking awful place to grow up in.

Yet Satsuki herself isn't a sad person nor do we ever see her get really depressed and upset when talking about her family, at most she looks a little sad and, unfortunately, agrees with them that she's the worst of the clows while sticking to not crying or sulking about it, instead she goes on to keep being silly and joking around which has always striked me more as a coping mechanism instead of "Satsuki it's too stupid to realize how terrible her family situation is" because as goofy as she is i do get the feeling that she knows her situation is absolutely awful but doesn't know a great way to cope with it other than what she's already doing.

And this seeing this strange coping mechanism explains so much about the way she acts in the killing game, she keeps joking around even during trials or when faces with murder motives because she just wants to remain happy and tries to see if maybe doing so will lift up the spirits of her classmates as well. Not saying that this is by any means a healthy coping mechanism, like, no, Satsuki girl it's okay to cry and be upset over terrible things, be it her family situation or the killing game, but this is nevertheless the most fascinating aspect of this character to me.

And once you take that into accound, it makes perfect sense why she was choosen to be sorta the "hope beacon" of the cast in Ch4 because really, that's just what Satsuki's Been doing the whole game. Tho i do wish this aspect was given more of a spotlight even in Ch4 itself because on first watch (without going through her FTEs) it felt a little jarring to me how Satsuki "randomly" became really important, but i consider that more of a nippick in comparison to other things I've complained about here.

Yamato Kisaragi

Oh right, this guy! He exists in the same indifference limbo as Higa but only because I don't think about him that often (so much so i forget he exists sometimes) because whenever i do think about him he gets violently pushed onto the active dislike section. Which is really funny to me considering Yamato is the perfect and super cool genius guy of the first another game, and that's a big point on my lack of care for him. The game insists in telling us how awesome Yamato is, how all of his classmates like him and how much of a hero he was for try to save them both in the Ch6 flashback and in the IF chapter, and i think that's exactly what made me feel such insane annoyance/repulse towards this character to the point that I'll see him and just groan and roll my eyes.

He's a character the story actively wants us to like but he's just so bland and generic that this push just annoys me and i feel nothing towards him as a person, the fact that we barely see him be himself in the game doesn't help either since he died almost as soon as he's introduced and all we have are flashbacks, the other character's opinions/memories of the guy and his Ai version. And even when we do see Kisaragi be himself in the IF chapter, his role there is like,, textbook generic anime nice guy protag and i just feel?? Insane???

His bland ass is like a piece of wet cardboard to me that i see people point at and act like it's the coolest thing ever and i just look down at it in my hands and think, i don't get it. I don't see it.

And don't even get me started on how Linuj fucking side lined Mikako's role and character in favor of giving this guy the spotlight by having him come in as if he's the goddamn saving grace of the killing game and solve all the mysteries that were set and build up BY ANOTHER CHARACTER, because nooooooooooo we can't have Mikako do that, it has to be Kisaragi because he's THE. GUY. EVER. ISN'T HE JUST SO FUCKING AMAZING EVERYONE????????

This makes me. Genuinely so mad and since I'd rather not pop a vein while raging as i write this go look at this post if you wanted to see me ramble a little more on this part.

Wow, after this it's tricky for me to even think of a positive to say, uhm.. I guess his relationship with Mikako is nice? I do like how it genuinely seems like they care a lot for one another tho sometimes this care can come off the wrong way and lead to arguments between the two, like how Yamato was avoiding and being rude to Mikako during that flashback sequence i keep mentioning over and over even tho she could tell there was something wrong with him and just wanted to help. They're sweet and tragic when thinking about how they met their ends but I can't feel much on that regard seeing how many,, feelings. I have towards Yamato.

Mikako Kurokawa

You know i feel like we as a fandom don't talk enough about the horror that Mikako goes through during the killing game. She never lost her memories, she remembers these people being friends and having strong bonds with other another and she's just forced to sit there and watch as they forget everything and murder each other without knowing of what she knows, and if Mikako does as much as try to say a few words regarding what she knows her head already starts splitting into two and she'll have headaches so bad they'll make her pass out and puke blood. And that's without counting the fact that she's left completely in the dark about her brother's whereabouts through most of the game and when she does reunite with him is in the worst way possible because Yamato’s mental state is even worse than hers and he dies not long after with her being blamed for his murder. She had the worst time ever in that game and i feel like it really isn't an understatement to say she suffered through the whole thing.

And that's where Mikako's spirit really shines because despite all the pain she went through, both physical and mental, she always held onto hope and wanted to help her friends even if her options were incredibly limited. She cared for each and every single one of them to the point she even wanted to try and save Yuki and Akane even though she knew they were the masterminds because she thought that with their memories erased they could embrace hope as well and come out of that as better people, and in her very last moments she still wished to help the remaining characters and kept talking even though she knew it would kill her. That's such an insane level of courage and determination from her part that it never fails to impress me.

She's such an insane character I can't help but feel like we were robbed when she died, especially when it happened before she could unravel all the mysteries Mikako had help build up through the entirety of the game and instead we get her amazing and so cool brother doing that and getting all the spotlight instead of Mikako herself.. How nice.

But i think what bothers me the most about her death is that it was so?? Unnecessary?? Like, what did it do for her character arc? It feels like she died more because Linuj wanted her to die than because it felt fitting for the character’s journey to end where it did, and you can't tell me it wouldn't have been awesome to see her in Sdra2 and how she'd react learning that her shitty mother was one of the reason why that second killing game happened in the first place.

I explained my thoughts on Mikako's death in a nicer manner in this other post so please go check that out because I will never not be upset over her death in this game, especially when her execution ends in a way that she would have survived if she wasn't already dead by the time started.. that just felt like an unnecessary fuck you from Linuj’s part-

Akane Taira

Another character I've rambled about in the past and so don't feel like reiterating it all here (this post is getting REALLY long), so yeah, check it out but tldr, I think Akane is a really cool character and i think writing her so frequently in -2+2 has made me not only get a better understanding of her character but also like her a lot more too!

Yuki Maeda

As y'all know, Dra Yuki>>>>>>>>Sdra2 Yuki always and forever in my heart ❤️

Seriously, for someone who tends to really not give a fuck about the protagonists in DR games it genuinely surprised me how much i grew to enjoy Dra Yuki after i went through the game's full translation and realized “Woah! He isn't the same universal punching back as the Sdra2 one!” Because prior to that i was under the impression that both Yuki acted and were treated the exact same by the game's storyline and as you can probably tell I don't like Sdra2 Yuki all that much.

Dra Yuki differs because not only does the game not try to force the horrors upon him constantly but he feels very human in his actions, he's just some guy not the embodiment of good or a hope hype man so he's bound to get a little sick of this shit sometimes and make mistakes. We see this during Ch4 in his argument with Akane and also in Ch2 where he decides to break the groups trust by reading the secret note anyway which later comes back to bite him when the cast finds out, and this really stood out to me and made him instantly more interesting than other protags in my eyes, although I'm pretty sure this nuance of his character was done as a way to foreshadow his reveal as Utsuro/The mastermind.

Either ways, it ended up creating one of my favorite protags of any DR type game + i do really like the twist of the protagonists being the mastermind at the end of the day, it was something super unique by the time Dra first came out and it's still something i haven't seen be done in any other fangan (tho to be fair I don't look much into those anymore nowadays-)

It's hard for me to pick something i dislike about him since he's overall just a neat guy in my eyes but if i had to pull something I'd say he constantly taking Tsurugi's side feels kinda annoying at times? Sometimes it feels like he just glosses over some of the nasty stuff Kinjo says, like when he questioned why the group for kicking out Kinjo in Ch3 as if he hadn't just told Akane to kill herself right after she saw her best friend be grinded into minced meat. Like okay buddy i get that you see good in Kinjo and you wanna help him, but he really deserves to get a good slap in the face sometimes and the others are rightfully mad at him.

Utsuro

Not much to say here honestly, i feel like i like the idea of Utsuro and what he brings to the table in terms of world building, how his presence and powers affect the others around him and even the story itself. The idea of someone with insane luck powers he can't control that made his life miserable since he could achive literally anything with no effort and everyone he met only wanted to exploit said powers which led to him falling into the despair ideology since by that point it was the one thing that made him feel something it's just so,, wow man, thats some crazy angst and such an unique way to explore the borderline magical luck that exist in the DR franchise.

I love thinking about him in that vein but as a character?.. Erh, i really don't care nor think much about Utsuro at all. Which in a way, i suppose isn't all that different from how the world saw him in universe? How ironic.

Teruya Otori

By far my favorite out of the survious though I'm not sure how to explain why i like Teruya so much? I feel like part of it comes from the soft spot for comedic relief characters i talked about earlier and the rest from the way he was written in the story.

It's crazy because i feel like Teruya's writing in itself really highlights the changes in the way Linuj viewed and went about characters by the time he started working on Sdra2, i feel like if Teruya was a character that originated from that game he would be portrayed as a bad person who you shouldn't sympathize for even though he has his reasonings for acting the way he does sometimes, sorta like how Linuj tends to punish Hibiki even tho she was the bigger victim at the end of the way.

Just like Haruhiko he feels very real to me and his character arc through Dra has gotta be one of my favorites. Teruya is not a bad person, he's a good kid at heart but the severity of the situation they're in and the stuff that gets forced upon him gets to him a lot which leads to Teruya lashing out at his friends and doing some pretty bad things here and there, yet he's never portrayed as an awful person that shouldn't be forgiven or shit and he does change for the better at the end of the day. He went through a lot and came out bigger and stronger on the other side and is a shame this kind of character arc isn't properly used in Sdra2 since Linuj's mentality became so black and white out of nowhere.

I love this little guy, I'm so glad he survived the killing game though unfortunately the same can't be said for the second one but honestly? Teruya's entire role in that story was such a mess, and sometimes even a detriment to his character in my opinion, that nowadays I can't even feel that sad over his death anymore. While there are a handful of things that bother me a lot about it, like the amnesia plot just because Linuj seems to hate actually building up to things in that game and his entire role in ch4 (seriously. What was that. Why.), i think what i dislike the most is the fact that he ended up being permadead while Rei escaped the killing game fine.

I know Linuj actually gave a good explanation to why it happened (unlike Mikako's barely explained sudden brain explosion), but still, it feels like such a mean thing to do to someone who's been through so much and still tried his hardest while being in a dangerous and unpredictable situation. My guy was done dirty in that game.

Rei Mekaru and Tsurugi Kinjo

Grouping these two together because i feel like my opinions on both of them are not only pretty much the same but they also stem from the same place, so yeah-

Don't get me wrong, these two are very interesting characters and I'd argue they're one of the more complex ones in the cast as well, not only because they make it through both games but also because of their own personal backgrounds and how that shaky upbringing affected the kind of person they became as they grew older. With Tsurugi living under his father's black and white ideologies of criminals being deserving of death no matter what and falling deeper and deeper into that the more friends he loses during his life and Rei being abandoned (albeit unintentionally?) by her parents at an young age which led to her working hard to get where she's at now which not only made her quite used to being on her own but also loathe those who "take the easy" way and want all awnsers handed to them on a silver platter, which explains why she's so rude to the rest of the cast since she wants them to figure out stuff on their own too.

There's a lot to look into these characters and it makes sense why so many people like them a lot, I'm however not the biggest fan of this type of character (tho i feel like that lies more in their personality than anything else?) so i never looked much into them before i started writing DRA -2+2 and decided to look into everyone in the cast to get a better grip on their characters. And man, writing these two really did give me a newfound appreciation and love for them! They're such fun characters to write and have interacting with the rest of the cast. Tho i wouldn't by any means say i have a proper understanding of them, i feel like that's a bit out of my league still.

If there's one thing I'm not a big fan if is that i wish we would have seen more of those two in Sdra2 instead of them just having a major role in Ch6, AKA; the messiest chapter in this entire series. Like, would it have hurt that badly to not have the Void theather segments and instead cut to small scenes at the Kisaragi foundation showing what the characters are doing and how they're reacting and planing to go about interfering with Mikado's killing game? I feel like that would have been so much more interesting than watching Emma bother Hajime with bad puns while Nikei and Iroha continue being the same assholes they've always been + it would have made Tsurugi's backwards development less of a shock to see whenever Ch6 actually rolls around.

Anyways, to wrap up this massive post here's what i hope will be the definitive Carol Dra cast tierlist

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VIIII.

GIF CREDIT

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: After months of dancing around their emotions, Javier and Paloma finally address the tension between them head-on.

WORD COUNT: ~9.2k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: smuttt, bulge riding, dry humping, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being an asshole, angst, crime talk (if it's not accurate don't @ me), descriptions of violence against women, vomit mention, slut shaming(?), detective!javi is very gorgeous ME, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: we did it… we did it joe !! javi and OFC finally [REDACTED] !! thank u to everyone who has been keepin up w this foolery so far, it makes my lil heart happy to see engagement < 3 also wanna say that years of watching criminal minds is finally starting to pay off and i rly hope u guys are enjoying the crime aspect of the plot because i'm havin A LOT of fun writing and developing it !! shit is gonna get twisted and intricate so brace yourselves for where we're about to go !!! the smut in this chapter is heavily inspired by touch it by ariana grande so i def recommend giving that a listen bc i feel like it just fits their vibe so well (i may or may not have used some of the lyrics in the dialogue.. oop!) last thing sooo irrelevant but mayor abbott looks like jonathan bailey (bridgerton hive RISE!!) in my head so take that as u will xoxo always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

As the sun casts its golden rays over the quiet outskirts of town, a grim discovery awaits the two men. The body of Jessica Valdez, the young girl reported missing from their neighboring town, lies lifeless in a shallow ditch. Javier stands beside Sheriff Leighton, their expressions grave as they survey the scene before them.

Reporters and curious onlookers have gathered, drawn by the spectacle of flashing lights and the somber atmosphere. A small group of people whisper amongst themselves, their hushed tones mingling with the distant sound of camera shutters clicking.

Romeo’s authoritative presence looms beside him, a pillar of strength in the face of another tragedy. His eyes narrow as they push through the gathered crowd, commanding respect and order in the chaotic scene.

They duck beneath the yellow crime scene tape, ignoring the questions being hurled at them by the press.

“Are there any indications of a motive for this murder?” 

“Is this connected to the similar incidents in the area recently?”

“Is there anything the public can do to assist with the investigation?”

Javier’s stomach churns with sorrow as he takes in the sight. The body lies face down and sprawled in the dirt. He clenches his jaw, steeling himself against the wave of frustration threatening to overwhelm him.

Another failure on their behalf and all he can think about is the kiss shared between him and Paloma.

“Talk to us, Cecelia.” 

“Well, at first glance: the body is still fairly warm so she was alive a few hours ago. It looks like she was held captive somewhere due to the bruising on her wrists and ankles. There are signs of malnourishment and she has smaller injuries scattered throughout her body. I won’t know more details until I do the autopsy.” The coroner answers before continuing,” Her chest is completely slashed through, just like all the others. Still our guy. Or girl–– you never know nowadays.” 

Javier’s jaw flexes out of exasperation, mirroring the heavy sigh that escapes the sheriff’s lips. The weight of this repeated revelation settles over them like a suffocating blanket, casting a shadow over their efforts to uncover the truth.

Despite their tireless pursuit of justice, they find themselves no closer to catching the culprit or unraveling the mystery shrouding these towns. It’s fucking infuriating. 

Amidst the tangled threads of his personal life, Javier has momentarily lost sight of his purpose for being here. He has been too immersed in his own character transformation and entanglement with Paloma, overlooking the harrowing reality unfolding around him: innocent women continuing to fall victim to brutal, senseless violence.

The gravity of his oversight has a mixture of guilt and despair settling deep within his chest. 

Javier prides himself on his prowess, his ability to navigate the most intricate of cases and weather the toughest of storms. As a seasoned field agent with a string of accolades to his name (some undeserved, others very well deserved), he’s faced down challenges that would make others quiver.

Yet here he stands, feeling utterly impotent in the face of this whodunit in the confines of a sleepy town.

It gnaws at him, this sense of inadequacy, like a persistent itch he can’t scratch. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, a humbling reminder of the unpredictable nature of crime and the limits of his own expertise.

He needs to be better.

“What’s interestin’, though, is this,” She stands, motioning for the two men to follow her and they share a look before wordlessly complying. Cecelia hands them both a pair of latex gloves, instructing them to put them on.

They make it a few feet away from Jessica’s body and that’s when Javi sees it.

“Is that vomit?” 

Cecelia nods, “It is. I’m betting it’s hers. The interestin’ bit isn’t that she vomited–– but the contents. Take a look. Tell me what you see.” 

Javier is the first to kneel with Romeo looking over his shoulder. He eyes the evidence, pushing his aviators to the top of his head, making out the larger chunks in the grossly colored bile.

He can’t discern what it is right away and Cecelia encourages him to use his hands, which has him looking at her ludicrously and muttering how gross this shit is in Spanish before doing as suggested.

Poking his latex clad fingers in the mess, Javi analyzes the contents and that’s when he sees a symbol marked in ink on one of the scraps.

“It’s flesh. Human flesh.” 

Shit. He sees it now, the mark is a tattoo and he quickly barks out an order to have one of the lingering deputies come take pictures of it.

“Son of a bitch is feedin’ people… people. Would explain Nina Thorton’s missin’ leg. What the fuck is goin’ on here?” The sheriff sounds defeated and Javier just remains silent as he mulls over all this new information that’s been revealed.

Kidnapped, held hostage, fed human flesh, murdered, dumped.

All the other victims up until now have only been taken then killed. None of them held captive for long. Not all of them consuming flesh.

But then there’s Nina and her postmortem severed leg.

Fuck, the answer is right there, interwoven in the intricacies and lack of details in the cases. 

No more fucking around, no more helping girls sneak back inside their homes, no more distractions. He has to focus on doing his job.

He will catch who did this, he will prove himself to be qualified to do what he was brought here to do.

Javier remains kneeled and deep in thought as Romeo and Cecelia continue on with their observations. He looks around to study their surroundings, wondering if there is anything else that is right in front of him that he cannot see.

“Three outta five have been brunettes around the same age. I think that’s something worth considering now,” Javier breaks up the conversation betweens the sheriff and coroner, both of them turning to look at him as he stands from his kneeled position and begins to take off the gloves,” Seems like they found their type. There’s got to be a purpose for the consistent victimology.” 

They’ve migrated over to Jessica’s body now, both men doing last minute look overs before she is transported back to her hometown for her parents to identify and for Cecelia to preform the autopsy.

When a deputy comes over to take the last bits of photo evidence, he looks sickly but Javier ignores it. It’s not until her body is turned upright, exposing her mauled chest, that has the younger officer hurling over and throwing up, some of it landing on Romeo.

“God fuckin’ damn it, Andrews, spew that shit elsewhere. Fuck, not only are you contaminatin’ the crime scene but you got it all over my damn pants.” 

The sheriff goes on a tangent, chewing the officer out and threatening to suspend him for two weeks with no pay. It’s harsh, Javier will admit, but he doesn’t say anything, remaining stoic with his arms crossed against his chest as he watches it unfold.

Eventually, everyone trickles out. Even the nosey reporters and townies. Javier wants to stay, walk around the area to see if anything else was left behind. Maybe something was dropped or buried nearby, and while they had assured him that others have already done a thorough search–– he’d feel more comfortable if he did it himself.

“Ya mind stoppin’ by my place so I can change? Kid ruined these.” Romeo’s gruff voice has Javier losing his train of thought, too engrossed in looking out into the vast area of the woods as the sun slowly begins to set. 

Right, they arrived together, driving from the station in Javier’s cruiser.

“Sure.” He replies plainly. His plans for the evening now include getting Romeo situated so that he can come back here and investigate all on his own. He might even drive to Fayette to retrieve the autopsy from Cecelia as soon as she completes it.

With the Leighton home being on the other side of town, this gives the two men time to talk the case over; going over all that they know and all that they’ve discovered. Romeo confides in Javier about feeling inadequate about the way he’s doing his job and, in a turn of events, Javier does the same. In his own way.

The mutual understanding is a relief, though the guilt of his kiss with Paloma is palpable and it makes Javi feel like a fraud.

Across from him is a man who has extended nothing but kindness and trust, offering camaraderie and a sense of belonging. Yet, despite this, Javier found himself drawn to his daughter in a way that was both exhilarating and forbidden.

It feels wrong, achingly so. A bitter realization that despite their mutual longing, their connection can never be fully realized. It’s a harsh wake up call: if he truly wants to better himself, he must shed his bad habit of losing himself in women and distance himself from her.

What a discomforting prospect, the inevitable separation. But he knows it’s the only way forward. He understands that in time, they will both resign themselves to the reality of their infatuation.

It’s a familiar ache, this sense of inevitability that haunts his romantic endeavors like a relentless specter. Javier knows the drill all too well; it’s not his first rodeo in navigating the treacherous terrain of severing emotional ties.

His love life feels like a series of missteps, a cursed labyrinth from which there’s no escape. Despite the initial allure of each new romance, he’s come to anticipate the eventual descent into disappointment. No matter how promising the beginning, the journey always seems to lead to the same desolate destination.

With him hurting them beyond measure.

Fuck the idea of reinventing himself here. He can find peace and monotony anywhere else.

Javier will follow through with his responsibilities, and the second he’s able to peel out of Seminary–– he will, leaving her behind as a bittersweet memory. A beautiful yet unattainable dream that he will carry with him for years to come.

As they pull in to the Leighton residence, he sees the woman that lives in his head perched up on the fence that surrounds the immediate area. Her baggy jeans are hanging low, exposing the sheer fabric of her underwear. She turns as she hears the sound of a car approaching, and her lips pull into a smile once she sees who it is.

Paloma fully expected to wake up the following day filled with regret and plagued by a hangover. The only thing she experienced was the latter, but it had quickly been nursed by a greasy breakfast and some yard work.

Javier had kissed her back, that was enough to feed into her delusions that he does want her. All inhibitions have been dropped, she’s prepared to lay herself out for him–– to tell him that she’s wanted him since the moment they met.

It might seem premature, an impulsive plunge into the uncertainty of his reaction to her feelings, but the tender memory of their shared kiss eclipses all rational thought. She finds herself irresistibly drawn to the possibility of something more, unable to resist the pull of her emotions.

His touch still lingers on her skin. His hands tracing the curves of her body with a hunger that left her breathless. She can still feel the way he had grabbed her ass then gripped onto her hips, pulling her closer to him.

But it was his mouth that left the strongest impression. His tongue had explored the depths of hers, tasting and teasing her with a ferocity that made her feel alive.

In that moment, she had felt desired, cherished, and wanted. It was a feeling that she hadn’t realized she craved so badly until last night. She knew that she would never be able to forget that kiss and the way it had made her feel.

She’s giddy, her excitement bubbling up like fizzy soda, reminiscent of the first time she ever kissed a boy. Except Javier isn’t a boy–– he’s a man. A man whose expertise and skill are a potent aphrodisiac, heightening her arousal to levels she never thought possible.

She’s been hot for him all day, even touched herself to the memory of his soft lips, the tickle of his mustache, against hers then imagining them everywhere else. The mere thought of it is enough to send her heart racing, and she knows that nothing will satisfy her until she has him in her arms again.

Romeo gets out the car, muttering that he’d be right back and Javi opts to stay put. He does not want to speak to her, knowing that the second he gazes into those beautiful brown eyes–– he’d buckle. He needs to build animosity between them; it’s the only way for them to definitively be able to separate from one another.

But she doesn’t make it easy, of course. Because the second her father is inside, she’s practically skipping over to the driver’s side of the cruiser.

“Hello officer. Here to bring me in for all those crimes I committed last night?” She teases as she leans her forearms against the rolled down window, the cowgirl hat perched on her head complimenting her so well.

Javier swallows thickly, taking a lengthy drag of the familiar cigarette between his lips. He can’t outright ignore her so he decides to be short instead.

“M’not here for games, Paloma.” 

She’s taken aback by his tone, her smile faltering.

“Well excuse me for tryin’ to make conversation. Wasn’t aware that you’re in a mood today.” 

There’s a pause despite her attempt to add a teasing tone to her words to lighten him up. It falls flat.

“And I’m not looking to have a conversation. You can go.” 

Her brows cinch together at his dismissal, this is not how she was expecting for this to go.

“What’s goin on’? Is this because we… because of the kiss last night?” She lowers her voice towards the end, red blooming across her cheeks but she keeps her composure.

“Jesus,” Javier chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head. It sends a sharp pang through her heart.” Why do you always think that’s the fuckin’ problem whenever I don’t want to talk to you? For someone who claims to be a grown woman all the time, you sure as shit don’t act like it.” 

She stills, the buoyant confidence that had propelled her toward him evaporating in an instant, replaced by a wave of hurt at his unexpected chilliness. What has gotten into him?

“Drop it and move on, Paloma. We just found Jessica Valdez’s body dumped out in a ditch. S’not the time to be hung up on a damn kiss.” 

The sound of the screen door shutting close breaks her away from him and the trance she’d seemingly gone into. Another victim, another tragedy to confront… and here she is acting like a smitten teenaged girl.

The urge to cower and crawl into herself, to surrender to the overwhelming embarrassment and sorrow, threatens to engulf her entirely. She remains silent, fighting back the surge of frustrated, angry tears as she pushes off the car and trudges back toward the house.

Javier exhales heavily once she strides away without a word, feeling a weight settle on his shoulders. He had braced himself for a snide remark or some form of verbal retaliation, but her silent departure was far more impactful.

“I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up.” Her father murmurs as he passes her, planting a tender kiss atop her head. He lingers there for a moment but she doesn’t question it, knowing it’s because of what they found today and she doesn’t even mind that he hasn’t told her about it.

As he breaks away, she conjures up a semblance of a genuine smile, masking her turmoil, and nods before he affectionately pinches her nose and continues on his way.

She doesn’t look back, she doesn’t cry or go inside–– instead she picks up her discarded gardening gloves and proceeds to channel her energy into the simple act of mowing the grass.

She finds herself alone at the open bar as the party continues in full swing. It’s been days since Jessica’s death, and the tense conversation she had with Javier still lingers in her mind.

“Drop it and move on, Paloma.” 

Unlike the last time they went without speaking, there is much more tension between them now. The worst part about it is having to act as if nothing is wrong in the presence of her father.

No daddy, everything’s fine! It’s not like I threw myself at your co-worker not once, but twice and both times he made me feel like a fucking idiot!

She lets out a disdainful sigh, her fingers curling around the glass containing her coveted cherry root beer since she’s decided to part ways with alcohol and any other substance for the time being.

The two men are busy mingling with other guests and have been since the moment they arrived. Despite her efforts to divert her gaze elsewhere, her eyes keep involuntarily drifting towards Javier’s broad figure.

The event had called for formal attire, so when he strode in wearing a meticulously tailored all-black suit, her breath caught in her throat. The sharp lines of his outfit, coupled with the crispness of his button-down and the matching tie, made her momentarily forget why she was so upset with him. He looked too damn handsome.

It’s brutal how the things we desire most often seem to radiate the brightest when they’re just out of reach.

Observing him mingle effortlessly with others is entertaining. Contrary to her expectations, he appears completely at ease in this bustling social setting, a far cry from the disdain he expressed for large gatherings that morning in his kitchen.

He’s acting a lot more extroverted and… smile-y. It pisses her off as much as it melts her heart.

They make their way over to her and she makes a point to not even look in his direction. Though now she’s caught between her father and Javier as they order another round of drinks. 

It really doesn’t help that they’re shoulder to shoulder. The heady aroma of his cologne, laced with the familiar tang of cigarette smoke and the faint hint of whiskey, infiltrates her senses, making it impossible to outright ignore him.

Javier Peña is like a blazing beacon and she’s the foolish moth drawn inexplicably closer to his flame. But she knows all too well the danger of getting too close, like a moth singed by the heat, the allure of his brightness can be killer.

Javier had assumed that with news of Jessica being found dead, their attendance to this party wouldn’t be mandatory.

Well, he thought wrong. It is a cruel reminder of how life goes on, even when tragedy strikes.

Another dead girl, another over-the-top party.

Which is why he’ll give it an hour–– tops–– to shake whoever’s hand and meet whoever else, then he’d leave. It’s a simple plan, the only thing making it difficult for him is his proximity to the woman he’s desperately trying to cut ties with.

She looks so beautiful tonight, donning a calf length simple black dress that hugs all her curves just right. 

“There they are! My Law and Order! Y’all keepin’ the townsfolk in line?” The boastful voice of Mayor Jonah Abbott draws near and Javier suppresses the urge to roll his eyes.

Foolish of him to think he wouldn’t have to interact with the titular birthday boy tonight.

He greets both men with a firm handshake, and when his attention turns to her; Javier has to drown the subtle spark of frustration with his drink at the way his eyes rake over her body.

“And of course, Miss. Paloma. They say a smile is worth a thousand words, but yours? It’s worth a million dreams.” He brings her hand up to his lips to plant a kiss against her knuckles and all she does is offer him a polite smile. Here we go…

“Mr. Abbott—” 

“Jonah, sweetheart. Been tellin’ you to call me that for years now.” 

Her smile threatens to twitch out of annoyance, “Jonah. Happy Birthday. Thank you for invitin’ us to your home.” 

“Always a pleasure to have you ’round. I heard about your performance up in Dallas. Shame I missed it. Woulda loved to hear that beautiful voice of yours and seen you up on that stage.” 

Javier can’t help the subtle grunt he emits at the mayor’s overt flirtation, causing for her to just briefly glance up at him with a bemused flash crossing her stare.

The familiarity of Jonah’s behavior strikes a chord within him. Once upon a time, Javier was just like this–– an arrogant charmer with a penchant for flirting with anything in a skirt. Standing here amidst the other man’s smooth talk, he sees through the facade with clarity born of experience.

It’s a performance, an act to charm his way in between Paloma’s legs, though Javi can clearly see that she’s not falling for it. Does Romeo notice it too, he wonders? Or is he blinded by the mayor’s charisma, unable to see that this man clearly wants to sleep with his daughter.

Then again, Javier’s opinion on this is irrelevant and invalid since he too has been in the same predicament since meeting her. At least he didn’t do it blatantly in front of the sheriff’s face.

Or, in a turn of events, perhaps Romeo doesn’t give a damn. Jonah Abbott presents himself as a viable candidate to be with his daughter; a young politician with deep pockets and a keen interest in her.

Javier can’t shake off the mental picture of the man’s wedding ring adorning her finger, of her transforming into the perfect, submissive wife, tending to the household and filling this place with snot nosed kids. But such a scenario doesn’t align with her fiery and headstrong nature. She’s far too independent and spirited to succumb to the confines of domesticity, particularly for a man like Jonah.

Then again, why the fuck does he care?

“Well as you know, I do two shows every weekend at The Whiskey Fox. Could always stop by and see me and the band.” 

“A busy man like myself always has a full schedule. Though I reckon I should make some time to be out in the community. Wouldn’t hurt to stop by for dinner and a show.” 

He winks at her and of course he does it when her father turns to order himself another drink. Javier’s jaw flinches.

“Now Romeo, why have you been keepin’ this badass motherfucker hidden from me? I knew we had someone new joinin’ the force but I didn’t think it’d be the Javier Peña. A goddamn American hero— right here in Seminary, Texas!” 

As Jonah begins his praises, pairing them with a harsh slap to his shoulder, Javier remains cool and calculating. He refuses to be swayed by empty compliments.

Meanwhile, she breathes a silent sigh of relief as the spotlight shifts away from her, and she finds it amusing at how everyone seems to talk about Javier.

A hero. A true patriot. Such a brave soul for fightin’ the war on drugs on Uncle Sam’s behalf.

If only they knew the truth––if they had even a glimpse of the darkness he’s had to face, they wouldn’t be so quick to idolize him.

The label of hero, bestowed upon him since the demise of Escobar, sits uneasily on his shoulders. The adulation feels like a burden he never asked for, a title he never wanted. It’s a reminder of the complexities of his past, the mistakes he’s made, and the ghosts that continue to haunt him. Javi despises the word, resenting the way it overshadows his true self and the countless sins he harbors in silence.

“Gotta keep ’em humble. Keeps the head on straight.” Romeo banters back, pulling one of those haughty, rich men laughs from the mayor. 

She cringes at the pretentiousness echoing in the air.

The men break out into small talk leaving her feeling awkward as she swirls the almost fully melted ice around the empty cup. It’s not until Jonah is getting ready to move on to a new set of guests that the attention is turned back to her.

“And you, pretty girl, owe me a song. Specifically that one Linda Ronstadt song from the Fourth of July barbecue last year. Remember? S’only fair… consider it a birthday gift from you to me.” 

Despite her inner discomfort, she maintains a face of cheerfulness, though her stomach sinks with apprehension at his request. Memories of the barbecue flood her mind, vivid recollections of his relentless pursuit despite her repeated, albeit polite, refusals.

The word ’no’ is on the tip of her tongue, but knowing all too well the persistence he’s exhibited before; she succumbs to the weight of the occasion—his birthday—and the anticipation in his eyes.

“Blue Bayou, I remember. Does the band know it?” She inquires, her gaze flickering towards the live band stationed near the open area of the dance floor where a throng of people sway to the music.

She’s secretly hoping that they don’t, but the song is very popular so her hope dwindles.

“If they don’t, they will. I’ll introduce you when it’s time.” 

With a tight and forced smile gracing her lips, she simply replies, “Okay,” accompanied by a subtle nod. His wicked grin spreads larger, almost daring Javier to react by punching him square in the jaw.

Regardless of how he feels towards her and their situation, it irks him to no end how this man blatantly disregards her boundaries.

Her body language screams apprehension, evident to anyone observant enough. However, Mayor Abbott is too fixated on persuading her to comply with his wishes to take notice. It’s apparent that he’s not accustomed to hearing the word ’no’.

Javi just holds his tongue, an insult threatening to slip out, as he finishes his drink with a practiced air of nonchalance.

The mayor finally says his goodbyes before walking away and her shoulders drop instantly.

“Guess I owe ya twenty bucks.” Romeo mutters, digging into his suit pocket for his wallet. 

The laugh she gives, though slight, simultaneously soothes and torments his heart.

Damn it all— this is going to be torture but he must endure.

“She bet that he was gonna pull somethin’ like this before leavin’ the house. I was dumb enough to think he wouldn’t.” He explains to Javier as he slips his daughter the twenty dollar bill which she slyly stuffs under the fabric of her dress by her chest.

The action, seemingly simple, is so hot to him.

“How many times do I have to say m’not a damn show pony that does tricks whenever it’s asked? He’s so lucky that I’m polite and that it’s his birthday— If not I woulda told him to shove it—-” She doesn’t finish her sentence as they’re approached by a group of people that she doesn’t recognize nor care for.

She feels like an afterthought as they bombard the men with questions about the recent cases and other related topics, so she takes that as her cue to leave, ordering another mocktail before slipping away towards the dance floor.

She is fully prepared to turn her brain off to enjoy some semblance of normalcy before she’s thrown back in to the confusing pit that is her current status with the former DEA agent.

Attempting to convince herself that she’s enjoying the moment, she sways to the lively rhythm of the music, lost in her own solitary dance. A few partygoers approach her asking to join her which she declines; peeved by all the unwanted attention she’s getting.

This isn’t even her party. She holds no merit here.

Javier only catches glimpses of her from his peripheral, engrossed in a conversation with a man who remembers him from his sheriff days in Laredo, before he left for Colombia. The discourse drones on, punctuated by forced laughter and idle pleasantries. Each word falls flat, devoid of substance, yet Javier remains steadfast. Anything to keep him and his mind away from her.

Suddenly, the screeching sound of microphone feedback reverberates off the opulent walls of the ballroom-style space and she winces at noise.

“Excuse me, sorry–– I’m not very good with these things.” The man of the hour apologizes, his voice crackling through the speakers. She inwardly curses, anticipating what’s to come next. Setting her now-empty glass down on one of the nearby tables, she smooths her hands along the velvety fabric of her dress, ironing out any wrinkles, and hastily fixes her hair as best as she can without a mirror.

With a deep breath, she pushes down her nerves, summoning a smile to face the adversity when he introduces her. She steps onto the stage, the room erupting into scattered applause as she approaches the microphone.

♫

Midway through the song, to her surprise, Jonah joins her on stage, transforming the solo performance into an unexpected duet. Despite her inner discomfort, Paloma maintains a composed expression and tries to conceal any hint of surprise in her body language as he draws nearer.

Her unease heightens when he pulls her close against him, the heat of his body against hers as they sway to the rhythm of the music during the instrumental interlude of the country song. She reluctantly complies, her compliance more a result of avoidance of potential consequences than genuine willingness to dance with him.

The sight of his possessive grip on her waist, pulling her into an unwelcome dance, ignites a surge of vexation within Javier. He feels the tension in his muscles coil tighter with each step they take, their bodies moving in sync to the rhythm of the music. It’s unbearable to watch, the image of Paloma in Jonah’s arms twisting like a knife in his gut.

Without a word, Javier makes his escape, his strides purposeful as he navigates through the crowded room. He mutters a vague excuse to Romeo, the urgency in his voice betraying his need to flee from the suffocating scene unfolding before him.

Finally stepping out into the cooler night air, Javier takes a deep breath to soothe his frazzled nerves. He makes his way towards a gazebo that’s right by the large pond, putting as much distance as he can between himself and the party inside.

Leaning against the railing of the structure, he retrieves his trusty pack of cigarettes from his pocket, hands trembling slightly as he lights one. Each drag offers a fleeting moment of respite from the turmoil brewing inside him.

Inside, the song ends and she wastes no time in descending the stage, a sense of urgency propelling her movements. She refuses to linger, her mind consumed with the dread of another unwanted encounter with the mayor. Surveying the crowded room, she searches in vain for her father or Javier, but they’re nowhere to be found amidst the sea of faces.

Determined to escape the party atmosphere, Paloma makes a beeline for the exit, craving the solace of the summer night air. Stepping out onto the back porch, she inhales deeply, the breeze offering a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat of the event.

The night is alive with subtle sounds—toads croaking in the distance, the distant murmur of conversation—but it’s the solitary figure in the distance that captures her attention. With a sense of inevitability, Paloma finds herself drawn towards the silhouette, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she descends the steps leading to the gazebo.

When she approaches, Javier remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the tranquil expanse of water before him. The rhythmic puff of his cigarette punctuates the silence, a tangible barrier between them. Despite the tension hanging in the air, Paloma presses forward, her resolve unyielding as she closes the distance between them.

“We need to talk.” 

He stands like a statue, the weight of her words are heavy, yet he remains resolute in his silence, hoping that she’ll simply give up and leave him be. But Paloma is nothing if not persistent, her frustration bubbling over as she confronts him.

“Fuck, Javier will you at least look at me?! Acknowledge that I’m standin’ here tryin’ to speak with you?!” Her voice crackles with pent-up emotion, her southern accent thick as each word is laden with an intensity that he can’t ignore.

Reluctantly, he turns his head slightly, his gaze skimming over her figure with resignation. It’s a small concession, but it’s enough to stoke the fire of her frustration to new heights.

“I dunno why you’ve decided to be such a jerk to me all of the sudden,” she continues, her tone laced with a raw edge of hurt and confusion. “You’re tellin’ me that I’m bein’ childish a-and that I need to move on from the kiss but we both know it’s so much bigger than that. We’ve been dancin’ around it since the moment we met and I’m tired of pretendin’ like I don’t want you.” 

His eyes close briefly, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before he retreats behind his stoic facade once more. His fingers find their way to the bridge of his nose, pinching tightly as he struggles to find the right words to respond. But before he can form a coherent thought, she presses on, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession.

“I told myself I wouldn’t care if you didn’t feel the same way,” She admits, her voice growing softer now, tinged with a hint of desperation. “But that was before I got to know you. Before you somehow wriggled your way into my heart and overtook my mind entirely. We became friends, and I-I didn’t want to screw that up. But then we kissed, and in that moment, I knew you wanted me just as badly…” 

She draws closer, her hand reaching out tentatively to rest on his shoulder, the touch sending a jolt of tension through his body. It’s a silent plea, a manifestation of her vulnerability, and it’s all he can do to keep his composure still as her words wash over him like a hurricane.

“Every time I see you I don’t want to behave, Javi. I’m tired of being patient, so let’s pick up the pace and finally give in.” 

He flicks his finished cigarette out into the water, the ember trailing like a shooting star before disappearing into the dark abyss below.

Slowly, he turns to face her fully, the summer air crackling with tension as he takes in her determined stance. His hand shoots out, grabbing hold of the wrist that had just been resting on him, his dark eyes boring into hers in an act of intimidation.

But Paloma doesn’t back down, her gaze unwavering as she meets his stare head-on. Instead, she brings her free hand up to rest against his chest, the heat of her touch seeping through the fabric of his shirt as she steps closer, closing the gap between them until his dress shoes are toe-to-toe with her pointed heels.

He doesn’t make an effort to step away or decline her advances, his resolve crumbling in the face of her determination. Her words have jumbled him up completely, the sudden revelation of her feelings catching him off guard and leaving him reeling. The direct mention of what they’ve been indulging in for the past few months digs into his achilles’ heel—his tendency to fall in love in the damndest of times.

He stares down into her eyes, a storm of conflicting emotions raging wildly. The lust swirling in her gaze stirs something primal and raw within him. Any rational part of his brain seems to shut down in that moment, his thoughts consumed by the overwhelming desire to kiss her again, to lose himself in the exhilarating whirlwind of emotions that she evokes from him.

“It’s obviously insane, m’not a fucking idiot I understand the repercussions…. but we both know what we want, so why don’t we…” She whispers, tilting her head up until their lips brush against one another.

“Why don’t we fall in love?” 

It’s not clear who makes the first move, but their lips are interlocked in a passionate kiss—a fierce collision of desire and pent-up longing that surpasses the one they had previously shared. Paloma’s hand on his chest clenches the fabric of his shirt while Javier relinquishes his grip on her wrist, his own hands rising to cradle her jaw in his palms.

The taste of the lingering cigarette smoke mingles with the faint bitterness of alcohol on his breath, a heady combination that heightens her desire. She moans softly into his mouth, her tongue intertwining with his in a desperate attempt to savor every fleeting moment before it inevitably slips away.

Javier, consumed by the intoxicating sensation, slowly walks her back until her back is against the sturdy pillar of the gazebo, his movements now possessive and urgent. He deepens the kiss, molding his body against hers as if to merge their souls into one.

Her touch is addicting, a bittersweet symphony that resonates in the depths of his bones. Despite the warnings screaming in the recesses of his mind, urging him to stop and pull away, he finds himself unable to resist the magnetic pull she exerts over him.

Breaking the kiss, Javier’s lips trail down the side of her mouth, blazing a trail of heated kisses along her jawline before descending to her neck. His teeth graze her delicate skin, resisting the urge to leave a trail of marks in their wake as his tongue traces a path along her neck and up to her earlobe, where he bites down gently.

“Is this what you wanted, nena? For me to shower you in my fucking attention?” He husks, his voice thick with desire and a hint of frustration. His words swim between them, a question laced with layers of longing and palpable need, as he continues to lavish attention upon her neck, each kiss and caress fueling the flames of their mutual desire.

Paloma just whines, arching herself into him as her thighs rub together to relieve the tension of arousal that is assaulting her core.

“Yes, Javi, that’s all I want. I want you to talk to me, to touch me, to make me feel good.” 

Her hands are now against his broad shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit jacket as she feels the muscles beneath tense at her touch. A low, guttural groan escapes his lips in response to her words, a primal sound that sends shivers down her spine.

“I can make you feel good, hermosa. Better than any fucking culero (asshole) in this town.” He murmurs, his voice dripping with possessiveness. With deliberate intent, Javi begins to hike up her long dress, the fabric yielding easily to his touch until it’s gathered at the top of her thighs, exposing her black, lacey panties. His hands roam lower, trailing a path of electricity along her skin until they find purchase behind her thighs, gripping the soft skin firmly as he effortlessly lifts her into his arms.

She wraps her legs around his waist, anchoring herself to him as he hoists her up against the solid pillar of the gazebo. She feels his hardness pressing up against her clothed cunt and it has a sharp pang of pleasure sprouting at her core, igniting a fierce heat to course through her entirely. His touch is addicting, sending waves of ecstasy rippling through her body as she surrenders to the intrinsic urgency of their shared horniness.

The pure conviction in his tone only adds to the intensity of the moment. She wants nothing more than to be completely ruined by this man. She wants to be his, and his alone.

Javier grinds his hips up, the friction between them firing up every nerve ending. Her pussy throbs with need, aching for more of his touch. She can feel every inch of him pressing against her, his hard cock straining against his pants, begging to be released.

As their bodies move in perfect harmony, she wraps her fingers in his hair, tugging at it lightly. His lips move from her neck and crash against hers, a wild, passionate kiss that leaves them both panting for air. It grows more frenzied, their teeth clashing together in a desperate and selfish need for more. She moans into his mouth, the sound sending a jolt of electric arousal straight to his cock. He grinds harder against her, his hips moving in rhythm with hers.

She can feel her orgasm building, a fierce heat blossoming at her pussy. Her whimpers turn to animated moans as she writhes against him. The last time she dry humped someone to completion had been way back in high school and that had been an overall embarrassment so it’s never something she revisited.

Not until now, with Javier who is making her feel like she’s the only girl in the fucking world.

His fingers expertly cup her breast, teasing her hardened nipple through the fabric of her dress. She arches her back, pressing her chest into his hand, silently begging for more. He takes the hint, groping her and squeezing it gently, relishing in the way she shudders.

Her eyes close in ecstasy as he continues to knead her tit. His other hand trails along her inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the heat between her legs. When he finally reaches her core, she gasps, her body trembling with need. He doesn’t touch her, instead he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of her thigh.

“If this is what you wanted so fucking bad then go ahead and take it, needy girl. Go on, make yourself cum by grinding that wet pussy all over me.” 

She mewls, throwing her head back as she feels her orgasm building. She’s such a sight to bear witness to, how her swollen lips part and his name slips from her tongue like a hymn, making his cock twitch.

Her wetness seeps through her flimsy thong, leaving a damp spot on the fabric of his dress pants. He can feel it seeping through the material and it drives him mad. He needs to be inside her, to feel her walls fluttering around his cock as they finally give in to each other…

But first, he wants to watch her unravel just like this.

“I’m close, Javi…” His lips hungrily devour the tender flesh of her neck again, making her eyes roll back as their hips continue to move at a sensual pace. The metallic zipper of his pants brushes against her sensitive clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. She can’t help but cry out in sweet surrender, her voice louder than before.

His large hand clamps over her mouth, preventing her screams from echoing out.

“Don’t get us caught, chiquita. Wouldn’t want your daddy comin’ out here and findin’ you like this–– all cockdrunk and begging to be fucked.” 

His dirty and abrasive words are like fuel to the flames of her impending climax, sending her spiraling out of control. Her rhythm stutters, her body writhing uncontrollably as she bites down on the skin of his palm as the orgasm overtakes her entirely.

All that can be heard is their heavy, shared pants. His hand falls from her mouth as she falls limp in his arms, her body jolting every now and again with the aftershock of her intense orgasm. 

She peppers tender kisses along the bare expanse of his jaw, silently berating him for having his shirt buttoned up for once and the pesky tie restricting her from licking and biting against the tantalizing skin of his neck and collarbone.

“Need… need to feel you, Javi, please.” She whines against his ear, her hands trailing down from his broad shoulders, over his chest, then down to his belt buckle. She can still feel the swell of him pressed up against her sopping cunt and despite just coming hard; she’s craving to feel all of him.

This is the pivotal moment where he knows he should exercise restraint, where the noble path of virtue beckons him to rise above the consuming tide of desire. To explain to her that they can and never will be anything but an unattainable fantasy.

But he doesn’t, instead Javi lets her untuck his dress shirt from his pants and helps her with unbuckling his belt.

“We shouldn’t do this, Paloma…” Is all he can say in an attempt to keep it from happening but she shushes him, her hand slipping beneath his boxers as she wraps her manicured fingers around his girth and begins to pump him slowly.

“Mierda,” He curses in Spanish, his forehead falling gently against hers as his eyes flutter close at the overwhelming feeling of her softer, smaller hand jerking him off. Her thumb glides over the tip, spreading his excessive precum over the length of his cock.

“But we want to… oh you’re so big Javi. Gonna be feelin’ you for days…” She sounds like something out of a wet dream and he simply can’t hold back any longer.

He instructs her to grab his wallet from his suit pocket and to retrieve the condom he keeps in there, receiving a playful eye roll from her but she doesn’t push her luck–– she needs him badly and she’d go absolutely feral if he decided to deny them both the pleasure of fucking.

His strong hold on her keeps them secure against the pillar, she rips the small package with her teeth then pushes his pants down enough to release his erection, rolling the latex on easily.

There’s a moment where suspension hangs in the air, both of them staring into each other’s lust blown eyes.

“Don’t think about it too much, please. Just fuck me.” 

Her insistence is such a turn on, spurring him into reaching down to ball up the thin layer of her panties before he yanks them off, the sound of the fabric tearing apart causing her to gasp. Stuffing the ruined material into his back pocket, he readjusts his hips so that the thick head of his cock presses up against her exposed and puffy folds.

“Such an impatient little thing, hermosa. I shouldn’t even give you what you want. Should just walk away and leave you here a desperate and wet mess.” 

Gripping onto the base of his cock with his free hand, Javier nudges it between her slit and teases her, the head repeatedly brushing against the pearl of her clit.

Her breath hitches, rolling her hips to entice him into entering her, “Please, Javi, I’ll do whatever you want just plea–– oh f-fuck!” 

He sinks into her pussy, leaning forward to bite down on her shoulder to keep his own sounds of pleasure at bay as he feels the way her fleshy walls contract around his cock, stretching her with how thick he is.

Her fingers return to intertwine themselves in his hair as he begins to set a delicious pace, fucking into her with a passion that’s making her see stars. The feeling of his teeth digging into her skin is an added stimulant to the already immense pleasure.

“Damn it you’re so tight. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, pretty girl. You satisfied now that I’m giving you what you want, huh?” He grunts out, nipping at her jawline as all she does is keen and moan, too overwhelmed with how good he’s making her feel. “Spoiled little thing, gonna fuck that right out of this tight little body. So you can learn, fuck, learn how not to be such a fucking pain in my ass.” 

She’s too wrapped up in the feeling of him brushing up against her cervix to fully process what he is saying against her skin. Their lips slant over each other as they kiss messily, the way he fucks her making her brain melt.

There’s no thoughts up there, just the feeling of him as he continues to break her open with his delicious cock.

His hands fall down to her waist, holding on tightly as he goes from languid thrusts to a quicker, more brutal pace as they chase their orgasms.

She’s glad that they’re far away enough to where no one can interrupt this moment, though the idea of there being an onlooker does entice her more than she’d ever admit. 

Her legs tighten around his waist, the pointed heel of her shoes digging into his backside as she feels a knot forming at the pit of her stomach, indicating that she isn’t far from coming undone.

“C’mon nena, be a good girl and let go,” His thumb finds itself being pressed against her soft lips and immediately she opens her mouth, licking around then sucking the digit and maintaining eye contact through it all. It has Javier grunting out a few expletives before letting his saliva coated thumb drop between them, rubbing tight circles against her clit.

This has her clenching around him and crying out, which causes a smirk to tug at his lips as he puts more pressure onto her clit.” Tan bonita así, toda lista para mi. (So pretty like this, all ready for me)” 

She tugs harshly at his hair at the sound of his Spanish, her arousal topples over and her second orgasm hits her like toppling bricks. She squeezes his cock tightly inside her, her legs an iron grip on his waist as she bites down harshly on her bottom lip, almost drawing blood, to keep her intense whimpers and moans from spilling out and drawing attention to them.

Satisfied that he’s made her unravel on him, Javier fucks her through her orgasm relentlessly until he’s spilling into the condom, burying his face in her neck, right where he can feel her pulse, and grazing the skin with his teeth. He wants to leave a mark, for her to walk around with evidence of him on her body but that’d be a wrong move atop of all the other wrong moves he’s made tonight.

Paloma breathes heavily, mind hazy as she tries to recollect herself from the throes of passion bestowed upon her by Javier Peña. They stay there, embraced in one another before he pulls out of her with a grunt and she whines at the loss of him.

Her legs unwrap from his waist as he tentatively sets her down, discarding of the condom into the water as he tucks himself back into his pants and she pulls her dress down, not even bothered by the fact that he ripped her underwear right off of her.

“That was a mistake.” 

His statement cuts through the night air and she’s already struggling to catch her footing on wobbly legs, the effect of being fucked hard and good.

“Javi––” 

“No, Paloma, I’m fucking serious.” He asserts, his voice taking on a sharp edge, landing like a heavy blow on her already rattled nerves.

“All that sentimental bullshit you were saying before… it means nothing to me. You’re just a distraction–– a pretty face that’s been keeping me from doing my damn job. Now, there’s another life lost, and instead of finding answers, I’m too busy babysitting you.” 

“Don’t you dare pin your incompetence on me, Javier,” She shoots back, her tone tinged with anger and frustration,” I’ve seen my father struggle with this bullshit for months now–– it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you. S’not my fault you’re not as clever as everyone thinks you are. All the praise you get for being such a fuckin’ hero and yet… look at you. Unable to meet the expectations.” 

She adjusts the thin straps of her dress back up her shoulder, wincing slightly as she brushes against the bite mark he accidentally left against her skin, knowing that she’s going to feel that atop of the soreness between her legs after this.

She braces herself for the inevitable discomfort that will follow, both physically and emotionally.

Javier’s jaw tightens, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he fights to maintain his composure. He knows better than to let her words get to him the way that they are.

This is exactly what they need, some intense fight to fully shatter the illusion of their involvement.

“Look at you, Paloma,” He sneers, his words dripping with contempt as he levels a scornful gaze at her. “Throwing yourself at me every chance you get like a whore. I used to pay for shit like this, but you? Oh, I didn’t spare a fucking dime. Giving it all up for free.” 

Her jaw drops, a surge of anger and indignation flooding her senses as his words cut through her like a knife. She raises her hand instinctively, intent on delivering a stinging rebuke in the form of a slap across his jaw. But before she can make contact, his grip tightens around her wrist, arresting her movement with an iron grip.

“Don’t be stupid, querida,” He mocks her, his voice laced with disdain as he delivers each word like a venomous dagger. “Now that I fucked you one good time: Leave. Me. Alone. How ’bout you go back inside and fraternize with the mayor. I’m sure he’s eager to give you all the male validation you’re clearly chasing after.” He tilts his head, glaring at her in contempt. “Better yet, run off to your junkie, criminal boyfriend; won’t be long before he knocks you up and you’re stuck living in a run down trailer park in this shitty fucking town.” 

Paloma’s heart shatters at his callous words, tears welling up in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks unchecked. She gazes up at Javier, but the man before her is no longer the sweet, charming figure she thought she knew. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now glint with coldness and malice, rendering him unrecognizable to her.

“Fuck you,” She spits, wrenching her hand free from his grip with a mixture of anger and hurt flashing in her eyes. Despite the tears welling up, she summons every ounce of defiance to shoot him a disdainful glare. “You’re a piece of shit, Javier Peña.” 

With those final words, ones he’s heard a plethora of times before, she whirls around, her footsteps echoing loudly on the wooden stairs as she races to the nearest bathroom.

Ignoring the throbbing ache between her legs, she finds solace in the confines of the lavish restroom, allowing herself to unleash the torrent of tears pent up inside. Feeling foolish and utterly used, she wonders how she could have ever fallen for a man like him.

Meanwhile, Javier is left grappling with the sight of her heartbreak now etched into his memory. Pushing aside his own conflicted emotions, he knows he can’t afford to let their tangled affair distract him any longer.

This is what you both needed. He reminds himself, looking out into the water as the silver moonlight reflects off of the surface. Harsh, but she’ll get over it.

With a resigned sigh, he retrieves another cigarette, the familiar ritual offering a fleeting sense of calm amidst the storm raging about.

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

If I write a video essay on why S2 overall didn't work for me personally what bits should I add from fandom consensus (I'm posting this before I go to bed, I'm first breaking S2 down episode by episode, putting 'pins' in topics for after when I break down why I was disappointed, I'm already at Ep 3). I won't be discussing how Izzy's death impacted elder queers (I'm 21) or physically disabled people as it's not my place, but will be linking people's experiences. I also live in a rural Red state, I've been visibly closeted my whole life. I can't speak to finding a queer family the way Izzy did in S2.

I've already got:

Jenkins confirmed that this season was always going to be 8 episodes, so he bit off more than he could do and gave us a story as broad as an ocean with little depth.

Izzy's arc is centered on leaving Ed, only claiming to not want to be without Blackbeard, though neither character really WAS Blackbeard. Izzy suddenly becomes Ed's mentor.

How if you wanted Izzy to be tied to Ed and Blackbeard it could have been so easy to just portray Izzy as suicidal this entire season, and genuinely depressed, instead of having the time of his life.

The fact Izzy, Stede, and Ed rarely interact with the main crew. In the scenes, they are in they are framed as two separate groups. Making Ed feel like he was never brought back into the family, and Izzy as only having made friends with the heartbroken crew

Stede being shallow as fuck, ignoring Lucius' trauma, telling jim to 'hush' in ep 4 during the Ed apology scene (fuck him), telling Ed he shouldn't apologize in ep 8, the ONE TIME Ed apologizes to someone, looking at them and fully meaning it.

Ed stops trying to make peace with the crew after episode 5.

Lucius' line implying sexual assult, and Fang's line about what he did to Ed's unconscious body being the type of humor this show should have stayed away from.

Not confirming what the Olu/Jim/Archie/Zheng situation is IN CANON. Are they all together? Who knows??? I literally see it as Archie/Jim and Zheng/Olu where Jim and Olu are partnered? But the only confirmation of that is Olu called Jim Babe this season. Like????

Izzy's funeral being tearless, them making jokes atop a grave, and it is followed by a WEDDING. OH, and the ring being left there(I won't reference the leg, but will reference that some find it odd that THEY REMOVED HIS LEG, a part of his body, to use as a headstone)

IZZY'S DEATH NOT SERVICING ANY PLOT. It doesn't move the plot forward, it's thrown in for no reason.

Izzy's death set up. (IE. Two infamous pirates not checking a hostage. It's lazy and doesn't add to the plot)

The fact Izzy is fucking lying if he thought the crew loved Ed- like?.

The crew seriously thought Ed murdered Buttons, didn't they...

[gunsatthaphan]

"you saved my life."

[salmonight]

Free Title Ideas Pt. 1

I am always looking for new title ideas trying to find the perfect match for my meager amount of fics actually published ( I got a ton of wips mind you) so I have this little file full with title ideas I got from here and there and I thought I share them! Feel free to use them and all! I only actually used a few of them myself so theyre up for the take! Enjoy!

( I suck at categorizing mind u so take it however u want)

Low Mood:

Paint Splattered Teardrops

A Mournful Radio Song

The Quite Ivories

20 Minute Too Long… Too Late-

No Third Round Up

My Heart's An Artifice, A Decoy Soul

If These Walls Could Talk

Like Drying Paint on the Walls

Withering Memories

Bury Our Secrets Shallow

Isn't It Tragic How Far You Came?

The Best of the Worsts

Your Wings Are Failing, Icarus

Let Your Wings Carry You Away From Here

Cry For Reflection

The Scream of Winter

Much Madness in Divinest Sense

Family Doesn't End in Blood

In This Castle Of Glass

All the Same (Once a Liar, Always a Liar)

Crack:

Law is Where You Buy It

Miles from Normal

Stop Screaming - It's Me

Between Two Liars…

Lost My Soul and All I Got Was this T-Shirt

Dude, Where's My Soul?

When Life Hands You Demons Make Demonade

Demon-Blend Straigh From Hell

Nothing to See Here Officer, Just a Bunch of Blobs

Hey Kid, Wanna Buy a Blob Ghost?

Gingers Have No Souls

This Little Blob of Mine

Feral Goose Hunting: A Beginner's Guide (Just Don't)

10 Ways to Connect with Your Feral Goose by Robin

A Guide on Ruining Your Life

It IS and Idea (Just NOT the Brightest)

I Am totally NOT the One to Blame for THIS

Dead Men Won't Shut Up

Encryptid

Cryptid Crash Course

Shakespeare Has Nothing on Me!

[insert name]'s Observation Diary of the Weirdest Boss(es)

The Devil’s Eyes and His Voice of Reason

Romance:

Makeshift Chemistry

Stargazing, Coffee and the Mystery of You..

Play Love Like Killers (We All Fall)

Good Vibes:

Sunshine Riptide

Come on Baby, the Laugh Is on Me

Fair With Some Rain

Star Light, Star Bright, First Arrow I See Tonight

Bitter (?):

Ah, Lay Waste to it, then Laugh at it

Believe, We Were Never Gonna Lose Control

Die, but too Blind to See

Too Latte for Smiling (yes thats a pun there no miss typing)

And as the Scribe Said, Mark Me Up With Words

Vodka Shots in the Dark

What Lingers, What Waits

Dr.Sunshine is Dead

Action:

Swing 'em Sword, Comin' in Swarms

Droppin' Guns all on the Floor 'till it look like River Styx

Black on Black at Night

Rifles, and they're Useless in this House

Dropp the Dagger

Watch Us BURN

Death:

Leave Your Body and Soul at the Door

Dead Man's Party

'Till the Reaper Call

'cause the Hangman's Waiting

A Night in the Ice Box

Stars Fall Underground

Can't Reach the Stars from the Underworld

Dance on Your Grave in All Whites

I Will See You Down Below

A Toast to the Passing Lights

I am a Ghost, but Only If You Remember

A Forray into Thanatology

Do You Want to Build a Snow-ghost?

In the In Between

Deceased When Last Seen

They Only Murdered Him Once

Colder Than These Bones

A Ghostly Collection of Stories once Untold

Dearly Departed

Hopeful:

City of Last Hopes

Bright Foggy Skies

This Bird Has Flown

A Bard's Tale, so Bittersweet

In the Winter, the Van Keeps Rolling

Oh Raven (Sing Me a Happy Song)

A Light to Call Home

Lost and Found

Towards the Sun

Khmm I have quite a few ghost/death and Dc related ones cuz I mostly wrote DC and DP fics so I looked for tittles for those. Those who know, know those who don't can ignore them.

Pt 2 |

[likecanyoujustnot]

Cardan’s letters pov

Part 4: ridiculous

A/n: currently typing this on my iPad that is so old it’s lost 10 percent in 10 minutes. But I won’t write much i want to know if my Hawke-is-actually-casteel theory is correct. Anyway. Enjoy

Part 3. Part 5

36 days.

36 days and no Jude. I’d never not seen her for this long, even when we hated each other.

I was getting desperate. And desperate people do foolish things.

Like go to their families graves.

They were buried outside, in the woods.

Dain.

Elowyn.

Caelia.

Rhyia.

Eldred.

I stared at the stones that marked their final resting place. So simple, the prince, princess and high king, reduced to a small headstone that would be overgrown in a few decades.

I may have despised my brother and father, but no one wants to have their entire family massacred.

I don’t know what happened to Dain’s mother’s. Balekin probably gave her body to her sister, or other unspeakables.

After Jude had been exiled, I went to the courtyard where she had killed him. Said to the guards to do with him as they wished. Dig a shallow grave, feed him to some rabid creature, dump him in the ocean, sell his organs, I really didn’t care.

I wouldn’t be king if it weren’t for him.

I’d be enjoying a life of zero responsibilities and be able to drink and lust over Jude to my hearts content.

Balekin wouldn’t have killed me at the coup, he didn’t know of Oak’s lineage, and thought I was the only one able to crown him.

But I was grateful for Jude taking me away. Who knows how long I would’ve stayed under that table for.

Plus it had ended with us kissing, which was a massive bonus.

What I wouldn’t give for one more kiss from her lips. One more skeptical look as I did something she disapproved of. One more second, so I could tell her what was truely in my heart.

The bomb had been right when she’d said I loved Jude.

I’d loved Jude since we’d gone to school together. I’d seen her beauty, so different to the perfectness of the other women I’d been with, more rugged, raw. Seen the way she didn’t let her inability to do what the fae could hold her back, she was fierce when standing up for herself, when showing the fae- showing me- that she was not one to be underestimated.

And I’d taken all of it, the beauty, the ferociousness, the strength, the moments she let her guard down, for granted.

If she ever came back, I would tell her how I felt, how I loved her, how my every thought was consumed with her.

I placed the flowers on the graves of my sisters. I missed them. Even if I didn’t see them that often and they liked to pretend I didn’t exist.

I spat on my father’s grave as I left the clearing, not even acknowledging Dain’s.

“Mother.”

I stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching her rummage through the cupboards for food. Multiple family reunions in one day. Lucky me.

She made a sound of recognition.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re not very smart are you? It’s quite clear I’m looking for food.”

Lady Asha was many things, a sympathetic mother was not one.

“There are rumours around court.”

I folded my arms and lent against the door. “That’s not new, they always talk.”

She looks at me and there is a cruel smile on her face. One I recognise as being so similar to my own. “Yes but now there are the most scandalous stories about you and your dear seneschal.” I raise a brow and she continues. “They’re saying you and her were involved in a physical relationship.” I keep my face blank. “Some state you stole her from Locke, and in desperation he married her sister. Others say you exiled her because she’s pregnant with your child, and you would rather abandon her than father a half-human child.”

I rolled my eyes. “She’s not pregnant, I exiled her for killing my brother.”

“That won’t stop them.”

She straightened and walked over to the bench. I noted the absence of food in her hands. “I’m surprised you haven’t brought her back. Might be something you and your father have in common. Abandon your lovers.”

“I am nothing like my father. And this conversation is wasting my time.”

She smirked as I left.

I don’t know why I continued to deal with her presence. She didn’t care about me when she ignored me as a child, a baby who had to find his own way to survive.

If I ever had children I would make sure they never went a day without knowing I loved and cared for them.

And of course that line of thinking brought me back to Jude.

Did she want kids?

We’d both had thoroughly messed up childhoods. Her parents had been murdered by the man she now considered her father. My father probably would have been glad if I’d just died.

We had Oak if she didn’t want them.

I sighed and sat back on my bed. I’d spent so long in here the past month. Wishing for nothing more than Jude to be beside me.

But she wasn’t.

So I would do the only thing I could think of.

I wrote another letter.

Jude,

I love you, and I miss you so much it hurts.

No, the first time I told her I loved her would be in person. Not over a freaking letter.

Jude,

Not even responding to my missives is ridiculous and beneath you and I hate it.

Cardan

I stared at the words.

At the words I didn’t say.

Tags:

@magicstrengthandcourage

[forevergreenwithenvy]

you’re afraid because you’ve never seen my real face

but the face i wear is pretty, i customized it to your liking

but fear makes simple men irrational

the white light flickers in my eyes, catch it and you’ll wish you hadn’t

i’ll die a million deaths and come back to life again,

bones cracking and mending, i morph into familiar faces

i’m what you can’t escape,

the one you can’t chain or break

isn’t it romantic that i forced myself to become what you needed?

but the torches have been lit, the masses scream “kill the shapeshifter”

and you followed the stream

but i won’t accept an easy defeat, i’ll swim against the tide with all my might

rejection and hatred ignited the fire

what is too complex for simple men to grasp shall be buried underground,

never to be found lest the guilt begins to eat them alive

i warned you when we first met, i am not what i seem to be

but it can’t be the worst sight you’ve ever laid your eyes on

forget it, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and you’re blind with rage

i worshipped something false, a man whose pretty mouth spreads lies

and the torches have been lit, the masses scream “kill the shapeshifter”

and you set fire to the last of the love you had for me

but i won’t accept an easy defeat, i will not burn lest i will it

beware of the scorned woman pacing in her tower, her calloused hands cradling her ripped out hair

she prays to the gods of her madness every morning, she sings to the harbingers of death at night

she carved out his heart and devoured his flesh,

he will remain with her until her fight gives out

shame, shame, shame

it’s whispered in my ear over and over again

it’s a type of wrath only a god could understand

and what is more powerful than simple men must be desecrated

if blood must be spilled, let it be mine, let it be over

so quickly i’ll hardly have time to change my mind

i was created, made into what i am by something bigger than us

but that’s no reason to fear a child

but the torches have been lit, the masses scream “kill the shapeshifter”

they will burn me and erase me from history

but i will accept an easy defeat this time, i know what i am returning home to

shallow grave, don’t unearth me again

[artist-issues]

i don't know man. I was feeling a rare flare up of empathy for Jezebel I guess. Because she was human too. A sinner like both of us. A sinner in power, unlike both of us. Does any human deserve to be torn apart by dogs? Solomon and David did similar things, and sure they did repent so maybe you could say it doesn't count, but would they have deserved an equal punishment? Take a man's wife, take his life (probably premeditated) if David hadn't repented, doubled down, at the critical juncture, would he have deserved that type of justice? Solomon doubled down, on the worship of idols spreading through his kingdom, but he repented a bit too late. As far as we know Jezebel was not an old woman when she died, perhaps mid fifties at the latest. Solomon lived longer.

And there are too many kings that allowed the worship of idolatry, did they get punished in the same manner? I know Athaliah was removed from the temple to be executed, but the boy king was even weaker than her, once his mentor the priest passed on.

i know there's lots of kings who got their own... comeuppance, in literature terms, over the issue of false worship, and some just as horrible. Jezebel's ending is not as unique in the greatest of schemes.

Like I said, it was just a flare up of empathy. I understand why she deserved it. I also think it was a violent and undignified death. And I also know she did the same to others.

But monarchs changing the state religion also murdered the religious in the way of their goals, so shes not unique. And Ahab was okaying a lot of her decisions anyway.

but the idea of who am I to question God who gave the prophecy to Elijah? Who are you? I think it's important to question. Not like an idiot atheist who wants to play word games to show how worldly and arrogant they are. But asking questions takes me to interesting answers. Even if it's just a new angle to the situation. I don't ask questions for the ultimate why. Because we are on earth at the moment. And I don't think on heaven the answers get less complicated. Just to see a bit more of the Truth. Which is comprised of many things.

This stone walling, in your initial answer, fine go ahead. I'm grateful for the verse, I didn't have a chance today to hunt it down myself. But I find it tasteless, this stone walling, who am I to question. If you don't care to engage with certain things, go ahead. I should also do the same, but I'm not there yet.

I question because I want to and I can. I think that if I was Jezebel I would have been in a shit ton of pain unable to think anything but beg for it all to stop.

I think that if God said my brother was going to rot from the inside like Herod I would think, fine, he deserves it. My brother caused me pain, I wanted to kill him myself once, I think he should have suffered, fine it's fair. But at the same time if I had to watch, if I had to know that my brother who I hated was in agony, I would have wanted a dignified death, a painless one for him, out of my weak and shallow capacity of love for all living things.

I agree that Jezebel should have died. I even appreciate that all that was left was a skull and hands. The amount of people she had put to death, the lives she ruined, she deserved less than a funeral. The hunger and thirst for righteousness is satisfied, because evil has been cut down at last.

But I am supposed to love my neighbor. And I think all my neighbors, deserve a swift death and a proper 6x5 grave. Or a pile of ashes.

Not to say I will do these things. I too am overcome by rage and hatred and also very capable of justifying to myself why an evil person should be thrown to the pigs.

....this is why I don't engage in empathy that often.

Okay, you gotta be really careful here, man. God did not give her a 6 x 5 grave, and you're saying that's what "all your neighbors" deserve. So was God wrong, not to give her "what she deserved?"

I mean, I can see where you're coming from with the whole empathy thing. Of course it's hard to wrap our minds around, being human, and seeing what God did to a similar human. Of course there's room for understandable mental wrestling, when, like you said, He seems to kill some horrible rulers in shocking ways, but gives grace to others. Of course.

But you didn't ask me a nuanced question. You asked a question about "deserving." And the bottom line is, God alone gets to decide who deserves what.

There's a difference between asking questions to better understand Truth, because there's something you don't know yet— and asking questions despite the fact that the Truth is already plain. The truth with what Jezebel specifically "deserved" is already plain: God gets to decide what people deserve, and God decided very clearly what she deserved, so she deserved it.

There comes a point where questioning something obvious isn't intellectual or empathetic. Because you're having to bypass the simple truth to even ask it. You can't be analyzing-from-a-different-angle something you're bypassing. You have to bypass the Truth "God decides who deserves what" to ask the question "did Jezebel really deserve to die like that?"

It's just "vain reasoning." Romans 1:21. You know the answer, but you're not focusing on it, which is tiptoeing right up to the line of "knowing it but refusing to believe it." That is a dangerous place to be, and an arrogant place to be, and I can say that to you because it is a place I've been and still wander to, except for the grace of God.

I'm not saying that's where you're always at. I'm saying, that mindset is what your question sounded like. So while you call it "stonewalling," what I'm trying to do is simply answer with what's true. There really is nowhere else to go with your question, if truth is what you're after.

Please don't mistake my tone. I know it doesn't always come through online. I'm being firm, but I'm not being accusatory. You asked a question that indicates the above mindset. Maybe you didn't mean it like that, or I misunderstood. But I'm responding because I genuinely believe, and I think you genuinely believe, that what God says is all that matters at the end of the day, and we both need that reminder.

So when it comes to that, thank you for the question.

[veryflirtytransportalate]

The year is 2258.

I am given my grandfather's name by a man called James. I will go on to watch him die.

The year is 2281.

I am looking up as the stars go out and a man in a checkered suit slowly walks away. I will go on to watch him die.

There is dirt in my mouth and I was born underground. I am so happy to die in the eyes of the stars, even as the last one turns black.

The year is 2258.

'You're going to need a name,' a man says. He is playing the part of my father, James Lover, but he looks like the man who shot me. Meanwhile it is 2277 and I am watching the man who is actually my father slump against a pane of glass and clutch at his chest. He is shaped like my father, but I think of him as a scientist named James. My mother is a silhouette and a voice and a dying ghost even as the man wonders what to call me. He types on a keyboard with bloodstained gloves peaking out from the sleeves of his checkered suit. 'That's a good name,' the pretend father tells newborn me, smiling at what he's written, unaware that soon his wife will die, unaware that where he is will not be his home, unaware that one day I will watch his body cook from the inside out as I float in a field of starless dark on a cold Mojave night even as a man who is not named James but looks like James walks away from the shallow grave he shot me in.

The year is 2277, and my name... is Hooker Lover.

BONUS NOTES

Hook is my character in the latest Fallout New Vegas run I'm doing, but it may not start how you expect. This is actually a version of Fallout called Tale of Two Wastelands, and what it does is load the entirity of Fallout 3 into New Vegas. So my New Vegas character has a gargantuan backstory before he ever actually makes it to the Mojave, one of betrayal and hardship and struggle and weird dad issues and a lot of white knighting. I've added tons of other features, too, including a couple of fun surprises.

WATCH THE WHOLE SERIES (WHEN IT COMES OUT) WITH THIS PLAYLIST:

WANT RAW UNEDITED FOOTAGE? THERE'S A PLAYLIST FOR THAT: