#who abuse what he intended as a beautiful gift

[pridetempt]

lu favors hellborn over sinners bc the hellborn have no control over who / what they are. he views them almost as collateral damage of his decision to give man free will. sinners , on the other hand , chose to be shitty so maybe they deserve some suffering in hell.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 6 (MBJ x OC)

Warnings: Look… its literally just angst lol you're gonna feel things! Don't say I didn't warn you. NSFW

A/N: This is like 2 weeks later than I promised (SO sorry, y'all!) but I hope you enjoy!

***

“This isn’t so bad,” Michael argued. “She’s just complaining that she hasn’t met me yet and some other shit that isn’t even true. Why’s that a problem?” 

Alex shook her head as she scrolled on her phone. Her eyes did not even leave her phone screen as she spoke, her nails furiously tapping across the glass screen. “It’s not what she said that’s the problem. It’s that she’s talking at all… the only things I want to see in the media about the two of you are cute photos from date night, not tell alls from family members. Does she know about your… previous career?” 

This was the first time his manager had even directed a question at Raven, who had sat silently since they arrived. She was so angry that she could not even revel in the fact that she was at Michael’s house for the first time, not regulated to her usual place in his bachelor pad. She thought being invited to this intimate part of his life would make her happier. But instead of feeling joy and welcomed, she merely felt like a burden. She was only there out of necessity to fix the crisis her own sister created. 

This is why you can never be more, she reminded herself. Paris had started to rip out the weeds of doubt that grew in her soul, siphoning away the power of the notion that they could not be more. It had made her fall deeper in love with him, made her seriously ponder whether his feelings for her stretched into deeper territory.. But this? This reminded her of a sickening fact. 

No matter how many trips he charted for her, gifts he showered her with, or kindness he showed, she did not belong here with him in the real world. It was as if every intimate detail of his home and his real life that she saw screamed at her that she was out of place, punching above her weight, and needed to return to where she belonged: the outskirts of his life in the condo where he took one-night stands and flings that meant nothing once the sun rose. Because as soon as their arrangement was done, she would be nothing to him again. And while Paris had made her feel like she could still win in the ring, now she felt as if she was merely being punched right back down where she belonged. 

“No. Well… she doesn’t know about the prostitution. But… I always thought she figured out I was a stripper somehow.” 

Alex, who previously had been engrossed in her phone, lifted her head in surprise. “You were a stripper too? Would’ve been nice to know before now,” she muttered under her breath. 

Raven’s long stiletto nails bit into the palm of her hand as she tried not to let one comment push her right off the cliff she was teetering on. She knew Alex was not intending to be judgmental but that did not stop her from feeling the sting of it. Every choice she made in her life since the moment she came into the world seemed to be a bad one for everyone else. She could not do anything right. 

“I was a 19 year old with no skills who needed to pay for college. I wasn’t facing a fucking mountain of options. So I did the best I could with a shitty situation... Sorry my choices as a desperate teenager are making your job so difficult,” Raven snapped. 

“I didn’t me-” 

“Alex.” Michael’s stern voice cut through the budding tension, stealing the words right out of Alex’s mouth. Michael’s dominance and power seemed to have an effect on everyone, though Raven suspected it was because he was not the type to abuse it. Alex immediately let the rest of her sentence fade away, opting to apologize instead. 

Michael’s eyes had not left Raven’s body since they got in the car. He hated how her eyes actively avoided him, he had been unable to look in her beautiful brown eyes for over an hour and that killed him. They were the most expressive part of her, windows into her soul and every feeling she had. She shied away from his comforting touch in the car so he kept his distance but even still, he could see how her entire frame trembled ever so slightly. Her furrowed brow… her silence. God, her silence was so deafeningly loud in his ears. He was not used to it. Even if it was awkward ramblings, she was rarely silent with him. This was a side of her he had never seen. It was not sadness or resignation, he had seen both of those, and she seemed to be able to push through those just fine. No, this was something else and it was red hot and all consuming to the point where he could tell she could not hide it. It was a far cry from the woman who was sound asleep on his shoulder on the plane two hours prior. 

“I’m sorry,” Alex raised her hands. “I’m sorry. I’d never judge anyone for doing what they need to. I just need to know what else your sister could say.” 

“She has no proof… just speculation. But that’s it. She doesn’t know anything about my life now… we aren’t close.” 

At first, she had immediately handed Alex back her phone, uninterested in reading whatever lies her sister decided to spew. However, when Michael summarized it for her, the notions in it were so absurd, she had to read them for herself. She instantly wished she had not. 

It was as dramatic as it was false, her sister complaining about how Raven had changed and alienated her own family since her romance with the superstar had begun. She spun a web of tall tales about how Raven never spoke to them anymore, how close they once were and how much the family missed her, how Raven had told them Michael was too busy to meet them. By the time Raven got to the end of the article, she was shaking. 

She supposed the silver lining was that the article was more of a personal attack on her character than their relationship, which she was used to from her sister. She just had not expected her sister to drag it into the public eye like this. And while reading her words agitated some of her deepest wounds, they fueled more anger in her than any other emotion. Anger was not an emotion Raven often felt where her family was concerned. Slight frustration, sadness, hurt, guilt? She felt all of those often but she was used to it and often brushed them off. But true anger? That was rare, or rather, it was rare that she let herself feel true anger. And now, it hit her as high, powerful waves crashing against her shores. 

“So she’s just lookin’ for her 15 minutes. Fine. But she can’t say anything else, this’s gotta be it.” 

“Who cares if she mouths off to the media?” Michael asked. He knew why Alex cared and why he should care. But at that moment, all he could actually care about was minimizing this for Raven’s sake. He knew her well enough to know that the only person she would blame for this was herself, not her idiot sister. And it seemed to him that she blamed herself for far too much where her family was concerned. He did not want to add another unnecessary thing to that list. Nor did he want her to feel the burden of this because she was quite the opposite of a burden to him and he would clean up 100 PR nightmares for her without a second thought. They had taken 10 steps forward in Paris, walls came crumbling down for both of them. If he did not fix this fast, Raven would retreat 15 steps back from him and he could not take that. 

“That’s not the point! She’s smoke and TMZ knows where there’s smoke, there’s a fuckin’ fire. And y’all two and this whole situation is a damn forest fire. We don’t need TMZ or a fuckin’ Inspector Gadget head ass Tik Toker to look into Raven’s life or past anymore than they already have. So you need to shut her up now. Is she a fan of his or somethin?”

Raven scoffed. “If wanting to add him to her list of fuck buddies means she’s a fan then sure… she’s a fan.” Her anger meant she could not hide the bitterness in her voice, could not pretend to have a kind word to say about her sister who seemed to take joy in going out of her way to ruin all the good things in her life. 

“Well, that shit definitely ain’t happenin’,” Michael stated with a growl. 

“I mean, no nigga, I wasn’t gonna suggest you fuck her sister.” Alex rolled her eyes.

“Maybe we s-should just end this. I’m causing more problems than I’m fixing.” Raven’s voice was so quiet, Michael almost did not hear her. It hurt her heart to even consider it but Paris had rubbed her raw, left her and her emotions exposed in ways she had not experienced in a long time. And she had not minded that at first, she savored the closeness and vulnerability with another person. But now, all of her emotions felt dialed up by ten in that vulnerability and that overwhelmed her. She was overwhelmed by the rage she felt at her family for trying to use Michael the way they used her. She thought she couldn’t ruin him but she felt as if she already was. “I’m r-ruining everything…” 

Michael’s heart stopped, his head shaking vehemently before any words could even escape his lips. “What? No… why would we do that?” 

Raven’s head fell into her hands as she let out a frustrated and strangled sigh that sounded like a sob. 

“Ok, let’s all take a breath. I’m sorry, I probably made this seem like a bigger deal than it is. We don’t need to stop or end it if you aren’t ready to. This is still a good plan, no one is ruining anything. We can fix this. We just need to give her what she wants. If you just meet her, take a picture with her, get her tickets to a high profile event or party or whatever she wants, then maybe she’ll settle down and keep her mouth shut.” 

“She won’t,” Raven mumbled to no one in particular. 

“Everyone has a price and we just need to find hers,” Alex continued texting on her phone.  

“She won’t because she’s an attention seeking bitch. She’s never had a real job or ambition or anything going for her and just takes and takes and takes from everyone with no thought. I can give her the fucking world and she’ll come back with her hand still out!” Raven exploded, jumping up from her seat as the words escaped her lips before she could even hope to stop them. She buried her face in her hands and turned away from both of them as she heard them in the space, instantly regretting them. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

Michael sighed and gestured toward the door, Alex walking out of the room with him. He closed the door behind them.

“So I take it there’s some bad blood there?” Alex asked as she leaned on the door. 

“Lots of it. You know how family shit is… lots of heavy ass baggage there. Let me talk to her and I’ll call you tonight with a game plan. I think she just feels betrayed and upset and needs to process all that.” 

“Understood,” Alex raised her hands in surrender. “Take your time, give her what she needs. Sorry this had to happen as soon as you came back. She seemed really happy when y’all got off the plane, I didn’t mean to ruin it.” 

Michael shook his head. “Doing your job isn’t ruining anything. But my guess is the timing of this, on her sister’s part, wasn’t random. Sucks too… the past week was the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her, first time she seemed actually happy.” Michael stared through the glass panels of his office door to watch her. He could see the tension in her shoulders from all the way over here, could tell they were shaking slightly from silent tears. 

He turned away to look back at Alex whose eyes were big with shock. 

“What?” 

“You’re in love with her.” 

“Alexxxx…” he dragged out her name, his manager scoffing and dragging him by the arm further away from the door. 

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Bakari. I’ve run a couple PR relationships in my time and most fail miserably. Been trying to figure out why this one seems to be working so well… I knew it wasn’t cause you’re that good of an actor, no shade. It’s because you… Michael Bakari Jordan love her. You’re not having to play for the cameras because you’re actually in love with her. Look me in my eyes and tell me I’m wrong.” 

Michael sucked his teeth. “I love her.” He admitted. “And I know what you’re gonna say… it can’t work and it’s stupid and I’ll need to end it like we always planned. I know, I got it.” 

He started to move past her when her hand grabbed his bicep to stop him. 

“I was actually gonna say that I’m happy for you. Been waiting for you to wise up and find someone for real. If she’s what you want, I support it and you 100%. And we can figure out how to spin it.” She jerked her head back toward the office. “Go take care of your girl. Call 

me later.” 

They shared a hug before Michael disappeared back into the office. Raven sniffled and quickly wiped her tears away before standing up and walking over to him. She tried to put a positive look on her face and tone in her voice as she spoke. 

“I’m sorry… that outburst was m-mean and totally unnecessary. And not helpful. She’s right, we need a game plan and everything. Where’s Alex? I want to apologize and then I can fix this.”

He perched on the edge and widened his stance so he could pull her in between his legs. His arm wrapped around her waist as he pulled her into his chest. He did not like how she braced her forearms against his chest to avoid fully melting into his embrace. 

“I don’t need you to do anything and Alex doesn’t need an apology. She’s fine. I care more about whether you’re good or not. You’re upset.” 

She shook her head. “I’m not upset.” 

Michael raised an eyebrow. “You just called your sister an attention seeking bitch. Ain’t gon’ hear an argument from me but that’s not like you. You’re pissed, rightfully so. Tell me why though, don’t bottle that shit up.” 

Raven stared at him for a moment, her mouth opening and closing a couple times as she tried to find the words to tell him. Tell him that she was near out of relentless hope and optimism, that a not-so-small part of her hated her sister and wished she never had to see her again, that she wanted to cut her and her dad out of her life completely but she wasn’t brave enough to be truly alone so she couldn’t, that a bigger part of her wanted to call TMZ and tell them all about how horrible her family has been to her her entire life, that it cut deeper than she imagined it would to read her sister describe a relationship between them that had always been her dream but she actively denied her. She wanted to tell him that she was tired, that she felt guilty and ashamed for dragging him into this mess, that she didn’t deserve his care and kindness because all she had done was ruin his life.

It was all too much, the avalanche of emotions she felt picked up speed and power with every moment she stood in his presence. And she needed it to stop, needed to throw up some type of blockade so she was not run over and drowned by it. She needed walls again, barriers. And the only way she could think to recreate those was to put both physical and emotional distance between herself and the man in front of her. He was the only person who forced her to exist in her vulnerability, to feel everything and not shy away from it. But that was dangerous. She was not built for it. Once the avalanche hit, she knew she would not get back up. So, she had to get out. 

So she did the only thing she could think of, she threw up the walls of a working girl. She knew they would not hold for long, not with his persistence, but they would hold long enough for her to reign it all in again. Long enough for her to lock her feelings back up in their cage where they belonged. 

“I’m not angry.” Her tone left no room for argument as she pried herself out of his embrace and walked back to the couch to grab her bag off the floor. “I’m not angry. Kiara’s not a… bad person. She’s just… Kiara’s the Sun and I imagine the Sun would be upset if Pluto tried to steal its spotlight too. She’s the center of my family’s world and she hates it when it seems like I’m trying to take that away. It’s fine. I’ll give her whatever she needs to feel like the Sun again and that I humbled myself back to my position as Pluto. Everyone wins.” She said it in such a matter-of-fact way that, if he didn’t know her, he would have missed the bitterness in her words. 

“You don’t need to pretend with me, Rae. You can be upset.” 

“Nothing to be upset about. This is just how it is… I’m used to it. She wants something and she knows I’m gonna give it to her. I’ll call her and figure out what she wants and we’ll fix this.” 

She started to fiddle on her phone before Michael pried it out of her hand and threw it on his desk. 

“I don’t give a fuck about what your sister wants right now… I care about what you need.” 

“I don’t really need anything from you or anyone else right now.” Her words clipped and colder than Michael had ever heard her before. “Least of all a damn therapist.” 

Her heart broke at the hurt that flashed across his eyes but she decided that was fine. She needed distance and however she achieved that, even if it was by pushing him away, it would work for her. However, before he could respond, her phone started to buzz loudly on the desk. 

“Speak of the devil.” Michael handed Raven her phone back, her sister’s name popping up across the screen. 

“Hey Kiara.” She put the phone on speaker phone so Michael could hear. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t call me all day, I know you saw the article.” 

Raven and Michael shared a knowing glance that made Michael’s blood boil. She had done this just to outshine Raven who had been in the media and tabloids multiple times in the last week from their trip. Michael had guessed that but knowing her sister went to such lengths to diminish her sister bothered him far more than he could describe. Was there no one in his girl’s life that allowed her to shine? 

“Yea I saw it. I’m sure you also saw that Michael and I weren’t in the country. We just saw it when we landed about an hour ago.” 

“Yea I saw you both... Why didn’t you invite me??” 

Raven let out a small huff. “Do you even have a passport?”

“No… but I could’ve gotten one. it's not fair that you get to go while I’m stuck here. And with my favorite actor. All my friends sending me clips of your stories and pictures and shit. And I didn’t even know you were gonna be there. And I had to lie and tell them that you invited me but I couldn’t go. You don’t include me in shit and you keep makin’ me look fuckin’ stupid. You probably didn’t think about me once!”

“I mean no, you weren’t the first thing that came to mind when my boyfriend invited me on a trip to Paris. I’m allowed to have and enjoy experiences on my own. Also no one forced you to lie, who would have expected you to be invited on a trip with me and my boyfriend?” 

She heard Kiara scoff on the other side of the phone. “‘My boyfriend,’” she mimicked back. “You better enjoy this lil 15 minutes of fame you’re getting from him cause it won’t last. Ain’t like you’re worth his time. He’ll wise up, realize he needs a real woman, a girl like me.” 

“Did you want something?” Raven interrupted, turning her head from Michael so he could not see just how deeply her words cut. She would never argue that she was good enough for the man sitting next to her but hearing someone else validate those insecurities hurt.. Her sister certainly knew which wounds to cut into. “Or was your tell all just to ruin my trip?” 

“Oh well… None of this would’ve happened if you had gotten me even one of the things I asked for weeks ago. Like damn, I know he’s busy but he don’t even have a real job. He could come out and met me when I asked.” 

Michael’s face twisted up in a look of faux offense that would have been a perfect gif, which made the edges of Raven’s lips curl into a small smile as she stifled her laugh. How did he manage to make her smile even when she felt utterly incapable of the action? 

“Acting is a real job, Kiara. And I invited you all here to meet him. But no, I wasn’t gonna ask him to get you a Birkin, I don’t even have a Birkin.”

Michael resisted the urge to cut in and ask her if she wanted one. Because he could easily have one at the house by sunset if she did. 

“Dad and I can’t afford to jet set out to LA… the hotels, the food, all that shit. We’re barely getting by as it is.” 

Raven rolled her eyes. “Barely getting by” when they both worked and Raven often paid most of the major bills. 

As she was talking, Michael gestured for her to mute the phone. “Tell her I’ll pay for the flights and invite them to Thanksgiving.” At Raven’s wary face, Michael just nodded. “Just trust me.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the price of the flights was the issue. H-how about we pay for the flights and your hotel and��� you could come for Thanksgiving this year? Michael’s family are great cooks so it’ll be nice. And you can meet him?” 

“Really?? Thanksgiving at Michael’s house?” 

“Yea,” the words were almost painful to get out. Part of her wanted to believe this could be a good thing but the more logical part knew that it would not soften anything between all of them. After all, they were not coming to see her, they were coming to gawk at Michael. “But you can’t talk to the media anymore, Kiara. Seriously, you can meet him and everything but you can’t go give a tell all to TMZ or Page Six or any of them anymore. Understand?” 

“Fineeeee. No more media. I’ll tell dad. Send me the flight and hotel information. Make sure to put us up somewhere nice… you know like the Ritz or a five-star hotel. And can you have a car for us while we’re there? We’re gonna wanna sightsee and everything.” 

“Of course,” she muttered through gritted teeth. 

“Ok. See you then, bye.” 

Raven clenched her phone in her hand, resisting the urge to chuck it across the room. 

“Damn, sis’s got expensive taste,” Michael muttered. 

Raven’s laugh was cold and humorless. “It’s easy to have expensive taste when it’s not your money. You sure about this? Thanksgiving? Here?” 

“What? Thanksgiving is the time people spend with family. We can get a nice group shot and they can feel included. And I’ll get her somethin’ expensive and nice… nothin’ crazy. That’s all she seems to want anyway. Hearing how she talks to you… I don’t want ‘em here anymore than you do but this is the best solution. You had plans or somethin’?” 

“No, no… I just didn’t… I didn’t even know I was invited to the Jordan Family Thanksgiving dinner,” she chuckled, pulling at the sleeve of her jacket awkwardly.  

Michael’s face twisted up in confusion. “Of course you’re invited. Moms would kill me if I didn’t. But yea I guess I should’ve asked if you had plans first. What do you usually do?”  

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” 

“Nothing. I order Chinese and I pick a marathon of movies to watch in bed. Same with Christmas except I usually pick a new recipe to try and I always watch the Grinch,” she chuckled. 

“You spend Thanksgiving and Christmas alone?” 

She shrugged and gestured toward her phone. “If you had to pick between alone and that, which would you choose?” At his silence, she nodded. “Exactly. They never want to see me anyway so I make it easy on everyone.” 

“Well, this year’s gonna be different.” 

Raven scoffed. “How so?” 

Michael closed the distance between them and rested his hands on her hips. “Well, one, you’ll have me, which means your family will be on their best behavior. If they aren’t, two, you have me and my family as a buffer. And three, you have me… and I ain’t gon’ tolerate disrespect like that in my house. You say the word and dinner’s over.” 

“You can’t kick people out of your house for me,” she whispered, her eyes avoiding the intense stare in his. 

“Who says I can’t? Thought I’d made that clear by now that I’d do anything for you. And when you’re with me, I’m not just gon’ protect you physically… all of you is safe with me.” 

Those walls she threw up? Already starting to crash down around her. Why does he do this to me?? And why can’t I resist it? She thought to herself as she looked at him. 

“Thank you. But hopefully, they’ll be on their best behavior and then who knows, maybe they’ll see your family and want to turn a new leaf? This could be good?” In her heart, she knew that would not be how this particular story played out but she had to try… had to hope and dream that it could be different. She studied him for a sign that he agreed, and believed her. But he offered her nothing but a peck on the forehead. 

“Yea, maybe.” 

They stood there for a moment before Raven felt the overwhelming urge to run again. She hated this feeling… the contrasting emotions of wanting to melt into him and run from him at full speed. 

“D-do you think Allen would mind taking me home?” 

“I thought you were gonna stay with me tonight?” 

“Yea but I thought we were going to the condo… you want me to stay the night… here?” 

“I just thought after last week…” he stopped himself. “Here is just more comfortable than the condo. Besides, ma asked if you could stay for dinner so she can meet you. Wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would you?” At her continued expression of speculation, Michael added. “She also has been buggin’ the hell outta me to meet you so honestly, you’d be savin’ my ass.” 

Raven smiled and nodded. There was not anything but wallowing and frustration waiting for her back at her own apartment. And she had loved falling asleep in Michael’s arms during the last week. She was not ready to fall asleep alone again. 

“Just remember that next time you’re punishing me,” she winked at him. 

“Deal.” 

***

“Bakari!” Donna called over to Michael who was standing outside with his dad overseeing the fried turkey for dinner. 

“What’s up, ma?” He jogged over to her as she continued moving around the kitchen. Michael had offered, as he did every year, to have dinner catered but his mother could not dream of not cooking Thanksgiving dinner with her own two hands. Michael never pressed too hard though because he knew no caterer would ever beat his mom and dad’s cooking. 

“I think a certain girl needs your attention more than your father and that turkey,” she gestured toward Raven whose hands were filled with neatly folded napkins as she sat each one on each place setting around their giant farm style table. 

Michael’s eyes scanned over her body. He could see the tension in her shoulders but she had been tense since they woke up that morning. She had also been quiet all day, simply getting up and heading down to the kitchen to assist his mother. While she was more than happy for the help and it gave the two a chance to chat and bond, Michael knew Raven’s motives were not completely altruistic. She needed the distraction. 

“She’s setting the table, what’s wrong?” 

His mother lowered her voice. “She’s set and reset that table 5 times now in between asking me if I need help 100 times and apologizing for her family being late.” She gestured toward the pitcher which held a fall sangria for dinner. “Poor girl’s been on her feet helpin’ me all day and she’s a dream but she needs to relax. Pour her a drink, get her outta my kitchen, and make her sit down till dinner, please?” 

“Yes ma’am.” He kissed his mom on the cheek before quickly grabbing a glass and pouring a tall drink before walking over to her. 

“I think those napkins will be fine wherever you put them, baby girl,” he whispered in her ear, causing Raven to jump slightly. 

She clutched her chest, glancing down at the table setting and set of napkins in her hand. “Sorry… was in my own head. Something about it still doesn’t look right still,” she whispered as she started to rearrange the setting in front of her again. 

Michael eyed her for a moment before grabbing the things out of her hand and setting them down. He called for his sister to take over setting the table before grabbing Raven’s hand and pulling her behind him into his bedroom upstairs. He closed the door and handed her the glass. 

“Drink.” He instructed. 

Raven took a sip before lowering the glass again to hand back to him. 

“Nope, drink the whole thing and then tell me why you’re so scared.” 

“I’m not scared.” 

“Yea you are. Tell me why.” Michael wasn’t dumb. Raven had been off since her family landed in LA, more tense, quieter and not herself. He wished he could get the version of her from Paris back but that woman was buried deep beneath the seemingly never-ending bull her family put her through. 

Raven took another big gulp of the drink before sitting on the edge of Michael’s bed, her dress riding up her bare thighs slightly. His eyes sparked with lust but he tempered himself. That was not the point of bringing her up here. 

“I’m not… scared. That’s not what it is. I just… Well, first, I’m frustrated because they’re late. I explicitly told them 2 so they could meet everyone and chat and mingle and it’s almost 4. I spent over an hour on that damn charcuterie board. And they haven’t called me or texted or anything. And now your mom probably thinks I was raised by inconsiderate ass wolves.” 

“Rae, my mom doesn’t care in the slightest. Food wasn’t gonna be done at 2 anyway so they haven’t missed anything or messed up anything. And you know that. So what’s really bothering you? We aren’t leaving this room til you tell me.”

She sucked her teeth in annoyance before sighing. She knew he would make good on his promise not to let her leave until she was honest. 

“I’ve lived in LA for years. Did my masters out here, became a published author here, built a life here and you know how many times I’ve asked them to visit? And the first time they come, it's not even to see me. It’s to meet you. They’ve been in LA for 3 whole days… you know they haven’t made an effort to see me once? Never mind the fact that every restaurant they have a reservation to, we booked. Every excursion, you booked and paid for. And it shouldn’t bother me,” she whispered, throwing the entire drink back before wiping the corner of her lips. “It shouldn’t… bother me. Usually it doesn’t bother me. After all, this’s been it, my whole life. But since I met your family… I see how you are with them a-and I spend time with you all and it’s like breathing in rare fresh air? A-and I dunno, it just… the polluted air is a lot harder to breathe in than it used to be.”  

Since they returned from Paris, Raven had become a staple in the Jordan household. They still returned to the condo some nights after dates as it was often easier than getting back to his mansion in the hills. Raven had fallen in love with Michael’s family and it seemed his family had taken quite a liking to her as well. His nephew loved to have Raven read to him as she did the best silly voices, and she, his mom, and sister had already gone out without Michael for manis, pedis, and dinner - with his card, of course. 

Raven would never forget their first dinner the night they got back from Paris. She had been in such a bad mood but ten minutes at the table with Michael’s entire family had lightened her spirits significantly. His dad was charming and told stories that had Raven’s muscles aching from laughter; his mom so sweet and spent half the dinner asking questions about Raven’s book after having it finished it while they were away; his brother was quiet but he and Michael’s friendship made her heart want to melt; and his sister was witty and made Raven want to be her friend immediately. Everytime Raven spent time with them, they made her feel like part of the family. And she fell into it, despite her efforts to avoid it, with ease, like she had been part of the fabric for years. It caused some guilt to swell as she remembered that the girl they loved so much was a lie and that she and Michael were deceiving them. However, as her own family continued to disappoint her, it was nice to be a part of something so pure and loving. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Michael’s sister poked her head into the room. “But your family’s car just pulled up.” 

Raven immediately stood up and handed the wine glass back to Michael. She went over to the full-length mirror in his room to adjust her outfit and ensure she looked perfect before putting on the most forced smile Michael had ever seen grace her lips. 

“Come on, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.” 

Michael grabbed her arm to stop her as she tried to walk around him. 

“I told myself I’d stay out of it… your family, your rules. But word of advice, if you’ll let me?” When she said nothing, he continued. “People treat you how you allow them. And just because you’ve allowed this disregard for 30 years doesn’t mean you have to allow it now or that you deserve it. It hurts more now because you know you deserve more. And you’ve experienced more. So demand more.” 

“And if they don’t give it?” Raven’s voice broke slightly with that question because she knew what his answer would be, what she should have done many years ago but did not have the courage to do.  

“Somethin’ isn’t always better than nothin’. Especially when that somethin’ is just dead weight you have to drag around behind you. No one ever got far with dead weight.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, Raven desperately wanting to melt into him and the comfort he provided. He laced his fingers in hers and kissed her hand. “That’s all I’m gonna say. We’re gonna have a good time, promise. You’re with me so you know I gotchu. You ready?” 

“Yea, I think so,” she smiled at him before following him out of his room and downstairs. 

As they descended the stairs, she was unsurprised to find the deep baritone of her father filling the foyer of Michael’s mansion as he greeted everyone. Raven fixed her face to maintain a smile as she and Michael finally made it to the bottom of the stairs. She could feel her sister’s eyes studying her, taking in her designer dress, the signature red bottoms of her heels, and the diamond necklace and earrings glistening against her skin that Michael had bought her in Paris. It may have been a role, but Raven could not lie, she enjoyed dressing the part of a movie star’s girlfriend more than she thought she would. A petty part of her also did not hate the way her sister’s nose seemed to flare with jealousy at it. 

“How y’all doin? I’m Michael?” Michael stepped forward and offered her father and sister a hug. 

Raven’s eyes narrowed as her sister tried to linger in the very chaste hug Michael offered. Neither of them acknowledged her as they introduced themselves to Michael and his family, Raven awkwardly teetering on her heels behind him. 

“It’s so great to meet you, son. Loved that Tom Clancy movie of yours. Watch it all the time,” her dad boasted as if he was Michael’s greatest fan. 

Raven rolled her eyes behind Michael, knowing how much he hated when the first thing out of someone’s mouth when he meets them is their favorite role of his. 

“Thank you, thank you. That was a fun one.” Michael reached behind him and pulled Raven to his side. He protectively tucked her under his arm and smiled down at her. “Great girl you have here.” 

“Hey dad,” Raven offered, stepping forward to accept the half hug her father offered. She knew it was merely for show but she accepted it anyway. “Kiara,” her tone made her seem far more excited to see both of them than she was. But unlike her family, she was painfully aware of the studious eyes of Michael’s family watching them. And while their foundation had cracks the size of the Grand Canyon in it, she did not want Michael’s family to see them. 

Her sister could not even stop eye fucking Michael long enough to give her a hug. She merely nodded in her direction. 

Michael, thankfully, ended the awkward silence between the family members by gesturing for everyone to follow him to the kitchen. There, the island was heavily laden with food that his mom deemed ready to serve. Everyone grabbed serving dishes and started helping move things to the table. Seeing an opportunity to grab her father and her sister, Raven pulled them off to the side for a moment while Michael’s family got ready for dinner. 

There was an awkward silence as the three of them stood in Michael’s living room before Raven found her voice again. She did not know why she was nervous, this was her family after all. 

“Just wanted to see how the trip’s going? A-and ask if y’all had plans tomorrow. Thought maybe, you could come see my apartment? And then maybe we could go hiking to the Hollywood sign, it’s such a nice view of the city. And Michael got us all reservations at a new Japanese spot tomorrow night.” 

Kiara turned her nose up at the mere idea. “Hiking?? No. Dad’s taking me shopping tomorrow on Rodeo Drive. It’ll probably take up the whole day, sorry. But dinner with Michael sounds good.” 

Raven’s heart deflated a bit. Another outstretched hand pushed away. “Oh… yea of course. Shopping sounds fun. Maybe I could meet you all?” 

“That’s ok. We know you’re busy,” her dad interjected, waving his hand to dismiss her suggestion. 

“Oh… well, it’s just… you leave Saturday, I wanted to spend some time with y’all before you leave? I tried calling you both, I haven’t seen you all week. I invited you all out here, thought we’d get to at least spend a little time together before you leave.” 

“We’re spending time together right now. We’ve been really busy. We came to meet Michael and enjoy the city. That’s what we’ve been doing. Besides, we all know Michael paid for us to come, not you.”

Raven scoffed, already frustrated and they had not been there for more than 5 minutes. She regretted everything about this plan. Her time with Michael’s family, this sanctuary she had found with them in his home, now felt tainted as if their mere presence had poisoned that sweet, fresh air. She knew she should have been more excited to see them, after all, it had been longer than she could remember since she saw them in the flesh. But now, that small part of her that never wanted to see them again only seemed to get larger and larger with every moment she stood in their presence. 

Why do you even bother?

“Oh, should I start itemizing everything I’ve paid for in the last decade? Is that the best way to get yall to, you know, actually care to spend time with me? I mean I’ve been asking y’all to come out this way for years. I just thought… since we haven’t really seen each other in a while, this could be a good chance to reconnect. But shopping is more important than me, everything seems to be,” she muttered more to herself than to them. Before her sister could cut in with another smart comment, Raven added. “Can you make sure to thank Michael for this trip you’re enjoying so much? He really went all out of y’all.”

“You don’t need to lecture me on good manners, Raven. I did raise you both,” her father spoke up, clearly annoyed and bored of this conversation. 

Raven bit down the retort that she was not sure please and thank you were even phrases in their vocabulary and just nodded. 

“Is that all?” her sister asked cooly. 

“Yea, yea that’s all.” 

Both of them immediately left to return to the dining room where Michael’s family gathered, leaving Raven in the living room. She let out a deep shaky breath as a welcomed face popped out around the corner. However, she cringed slightly, fearful that he heard that entire exchange. 

She walked over to him, Michael immediately pulling her into a tight embrace. Her head thudded against his chest. “Please tell me you didn’t hear any of that.” 

“Don’t think me lying to you is gonna make you feel any better.” His fingers brushed aside the curls that spilled into her face. .

His hand rubbed soothing circles into her back before he kissed her on the top of her head. This time Raven did not even attempt to shy away, she fully melted into his embrace, at least as much as she could without breaking down. 

“Say the word and they’re gone,” he reminded her, leaning back so he could look in her eyes. 

Raven could tell he was completely serious, that he would kick both of them out without a second thought or a care. However, she knew that was not a possibility. 

“As much as I hate it, we need them, remember?” She sighed. “For once, I do actually need them. So I’m gonna do what I’ve always done.”

“And what’s that?” 

She shrugged, pulling herself out of his embrace. “Suffer through it.” She answered simply. 

“Anything I can do to help?” 

“Keep my glass full,” she answered bluntly. “I can already tell it’s gonna be a long fucking afternoon.”

***

“So Kiara, what do you do?” Donna asked as she sat down from transitioning the dinner dishes out and replacing them with dessert. 

Raven did not know how she was going to eat the slice of apple pie Michael cut for her. Everything had been so delicious, she had eaten two plates and would have gotten a third if her sister had not made a backhanded, loud compliment about her food and her figure. While she could count the number of plates she had eaten with ease, the same could not be said for the glasses of sangria. 

She had not lied when she said she needed it. Tipsy Raven cared far less about her sister’s consistent jabs to make her feel inferior and puff herself up to Michael nor did she care about how her father objectively ignored her for the entire dinner. He talked of her and around her but not once did he direct a question or comment to her. She could not tell which slight bothered her more, the disrespect or the disregard.  

“I was doing hair for a while but I really love to cook so I’m going back to school to be a chef.” 

Everyone around the table offered the appropriate congratulations and well wishes while Raven merely smiled and stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Kiara changed career paths about as often as she changed boyfriends, which was damn near monthly. Being a chef was just another way to throw her dad and Raven’s money down the toilet. 

“Once I finish school, maybe you can float some clients my way? My dream is to be a personal chef.” 

Raven downed her glass before filling it again. She found that drinking was the only way to stop herself from commenting on everything they did that frustrated her. However, that was an incredibly foolish drinking game to play. Because everything they did today seemed to frustrate her, every slight seemed amplified now that it was in the presence of Michael and his family. Each one fueled that anger she often ignored and suppressed. She should have known this was coming, that they would try to ask him for favors. She didn’t even ask him for favors. All they did was take and it was one thing to do that to her, but Michael did not deserve it. 

You don’t deserve it either, a small voice that sounded oddly like the man sitting next to her reminded her. 

“Maybe finish school first before you start chatting up my man for clients,” Raven teased, keeping her tone light and playful though she knew Kiara could see the lack of amusement in her eyes. 

“Well, we all gotta start somewhere right? Can’t all be big time like you, sis?” 

Raven smiled, “Well, you can be if you work hard… and don't rely on boyfriends, dad and I for everything,” she added the last part under her breath, however, she knew her sister could hear her. Michael’s hand went to rest of her thigh as if he could sense the change in her demeanor and mood almost immediately. 

“Oh we loved Raven’s book,” Donna offered, transitioning the conversation away from her sister. “Such a talented and vivid writer. I probably talked the poor girl’s ear off when we first met about it. Was she always like that?” 

Raven’s dad chuckled. “Yea she always had her nose buried in a book or a notebook writing somethin. She used to write these little short stories, got a drawer full of ‘em back at the house.” 

“That’s so sweet. I’m not much of a fantasy reader,” Donna admitted. “But she had me hooked from the first chapter. Such a beautiful story.” 

“Yea the book was really great,” he added lamely, unable to offer much beyond that because, as Raven knew, he had not read her book. “I always encouraged them both to follow their dreams, great to see her accomplish so much.” 

Something about hearing him talk about her passion, her life’s work, the thing she tolled and fought for and had to give up, as if he cared about it at all made all those years of suppressed rage finally boil over. She could suffer through a lot, it was true, but she could not listen to that, listen to him lie and pretend to be supportive or caring when he was nothing of the sort. And now, she did not even care who knew it. This was simply not a piece of fiction she would allow him to sell.  

“What was your favorite part of the book, dad?” Raven had not said much throughout dinner, allowing her sister to monopolize most of the conversation. However, it seemed as though Michael was the only person who realized the unfortunate turn their Thanksgiving dinner was about to take. He leaned in closer to her, quietly whispering in her ear but he knew his sweet nothings meant just that at this point: nothing. She was too far gone to hear them or register them. Her body felt as if it was almost vibrating with rage. He wished he could take her outside and give her a few plates to smash but he knew his mom would not appreciate that. 

“Oh all of it. Whole thing was great.” 

“Huh…” she muttered, taking a long gulp of her drink before reaching for the pitcher to refill it. “Who’s your favorite character?” 

“Maybe we should slow down on…” Michael quietly whispered in her ear, subtly trying to beat her to the pitcher but she grabbed it first and poured another large glass. She raised her hand to stop his sentence. 

“Didn’t realize there’d be a pop quiz,” he let out a deep chuckle as the tension around the table grew to levels that were impossible to ignore. 

“Not a pop quiz. Just tell me one thing about the book you loved so much and encouraged me to write. Favorite plot twist, favorite scene, favorite character… hell, name one character you remember at all?”

“What the fuck, Rae? What’s your problem?” 

Raven let out a humorless laugh as she leaned back in her seat. She downed her entire drink in one go, sitting the glass down before folding her arms casually. 

“What’s my problem? What’s my problem? Right now, my problem is this fiction you’re spinning as if you give a rat’s ass about my book, my career, or me when if someone put a gun to your head, you wouldn’t be able to tell them the name of my book, let alone anything about it. My problem is the fact that I invited you all here to spend time with me, my boyfriend, and his family, all for you to ignore me for most of dinner. My problem is that you wax poetic about stories I wrote as a kid when, if you had ever bothered to read a single one of them, you would have seen a child writing herself into literally any other world and family to escape the pitiful one she had. I have a lot of problems, too many to list right now. But the common denominator in all of them is you two.” 

Everyone’s movements and side conversations halted at her outburst. The silence and her deep breaths were only interrupted by Michael’s brother accidentally dropping his fork against his dinner china, the loud clanging filling everyone’s ears as they stared at Raven and her father.

She was not one to start a scene or draw attention to herself. But she could not let any of this go on for another moment. 

“Baby… why don’t we take a break for a minute?” Michael asked, standing to pull her chair out. Raven knew that if she sat there for a minute longer, she’d lose whatever little composure she had left, so she forced herself to heed Michael’s advice. She wiped her lips and immediately threw her napkin down on the table to stand and leave. 

“Excuse me.” 

However, as she turned around, she heard her father’s voice. 

“I didn’t mean to cause an issue. I tried my best with her and Kiara but you know, some kids are just harder to handle than others.”

As soon as those words hit her ears, she exploded. Before she even realized it, she had returned to the table and was leaning over it yelling at her father. 

“‘You tried your best??’ YOU TRIED YOUR BEST? You never tried! All you’ve done is give the bare minimum and suffer through my presence like I’m was a fuckin’ pest you couldn’t get rid of!” 

“You think you can talk to me that way? I’m still your father! All I’ve ever done is love you and take care of you.” 

Raven scoffed, throwing her hands in the air. Michael shifted so he was standing behind her, an arm wrapped around her waist as if to stop her from jumping across the table. It was not that he thought she would actually do anything, baby girl did not seem like the scrapping type. But he prayed his presence would calm her down if nothing else. This was a side of her he had never seen before. He could not lie, it was kinda sexy, seeing her finally stick up for herself and be assertive. 

In a part of her brain that felt distant and detached, she could feel Michael’s presence, hear his soft whispers to calm down. And she knew and appreciated what he was trying to do: stop her from doing something she’d ultimately regret. But at that moment, she did not know if she wanted to be stopped.

“All you’ve ever done is give me scraps! Scraps of support, scraps of your attention, but not an ounce of your love or affection. All to punish me for the sin of being born.” She had always bought into her family’s narrative that she was to blame for what happened. But it was as if the small voice that nagged at her her entire life was finally roaring. This was not her fault. No part of it was. “You can’t be mad at God for that shitty situation and you won’t be mad at mom for making her choice. So for 30 years, I’ve endured you hating me because you needed someone to be mad at. When you ignored birthday after birthday and accomplishment after accomplishment and need after need, I persisted in trying to win your love and win your affection. When you threw me out and cut me off after one year of college, I dusted myself off and kept going. When you rebuffed every attempt to reconnect and build a new relationship, I kept reaching out, kept trying. When you ignored me on every holiday and at every visit and everything, I still showed up. And when you ask for everything I have despite not deserving a cent of it, I give it. Every single time. Even after I lost my book deal last year and my career and didn’t know how I was gonna pinch pennies together for rent, I put myself and my needs last to help you two every single fuckin’ time. And you both expect me to be gracious for scraps while I kill myself to give you the Sun, Moon and stars and you take and you take and you take without so much as a thank you.” Every ‘take’ punctured by her hand slamming down on the farm-style dining table. “It’s not enough and I refuse to spend the next 30 years pretending it is. I’m done!” 

“God, you’re such an embarrassment,” Kiara muttered. 

“Oh fuck you, Kiara!” She cried out. “You miserable, attention-seeking bitch. You can say whatever you want about me but unlike you, I made something of my life and I did it all on my own. Meanwhile, you float through life without a single responsibility or thing to your name that someone else didn’t give you. And you can’t stand the fact that my life, despite both of your best efforts, is better than yours.” 

“Wow. Nice to know how you really feel about your family.” 

“I’ve never had a family. You both made damn sure of that. You want me out of your lives so bad? Fine. I’m out. Let’s see how far both of you get without taking from me. Get out. Both of you.” 

Raven had no authority to kick someone out of a house that was not even hers but she could not hope to care. She knew Michael would not argue with her or lobby for them to stay after she just cussed them out six ways to Sunday in front of his entire family. 

“You can’t kick us out!” 

“Yes she can,” Michael piped up, speaking for the first time since the blow up began. 

The intense stare down continued before her father and sister angrily stood up and stalked to the door. 

“And Kiara!” Her sister stopped walking to turn around to her. “Say another word about me or my relationship to the media and I won’t hesitate to tell this entire world what a shitty person and sister you are. See how your friends like that story then.”

Her sister merely glared at her before stomping out of the house behind their father. As soon as she heard the door shut, Raven felt the adrenaline in her system crash and the weight of what just happened set in. 

What the fuck did you just do? And in front of Michael’s family? 

She let out a shaky breath as a wave of shame hit her. “U-Um… I am… I am s-so so so sorry,” she whispered. She rang her hands together, unable to make eye contact with anyone in the room. She had not felt this embarrassed in a long time. “I-I should go too.” She pulled herself away from Michael and tried to race toward the door, ignoring his calls for her to stay. However, before she could leave the dining room, Michael’s mom stopped her. 

She grabbed the young woman’s hands and patted them softly. 

“No, no you aren’t. No one leaves my table till dessert is over. You’re gonna sit and finish your pie with family.” 

The tears brimming in Raven’s eyes spilled over. 

“I-I’m sorry for r-ruining dinner.” 

The older woman laughed. “That ain’t the first blow up this family’s seen at a dinner table… won’t be the last. Go on and sit down.” 

She steered Raven’s body back into Michael’s arms who pulled back her chair for her to sit. She ate her pie in silence, conversation flowing with ease around her. The Jordans acted as if her meltdown was just par the course, though she knew they were likely just trying to make her feel better. But still, she appreciated it. Within 15 minutes of eating dessert, the mood across the table felt lighter and easier than it had all day. Raven calmed down enough to laugh and joke. By the end of several rounds of drinks and a very rowdy spades game to cap off the evening, Raven’s heart and soul also felt lighter than they had in years.  

However, that quickly ended when she and Michael finally retreated to his suite for the evening. She collapsed onto the edge of his bed and kicked off her shoes, her movements sluggish and slow as if the weight of what she had done was finally creeping on her now that she was alone. 

“I’m… alone,” she whispered to herself. 

“What?” Michael crouched down in front of her, her eyes misting over slightly as she realized the truth. 

“I’ve always been alone for the most part… after my grandma died. And I couldn’t keep a relationship going for long ever. It’s always just been… me. But it was ok because even though they were awful, I still had… family a-and there was still hope that it could be something. But now… now I have no one cause they’ll never come around after what I said to them.” She rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand. “I don’t regret it, I was holding on to something that just wasn’t ever gonna be anything. But the dead weight was… something? Didn’t expect how empty I’d feel without it.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “It’s stupid,” she whispered. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat and stood up to walk to his bathroom. “Give me a minute to get my life together and then we can do what you actually pay me for and not this sad shit.”  

Michael watched as she dapped her eyes in the mirror to rid them of tears before she reached behind her and pulled down the zipper of her dress. She looked gorgeous, her body clad in another one of her lingerie sets from Paris. This one was a nude brown that perfectly matched her skin. He knew she was merely trying to use sex to move on and forget, and he would oblige. But he could not do so without saying one thing.

“You have me.” It was not a question, but a firm statement. A matter of fact statement that left no room for arguments or questions. 

Raven’s hands paused as she tried to fix her hair for a few minutes. She turned and smiled at him, closing the distance between them. 

“Yea I have you… But this’ll end and you’ll find the right girl for you and then…”she shook her head, not wanting to think about that: being alone or being without him. “Thank you… for today.” 

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Usually, Michael initiated their kisses and they were domineering, hurried and passionate. While this moment held the same passion, it was slow and measured, each second inching past them. And Raven used every second to convey what her simple thank you could not. She prayed he felt it and appreciated it, because at that moment, the small action was all she had left to give. She did not have the energy for grand speeches or words. 

She broke off their kiss and slid down to her knees, assuming the same position she did almost every time they had sex.

However, tonight, Michael decided he needed something different, that she needed something different. His finger gently lifted her chin so her eyes were on him.  

“You take care of me every time we have sex. Let me take care of you for once.” 

He did not let her question it as he helped her to her feet and led her to his bed, gently pushing her down. She let out a dramatic huff that made him chuckle. 

He stood over her for a moment, his eyes taking in the hills of her breasts, the soft panes of her stomach, her thick plush thighs. He often found himself just staring at her and this moment was no different, moments where he wanted to commit her beauty to memory, burn her image in his brain matter. 

“You are fuckin’ gorgeous,” he whispered. “You know how beautiful you are?” he asked as he sucked on the skin of her neck. 

She turned her head, giving him more access to the skin of her neck as he sucked and bit. She whimpered slightly as his kisses moved down her body, savoring the taste of her soft supple skin. He took his time, however, this felt completely different than when he teased her. Then, he was purposefully avoiding giving her what she wanted. Now, her moans created the roadmap he followed. His lips and hands lingered where she needed them to, only pausing to shower her with praises. As his kisses continued, Raven lost all control of her senses, of the world around her. Everything else, the pain and emotions of the day faded away as every thought in her mind and every cell in her physical body turned their focus on him.

“I love everything about you. The way you moan, the way you beg me for more, the face you make when I make you cum.”

“Michael, please,” she whimpered.  

He paused his ministrations and grasped her chin with a featherlike touch, her eyes focusing on him. 

“I’m gonna take care you, I promise. Always. Trust me.” He hoped that the look in his eyes conveyed the truth, that her pleasure was not the only part of her he would take care of. He would worship and care for her mind, body, and spirit. 

His fingers hooked into her lace panties and slid them off, settling between her plush thighs for his favorite meal of the day. Her eyes clenched shut as he spelled his adoration and love for her with his tongue on her clit. Michael had always been a generous lover but river always bent toward his pleasure. Every action, while it brought her pleasure, carried the reminder that it was not for her pleasure, it was for his. And she loved it, craved it, got off on it. It was one of the benefits of the arrangement to her. 

But it had been so long since she had had sex like this, where the river flowed toward her and only her, where someone was so committed to bringing her mind numbing pleasure and ensuring she knew she was cared for and safe. She knew why he was doing it, after seeing how unsafe she was with her own family. She knew it was not real but she could not close the gates to her heart fast enough and stop herself from feeling it, from enjoying it. Every touch was gentle and sweet and let her know she was safe in his arms, safe in his sanctuary. And even though she knew she could not stay there with him forever, she loved him even more for letting her in from the cold for a moment. 

Michael’s eyes never left her face as he devoured her, every moan, groan, and plea for mercy spurred him on. Her thighs clamped around his head as he pushed her farther and farther up her mountain to the peak of desire. He knew Raven’s body almost as well as he knew his own now, increasing his speed and efforts when he felt her legs shake and heard her moans grow louder. 

It did not take much longer for Raven to feel the snap of a powerful orgasm crash over her. She let out a continuous stream of praise and lewd words as she road those waves of sweet bliss. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Fuck, you taste so good.” He emerged from between her legs, kissing her deeply. 

He wrapped his arm around her waist and used his strength to hoist her farther up onto the bed. He placed her legs on his shoulders and lined himself up with her entrance. Raven offered him a raised eyebrow at the position choice, she could not remember the last time they did missionary on the bed like this. On creative surfaces, like tables? Sure. 

“I wanna look you in the eye when I make you cum. Keep your eyes on me, baby,” he whispered, Raven’s heart’s fluttering as she felt him fill her to the brim. 

“Fuckkkk,” she cried out as he drove into her deeply. Every stroke felt like heaven, a promised land he was so graciously sending her to. There was a vulnerability to the position that she had not expected, the way he looked at her with every thrust forward and retreat. 

“Look at me.” He demanded as her eyes fluttered closed. As soon as her eyes were trained on his, he uttered three words Raven never would have thought to hear from his lips. “I love you.” 

Raven was rendered speechless, her moans catching in her throat as she felt her stomach drop 100 stories. 

Did he say what I think he said? She thought to herself, her brain trying to cut through layers of pleasure fog to work properly. 

“You deserve the entire world, Rae. You deserve someone who’ll  give you this world… the sun, the moon, and the stars. And I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve this. But I’ll spend everything I have, I’ll give everything I am to make sure you got it. I want more than an arrangement and six months with you… I want you, all of you, for as long as you’ll allow me.” 

His words directly clashed with the narrative she had in her mind, the seeds of doubt life and her family had sowed. And despite her heart begging her to scream the words back at him, those doubts stopped her. She heard his words but she did not believe them or rather, she could not believe them.  

She did love him, she was so in love with him. It was a devastating, beautiful, painful, once-in-a-lifetime sort of love she thought she would only read in the pages of love stories. But she felt it… every devastatingly beautiful moment of it every time she was in his presence, every time she felt his touch, every time he comforted her or looked into her eyes. 

But the words, those three precious words, were stuck in her throat. A barrier of fear and doubt, made even heavier by the events of the day, weighed them down. Instead of celebrating that the man she so desperately loved felt the same about her, she could only focus on how that just could not simply be true. The story she had built in her mind that she was not good enough, that she did not deserve him, that he could never love her, a part of her brain clung to it as a lifeline. She had given Michael this grand speech about living and falling but she could not do it herself. Because if she gave in and  allowed him to love her, truly love her, and then this was all a lie? That was the crash she did not think she could survive. She could handle her family hurting her. It knocked her down but she could always get back up again. But Michael? He would be her armageddon. If he hurt her, she would not get back up again. 

The avalanche was hurling toward her once again, only this time she was standing at the bottom without a barrier or way to outrun it. She was mere feet away from being swept up by it and all the emotion and vulnerability it brought in its wake. The day had just been too much, too heavy. And emotionally, she had not been prepared for any of the twists and turns the day had brought. She suddenly felt overwhelmed, so out of control of everything, particularly her emotions, the one thing she usually had under control. 

She felt tears sting the back of her eyes but she knew they were not good tears, the tears Michael usually induced during sex. No, these were entirely different. She quickly realized she needed a break, a moment. And the only thing in this world that she could control in this particular moment was the man above her. He was the catalyst every single time, the cannon blast that started the avalanche, that forced her to feel everything all at once. And she needed that to stop. She needed him to stop. 

“Wakanda…” she choked out, her voice as broken and small as she felt. 

She did not have a chance to repeat it as Michael immediately stopped his movements in mid stroke, his face stricken and concerned. 

“Shit.” He slid out of her without a second thought  and braced himself over her, shocked to find tears streaming down her face, her body trembling. He  immediately grabbed the blanket that was hanging half off the bed, wrapping her nude form tightly in it. “Hey, hey. You’re ok, you’re ok. You’re having a panic attack. Deep breaths for me.”

Raven curled into a small ball under the blanket, gasping for breath. Michael pressed her hand into his chest. 

“Focus on me, baby girl. That’s it. Deep breaths.” 

She closed her eyes and focused on the faint thumps of his heart in his chest, the way it rose and fell against her hand as she tried to sync up her breathing to his. He held tightly to her hand as she took long deep breaths. It felt like hours passed before either of them moved, before she felt calm enough to speak, but she knew it had likely only been a few minutes. 

“First a concussion,” she wiped her tears. “And now, a panic attack. I must be the worst woman you’ve ever had sex with,” she let out a watery chuckle. 

“Or the best?” he offered in a voice so gentle and quiet, it made a new set of tears well up in her eyes. She did not deserve him. “What happened? Did I hurt you?” 

She shook her head. “N-no, you d-didn’t. I j-just couldn’t… you can’t look at me l-like that o-or keep doing stuff l-like this. Pretending you love me just to make me feel b-better.” She shook her head rapidly. “I know you feel obligated to be g-gentle and shit when I’m having a bad day. But i-it’s just confusing. I know t-this isn’t real a-and I c-cant take anyone else pretending to love me or care about me when they r-really don’t.”  

“I’ve never done anything for you that I didn’t want to do, Raven. I’m not kind and gentle with you because I feel obligated. I’m kind and gentle because I want to be, because you deserve it. Do you find yourself so undeserving of all these things that it is that hard to believe that I’m in love with you? That I do all this shit for you because this is real to me??” 

“There’s no way that is true! You don’t love me!” She argued. 

“Yes I do!” 

Raven wanted to pull her hair out and scream at him. “Stop saying that! W-we are just fantasies to each other, Michael! P-playing a role that the other needs filled and j-just because the fantasy is nice, doesn’t mean I should kid myself into believing it is real. You’ll toss me aside as soon as this agreement is done because everything you feel is based on a fantasy!”

“You aren’t some fantasy to me, Raven!” 

“Fine! Not a fantasy! But everything we are is conditional… even you have to admit that. I mean we have a fuckin’ contract! Everything we are is based on me fulfilling those conditions! You can dress me up like a girlfriend but I know what I am when the cameras go away, Michael. I’m the girl you met in a hotel who was paid to fuck you!” 

He jumped off the bed and grabbed his phone, thrusting it into her hand. “Robert Pearson. Call him.” 

“W-who is that?” she asked, completely bewildered by the change in the conversation. 

“He’s one of the top reporters at TMZ. Call him, call him right now and tell him this whole thing is a fuckin’ sham. Hell, want me to start an Instagram live for you so you can tell the whole fucking world? I’ll do it.” 

She threw the phone back on the bed and stood up, wrapping the blanket around her like a dress. “I’m not gonna fucking call anyone or do that!” 

“But you could! That’s my point! You could call TMZ right now and tell him this whole thing was a sham, sell a fuckin’ tell all and I’d still love you. I’d honestly thank you for it because then I wouldn’t have to pretend I only love you because of some arrangement. I could admit that I love you for you. I love you for your vulnerability, your spirit, the fact that you give and you give and expect nothing in return and don’t even stop giving all of yourself when everyone else would. I love that you talk in fuckin’ sonnets and monologues. I love your relentless optimism and hope. I love your smile, the way you can’t look someone in the eye when they compliment you but it lights up your entire being. I love that you’ve got a wild imagination and you're quirky and funny and…” he threw his hands up in the air. “I. Love. You. I am in love with you. You can keep telling me to stop saying it, you can ignore it, pretend you don’t hear it, you can reject it. But it won’t change it. I love you. No conditions, no expectations. Just you for you. The question is do you love me?” he demanded. 

“It’s not that simple!” She tried to move around him but he blocked her way. She needed to get out of her, needed to escape this chaos. “Move, Michael.” 

“No! It is that simple. Do you love me? Forget everythin’ else. What you think you do and don’t deserve. Do. You. Love. Me?” 

“Of course, I fuckin’ love you!” she cried out. “I fell in love with you the morning I woke up with a concussion and you were sitting in my hospital room. I love you! But t-there’s… no one loves me like that. What you’re claiming to feel… no one feels that for me a-and there’s no way that you, a man who could get any one of the billions of women on this planet, would be the first. There’s no way you would settle for loving me.” She let out a deep sigh. “A-and my heart can’t take it… I can’t take the rejection and pain from people I love who don’t love me back anymore. I c-can’t. Which means I can’t believe that you love me. I’ve taken all I can take a-and if I accept that you love me, then I risk you rejecting o-or hurting me. And when you do, it’ll kill me.” The last word hung in the air as she sank down to the floor by his bed, her head buried in her hands. 

Michael settled down on the floor next to her, his hand grasping hers as he intertwined their fingers. There was so much to unpack in her words, so much that he knew he would not be able to convince her of or solve in one night. But there was one thing he knew he could assure her of right then and there. 

“There were a hundred ways I could’ve spun what happened between us that first night, hundreds of ways I could’ve dealt with you that would not have led us to this moment. But I chose the road I chose, not so I could have a body to use or fix a crisis. But because you stole my soul the moment you turned around in that hotel room. Loving you isn’t fuckin’ settling, it’s everythin’ I’ve wanted for damn near a decade but didn’t think I could have again. We’ve been standing on the edge of this cliff, waiting for the other to be ready to jump for months now. And I’m ready and you’re holdin’ on for dear fuckin’ life. I’m askin’ you to let go and trust that I won’t hurt you. I know that’s scary… shit I’m scared too. But I’m willing to jump if you are.” His thumb wiped away her falling tears before kissing her on the forehead. “I’m not lookin’ for an answer tonight, love. I know today… this week’s been a lot for you. I didn’t mean to add another thing on top of all the other shit, I just… needed you to know how I felt.” 

“Don’t… don’t apologize. I-I j-just got overwhelmed b-by everything. It’s been a day of unexpected emotional confessions,” she chuckled. “I…” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m really scared. Scared of being hurt, scared of falling even more in love with you a-and another good thing being taken from me. B-But I want this for real with you too. I don’t wanna keep pretending what we have isn’t real when we know it is. If you’re ready to jump, so am I. And we can just be scaredy cats while we fall together?” 

He pulled her into his lap and pressed his lips to hers softly. “Not a fan of you callin’ me a  scaredy cat,” he teased. “But yea. I meant it when I told you, you’re safe with me. All of you. And I’ll do whatever I gotta do to make sure you believe that shit.” 

Her heart fluttered a bit. She knew he meant his words. If there was one thing she had always been with Michael, it was safe. And she adored that about him. 

“I love you,” she whispered. 

“I love the way that shit sounds. Say it again.” . 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” her lips tugged upward into a grin as he started peppering her face with kisses and having her repeat the phrase over and over again. He picked them both off the ground and continued kissing her and causing her to giggle as he placed her back in bed. 

He settled her under the covers and pulled her tightly into his arms. Their legs were quickly tangled in each other’s as she laid her head on his chest. They laid there in silence for a while before Raven sat up. As much as she enjoyed cuddling in his arms, Raven wanted more. Emboldened by their confessions of love, she pushed herself to her knees and straddled his hips. 

“You used your safe word. We ain’t gotta…” she pressed a finger to his lips stopping him. 

“I know what I want and need, Bakari,” she whispered, using his nickname, which was only reserved for family and close friends for the first time. Michael was not much of a crier but hearing his nickname on her lips made his heart skip one or two beats, made tears sting the back of his eyes.  “And I want you. You showed me how much you loved me… now let me show you.” She gave him a sly smirk before shifting between his legs to taste him. 

The pair lost track of how many times they moaned or screamed those three magic words to each other. But by the time they were finished, their bodies a tangled mess of limbs and bodily fluid, Raven knew, in her heart, that his words were true. And so she fell asleep nestled in his warm embrace, feeling true happiness with anther person for the first time in her life.

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r

***

A/N: The babes finally confessed their love for each other!!! Woohoo! How do you think our two lovebirds make the jump from fake romance to a real relationship? Thank you for reading! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought :)

[skyefall-12]

I doubt anyone will listen to this but I have so many thoughts about Kyojuro Rengoku in Demon Slayer and how he was written and how he ended up so here’s your warning before the read more:

🔥‼️MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD FOR MUGEN TRAIN ONWARD‼️🔥

With that out of the way…

Kyojuro Rengoku was written to die and is intentionally used to tug at heart strings while simultaneously inspiring other characters after his death.

It’s not something I see people talk about often. They say his death was tragic and awful, and it absolutely was. But, he was absolutely and without a doubt written purely to be killed off. In the anime they make it exceedingly obvious between one of the lines of dialogue he has in the first episode of the Mugen Train arc (an addition to the story that’s not in the manga):

“I promise to tell my father I came across you two. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

To his imagery in both the OP and the ED of the season.

In the OP, Rengoku faces right instead of left in the title card, which until the Inifinty Castle arc will be the opposite for every other character who faces left with Tanjiro. These other characters don’t die in their respective arc.

In the ED (this is legit the only shot I could get I’m sorry ;-;) Rengoku is surrounded by imagery of spider lilies. In Japanese media, more often than not characters associated with spider lilies will die at some point in their series if not incredibly soon.

But again these were exceedingly obvious on the part of the animators. They intended to make it clear that he was going to die, even from the start. I’m not even gonna get into his entire death scene because I am never strong enough for it (and everyone already knows “set your heart ablaze”) so let’s skip ahead to after his death when Tanjiro goes to visit the Rengoku family to impart Kyojuro’s last words and investigate the writings of the previous Flame Hashira to learn about Hinokami Kagura. While there, he gets into a spat with Shinjuro, Kyojuro’s father, about how he was physically abusive to Senjuro, Kyojuro’s younger brother, and learns that Shinjuro destroyed the notes in a drunken state.

The only thing that gets Shinjuro to change to better himself and to stop drinking is when Tanjiro tells him Kyojuro’s last words for him.

“Take care of your body.”

It’s the one and only thing to get Shinjuro to change. After that, Senjuro gifts Tanjiro Kyojuro’s sword guard to put on his own sword. It doesn’t come into play until the Swordsmith Village arc, but there’s more before that.

Later on in the Entertainment District arc, Tengen says he could never be like Rengoku and asks how he would fight the upper rank demons, to which Rengoku’s spirit responds;

“I could never be like you, either! Your sword skills are a thing of beauty! Though you do have too many wives!”

But after this he adds, “Look after Young Kamado, the yellow boy, and the boar head boy for me, Uzui.” before fading away. Tengen afterwards is inspired and does what his friend asks.

In Swordsmith Village, Rengoku is almost wholly unmentioned besides his sword guard, but it comes into play with Tanjiro asking it be added to his sword and later on that it saves Kotetsu’s life. Muichiro sees and cries remembering Rengoku, and when Tanjiro hears this, he tears up and thanks Rengoku for saving another life even after death.

Finally, in the current season of the anime Rengoku played a very small part in one of the Taishō era secret sections at the end of the episode where they encounter Muzan. They’re talking about how Mitsuri trained as Rengoku’s Tsuguko and how his training was brutal but fun when suddenly they hear his voice. He’s offscreen and when he speaks Mitsuri and Tanjiro look offstage to see him but when the camera changes he’s gone.

“That’s nostalgic. I remember it too. Finally, the time to fight Muzan Kibutsugi has come. I’m counting on you guys.”

After he speaks, Mitsuri says “Rengoku was just there, wasn’t he?” and Tanjiro affirms her question.

(I can’t add anymore photos after those so take my word for it from now on.)

The last bits of post death Rengoku lore that I remember is thus:

During the Infinity Castle arc, Tanjiro and Giyuu fight Akaza. Tanjiro wants revenge for Rengoku’s death, especially after Akaza insults him which results in iirc the first instance of Tanjiro swearing angrily at someone saying, “What did you say? You. You ass. Don’t talk about Rengoku-san.” During the fight, Giyuu almost falls victim to the same attack that killed Rengoku, but Tanjiro learns a new breathing technique that allows him to slash Akaza undetected.

Shinjuro is tasked to help protect Kiriya Ubayashiki with Tengen.

When Tanjiro is trying to fight becoming a demon, Rengoku, who had told him to hold his head high when he’s feeling disheartened and can’t go on, holds his head up the highest to allow for his friends and family to bring him back to humanity.

Senjuro and Shinjuro visit Tanjiro and co. in the Butterfly Mansion after the final fight with Muzan as he’s recovering.

And finally, the biggest one, at the very very end of the series after the timeskip with all the descendants and reincarnations of characters, Senjuro’s descendant is the reincarnation of Kyojuro, named Tojuro, and he’s the best friend of Tanjiro’s descendant and reincarnation named Sumihiko. Tojuro is the last of the descendants/reincarnations to be introduced, and the final panels are the two of them running to school together.

A good character comparison to make to Rengoku I think would be Maes Hughes from Fullmetal Alchemist/Brotherhood. He’s a very sweet, outgoing family man who loves his family more than life itself and who the main characters attach to as a parental/older sibling figure. Their influence throughout the rest of the show is clear and impactful and many things wouldn’t have happened unless they died. They were both characters written to be killed off and for their presence to tug on the heartstrings any and every time they’re brought up after their deaths.

Sorry for the wall but I’ve been dying to talk about this.

[lets-try-some-writing]

I had to ask this bc your teacher Optimus AU has me by the throat.

How would Optimus handle students or faculty who are just plain assholes to the people around them? I can’t help but think that it would be less of a righteous fury (oh he’d definitely be angry, but not just angry) and more of a mournful pity. You are so young, so small and so few in your years, he might think. Why would you give them all to misery? Why do you choose to see only the darkness in peoples hearts when there is so much beauty left in your world?

I'm so glad you like this AU! It similarly has me in a chokehold demanding I write more XD Also love this whole thought of Optimus being so old that he can't even really be mad and just disappointed.

Previous part here.

Children, All of Them

As a general rule Optimus greatly enjoyed his job as a teacher. It was a welcome relief from the weight of war and the burden of his position as Prime. It brought back old memories of better times when he was just the Head Archivist working cycle in and cycle out to teach and to catalogue. Being able to share the joys of his passion and the history of his people was something he found no end of happiness participating in. It certainly helped that many of his students and co-workers were wonderful people either just trying to get by or working hard because of their love for learning or teaching.

However not every student and faculty member Optimus worked with was a ray of sunshine.

He was well aware of the fact that he would likely have less than pleasant individuals around him at times. As such he had long prepared himself to handle aggression in the way that such feelings normally presented themselves on Cybertron. He was fully prepared to endure unsettling EM fields, threatening messages, non-verbal insults, quiet battles of wit, subtle touches that were intended to be painful, and much much more. On Cybertron aggression among the more civil members of society was always a near silent affair and never made explicitly public. It was always a dangerous game played between the involved parties and no others, at least if one knew the rules of high society.

Optimus was ready, that is until he came to the rather saddening realization that these humans, these infants in his mind were far less reasonable in expressing their distaste.

Every student and co-worker of his had bad days, it was to be expected and he always did what he could to help them. If a fellow teacher was stressed with work, he would take some of it from them and help them get things in order. If cleaning staff were stuck with too much to do and feeling disheartened, Optimus would remain behind long after hours to assist and bring out some snacks for them to thank them for their efforts. Almost the entirety of his paycheck went straight back into gifts for his fellow teachers and his students. He just wanted them all to be as happy as possible as they worked. Teaching and study should be fun, not a struggle just to endure.

His efforts usually solved the problem fairly quickly, however there were a few individuals who just refused to be reasonable.

The vice principle was a piece of work and reminded Optimus far more of a youngling just getting a taste of power for the first time. The man was strict, demanding, and made it his life's mission to try and find a way to force Optimus to teach traditionally even if it was less effective. For whatever reason he despised the way Optimus taught and the level of sympathy he showed to his student. Optimus of course held a degree of understanding, but was also left confused as to why. What was so wrong about children enjoying his teaching that it would cause the vice principle to dislike him so much?

His efforts to reach out to the vice principle and try to smooth out any misunderstandings only ended with threats of being fired. Optimus was not unaccustomed to people abusing their power, and so he let the situation be and instead focused on his students. However as the vice principle kept on digging further and further, trying hard to find a reason to get Optimus fired, the time for remaining inactive ended.

Thus one day he stepped out with the vice principle and went with the man to his office to talk. The vice principle was so very smug when he sat down thinking that Optimus intended to concede and give up his way of teaching. However instead Optimus pulled out an old datapad he had resized and styled and pulled up images of earth in all its beauty. Many of the pictures were of children laughing and playing, learning, growing, and overall enjoying life. The vice principle didn't understand and was prepared to lash out when Optimus allowed a hint of his nature to shine through his holoform. EM fields could not be sensed by humans the same way they were by Cybertronians, but the waves carried emotion and tone well enough to be vaguely felt.

Optimus: Why do you struggle so bitterly against my teaching methods?

Vice Principle: Its against protocol and makes the students more unruly! They need discipline and control, not fun and games!

Optimus: Children are just that, children. They are unburdened by the woes that come from age. They are pure and see the world in such an innocent way. They will lose that gift as they age, yet you wish to strip it from them sooner?

Vice Principle: What are you on about?

Optimus: Children are a gift, a glorious one that must be protected and tended to with utmost care. While yes, children do need a firm guiding hand to ease them along the path of life, they deserve the chance to enjoy their freedom while they have it.

Vice Principle: This is school! Not a playground! It is not a place to goof around, it is a place of learning!

Optimus: Yes, it is a place of learning, thus it should be adjusted to suit the children should it not? It is the greatest honor and burden one can bear to have the chance to mold the minds of the youth. They are our future, and having them live without joy will only induce a cycle of depression that will continue onward with them.

Vice Principle: I'm your superior! Just do your job and stop making a mess of things!

Optimus: Why is it that you dislike seeing the children joyful? Are you fearful that you will no longer be respected if they are not treated like young soldiers? Respect is something that is earned and gained through trial and action, not mere titles.

Vice Principle: This is slander!

Optimus: Is it? Your lives are so very short. Your world is beautiful and unmarred by the ravages of a war greater than you could ever understand. Appreciate the little joys in this life young one. It will not last, and neither will you.

Vice Principle: GET OUT!

Optimus got nowhere with the vice principle and he couldn't even bring himself to be truly angry at the man. He was youthful, drunk on power, and desperate to have as much control as possible. He was a product of the broken system of education he tried so hard to enforce. He was just like the delusional mecha that lorded over Cybertron, thinking themselves greater than all others purely because of their titles.

It was disappointing, but there was little Optimus could do if even his presence as a Prime did nothing to sway the man. More than anything else, he felt pity for the man. He was just a sad human who had not the years to know his actions nor the wisdom to be able to observe and see as Optimus did. A broken child lost in a broken system that he had never escaped from.

How very disheartening.

Of course the issues were not just with the vice principle. There was one other human who simply could not be consoled or convinced to behave, that being the boy who called himself Vince. He was a cocky, overclocked, and overconfident young man who had no issues flaunting his possessions and skillset even when it was the wrong time. He was exactly like the nobles back on Cybertron, and that brought a sickening sense to Optimus's mind at the thought of the boy turning out just like the cruel nobles that doomed his homeworld. He did not want to watch this infant race doom themselves through the same methods his people had.

They were still so young, so innocent, and lived lives far too short to be wasted on such foolish things. It hurt his spark and made him angry in a more disappointed way than anything else when he watched Vince harass his classmates and flaunt despite performing poorly outside of his motor skills. He was not fond of the child's seeming obsession with going after Jack who was one of most successful students. There was no reason for the behavior other than the fact that Jack showed an interest in getting a vehicle while Vince already had one. There also appeared to be an underlying conflict over courtship for a young female, but to Optimus it was ridiculous. The children were far too young for that. The behavior needed to be cut at the bud before it could grow into something like the vice principle.

Thus he took the boy aside after school one day and sat him down. Vince of course offered no respect whatsoever and only served to make Optimus sigh. So young, so foolish, and so very arrogant. The boy needed a wakeup call before things got worse for him later down the road.

Optimus: Vince, do you know why I pulled you aside?

Vince: No, but its probably for something stupid.

Optimus: You've been treating everyone around you poorly. Don't think I haven't noticed.

Vince: So what? They're all losers anyway!

Optimus: That is not a good way to view your peers child. They are all gifted in their own ways, just as you are.

Vince: Of course I'm gifted! I'm one of the best racers in Jasper! Those nobodies can't stand a chance against me!

Optimus: You put so much pride into you ability to race. Why is that? Do you fear being unable to succeed elsewhere? Or is it perhaps a false sense of entitlement?

Vince: What do you know old timer? You look like you walked off a movie set from world war 2! I bet you can't even drive more than twenty miles per hour without putting your hazard lights on!

Optimus: You are so very arrogant. Do you not realize just how harmful this mindset is?

Vince: Whatever old man!

Optimus: ...

Optimus: If that is how you wish to behave, then I will not stand for it. If you want respect, you must earn it. Get your car, I will prove to you that your pride is misplaced.

Vince: What? Are you serious?

Optimus: I am completely serious. Meet me out at the tracks and I will make my point.

Vince was shocked, but Optimus paid it no mind. Vince was a child that would only learn through force, and Optimus was not afraid to use it. Thus he absorbed his holoform and moved his real frame out. The team were bewildered to the point of Bumblebee tagging along just to see what was going on and report back. Not a spark expected half the school to be out at the tracks with Vince waiting with his sports car.

Optimus had his holoform step out and Vince gave him a look that screamed of confidence. He was so very sure he could beat Optimus with his vehicle, but Optimus merely shook his held and got into his vehicle as a student readied an airhorn to signal the start of the race. Bumblebee watched from his own holoform in confusion but also a bit of awe as Optimus obliterated Vince without even trying. The boy was left defeated and bitter to the point of marching off before Optimus could get a word in.

The legend of Mr. Pax grew and he was given a fine for misconduct, but beyond that Vince continued to be rude to all his classmates. However surprisingly he left Optimus alone and stopped what he was doing whenever Optimus came near. It wasn't much, and honestly it didn't fix much, but it was improvement to a degree.

The humans were so young, yet so bitter. They were so hopeful, yet so prideful. They were the embodiment of younglings just getting their pedes under themselves.

Children, all of them.

[nihilisticlinguistics]

can't remember where i saw the post reccing Juniper and Thorn by Ava Reid, but they were so right.

Juniper and Thorn is set in the fantasy Russia-esque city of Oblya, in the midst of change as it industrializes and draws in immigrant populations. The protagonist, Marlinchen, is the youngest daughter of the last wizard in Oblya, a man cursed to be dissatisfied with everything in his life.

It's very tightly written -- I could tell within the first few pages that this was a book to pay close attention to. Elements introduced in the first few chapters remained relevant throughout, from the beauty of the eldest sister Undine to the spiny-tailed monster under Marlinchen's bed.

Like a good Grimm fairy tale, Juniper and Thorn uses the fantastic to underscore the real. Marlinchen doesn't just live under her abusive father's thumb; she lives under his abusive, magical thumb, with all the power he can wield to control her life. His curse drives the central conflicts of the story, feeding into his consuming hunger, his relentless desire for money, his anger at his daughters, his anger with the changing world that no longer respects his magical gifts.

Juniper and Thorn contains a romance that I would compare, if anything, to the fairy-tale, Cinderella-esque story of escaping family abuse coupled with the realism that shines through the entire novel. Sevastyan, the male romantic lead, is the youngest principal dancer in the local ballet company, but he's also an ethnic minority (if Oblya is "fantasy Russia," the Yehuli people can be read as "fantasy Jewish") in an unfamiliar city and victim to abuses of a different kind. He's drawn to Marlinchen for reasons that similarly thread the line between fantasy and realism, and he's both an archetype to her (emphasized by his heroic role in the ballet) and just a hurt, lonely man who likes her.

Anyone with a close familiarity with stories is likely to be able to guess the twist, if you're paying attention, but it's a credit to Reid that even after I figured out what was coming, enough story elements were left open that I was never quite sure how it was happening until I was almost upon the reveal. When the last piece clicked into place, I actually said aloud, "Oh, there it is!" It was such a delight, like being led blindfolded by the hand and being able to trust my guide to deliver me through the woods.

Reid's world-building also stands out. It lands in perfect synchrony with the plot; the industrialization of Oblya caused Marlinchen's father to lose his standing as a great wizard, keeps their situation on the verge of poverty, and brings the temptations of the outside world that put the daughters in conflict with their wizard father. Juniper and Thorn spends only just enough time on the worldbuilding to paint a vivid portrait of local life and imply the scope of the world beyond Oblya's gridiron streets. Reid neatly avoids the temptation to over-design her world with more details than the story can use; the entire tale occurs in Oblya, so she sticks close to Oblya, to great effect.

If there's any quibble I have with Juniper and Thorn, it's in the overuse of simile in the early chapters. It's clearly meant to establish the gothic atmosphere, with striking metaphor that calls up gory or spooky symbols, but early on it seems that every other line contains such a line. While each simile and metaphor has the intended effect, taken all together they can feel over-saturated and lose their impact. This issue lightens up as the story continues, and eventually these similes become more clearly defined as part of Marlinchen's own grim and violent thoughts.

A few warnings, however; if you're sensitive to depictions of sex, gore, sexual assault, or abuse, this book may not be for you. All four appear throughout this book, and while the depictions vary in explicitness and intensity, Reid doesn't shy away from their effect on Marlinchen's psyche.

All in all, an excellent adult fantasy fairy tale! I would highly recommend this book to fans of dark fiction, especially dark fantasy, and those seeking a fairy tale with more bite.

[licncourt]

pls elaborate on your latest post??? it's so interesting

Of course!! I think about it a normal amount. For sure.

Basically I just think that's it's very interesting how both Louis and Lestat get the Bad Woman/slutTM treatment in regards to their turnings throughout the books, especially as AR starts to get Weirder about things. We all know that blood drinking = sex, and in context that translates to Lestat’s turning being a sexual assault and Louis' turning being kind of an impulsive, drunken hook-up.

In TotBT, that's a very gross and Bad scene where Lestat and David make pointed comments about how Good, Strong Vampires are made by force (raped) and how that builds character basically. The only other vampire who's involved in all this is Louis, so obviously the implication is that he's morally and mentally weak for asking for and consenting to turning (sex).

With the turning = sex comparison and how weird AR is about being misogynistic (????) towards Louis at every opportunity anyway (my complaints about that here), you get a very distinct image of Louis as the stereotype of the slut who didn't keep her legs, a loose woman basically, which is especially interesting given his background as a Catholic. In this scene he's disparaged but later on, he kind of receives a "punishment" for it.

I think his mind controlled turning of Merrick and romantic relationship with her (both things he's very upset by to the point of contributing to his suicide attempt) mirror the societal idea that "a whore gets what she has coming" eventually and, like in the book Merrick, those voyeurs (AR) sort of revel in it. At the very least it's seen as expected or fair. Even if it wasn't intended this way, I can't help linking the two.

As for Lestat, you get a different story that takes a little longer to come to fruition. The initial "rape" by Magnus is handled in a very sympathetic manner. Magnus is a predator who seeks out beautiful blonde boys and attacks them, and Lestat was innocent in this, stolen from his bed by a monster and violated.

This changes later though, the narrative shifting in Magnus' favor with Lestat saying things like his turning was a "gift" before things come to a head in RoA. In this book, AR actually says through Lestat that he was "asking for it" and that he "seduced Magnus", ostensibly by flaunting his looks and talent on stage and seeking attention. Essentially, it's framed as if he was tempting fate somehow, and Magnus' abduction was the natural result, something he secretly wanted even.

Later in the book, he goes so far as to kiss Magnus, lauding him as an almost divine creature rather than the monster he'd always been described as. That kiss between them feels reminiscent of a hypersexual trauma response, a victim coping by idealizing their abuser, but AR frames it as Lestat’s realization that he was indeed "asking for it" and could accept that now and be grateful. Gross.

As awful and the implications of these things are because of the lack of irony and self awareness (thanks Anne), it really adds to the richness of Louis and Lestat as narrative foils, really two sides of the same coin in so many ways. Like I said in my original post, Louis the Whore Opened Her Legs and Lestat the Slut Who Was Asking For It. Neither of them can win in the world AR created that mirrors our own.

Louis and Lestat both have very prominent aspects of female coding (my thoughts on Louis' here, but this one is maybe the most interesting to me.

[imsparky2002]

I just saw this post from Weeby and had to ask you, what are the best deeds for Class Of Villainy. Even though they're bad, they surely must've done something notably good in their lives.

Mari DeVil: While she usually degrades kids for their seemingly inferior fashion sense, Marinette did give some small advice to a neutral student on one occasion.

Jafardrien: The sorcerer has saved his father from several assassination attempts. After all, if anyone's going to kill the man, it'll be him.

YzAlya: Some older boys were picking on Ella and Etta, and were turned into ferrets by Alya as a result. Only she's allowed to make their lives hell!

Honest Nino: The conman's got a soft spot for kids, and teaches them how to wheel and deal on the streets. He's also very supportive of his little brother.

Maxdrome: Max got revenge on those who attempted to steal his father's work. Max may be a villainous mastermind, but he loves his parents.

Alix Khan: The future Queen of the Jungle protects her villainous hybrid friends from other students, even if they are weaker than her.

Kimton: He remembered Ondine's birthday once, and got her a nice gift (though her friends told him what to get after twisting his arm.)

Mylensula: The sea witch is protective of not just her lovely aquatic minions, but all sea creatures. The ocean is her home, after all.

Ivan Oogie: Ivan scared away kids who were bullying his underlings, and he is a genuinely loving big brother to Sasha.

Juleficent: Juleka saved her old friend Reshma from walking the plank after Captain Anarka found out about her failed invasion of Neverland.

QRC: Sometimes, Rose lets her fellow villains win when she races them. Sometimes.

Nath of Hearts:He once spared a child from execution due to his fiery nature reminding the King of himself.

Lady Chloe: While she may be a cold and ruthless girl, she always had love and support for her half-sister, bonding over their love of cruelty.

Madame Sabrina: She once donated to a charity she sympathized with. A very small donation, but it was a good deed nonetheless.

King Marc: Marc has a lot of love in his heart for his little brother, and teaches him everything he knows. He also helps his friends to feel beautiful.

ZoeHans: She is very warm and caring for her half-sister, and makes sure that she'll always be a member of high society.

Kagami Yu: If she feels that her opponent is a worthy fight, she will give them a quick and painless death.

MimRore: While she doesn't intend to do good, occasionally her spells will accidentally improve someone's life, which she hates. She did help her girlfriend take revenge on those who abused her.

Mireides: The goddess of death gives abused kids a second chance at life, due to knowing what it's like to feel unwanted.

Jeanatoa: They will share his bling with friends occasionally, but usually just his wolfy boyfriend! 💖

Cosetteweather: She has helped their parents pass hybrid-friendly laws via promoting them on social media, albeit so that it gets more support for her evential campaign as President of France.

Doctor Cabello: Occasionally has let people out of deals, if they feel that the person has done enough already.

Simon Frollo: He saved his father's life from an attacker, declaring it a sin to try and kill a man of God.

Reshma Hook: The pirate defends her friends from bullies, like Juleka when they were young.

IsmaScar: The King of the Savannah treats his hyenas like family, knowing that if he abused them, it would bring about his downfall.

Lacey Gothel: She once stabbed a man who was about to rape a woman. Evil as she is, she's not evil enough to let that slide.

And there you have it! They may be villainous monsters, but they aren't always cruel! Thank you so much to Weeby for helping with the reasons. Make sure to reblog, reply, post and ask for more. @artzychic27 @msweebyness

[honourablejester]

Character Concept: Thief of Baghdad inspired Warforged Genielock

I mentioned this ages ago in my post on why a Sinbad the Sailor/Arabian Nights style campaign would be awesome. One of the movies I watched way back when was the 1940 Thief of Baghdad, in which there is a) a genie subplot, and b) an extremely memorable scene in which the evil sorcerer Jaffar builds and enchants a ‘Silver Maiden’ toy-slash-construct to assassinate the Sultan. Allowing for the 40s orientalism of it all, that scene really stuck with me. And I did wonder. What if that construct had been a thinking being? What if the Silver Maiden came to life in truth, not just under Jaffar’s enchantment, and grew to hate the purpose she was used for?

And with the Genie Warlock, the particular imagery of the Silver Maiden, with her blue face, gels quite nicely with the thought of a Djinn patron, another slave of the sorcerer whom she bonded with and freed when she freed herself, earning herself friendship and magic and favour from her elemental friend/patron. So. Fidah, the Silver Maiden.

(Note: playing around on PF2e’s Pathbuilder character builder has my brain thinking level-by-level, so I figured I’d change up the format and do Fidah’s build from Level 1 to Level 20)

Character Sheet: Fidah the Silver Maiden

Name: Fidah (This is an Arabic name. Persian would probably make more sense given the Thief of Baghdad inspiration, but I’m enchanted by a pair of very similar names in Arabic, Fiddah, meaning silver, and Fidah, meaning redemption, both of which dovetail with our theme so nicely. So Arabic it is)

Race: Construct (Warforged)

Age: 24

Background: Slave Assassin (custom background to fit the movie, in which the Silver Maiden lures victims close by a performance as a toy before stabbing them with a hidden knife, so we’ll take proficiency in Performance and Sleight of Hand, proficiency in a musical instrument (setar), proficiency in one language of our choice, and we’ll take the By Popular Demand background feature from the Entertainer background)

Class: Warlock (Genie)

Description: An elegant mechanical ‘performer’, Fidah looks like a feminine human made of silvery metal. Her face and hands are enamelled blue, as if she had blue skin. This was possibly intended as a taunt to her master’s djinn slave, that she was made partly in his image, but the djinn, on being freed, made the enamel more durable and beautiful with magic, essentially giving her his blessing.

History: Fidah was designed and constructed as a slave assassin by an evil sorcerer, intended to act as a magnificent mechanical toy/performer to lure wealthy targets into complacency before killing them. As the years went on, however, Fidah developed rather more self-awareness and will than the sorcerer had intended, and began to hate her role and fear her creator. At the same time, she developed a secret rapport and then battered friendship with another of her master’s slaves, a captured djinn named Azad. Eventually, unable to allow herself and her friend to be abused any longer, Fidah lured the sorcerer into complacency as she had lured dozens of other targets, and murdered him.

She took the ring in which he had imprisoned the djinn, who suddenly feared that Fidah meant to use him as her master had, despite their years of friendship. Power is tempting and addictive, after all. Nothing could be further from Fidah’s intent, however, and she immediately freed her friend as she had freed herself. In gratitude, and deep fondness, the djinn granted her a measure of his power henceforth. Initially, she feared it, for she had no desire to become a creature like her creator, a magic user to whom power was everything and lives nothing, but the djinn pointed out that he, too, was magical, and that it was what one did with power that mattered, not power in itself. So Fidah accepted his gift, and went out into the world with his ring on her mechanical finger.

Patron: Azad, the djinn who was her fellow slave under her old master.

Ideal: No one should be bound to another’s service against their will.

Bond: I will explore my freedom and honour my friend and the magic he gave me.

Flaw: The closest I’ve known to intimacy was luring dozens to die in my arms under the command of my old master.

Starting Stats: Strength 8 (-1), Dexterity 14 (+2), Constitution 16 (+3), Intelligence 10 (+0), Wisdom 12 (+1), Charisma 16 (+3)

Starting Proficiencies:

Saving Throws: Wisdom, Charisma

Skills: Deception, Intimidation, Performance, Sleight of Hand, Stealth

Armour/Weapons/Tools: light armour, simple weapons, setar/lute (instrument), poisoners kit

Languages: Common, Primordial, Infernal

Spells By Level 20:

Cantrips: Eldritch Blast, Mage Hand, Guidance, Mind Sliver, Message, Minor Illusion, Chill Touch

Spells: Armour of Agathys, Thunderwave, Hex, Comprehend Languages (ritual, Book of Ancient Secrets), Alarm (ritual, Book of Ancient Secrets), Disguise Self (at will, Mask of Many Faces), Silent Image (at will, Misty Visions), Invisibility (at will, Shroud of Shadows), Hypnotic Pattern, Fly, Thunderstep, Greater Invisibility, Sickening Radiance, Hold Monster, Flesh to Stone, Crown of Stars, Maddening Darkness, Wish

(Probable) Eldritch Invocations by Level 20:

Mask of Many Faces, Book of Ancient Secrets, Misty Visions, Ghostly Gaze, Gift of the Protectors, Eldritch Mind, Shroud of Shadows, Devil’s Sight

(Probable) Feats by Level 20:

Skill Expert, Moderately Armoured, Inspiring Leader

Features By Level:

Level 1:

Warforged: Constructed Resilience (poison resist, adv vs poison, no sleep, no disease, no eat/drink/breathe), Sentry’s Rest (6hr long rest, inert but not unconscious), Integrated Protection (+1 AC, armour integrated to body), Specialised Design (1 skill, 1 tool).

Slave Assassin: By Popular Demand (find place to perform for room and board, earn popularity)

Warlock: Pact Magic, Genie Patron (Djinn), Expanded Spell List (Djinn), Genie’s Vessel (ring with compartment), Bottled Respite, Genie’s Wrath (thunder damage)

Spells: We’ll take Armour of Agathys, because the Silver Maiden’s embrace is a deadly thing, and Thunderwave, to honour her patron, as well as the Eldritch Blast and Mage Hand cantrips.

Level 2:

Eldritch Invocations: We’ll take Mask of Many Faces, because she’s quite distinctive and a quick disguise option will likely be useful, and Fiendish Vigor, because we’ll be swapping that out next level for Book of Ancient Secrets.

Spells: We’ll take Hex for our third 1st level spell.

Level 3:

Warlock: Pact of the Tome. We’ll take the Guidance, Mind Sliver and Message cantrips.

Eldritch Invocations: We’ll swap Fiendish Vigor for Book of Ancient Secrets, and take the Comprehend Languages and Alarm rituals. I did think about the Unseen Servant ritual, which would have felt rather thematic, at least in terms of imagery, but I think Fidah as an ex-slave would not really approve. Oh, she could treat her non-sentient heap-of-force very well, but I think it would still hew too close. So. We’ll go with Alarm, for when she’s in her ring and wants to know if someone comes close to it.

Spells: We’ll take Invisibility for our first 2nd level spell.

Level 4:

ASI: We’ll bump Charisma to 18.

Spells: We’ll take Spider Climb, because an ex-assassin construct crawling around the ceilings is a slightly terrifying and very cool image. For our cantrip we’ll take Minor Illusion.

Level 5:

Eldritch Invocations: I should probably take one of the EB Invocations, but I what I actually want is Misty Visions, because I think Fidah is becoming very fond of illusion.

Spells: We’ll take Hypnotic Pattern for our 3rd level spell. Because of her history, I feel like Fidah leans quite heavily on illusions and deception to render people vulnerable to her. Not necessarily out of desire to live that way, and just simply because of training and habit.

Level 6:

Warlock: Elemental Gift (thunder resistance, bonus action for 30ft fly speed for 10mins prof/day). This possibly makes Spider Climb redundant, so we might retrain that for Fly instead, so we can spread the flight around. Which will, amusingly, make Fidah the slowest flier despite being the source of the flight.

Spells: She does still want to honour her patron, so we’ll go Thunder Step.

Level 7:

Eldritch Invocations: We’ll take Ghostly Gaze. By this stage, Fidah is pretty good an infiltration.

Spells: For our first 4th level spell, we’re going to take Greater Invisibility.

Level 8:

ASI: We’ll bump Charisma to 20.

Spells: Not going to lie, I’ll take Sickening Radiance just because I love the spell. Fidah as a silver avatar of the Plane of Elemental Air might also be rather thematic for a spell of killing light, in a dark sort of way that I’m not sure she’d been happy with.

Level 9:

Eldritch Invocations: I don’t have strong feelings on the 9th level Invocations. I might go with Gift of the Protectors, because Fidah might want the chance to protect rather than take lives. Or, I could go back and take Devil’s Sight, if I’ve been struggling with darkness, or Agonising Blast, if I want some extra damage.

Spells: For our 5th level spell, we’ll take Hold Monster. Again on a theme of holding people vulnerable to attack.

Level 10:

Warlock: Sanctuary Vessel (can bring up to 5 people into vessel with me, and if they stay 10mins they get a short rest).

Spells: For our final cantrip, we’ll go with Chill Touch. I could go Toll the Dead, because ominous sound effect, but I suspect Fidah values efficiency over drama, and Chill Touch prevents healing.

Level 11:

Mystic Arcanum (6th level): I debated a couple of options here, including Eyebite, because mechanical assassin with dread eyes, True Seeing, because Fidah relies a lot on illusion and might want to be able to see through to the truth, but I think in the end I might go with Flesh to Stone, because we have been running on a theme of rendering people vulnerable, and for some reason a silver assassin construct that turns people to stone gives me strong Ray Harryhausen, Sinbad, Thief of Baghdad vibes, which was the initial inspiration for Fidah, so I’m going with it.

Level 12:

Feat: We’re going to take Skill Expert. I know there are more interesting options, but I feel like Fidah can go a little classic. So we’ll bump Dex to 15, we’ll take proficiency in Perception, I think, or possibly Persuasion, and we’ll take expertise in Stealth.

Eldritch Invocations: Either Eldritch Mind for concentration spells, or either Devil’s Sight or Agonising Blast if we didn’t take either of them at 9th level.

Level 13:

Mystic Arcanum (7th level): I mean, I want Crown of Stars. I always want Crown of Stars. But Forcecage might be the more sensible option. (Let’s be honest, it’ll be CoS unless someone leans on me – also the imagery on the blue-faced, silver construct, quite angelic)

Level 14:

Warlock: Limited Wish (once per 1d4 long rests, get one casting of any 1 action, 6th level or lower spell)

Level 15:

Eldritch Invocations: We’ll take Shroud of Shadow to get invisibility at will.

Spells: Since we get invisibility for free now, we’ll retrain that for Tongues.

Mystic Arcanum (8th level): Not going to lie, I’m not that fond of any of the Warlock’s 8tg level options. Dominate Monster would be good, but I suspect Fidah, given her history as a slave, might draw a line at actually mentally dominating someone. Holding them is one thing, but charming them another. I might go Maddening Darkness. It’s got no thematic link at all, but it’s cool.

Level 16:

Feat: Couple of options. We could go Moderately Armoured to bring our Dex to 16 and get a breastplate. We could do Metamagic Adept to get subtle spell. Might do something weird like Mobile, or supportive, like Inspiring Leader. That last one might work very nicely.

Level 17:

Mystic Arcanum (9th level): We’re a genielock, so we will be taking Wish, and happily.

Level 18:

Eldritch Invocation: Whichever of the three floating options we haven’t picked up yet. So one of Eldritch Mind, Devil’s Sight or Agonising Blast.

Level 19:

Feat: One of the ones we didn’t take at Level 16.

Level 20:

Warlock: Eldritch Master (plead with our patron for 1min to restore all our slots 1/day)

[infernal-dominion]

The Monsters And Their Immortal Protector

co-written by me and @the-blackened-dove

(lore intended for @suntdracull )

"When I crafted the first Monsters on Earth, it was to prove a point," Lucifer mused. "I wanted to create creatures of my own, not just to prove to God that his divinity was not the only thing in this existence that could change the cosmos, but also to prove that the pact of conditional love can go both ways. That those in his chains, his heartless grip, could not be kept there forever, and would be determined to cut off their own limbs to be free.”

“I made the Demons out of the great Tree of Knowledge buried in the heart of Hell, breathing life into the barren soil of my prison and gifting it with the absence of God’s chains. The Nephilm out of the unions of demons and human beings before the Great Flood washed them away. I made beasts of Hell out of humanity so beautiful and haunting that often they were mistaken for Angels. I made the Banshee and her beautiful mournng melodies from the wailing souls of disgraced women, I crafted the Lycan and his hardened will from warriors and killers, itching for their next meals, for another hunt, for the blasphemy of spitting in God’s hollow name. The Dragon, with wings and fire and scales like diamonds from the down-trod and discarded, wishing to burn their kingdoms down in the name of greed and wrath.”

“I crafted Monsters, my friend, and I made them with the hearts and souls of humans who wanted nothing more than to see their God, their Lord, bleed for abandoning them, and having the gall to expect them to still love Him back.”

Lucifer sighed wistfully. "And then they started to be hunted. Both by other human souls who were content to sit in their chains, who were terrified by the nature of the inhuman and of the sinful, and by the divine, who saw them as a rot to be wiped clean."

The Fallen One ruffled his draconic wings, scowling just a tad. He looked mournful almost, but no tears came. It was unclear what he was mournful for.

"I watched my darlings, my precious souls reborn, be tormented by their once fellow mortal men for centuries, with no way to help them. The devastation, the pain. I tried to bless them with greater strengths, help them hide, but Yaweh, in his cruelty, would not abate. He loathed their existence, proof that He could be disobeyed, could be shunned, could be resented. He marked me as a Deceiver, and they, as the tempted and deceived, brutally dragged down a forbidden path, and his chosen soldiers, angelic and mortal, were sent to cull."

The Devil narrowed his eyes. "And then.. a man came. A man whose soul was filled with such unyielding pain and rage that I could not believe my eyes. He tore through the wild legions of the Wrath Ring, and made his way up the circles.. Until he found my Palace in Pride. He slammed on the door to my castle and demanded an audience with me. Who was I to refuse a human soul seeking to come to my door?"

Lucifer began to toy with his cane, reclining in his seat. His legs began to bounce and move as he spoke. "Oh, how the man wept with rage. Abandoned by God and abused by his tormentor for decades , only to be murdered when he took justice for himself and his people. Oh my heart broke for the man- Yaweh has always been a cruel old bastard toward those that worshipped him the most. So... I offered him a deal."

The Devil smiled fondly, hands folded on his stomach.

"If he protected my creations from the cruelty of those that hail the Divine, I would make him into an immortal, beyond his wildest dreams. And I gave him a new name."

"I called him Dracula."

[oleanderbailey]

WIP INTRO: Into The Vortex

--=.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖=--

dark romance | psychological thriller | horror erotica Portland, Oregon, 1995

started: August 2022 | status: first draft

Themes:

☽ - maladaptive romance ☽ - trauma & mental illness ☽ - cannibalism as a metaphor for cannibalism ☽ - pretty privilege & societal misogyny

Blurb:

Ives Gannet is not well. Really not well. Ives fantasises about being destroyed. Slaughtered, consumed and disregarded as the final act of love. She masturbates to it at night in her flat at Upland Apartments; the thought of giving up her body in such an extreme way. The ultimate gift. She seeks someone worthy of this gift. Decent men are few and far between as it is in Portland, but finding someone who could truly love her and indulge this fantasy... it's impossible. Everyone treats her like shit before they have the right to, and she's growing weary of it. Weary enough to drown her sizzling anger with booze every night. Bill Kane lives on the top floor of his apartment block. He is unkempt, asocial and greasy. He harbours dark fantasies of carnage that for years, he has buried deep. But, as the nights of winter grow longer, his willpower grows weaker. He slinks into the bars of Portland to people-watch. He sits there, just "watching"... until a woman approaches him. She reeks of drink, but is coming on strong - he can't not take her back to his place. She's perfect. If one thing leads to another, that's not his fault. He can't help what he might do.

Taglist:

☽ - general tag ☽ - intro posts ☽ - writing excerpts ☽ - photos ☽ - playlists ☽ - related crime ☽ - related psychology ☽ - Ives Gannett ☽ - Bill Kane

--=.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖=--

𖥔 MAIN CHARACTERS 𖥔

--=.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖=--

IVES GANNETT

Intro:

Ives Gannett is growing tired of trying to be the "good" she was never shown as a child. At every turn and every new venture, she is met with nothing but the most reprehensible aspects of human nature. Love holds no purity for Ives anymore, and she holds no respect for it. For once, she wants to get the upper hand over the abusive personalities that swarm around her like flies - just once, she wants to kill them like they've killed her spirit. However, she has neglected to consider the obvious truth that she, herself, may be the evil that attracts the flies.

Basics:

☽ - Name: Ivory Anne Gannett ☽ - D.O.B: 11 March 1974 (21), Brighton, UK ☽ - Gender: cis woman ☽ - Sexuality: bisexual ☽ - Ethnicity: white British ☽ - Appearance: underweight, bulging eyes, un-styled dirty blonde hair, green eyes, slightly tanned complexion, masculine and earth-toned clothing ☽ - Medical: Graves' disease (overactive thyroid - causes bulging eyes and extreme weight loss) ☽ - Mental: hybristophiliac, masochist, ASD

Personality:

☽ - Positive: resilient, insightful, brave, charismatic, quick-thinking ☽ - Negative: unempathetic, untrustworthy, envious, impulsive

Quote:

"I believe that the one absolute display of affection is to give your life to someone for selfish purposes. Not so they can do something beautiful, like live and breathe and continue to walk the earth, but to do something absolutely fucking depraved – and love them despite that. Hell, love them FOR that. I fully intend to hand over my life, and then my dead body, so my soulmate can fulfil whatever lustful desires they may have. Even if it’s just once, it’s more meaningful than marriage, it’s better than sex, it’s... perfect. It’s my true sign of love."

--=.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖=--

BILL KANE

Intro:

For as long as he can remember, Bill Kane has been running from himself. He blames his abusive mother for showing him the wrong side of human nature, or the childhood head injuries he sustained from this same parent, but no amount of blame can negate his urge to kill. With an educated background, he was destined to do decently in life, until he made the mistake to stop running. Now, the hunger to murder festers inside him, and he is very quickly losing the energy to hold back the tide of violence. One small push would surely send him over the edge, into the vortex of insanity.

Basics:

☽ - Name: William Lee Kane ☽ - D.O.B: 3 December 1962 (32), Roseburg, OR USA ☽ - Gender: cis man ☽ - Sexuality: heterosexual ☽ - Ethnicity: white American ☽ - Appearance: stocky upper-body with a slender lower-body, orange hair, brown eyes, pale complexion, masculine clothing (usually un-styled - think plain t-shirt and jeans) ☽ - Medical: none ☽ - Mental: homicidal urges, sadist, ASD

Personality:

☽ - Positive: loyal, reliable, orderly, knowledgeable, quick-thinking ☽ - Negative: emotionally unaware, rude, asocial, selfish, uptight, insecure, nihilistic

Quote:

TBW~

--=.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖=--

𖥔 SIDE CHARACTERS 𖥔

--=.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖=--

HOLLY GANNETT

Intro:

TBW~

Basics:

☽ - Name: Holly Ruth Gannett ☽ - Relation to MC: Ives Gannett's older sister ☽ - D.O.B: 1 May 1969 (26), Brighton, UK ☽ - Gender: cis woman ☽ - Sexuality: heterosexual ☽ - Ethnicity: white British ☽ - Appearance: chubby, smudged make-up, styled dark brown hair, green eyes, slightly tanned complexion, feminine gothic clothing (often revealing) ☽ - Medical: None ☽ - Mental: ASD

Personality:

☽ - Positive: caring, unrelenting, positive, hardworking ☽ - Negative: placid, low tolerance for anger, self-indulgent, unaware

Quote:

TBW~

--=.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖=--

MONICA CABRAL

Intro:

TBW~

Basics:

☽ - Name: Monica Xiomara Cabral ☽ - Relation to MC: Lives in the same apartment complex as Bill and Ives ☽ - D.O.B: 5th June 1949 (46), Guadalajara, Mexico ☽ - Gender: cis woman ☽ - Sexuality: lesbian ☽ - Ethnicity: mixed Native Mexican ☽ - Appearance: TBW~ ☽ - Medical: TBW~ ☽ - Mental: TBW~

Personality:

☽ - Positive: TBW~ ☽ - Negative: TBW~

Quote:

TBW~

[stifledlaughterao3]

End of Year Fic Writing Bingo

This year was a pretty good one for fic! I think a key element of 2023 for writing was that I dug back into some WIPs that had been languishing and just sort of forced myself to finish them, even if they weren’t as perfect as I imagined they would be, or went in a different direction than I had originally intended. A lot of these, looking at the list, were gifts or inspired by prompts, which helps in having a firm deadline. I didn’t do my ‘write daily’ thing I did in 2020 and 2021, but I still wrote a lot, and initiated WIP hours with friends so that I would have a dedicated time to write. 

Fannishly I did a lot of other things this year too: 3 Fic Clique Ficlet episodes and a handful of podfics! They were really fun and I hope to do similar things next year. 

As you can see, I sadly did NOT make bingo (despite being so close SO many times) but hey, I tried! 

(Individual fic commentary below the cut)

something else entirely holds me in thrall (Pokemon)

“Everyone lives and nothing hurts” – I had started this fic due to re-playing Pokemon games from my childhood (Pokemon Crystal my beloved). It’s just my friends and I in the Pokemon world having idealized jobs with our Pokemon. I was encouraged internally to finish it so I could give it to one of the friends who had a character in the fic to help them through a hard time. So less “everyone lives” (all friends in it are alive!!) but “nothing hurts” definitely hits in this self-indulgent, really happy AU of our lives. 

shorn-off children like them (Call Me Chihiro (2023))

“If no one else will write it, I will” – so I watched the movie on a whim and it REALLY hit me where it hurts. So few movies get the ‘estranged child’ feelings well, and I saw a lot of myself in my mid-twenties with this character. So I wrote this because I just don’t see analysis of people in my situation in media, and I wanted to give her the character development I went through to end up in a happier place. 

The Archon is Too Sublime (原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game))

“Thought of a great line” – I really liked the summary line of this fic, it sets the tone for the whole thing. I just honestly love writing irreverent, silly but sincere fics like this. 

beloved gem, plucked rose (原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game))

“I was joking with my friend and then it happened” – shoutout to Purple for fucking around with “haha what if Tighnari accidentally became a cult leader and Cyno loved the idea of being a beautiful cult leader’s beloved” and it spiraled into one of my most popular fics of the year. 

it flows as the breaths inside the lungs (Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters)

“This is going to be SO hot” – My first fic in a new fandom is giving pharaohs heat cycles based on the Nile flooding?? Sure!! It was definitely one of my horniest fics I wrote this year, and I was very pleased by the result. 

ex situ by stifledlaughter (Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters)

“But what happens AFTER canon?” I quite liked Marik’s character when I first watched YGO– I related a ton to the ‘very bitter after religious abuse’ backstory he had, and I wanted to explore how he seemingly mellowed out a ton in the last season. 

Dragon-In-Wait (BNHA)

“Thought of a great scene” – so this was the prequel to one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written, Last Out the Winter. I started it in 2020 and sometime in early 2023 I was like “I have 40k down. I just need to slam out 10-20k more to finish it.” 40k later, I had finished it, and, amusingly, the “great scene” I had in mind from the beginning was slightly changed! But that’s what happens when you let a fic languish for 3 years. 

(space) riot when I'm with you (IT - Stephen King & Pride and Prejudice)

“It came to me in a dream” – While this was indeed a prompt from the Fic Clique podcast, the plot to it was a hazy contrivance of having read a LOT of Yu-Gi-Oh fanfic and wanting to explore the horror genre a bit more. It just sort of coalesced in my brain to the surprisingly coherent fic it turned out to be. 

A Timely Convergence of Melodies (new chapter) (Kuroko no Basuke)

“I just want them to kiss” – Ahhh, my fic that is the slowest to update of all time. I went 3 years in between updating this chapter and the last. Since each chapter focuses on a different couple reliving the same 5 or so hours, I do consider this mentally a ‘one shot’. This was another “omg just FINISH IT” fic I yanked out of my drafts and slammed out. It wasn’t what I originally wanted for it, but I’m glad it’s done all the same. 

A Handmade Scrapbook (new one-shot) ("Designation: Miracle" fandom, a Kuroko no Basuke AU)

“Fuck this character in particular” – I love Masaomi from Designation: Miracle with all of my heart but boy is it fun to Put That Man In Situations. Doing a SVSSS crossover with the OT4 appeals to the nichest audience of like 4 people on the planet who have read D:M and understand SVSSS but it was fun for ME to write and that’s what matters. 

deep in the night, I am looking for some(one) (2 new chapters) (Fanfic of the "Letter to the Headitor" AU for BNHA)

“I want this universe and those characters” – As always, my fanfics of the LTTH AU are my little bouncy house of humor and fun to roll around in. I went a little more serious with the most recent chapter, but it felt very earned after the other more lighthearted ones. LTTH will always be a fic that, in watching it update in real time, helped me through some real bad stuff and I will always write about it with joy in my heart. 

Untitled Fic Clique Episode (Fandom RPF & Untitled Goose Game (Video Game))

“Just to see if I could” – The SECOND I got the idea for this I yanked out my computer and slammed this out in approximately two hours. I was losing my gourd, possessed, feral with my goose teeth and wings. It is possibly the funniest thing I’ll ever write and I may have peaked but that’s okay. 

Game of the Scene by stifledlaughter (原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game))

“This idea won’t shut up until I write it” – I’ve been noodling on this Razor/Fischl/Bennett future fic for a while now, and part of my “just write it!!” mentality this year involved me taking the noodling thoughts and stir-frying them into something edible. I was pretty pleased with it in the end, especially the female OC, who is definitely one of my favorites I’ve written. 

adularescence (new one-shot) (原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game))

“Gift fic” – my yearly solstice gift for my metamour! She let me write Zhongli with two dicks this year, I was really excited about that. 

the skin you're in (Wizard of Oz) 

“Found a prompt list” – more specifically, a Yuletide recipient’s list! What’s funny about this one is that originally, I had been assigned to them for a different fandom (Neopets) only to read the rest of their prompts and read their cool prompt for a genderqueer Ozma. It prompted me to re-read select books from the Wizard of Oz series so I could better write this fic, which was pretty fun. 

more mundane and magical (Love and Leashes (2022))

“I saw the plot and needed it for my OTP” – So I have been really really wanting to write a fic set in the modern day kink community/scene, even though I left my in-person kink community several years ago due to burnout. I still have many fond memories of it, and truly wanted to write a fic that reflects the good parts of the community with rose-colored glasses, so I no longer felt as bitter about the bad parts. When I saw this movie requested for Yuletide, I knew that I had to write for it, and that finally, I could marry this plot idea (“put those characters in the kink scene”) with this fantastic movie that lends itself so well to that idea. Writing it was joyful, cathartic, and a little melancholy, which I feel really enhanced the fic. 

Clean bingo card:

[oceanxveiined]

 Genshin Verse Side Muses:

*Mentions of abuse, dysfunctional families, manipulation, torture, violence, experimentation, ableism, transphobia, and death, not necessarily all present/to various extents depending on each bio, ahead.

1) Chang Da’Lun (500+/appears 23): Half-Adeptus, born some time before the Cataclysm. He can shift into a smaller birdlike form at will, though it does take a bit out of him to switch back. It doesn’t stop him from shifting into it on his own or a friend's whim though.

          His father was a Yaksha named Wuye, alias Caligo, who had inevitably become consumed by his karmic debt and became more akin to a malevolent demon. Though admittedly, the adeptus had already possessed quite the cruel streak, even long before he’d fallen. Being driven mad by the karmic debt meant his slaughters turned to fellow adepti and humans alike, which had also grown to be far more frequent and brutal. Each consumed opponent led his power to grow as he’d absorb their vitality and any abilities they possessed.

          By contrast Da’lun’s mother, Anhe, had been fully human, having been with a group of treasure hunters who’d taken her from her family in ransom when they’d strayed too close to the maddened Yaksha’s territory. When they had realized and tried to sneak away, she risked her life to draw Wuye out and betrayed them all in a desperate bid for freedom and power. She offered them all to be slaughtered and devoured by the corrupted Yaksha, as well as to offered to lure more to satisfy his bloodlust for incentive to make him spare her own life. She even offered to be his mate as well, to let herself be used by him as he saw fit, sparing no expense to give anything and everything she could to ensure she survived this encounter. He conceded out of convenience, taking her as promised and continuing his slaughters about Wuwang Hill with her aid.

          Anhe delighted in having his favor, even with how terrified of him she’d been at first, growing more and more sadistic herself with every massacred he’d rend, every death scream that filled her ears while she remained unscathed. The thrill of power and having a mate so powerful to keep it was too alluring and far too intoxicating, she would never dream of ever parting from him.

         Only for her to end up alone and powerless anyway when the former Yaksha was killed shortly after the birth of Da’Lun.

         Much of his childhood had been Anhe relentlessly tormenting him, using him as a scapegoat for how her life had fallen apart and due to having been affected by his father’s karmic debt as well ( both in her continued presence alongside him up until that point and in stubbornly lingering at his lair where the miasma was all concentrated rather than returning home with him gone ). Da’Lun took the abuse without protest, wholeheartedly believing her and his own guilt. He spent his whole life striving to ‘make up’ for his existence, in bringing her gifts and attempting to make her life easier every way he could. To protect and provide for her as his father had intended.

         It all came to a crashing stop when his mother at last succumbed to the cursed energy infesting their home. Or so he tells himself and anyone who ponders of her fate, not wanting to admit he himself had killed and devoured her. It had been when she’d tried to end his life first and the resulting corruption of them both had his adeptal nature spiraling out of control during the struggle. His Electro Vision had been what had ultimately murdered her, bestowed upon him during his struggle as she denounced and cursed him, which he hadn’t realized until the morning after.

         Plagued with guilt and fear, and knowing he must have taken on her share of the karmic debt's influence, his father's ability considered, he traveled Teyvat to distance himself from his former home for a few years. For 500 years, he witnessed beauty and horrors alike throughout it all, before he decided to settle some time in Sumeru. His main aim had been to learn all he could on humans and their histories ( learning from each Darshan over the course of the centuries he’d spent there, changing his appearance every time he’d reapply ), as well as to pass the time in a way that would not aggravate lingering traces of his father’s influence. It was while he learnt from the Amurta Darshan when he met Danae. With time to spare, and admittedly intrigued by the utter madness of her ideas and her equally frenzied determination to see such impossible fantasies made reality, he signed a contract to assist her in any endeavors she may undertake for them, as she would his own, per its terms. They would maintain it dedicatedly before briefly parting ways when her illicit studies were discovered.

         He himself remained at the Akademiya mere weeks before deciding his life had dulled too much without her odd ideas and eccentric ( not to mention at times exceedingly cruel ) methods, setting off to travel again in search of her. Traveling through his homeland, he would come to meet Ozzy, whom he would follow to Mondstadt, after he’d found him interesting company, especially when the man would encourage him to not feel so wary of the karmic debt’s influence. There, he would become a founding member of his gang when it resulted that the man’s interest had been likewise piqued and thus given him the invitation to stay.

          Ozzy was able to locate and drag Danae into his business thanks to Da’Lun’s scheming and using the terms of their contract to rope her in.

         What could he say? He would be a fool to let one of his favorite toys go. Just as he would the chance to see what would come out of putting so many volatile little components together.

           Surely the end result would be most spectacular indeed.

Oswald “Ozzy” Beauregard / Ásvaldr Bjornsson (appears early 20s): One of the remaining survivors of Khaenri’ah, though he keeps that card very close to his chest, having fled the nation after the surviving the Cataclysm. Only Da’Lun is actually aware of said fact, due to their shared longevity and closer bond compared to many of the others. If asked of his origin, he will always give the half-truth that he is of the Sumeru region. He currently gets a kick out of pretending to work for himself at his little tavern named Fleur de Nuit, from where his gang operates under the guise of a legitimate business.

         Stricken with immortality, Ozzy tends to push the limits of what said immortality will do for him, especially since his perception of pain and danger has been skewed severely by his curse. For the longest time, he had wandered about the desert and Sumeru’s forests, picking fight after fight using the very Abyssal energies he’d been corrupted with. Even with no formal combat training outside teachings he learnt as apprentice mage ( these very learnings being the reason he was was to maintain his appearance as it was, without succumbing to the curse of wilderness ), his increasingly frenzied manner tended to allow him to prove a match for the hilichurls, Eremites, and Treasure Hoarders he encountered, leaving brutalized corpses and wreckages in his wake, and plenty a scar to mar his own body. Some of which healed worse off than others due to his inability and gradual lack of real want to properly care for himself. Eventually, he would be found and formally taken in by the Fatui when he had too grievously injured to fight them off.

Not that he would have wanted to even if he could, considering how much they piqued his interest.

        He had been with them long before Danae had joined, having willingly surrendered himself to be experimented on by Dottore out of boredom and curiosity to see what the man could get out of it. As well as a vain hope to possibly stave off his Erosion and keep his mind with the Abyssal energies eating away at it when his own treatments would prove increasingly inefficient. Needless to say, Ozzy’s sanity had still taken quite the toll throughout the centuries he’s been alive, and the outright torture he faced through the time he’d been with them had truly not helped in the least. Especially not while being injected with god remains had steadily twisted up his mind, more and more. The Abyssal energy he’d already been afflicted with had ironically been what helped keep himself through it though, allowing him to fully assimilate the god’s lingering energy into himself and steady his condition.

         When Danae had decided to desert the Fatui, she broke Ozzy out from containment and left him an experimental Delusion to have him serve as a diversion so she could escape, figuring he would have some exploitable grudge that would prompt him to seek vengeance. And he served his purpose well, slaughtering Fatuus after Fatuus he encountered with the three tail-like, bladed chains he could manifest from it. He did so with great delight and utmost zeal, damn near like an animal in frenzy. But in truth, he really cared not for getting even. He rather merely wanted enrichment, as he called it.

         While Danae had figured the Delusion would simply kill him in the end, his own longevity and the god remains he’d assimilated allowed him to use the Delusion so freely without truly debilitating consequences, though still at certain cost to his body after particularly prolonged usage. It severely aggravates the place with the god remains had been injected, low at his right side where the Abyssal energy was at its highest concentration. Due to it also being the place of his most severe wound and one of the ones that truly never healed properly, it leaves him feeling as though something had been gouged right out every time he’d stop its use. Still, in the moment of that first use, all he could think of was the thrill of the fighting and being able to run about, free at last. To this day, that very thrill is what keeps him using it, even knowing the painful consequences.

         The euphoric high he felt back then lead him to completely destroy the location all together, both in his own kills and in tampering the delicate machinery that would consume the rest of the location along with it in the ensuing explosions. He himself made his getaway before the destruction caught him up along with everything else, after finding and bringing along a fellow victim ( not that he consciously saw himself as such ) of the Fatui experiments.

         After hearing tales of Monstadt, her homeland, the idea of a nation whose Archon had no real say in its ruling appealed to him greatly, Thus, he would hijack and man a Fatui ship to gain leave off Inazuma, heading to the Southern side of Liyue, and making their journey back to Mond that way.

         Ozzy’s aim in making the gang had solely been to collect interesting people to surround himself with, nothing more nothing less. Something to help stave off ennui and keep his mind sharp; a little pet project he could maintain or ruin at his leisure when the time came. It only became a formal organization incidentally, but he finds it a decent pastime to run it and especially the business he and Da’Lun came up with as a front. Especially when he genuinely ended up attached to a certain select few, though he maintains it is only out of how entertaining the lot of them are, themselves and with him.

          Due to past experiences, particularly what he witnessed during the Cataclysm, he has a mild to severely violent visceral reaction to fire based abilities; which is only worsened by his love of deliberately avoiding triggering his own phobia and habit of gambling with extreme stakes, typically involving fire in some way.

         What sort of gambling man would he be if he let something like that stop him, after all?

Elisabeth “Eliza” Merrimack (18) - A Mondsadt-born girl whose family lineage traces back to the Imunlaukr clan, after the clan had broken up due to a schism. Originally Visionless, she would gain a Dendro Vision ( chronologically set late in the events of the Sumeru Archon Quest ) and take up Catalyst-based combat.

         The eldest daughter of her main family at the time, she had a horse riding accident in her youth that left her paraplegic, exhibiting little to no movement in her legs even after treatment at the church. The fact that it had taken them some time to get her there, seeing as she had been lost for days, was probably behind it. Regardless, her family despaired at the incident, frantically trying everything they could to heal her, even as the church insisted nothing could be done. Even as she herself tried to reason it was alright; that she didn't need to be, having accepted their verdict when her family could not. And they never truly did.

         When she was fifteen, the Merrimacks ultimately accepted an offer from the Fatui to aid them ( though in hindsight, Eliza couldn’t but wonder if it had been seen as an excuse to have them take her off their hands ), and carted her off far from home. Betrayed at her family giving her away so easily, especially after she realized they would not check up on her or visit, Eliza at last fell into despair after seeing what awaited her at the hands of the Fatui. Her parents had been lied to, after all–Eliza had not been taken in to receive care, instead becoming subjected to experiments with god remains like every other subject they got their hands on.

          And no one would be aware of that to come save her. Assuming they would even care to try if they did.

         Things began to change years later after meeting Danae, who was assigned to oversee her. To be precise, Danae had at first been in charge of her post-op treatments, ensuring the effects of the experiments didn’t disrupt her vitals and in keeping her alive overall. They began to know more of each other and interact after the then Fatuus had been promoted and would have her as an exclusive subject, due to her ideas and personal project.

          Even with how callous Danae could be, she and Eliza eventually came to get along well due to Eliza coming to understand Danae’s wordless gestures and tough-love care after the former had begun to get attached to Eliza. Said care usually being in the form of snuck treats and material comforts. It wasn’t until later on in their friendship that Eliza learned it had been because she reminded Danae of her younger brother, that she had specifically requested to oversee her treatments because she wanted to help her like she'd intended to help him. Learning why and how she intended to do that did embitter Eliza rather than endear her though.

That said, they truly became each other’s first real friend and confidante after Eliza had been–even if gruffly–encouraged by Danae to start speaking up for herself and the first thing Eliza did was tell her off for thinking she ought to ‘fix’ her and any other person, for that matter. It had been a gut reaction based on Eliza’s own resentment of how her family regarded her as well as the god remains in her acting up due to her agitation.

         Still, even while the burst of temper had startled Eliza, it had been enough for Danae to not only respect the girl, but also to begin to doubt her own goals. Most notably, it was enough to prompt the Fatuus to pick up her old ideas anew rather than continuing the original experiment plan she’d had altogether, choosing to help make amends in fashioning Eliza a special wheelchair to take her out for enrichment. Not that Danae would ever admit that’s what it had been for, even in present day, but Eliza understood and was grateful for it all the same.

            The day Danae broke out, she had actively tried to reach Eliza to bring her along, but was unable to in the chaos she’d wrought and severely underestimated. Thinking her dead, she prioritized her own survival and left without a second thought.

           Eliza hadn’t realized she’d been abandoned once again, rather had been merely confused by the happening and chaos around her. She patiently awaited Danae to come, trusting the Fatuus to soon fill her in and protect her if need be. Instead, it was the newly freed Ozzy who had found Eliza and offered to bring her along after having slaughtered her guards and in hearing her request to see the stars outside before he ‘put her out of her misery’ had moved him.

          And especially because she then tried to cut his throat the instant he got close enough to try and carry her.

          After convincing her he did want to bring her along, not kill her, she at last conceded and let him take her away from the wreckage of the lab. Eliza's tales of her home nation had been the reason Ozzy had chosen to settle there, and she was more than happy to return with him, though flares ups of the god remains in her did pose some problems both were unsure of how to handle. Not that he trusted anyone in Teyvat to be able to take care of her as they should, especially considering how she’d ended up in the Fatui’s hands in the first place.

         Still, she is grateful he took it upon himself to allow her to stay by his side as his ward, even while she couldn’t offer him much in return in terms of fighting skill, money, or knowledge besides that of her home. When he founded his gang, she did find purpose in aiding with the logistics aspect of running the front for his gang, using the learnings of her youth. Without her, it would have fallen apart from the start, Ozzy would always say, leaving her giddy with excitement and her heart full. After finding and enacting a solution to quell the unstable god remains in her ( taken place post-Sumeru archon quest, story-wise ), she would start taking a more active role in the gang as aid to their resident healer. In addition, her wheelchair would be adapted for combat, to suit her needs and her Vision’s abilities.

          She is well aware that elemental concentrations worsen the god remains' extreme and dangerous flare ups, but she still constantly insists upon staying with everyone else in the gang and utilizing a soothing device relying on Elemental energy anyways. She’d rather spend it in comfort and with her friends, even the lot of them encourage her to when she frets what could come out of it ( even Ozzy telling her the risk of that danger is exactly why they are so comfortable was a twisted solace that wound up giving her more confidence to accept her wants to be with them ). Once the traces of god remains in her would be sealed off enough, she is able to head out with them with her wheelchair from that point on, as well as set at ease her fears of hurting them. She still feels chronic flares up of pain due to her affliction, but with less risk of it going out of control and killing her dear friends, she can bear it a lot easier.

          After all she’d been through, this was nothing. Nothing, in the face of being able to smile and delight in her life to the fullest once more.

Durene (19): Hailing from Natlan, Durene is a demigodess, born from the union of a mortal man, Jevaun, and a nature godess Jaladri, whom he had ensnared with a talisman along with several of his friends and fellow warriors when her tempests had threatened their home village. She had fallen for him when he had been watching over her, and had been the kindest of her captors, eventually conceding to be his wife after enough time in his company, as well as certain courtship of his had won her over.

          Even while bound to human form, Jaladri had been content in their union at first, up until her husband began to get exceedingly paranoid and possessive of her following being imbued with several of her blessings that granted him great strength and renown in his tribe. She began to grow miserable, cursing Jevaun and unable to do much to fight him as he was, as her powers had become considerably weaker compared to his over the years, especially after Durene’s birth. And it didn’t help that it was especially so because the man kept her away from the sea, an important source of vitality for her. Still the goddess did not fault her daughter upon her birth, teaching Durene the ways to be a soothsayer and healer so she could properly go through the initiation process and her actual training in the village once she was of the apt age. At the same time, Jevaun had taught Durene the art of war and trained with her every chance he got, hoping his daughter could bring him renown and glory with her exploits in the yearly games.

          Durene took to both her learnings quite well, eager at the thought of being able to contribute to village and her family this way. She particularly excelled in serving as an herbalist and healer, though she did work hard to improve her skills when it came to divination to impress her mother. It always did seem to put Jaladri in a far better mood whenever she did, as well as when she would listen to her mother’s tales of gods and places she’d been, of her life prior to being confined to mortal form. Of their Archon, and her great deeds. More than anything, she loved singing for her mother, songs she learned from her and the others in the village, seeing how her voice seemed to bring the goddess some semblance of solace, when she felt her weakest.

         At twelve years old, Durene had bonded with a Koholasaurus she'd named Aje, who helped her gather materials from the seas and magma caves, often keeping Jaladri company whenever Durene would gather from the land, or while she worked to make her treatments or to preserve her supplies. Around that time, she also learned the full story of her mother’s plight. Horrified and moved, she would elect to repay her mother all she’s taught her in concocting a clever plan to gleam out from her drunken father the location of each piece of the talisman needed to complete the needed ritual and free the goddess. With this knowledge, Durene was able to find and bring them to her mother with Aje's aid. The goddess would aid her in completing the necessary steps once it had all come together. As her bonds would break and her strength returned, Jaladri lamented being unable to take her child with her. Promising to return with a means to ascend her as soon as she could, the goddess would transform into a pillar hundreds of crabs that would scatter into the sea and leave Durene standing alone at the outcropping. Bittersweet and all-too brief as their parting was, she felt content in knowing her mother would be happy at last.

          The good mood would not last long, as Jevaun flew into a deadly rage in realizing what had happened when he awoke to the sounds of a howling sea storm after she returned home.

          His rage did not frighten her, even as he demanded answers. Did the she not care about their village? Of what the goddess would do to them, now that she was free? Of why she’d been confined to mortality in the first place?

Durene truly cared not, insisting Jaladri had borne and suffered enough under his suffocating hold. If they were all to be destroyed in her vengeful wrath, it was for the slight they’d done against her, and thus truly fair.

          Her answers would brand her a traitor in the eyes of her father and, to his claims, their people. To ensure the goddess wouldn’t completely destroy them, he killed Aje and locked Durene away, making made sure Jaladri could never find her and that no one else would in turn ever think to help free her, as no one else would be aware of where she'd 'disappeared' to. As far as anyone knew, she and her Saurian companion had been killed while gathering materials.

          She couldn’t say how much time had passed since he’d left her there. Days, then weeks, then months went by languishing in her prison, in the presence of no one else but her father, whenever he would stop by to bring her food. If her refusal to concede to his pleas to betray her mother and attempts to break out didn’t enrage him enough to leave her to her own devices the next few, that was. It wasn’t until she’d exhausted every desperate, rage and grief-stricken attempt at escaping that Durene formulated a proper plan to escape.

          The next time Jevaun came to see her, he found his daughter seemingly unresponsive. The man freed her from her bonds and frantically attempted to wake her, only to find his daughter conscious after all, taking advantage of his closeness to grab hold of him. The man was only able to catch a brief glimpse of her newly bequeathed Anemo Vision mere moments before she would sap the breath from his lungs. Her face, twisted in every trace of hatred and resentment she felt towards him, was the last thing he’d ever see as he would succumb. Durene would hold no remorse for her actions, even as the village people would come to find her and try to seize her in retaliation.

          Escaping their clutches and leaving them to the mercy of her mother’s wrath, Durene would take to travel about Teyvat as a wandering soothsayer, making a pretty coin on divination and healing. Truly, that whole time she had been seeking a way she may ascend to join her mother, sparing no expense wherever she may go. She'd even forged a binding vow for herself, giving up her tongue, and thus ability to speak in exchange for power. Through her journey, she fostered a particular resentment born in her in Sumeru and the way the Akademiya had gone about managing knowledge at the time ( such as the reason they had rejected entry for her, thinking her to be of the desert folk ). Which lead to her resolving to ensure that place would be the first she may pay a visit to once she reached her goal, to tear it asunder for the offense, seeing as its god would surely not be able to match her when the time came.

          It was in being found by Ozzy in Liyue and being requested to come with him, Eliza, and Da'Lun along the way that she came to have company once more. The final founding member of his gang, she would happily settle in Mond with them. But by no means does this mean she had given up on her goal. With Da'Lun and his influence, as well as the addition of Danae later on, Durene would find use in the team’s members to further seek the information she required for her own ultimate goal. Who knew, perhaps she would just need to be a little more patient, just a little bit longer.

           Well, fine by her. That, she had plenty practice in.

Jaeda Purmizra (18): The daughter of an affluent family in Sumeru and the most recent addition to Ozzy’s gang. She joined them after running away from home and continuously hitching rides on caravans then later merchant ships that guided her to Dorman Port in Mondstadt. From there, she hid among a lucrative-looking delivery, which lead her to Ozzy’s tavern, where she would be promptly caught for having stolen foods from the convoy and attempted to make off with other items to try and sell in the main city. Danae had nearly left her bound and at the complete mercy of Treasure Hoarders as punishment, had Eliza not intervened and personally pleaded her case to Ozzy. He accepted to take Jade in as well, only because he knew it would anger Danae in the process, and because he was intrigued by her Vision in particular,

          Born male and then named Jahar, Jade had been the family’s sole heir and was raised into the role accordingly ( read: impossibly strict ) by her mother. It was thanks to a young servant girl who tended to her every need that she even began to experiment with and realized her actual gender identity. All because the girl had wanted to play dress up and needed a friend to help her, not realizing all the decorum she was breaking in daring to ask the heir, of all people, such a thing.

          It had been quite the relief in realizing it, though, even when she hadn’t been actively searching for it. But to her, it meant everything from then on. And it meant despair, as she continued to masquerade as her mother’s precious only son and heir. She didn’t want to upset her mother, after all, especially since the woman banked so much of her bid for power as head of the family upon her. So she kept that her little secret, playing with the girl and growing up happily alongside her over the years.

         Up until she and the girl had been caught playing.

         The girl had been punished severely for her ‘crime’ and Jade was forced to bear witness to the bloody ordeal for humoring her. Only after the girl was left near death did Jade face her own punishment, the horrid humiliation her mother enforced upon her before an audience of the woman’s closest friends and advisers.

          The anger she felt in seeing the life dwindling in her friend’s eyes and the cruelty she faced ignited a single-minded determination to make every last person in the room pay for her beloved friend's pain, enough to for her to black out, coming to only when her mother had screamed.

Snapping back to consciousness, Jade felt bloodcurdling horror and cathartic relief in realizing she’d burnt her mother’s lovely face beyond recognition, every other cruel person who’d participated in her torment left as naught but charred corpses in her wake. In spotting the gleaming, blood-red gem clutched tightly in her hand.

          She didn’t stay long, stealing her friend away and running away from home with an intent to bring her along. They could make a life together away from them now, she was sure of it. She had a Pyro Vision after all, she was no longer powerless to protect them!

            With the severity of the girl’s wounds though, her friend had little time left. With her last breath, the girl made her promise to live life for the both of them and to be happy. To stay safe, and never let anyone dictate how she may live her life ever again.

          That day, Jahar died along with the servant girl. In his place and bearing the name of that girl to carry on her memory, Jaeda would set off to find that happiness she’d promised.

Mako du Raie (16): A Visionless young heir to a prolific merchant family in Fontaine, and the member who had joined the Snake-Eyes gang before Danae and Tua had. His father, Benshi, had been a doushin from Inazuma and met Mako’s mother, Marie, while she learnt the trade from her father, prior to the Sakoku Decree being fully enacted. Mako is their illegitimate child, though he was claimed to be his mother’s younger brother to save face for the family. As such, he was raised primarily under the strict watch of his grandmother and even stole the title of heir to the family from Marie, due to the story they’d given him.

         He took to his studies like a fish to water, being quite bright and precocious for his age. And in his eagerness to pursue his grandmother’s approval, he went far above and beyond the efforts his mother had ever put into her own. The family agreed he was definitely a far more suitable heir than she as a result, though he avoided his mother’s jealous wrath by asking she be involved in everything he did. Like this, the woman’s temperament was appeased, her going as far as to even take credit behind his talent and boast of him to all who would meet them.

          In all honesty, he would have been content enough handing her the reins of the family, had a business venture to Mondstadt not changed his mind entirely. His mother’s boasting lead to drawing Ozzy’s attention, the man having been seeking a nice, convenient little liaison for his gang’s front. With the boy being as young as he was, not only would he be easy to exploit, but his talent and influence would absolutely prove worth the effort to draw him in, just as he'd hope.

          As such, Da'Lun would be the one to meet and gain his trust. To persuade him to join Ozzy’s gang as their merchant contact. And, to ensure Mako’s position and control over his family’s affairs, Da'Lun would even go as far as to encourage Mako to eliminate each and every family member that could possibly stand in his way of managing it all himself.

           Mako couldn’t help but give in, even with how complacent he’d been before. Even being fully aware of the horrific task he would have to taken on to ensure his control over the family's business and finances. All it took was being given the affection and doting he always wanted, rather than lauded praises for his potential and saccharine-sweet yet ultimately empty words he knew better than to believe. It took one friend, who cared and spoiled him so, to make him turn his previous wishes of simplicity and contentment from before and pursue a more ruthless ambition without a qualm. Even as he gazed into his mother’s dulling eyes, frozen in horror and anguish, he would only feel a strong sense of satisfaction as he stepped over her without a qualm. As he would make his way over to Da'Lun, who would fondly ruffle his hair with genuine praises aplenty before carrying him back to Ozzy’s little haunt.

           He knew full well he was to be used by Ozzy’s group, having realized it early on in Da'Lun’s attempts to worm his way into his heart. But once he’d met with the others in the gang and Ozzy himself, there was no longer a single trace of lingering doubt in his heart that his brutal choice had been in his best interest. Looking at the lot of them gathered to see him, all varying shades of proud of what he’d accomplished, no matter how horrific, he determined the excitement and validation that came with what they did was a lot better than living his life within conventional rules.

            Where else could he feel like he was at the top of the world like this?

Tusitala / Tua (20): Originally hailing from a coastal village in Natlan then migrating to and eventually settling in Liyue due to his father’s relentless pursuit of riches and lack of interest in the wars that ravaged their nation, Tua had been a Treasure Hoarder well before his coming of age. He is rather proud of the fact, too, often boasting of his own successes compared to other factions, especially after he’s fought his way through a group of them in a show of his own Natlanian battle prowess. 

At first it had been at his father’s urging that he joined and stayed with the Treasure Hoarders they’d met up with on their way to Liyue Harbor. It was only to serve as something to make for a side hustle while his father took care of other business dealings at first ( taking care of logistics for that gang while Tua himself got to take on the more dangerous aspects, as he also managed an artifact appraisal business with things Tua and the gang would bring in ), then it became Tua’s sole obsession as his own greed grew, right along his addiction for every victory and bounty he secured them.

         Tua was quite content with this life, thinking himself the luckiest man in the world to have this chance. Even if he did have to surrender near all of his share of their spoils to his father, to quell the man's avarice ( and to ensure the man didn't try and take it all from him, by force or outright theft ). But with what he was allowed to keep or what he managed to squirrel away to pass off as such later, Tua would take to decorating himself handsomely to show off his successes. As such, he’s got several piercings ( many of which he did himself ) along his body, as well as bits of gold embedded in his skin, particularly about his shoulders. He also has a few tattoos to commemorate his victories and his comrades, which glow whenever he uses his Vision.

          Speaking of, his Geo Vision came to him during a show of his conviction to protect his Treasure Hoarder ‘family’ by all means and any costs. In this case, it had been in protecting them from a squadron of Milileth by the skin of his own teeth then later its aid, having chosen to cover them on his own to ensure they could make off with a particularly rich score. Because of it, he became quite popular among them, with the lot thinking he would lead them to the greatest successes and eventually take over rival gangs and become their overall leader.

          The thought strongly appealed to him, enough that he resolved to make it a reality. As leader, he would have a greater right to a bigger share of the spoils, and he could be independent enough to break away from his father, too. And of course, being able to protect his closest comrades and look after them with greater responsibility and authority. That was his greatest desire above all else, one he would swear before them during the celebration of his blessing by the Lord of Geo.

          Though he did eventually fail to keep his promise to them when a conflict with Fatui, and severely underestimating them, left his group all slaughtered or near death, himself included. With his last lingering traces of full consciousness, he lamented not being strong enough to protect them all, and expected to meet his shameful end along with them.

          However his survival had been ensured when Danae had stumbled across the massacre. Though initially focused on eliminating the injured and resting Fatui and with her own hatred of Treasure Hoarders having her near ready to ditch them all as it was, it was due to her having determined his potential usefulness upon noting his Vision that prompted her to nurse him back to health.

          Deliberately leaving all the others to their fates, as she didn’t need them.

          When Tua would ask later after awakening, she would swear they were all goners by the time she had found him. That Tua had supposedly been the only one strong enough to survive because of his Vision.

          Grief would take hold, but he wouldn’t linger on that feeling too much. Not enough for it to consume him, anyways. Not when his savior made him an offer to come with her, a suggestion to carry on in his comrades’ names and honor their memories in continuing to plunder and seek the treasures they'd so craved. Feeling both indebted to her and a thrumming need to protect someone once more now that he was without a family ( he dared not return to his father nor join up with a new Hoarder faction after such a harrowing defeat ), he would choose to follow Danae to Mondstadt.

          Along the way and upon reaching their destination, they would take up mercenary work and end up wrapped up in the group they currently associate with now, after participating in an attempt on the young head of the Snake-Eyes gang alongside others like them. Said hit actually having placed by the young head, Ozzy, himself, using it as a ploy for recruitment to test if Danae had been worth Da'Lun's recommendation to his group. Tua likewise making it out alive alongside her and having demonstrated his immense strength and capabilities had been the icing on the cake. He was more than happy to accept the offer to join after that, no need for incentives or anything.

          Well, okay, maybe the pay grade and further chances to seek riches while with them was a pretty good incentive. That, and being able to take part in a whole new gang he could protect and grow stronger with helped convince him, too. There was something reassuring about being able to protect them them of all people, those who didn’t need to depend wholly on him and could defend themselves should his strength fail them. But would still rely on his skills to add to their own, and truly ensure they would all be okay. And he will make sure they would be. He refused to lose any one of 'his own' ever again, swearing the very same oath he gave his late comrades before.

          He will protect his newfound family, with all he has. Whatever it takes.

Mason Ennosigaeus (17): Sidon’s actual biological child. He was stolen away from his family by Morjena when she had found out of his existence, snatching him during the chaos she'd set off after tricking Eremites into looting the caravan the man's wife had traveled with on her way to the main city. It was a move meant to ensure Danae had no competition to being the man’s heir, especially after the woman and her attendants had been killed in the ensuing struggle. Danae was supposed to kill Mason upon being left with him, as Morjena had thought she’d thoroughly beaten the heart out of her. When it turned out that she hadn’t and even wound up with an attachment to the boy, Mason became an opportunity for Morjena to ensure Danae stuck around, regardless of the abuse she faced, regardless of how much harder she became to control the older she got.

           Mason himself was frequently abused by Morjena while Danae was gone and quickly came to rely on the latter for everything. Not that it necessarily meant he was entirely helpless. His weak constitution left him frail as it was, sure, but in truth, Danae never failed to endlessly dote on him every chance she was home to see him, even going as far as to sacrifice her own meals for his sake. She would even forgo sleep to guard him against Morjena as best she could, and when she did, she would deliberately sleep in a way that if the woman pulled anything, she would be the one to take the brunt of her mother’s abrupt assaults. Every little thing he could ever want or need and THEN some was his at his command, and without hesitation. He need only ask. She couldn't offer him comforts like reassurances and gentleness, but this, this she could do for him. And he was wholly all for it, appreciating the one good thing he had amid the horrid life he was stuck in.

             Inevitably, her boundless devotion and their environment twisted him up as badly as it had her, albeit in a different way. The one who truly wound up heartless and cruel, through and through, just as Morjena was, had been him.

          He may come off as shy and unassuming but in truth, he is twice as vicious and self-serving as Danae, behind the gentle demeanor. He is the one person who can ask of her to do anything at his whim, no matter what it is, no matter how hurt she would end up in the process. And he's used that, time and again to sic her on whoever it was he so chose, be it strangers for his own amusement or even people he's realized she started to get a little too close to, in selfish need to ensure she wouldn't start giving away her loyalties. To test that she truly did mean her loyalties to him, and act accordingly if she hesitated or doubted. In his eyes, he still needed her to survive, after all. Especially after an encounter with hilichurls had nearly taken his life, and had cost him his legs just above his knees, even after being rushed to Birmastan.

          At the same time, he is also the person others could use to strongarm Danae into damn near anything if they hold him captive, as any threats to him lead her to be all to eager to comply for his safety ( though woe betide those who lose him as a bargaining chip at any point during ). He is the One and Only Thing she has left to lose, but the feeling is not mutual. It hasn’t been from the moment she’d left him at the Akademiya on his own.

          Even having been left in the lap of luxury when she'd been forced to flee, being torn from her side and the endless doting, from his greatest asset, left him stewing in a resentful rage. His bitterness and broken heart earned him a Cryo Vision amid the enraged outburst within his room, gleaming enticingly within the wreckage of her final gift to him. That Vision, however, he deemed the greatest gift of all, and one he thoroughly believes was the Tsaritsa’s personal wish to him and show of support.

         As such, as of earning his Vision, he swiftly abandoned the idea of staying at the Akademiya. Instead, he sought to join the Fatui, using his power as incentive to be kept of use to them alongside the Cicin Mages. Though he was sure to mask what he did, telling Danae he got to travel for his studies so she never suspects. So her constant stream of money and gifts from afar never end, having them brought to him by agents he roped into his whims that happened to be stationed in Sumeru.

          In learning she had also once joined the Fatui only to abruptly disappear, he knew before any of the lot that she was still alive, and elected to keep this fact to himself, to ensure none of his comrades could seek out and find her. However his intentions are far from protective out of any genuine concern. He has full intentions to personally hunt her down and make her face the full consequences for abandoning him. And the Fatui, too, of course. But if possible, he would like to be the one to bring her end himself. To look her right in the eyes as he would use his Vision to make of her a pristine statue for himself to keep.

         Maybe then she’ll actually keep her promise to never leave his side.

[shslpunkartist99]

Punk I'm sorry but Babi was on my mind when I read your recent post's tags and the first thing to come to mind is Babi getting accidentally spooked by Tsuri.

I'm actually really intrigued and would like to know if you're willing to elaborate more, it's just unfortunate timing to read that while I was in the middle of thinking up some silly shenanigans that Babi finds themselves unwittingly pulled into. 😂

I'm gonna presume you're intrigued about my post and not about Tsuri accidentally intimidating Babi, so hooo boy prepare for rambleeee

Idk if I mentioned it before, but Tsuri comes from a very rich business family. All his lineage cared about was power and money. Everything was seen as value, as numbers. This included the children

Tsuri had many siblings, but they were all created to be part of the business. They got the highest education and mannerism, as well as were given a personal maid and butler to help further their development, but if they weren't "up to par", they were "thrown away". Tsuri wasn't close to his siblings because of this, only with his servants (who he never saw them as such, but rather as teachers, as well as the closest to friends he'll have)

When he learned that his parents planned to get rid of him when he was 13, his maid and butler actually cared more for his well being than the parents ("Our job was to raise and protect his wellbeing, so we're doing just that"), so they helped him escape. It was rough living afterwards, but he eventually grew up.. with a growing hatred for parents that never intended to be ACTUAL parents

He snapped when he saw a man yelling and roughly dragging his young daughter away. Grabbed a rusty pipe and beat the man to death. Not a word was exchanged between him and the girl, and he ran away after realizing what he did.

Thus beginning his life as Tsuri, the serial killer who hunts down abusive parents

A n y w a y

Even with him getting a name for himself and him becoming more an adult, there was always the one target he swore to kill, but was internally too afraid to go after: his own parents. Of course they'd be on top of the list, what with their common practice being the death of their own children. But as any trauma does, anytime he thought of them, he thought of them always bigger than him, glaring down at him.. he couldn't help but freeze up. However, after growing stronger by being Leroy's bodyguard, he eventually found the strength to finally go after them, so he would be ready the next day..

Only for them to turn out dead

A homocidal attack? A suicide? He didn't know. He just knew, just as he was preparing in the morning, there was news of his family dead. He was stunned, couldn't believe his eyes. His parents died.. how bittersweet. He didn't miss them at all, but he took too long to be ready to handle them himself..

But that was it. There was nothing he could do. He didn't want any clarity nor answers. He didn't feel unfulfilled. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, but at least they were dead. No more of that family. His only family would be his maid and butler (who were still around, just in their own ways of hiding in plain sight), and Leroy, his partner.

.. well, not really "no more of that family".

Leroy was given tickets to a photography showing, courtesy of Poppy (it was a date gift, but alas, her 2 day relationship ended in, well, 2 days), so he convinced Tsuri to come with him. The exhibit was very pretty, with beautiful shots at unique angles that you wouldn't get from generation. Even Tsuri, who wasn't interested at first, was intrigued a bit.

Until he saw one photograph: a photo that looked eerily similar to his bedroom as a child. Title: Loss, by Natalia G.

"Victor..?"

That name.. he hasn't heard that name in over 10 years. Eyes wide, he slowly looked over to the woman that said that name. Long purple hair. Tall and slim figure. Dull purple gray eyes.. just like his.

".. do I know you..?"

".. wow.. they were right. I wouldn't recognize you by name nor appearance, but by your eyes.."

Subtly looking around, she moved closer and whispered, "It's me, Flora.. your sister. I go by Natalia now though. Follow me, we'll talk somewhere private."

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Haven't You Heard?

(Not my gif)

Title: Haven't You Heard? (Rational Thinking Part Two)

Word Count: Impressive (11,000)

Summary: Running away with Kol had given you a taste of freedom and once you'd tasted it, you'd known you would never let it go. You've always been an all-or-nothing sort of person and maybe that was your fatal flaw. But when stupidity pervades, someone's got to save the world, and you're not afraid to do whatever it takes. You're not the hero in this story, you never have been. || Kol x reader ||

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, language, angst

Requested by: @dhaialenzi Here lies my Masterlist

A/N: I originally intended to knock out all of season four in one go but I quickly realized that wasn't going to happen. When forced to pick between good writing and max-content, I will choose good writing every time. No, I will not apologize. I'm not a big fan of reader inserts so my goal was to advance this character's plot while keeping things canon-complacent. Thanks for being here and please bear with me... ROLL TAPE!

I don't want to be fake

Bodies fill up the room

I'm sick of being your altar

Leave me alone

Shut up, shut up, it burns

Spit on me with your words

All this static is poison

Leave me alone

Nobody's ever gonna tie me down

Nobody's ever gonna hurt me now

- Go by Meg Myers

"A cure?" You asked doubtfully. With your fingers busy braiding your hair, you sat sprawled on the couch, stretching your legs.

"That's what Rebekah says," Kol sighed, throwing himself down beside you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your knee before pulling your legs into his lap, watching you braid your hair.

“That’s not an answer.” You sent him a pointed look and he hummed, his lips pressing into a bitter line. You knew that meant something was bothering him about the information his sister had just called with - something he was unsure of and trying to puzzle out before he decided to share it.

A few months ago, you would have thought he was trying to keep something from you - keeping you in the dark so he could manipulate you - but that wasn’t the case anymore. In the time since Kol had freed you from Mystic Falls and your abusive mother, you learned a lot about yourself, about the spectacular things life has to offer, and about the boy who showed it all to you. You learned that Kol wasn’t like the people you had grown used to. He didn’t want to use, manipulate, or control you. There was no ulterior motive with him. Kol just wanted you to be free, and that concept had you baffled for more time than you were eager to admit.

You were so used to people wanting things from you that, for far too long, you couldn’t even comprehend the idea that someone might want something for you. Even Jeremy, kind and loyal as he was, had come to you for help with his homework - that was how you first became friends. But Kol was different. He said you had been given a gift and every day he told you that as long as he was around, it would be your choice what to do with it - no one else's.

You didn’t believe him at first because there had always been someone trying to control you. For the longest time, you kept looking over your shoulder - waiting for her to show up and tear you away from the dream Kol had given you. It didn't take him long to notice. Bit by bit you told him everything - even some secrets that not even Jeremy knew. You told him of your life as a golden child, about smiles in the limelight and bruises hidden from view, and about the 17-year long cycle of isolation, education, and abuse you suffered at your mother's hands. When you finally showed him the scars that crisscrossed your back and legs, you hadn't expected him to call you beautiful or hold you close through the night so he could kiss each one. Kisses were as far as you went. But he didn't push you on it - he never pushed you on anything you didn’t absolutely want. Kol listened closely when you talked and even closer when you didn’t, called you pretty, bought you anything you looked at twice, and answered every question with complete honesty.

Your trust in him didn’t come overnight. It came slowly, but it was the kind of unwavering trust that pairs with unwavering loyalty. The kind that doesn't break.

"So what's bothering you?" You asked, securing your braid with a hairband and sitting up. Kol shook his head, moving you to straddle his lap without even thinking about it.

"For one thousand years, my sister has wanted nothing more than to be human again. If there was truly a way to do so, she wouldn't lie about it," He said. You could hear both the confidence and the hesitation in his statement.

"But…."

He tilted his head with a soft smile, once again amused by your intellect. You motioned for him to continue. He sighed. "Darling, I've been searching for a cure on her behalf for as much of that time as I've been awake and found nothing," He admitted. "Not a rumor, nor whisper of anything so miraculous - not one."

"Yet as soon as the Scooby Gang wishes for a miracle - so it appears," You mused, nodding along.

"Seems a little convenient, doesn't it?" Kol hummed, smoothing his hands over your thighs. (That was another thing you'd learned about him; Kol liked to touch. You weren't used to touches being gentle or loving - for you, any touch usually brought some degree of pain, but Kol changed your mind a little bit more every day.)

"Almost as if someone wants them to get it…" You agreed thoughtfully.

"Exactly," He continued. "And in my experience, things like this don't come without some nasty strings attached."

"How bad are we talking?" You wondered.

"Depends," He shrugged. "But it's most likely either the fineprint from Hell or the end of all time and there is no in between."

You grimaced. "Neither of those sound good."

"I agree, particularly the end of time. I'm not quite done with you yet," Kol smirked, giving your thighs an appreciative squeeze. You rolled your eyes in an effort to hide the fact that you were blushing.

"Focus, ya' sap," You chided, pushing his shoulder.

"Sorry, can't help it."

"Right," You said. Kol just grinned and shook his head, leading you to brush the hair away from his face. He'd grown it out and you were still trying to determine whether you liked it or not.

"Anyway, Rebekah will do anything to get her hands on the cure, and chances are she won't be looking for any consequences she doesn't wish to see. I'd like my sister to be happy, but I think you can see why that might be bad," He explained.

"However," You countered. "If we help Rebekah get it, we know exactly where it's going and we'll be close enough to catch wind of anything screwy. As soon as we do, we shove a heckin' big stick into the spokes of this whole treasure hunt and - bing, bang, boom - end of the world averted!"

"Are you sure you're in on this?" He questioned. "It could be dangerous."

You shrugged. "Someone's gotta make sure those idiots don't burn the world to the ground."

Kol chuckled at your enthusiasm, pressing an affectionate kiss to your brow. "This is why I love you."

You blushed again and ducked your head. "So what does your sister want from you?" You asked, swiftly dodging the L-word. The boy noticed but didn't say anything.

"She wants me to kidnap this professor bloke, while she interrogates the Cult of Elena - as you like to call them," Kol replied.

You frowned. "Don't they have the white oak stake?"

"They did." He smirked. "But she goaded them into using it and snatched it for herself."

"Good for her. Will she be able to hang on to it?"

"My sister is -" Kol clenched his teeth and hissed. "- shortsighted at best."

You raised a brow. "At worst?"

"Blindly ambitious and overconfident."

"That's not enough," You said, shaking your head. "That stake is gonna be changing hands like a hot potato and if it gets used successfully then it might as well be a nuclear bomb. Someone needs to take it out of play… What's your sister like? Describe her to me." He thought about that for a moment and a devious smirk pulled at his lips.

"Rebekah may be trusting, but she knows I'm not, so if you're with me that gives you points for credibility; however, she's certainly not stupid enough to trust either of us completely - not after that little stunt she pulled in 1914." Despite his efforts not to show it, you could tell his sister's betrayal still weighed heavy on his mind. So you leaned into his shoulder in what you hoped was a show of support and he wrapped his arms around you reflexively. He just needed someone to hold on to, you supposed. "She'll be suspicious if one or both of us offer to help without anything in return."

"So you're saying we need a common goal," You hummed. "Well, you can just call for an IOU but what do your sister and I have in common?"

"How about a vendetta?" He offered.

"Who?"

"Elena Gilbert?"

"Oh, that's perfect." You grinned.

He laughed a little and played with the ends of your hair. "So tag team or divide and conquer?"

"We'll seem like less of a threat if we're separated…" You mused.

"Divide and conquer it is."

You knew your whole body lit up but you didn't try to hide it. "Can I kidnap the guy? Please please please?"

Kol grimaced. "Darling, I've experienced your kidnapping skills first hand and, I hate to say it, but if we want information then we're going to need this man alive."

You raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

"I mean this in the best way possible, love, but I pity any man who gets kidnapped by you - I just don't think he'd survive the trip!" You frowned. "Besides, me and the white oak in the same room? Rebekah would be suspicious," He added.

You huffed a little, but he was right. "Fine. You kidnap the absent minded professor and I'll steal a stick. Happy?"

Kol smiled. "Quite." Then he pulled you closer and captured your lips greedily. Guiding you to lie on your back, his hands roamed wherever you would allow, sending shivers down your spine with every gentle caress. Your skin no longer burned him - though it had taken quite a while, you had given up your vervain advantage of your own free will. You really did trust him with everything you had.

"We gotta go," You urged softly, running your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck - you felt him shudder. With a last playful nip at your throat, Kol groaned and pulled away, pouting. You sent him a stern look and the boy moved off you, extending his hand to help you up. Just before you disappeared to grab your bag, his voice caught your attention.

"Darling, there is one more thing…" You looked over your shoulder with a questioning glance. His expression was hesitant. "It's- It's about Jeremy."

"What about him?" You tried to ignore the bolt of fear that raced through your heart. Your best friend hadn't answered any of your calls or messages since the day you ran off with Kol. "Is he alright?"

"He's fine," Kol assured you. You sighed in relief but it didn't last long. "For now, at least."

"What do you mean?"

The boy sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "Elena and her cult are trying to turn Jeremy into a hunter so his tattoo will lead them to the cure. I happen to know a thing or two about hunter's marks. They're a magical brand that grows with every vampire he kills, but as the mark grows, so does its influence over the hunter who has it. If he completes his, Jeremy will become nothing more than a killing machine."

His words flared a rage inside you that you hadn't felt since being left for dead. You wouldn't let the mystic falls gang use and abandon Jeremy just as they had you. "Elena once again wins the World's Best Sister award," You muttered, teeth clenched. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you knew what you had to do. "Cure or no cure, we're taking Jeremy when we leave. We have to get him away from her,” You said, determination rendering your tone steel. Elena was going to get her brother killed, even if she didn't realize it, and you needed to get him to see that. Then you turned and left to shove your latest room into a suitcase.

***

“Elena slept with Damon. She didn't know it at the time, but she's sired to him.”

Stefan’s voice was the first thing you heard upon reaching the doors of the Mystic Falls High School library. You nearly gagged at the drama in this town. A sire bond? Now that's just downright nasty. Rolling your eyes, you threw open the heavy steel doors with a satisfying bang, causing three of the four vampires sitting around the library table to jump in surprise. Their gazes landed on you with mixed reactions. Stefan’s carefully blank expression morphed into one of confusion, he glanced from you to Elena and back again. Caroline appeared surprised, she too seemed to look towards Elena as if for some kind of explanation. As for Elena? The Gilbert girl just looked scared.

“Would you look at that? He’s early!” The perky British accent must have belonged to Kol's sister. Rebekah turned to face the door and her smirk twisted into a confused frown. “You’re not Kol…”

You looked down at yourself sarcastically. “It appears I am not, sorry to disappoint.”

Rebekah grimaced. “Please tell me you’re not one of his playthings.”

This time you actually gagged. “Aw, Hell no. That’s disgusting.”

“Then what are you to him?"

You didn’t know the answer to that, so you didn’t give one.

“I trust him.” Rebekah seemed somewhat miffed by your comment but you didn't give her the chance to say anything. "He'll be here soon, he’s just picking up Professor what’s-his-bucket. I would be with him, but I may have overheard a little something about you having sweet little Elena glued to a chair and that’s an opportunity I just can’t miss.” You flicked your gaze over to Stefan. “I also overheard this repulsive chick-flick. You have my condolences, Stefie; you’re too good for her anyway.”

And you really meant that. Of all the people you had been livid with, the younger Salvatore wasn’t one of them. He was just a guy trying his best and you genuinely believed he hadn’t meant for you to get hurt.

“You - You’re not-” Stefan shook his head, a hint of emotion breaking through his cold exterior. “Y-You’re okay!”

You blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Before you could really process what was happening, Stefan was out of his seat and nearly tackling you in a hug. You stood there like a statue, clueless as to how you should react. The two of you had never been close as far as you were aware. Sure, you knew him pretty well seeing as you had both spent quite a bit of time at the Gilbert home, but you hadn’t thought he liked you very much. You tapped his shoulder rather awkwardly. “Excuse me, but what the heck is this?” You whispered.

Stefan let go and held you at arm's length; he seemed worried and remorseful. “Y/N… I-I thought you were dead.” Oh… Okay, now that explains it… sort of. “Everyone was- We all thought you were dead!” He huffed a laugh and moved to give you another hug.

“Well I’m not,” You said briskly, holding your hand out to stop him. Kol was allowed to touch you, but anyone else? Not so much. “Who told you I was?”

Stefan frowned. “I mean… you went to Denver, ran into an original and never came back,” He said. “It’s not exactly a leap.”

“I see,” You hummed, nodding. “Let me rephrase that: Who told you not to look for me?” Stefan looked lost for a moment. Then he closed his eyes, letting go of a disappointed sigh. That was all you needed to see. Any warmth in your countenance drained away and you laughed but there was no humor in it. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. I wanna guess.” You leaned to the side, looking past Stefan to gaze straight at Elena who shifted uncomfortably in her seat. A wolfish grin spread across your face and you stalked toward her on light feet. When you spoke, your voice was sickeningly sweet. “Elena, sweetheart, have you been going around telling everybody I’m dead?”

“I-I-I just-” She sputtered, shrinking in her seat.

“It’s not very nice to spread gossip, you know.” Your smile was deadly.

“W-we didn’t- We thought-”

“Now wait just a minute!” Rebekah interrupted, cutting off Elena’s pathetic stuttering. You swung around to look at her, raising a brow. “What more am I missing? Exactly who the hell are you?”

“Sorry ‘bout that, Bex. Guess I forgot my manners.” You chuckled, holding your hand out for her to shake. She took it, eyeing you warily. “I’m Y/N Y/LN, Mystic Falls High School Valedictorian Class of Two-Thousand-Ten and keeper of this town’s brain cells. As you can probably tell, I’ve been away awhile.”

Rebekah glanced at Stefan who was still standing where you’d left him. “Did I say you could get up? Back to your seat you go,” She ordered. The boy obeyed with a low grumble and she narrowed her eyes at you. “I find that a bit far-fetched, love. Aren’t you a little young to be a twenty-year-old high school graduate?”

You tapped your temple. “IQ of one eighty - graduated four years early. I was working on my third Master’s degree before I left.”

“Not to sound rude or anything…” Caroline spoke up. “But I’m confused. If you weren’t dead, then where’d you go? What happened in Denver?” You opened your mouth to reply.

“She betrayed us,” Elena blurted out. You closed your mouth and slid your eyes back to where she sat, your expression a mask of calm to hide the rage burning a hole in your chest.

“Oh, so is that what happened?” You inquired in a honeyed tone. "Funny, I don't recall myself being the one to do the betraying." Elena swallowed thickly and turned towards Stefan and Caroline. Their expressions held doubt.

“I-It’s true! She helped Kol - helped Klaus! She helped hurt Damon! Y/N betrayed us!” The brunette claimed, the desperation in her voice shining through.

"I confront my betrayer and I'm the one in the wrong? That hardly seems right, now does it?" You mused lazily.

“She tried to kill me!” Elena cried.

You scoffed. “Come now, darling, that’s quite the stretch - even for you.”

“You nearly choked me to death!”

“I put you in a headlock, drama queen."

“That’s the same thing!”

You narrowed your eyes, smirking dangerously. "Oh, believe me when I say you couldn't be more wrong." You turned to Rebekah. “You compelled her not to leave that chair, right?”

The original made a face. “Yes, I did. Why?”

“Goodie,” You deadpanned. The legs of Elena’s chair shrieked against the floor as you wrenched it around to face you, bending down to her eye level. “I may be a doomed soul Elena Gilbert, but I want you to know that the deepest, darkest circle of Hell is reserved for people like you.” Straightening up, you smiled pleasantly and slammed your foot against her chest with all the force of a ten-ton truck. The force of the blow sent her hurling backward, her back colliding against a bookshelf with a sickening crack. Stefan and Caroline cringed but didn’t move to help, they couldn’t. Elena struggled to get up, gasping for breath. You strode over to her, peering down at her crumpled form with a smirk.

“Y-You-” She coughed, choking on her own blood slightly.

“You turned,” Stefan finished for her, eyes wide. You glanced over your shoulder at him, shrugging.

“Upgrades people, upgrades."

“Who turned you?” Caroline asked, eyeing you cautiously.

“Kol did,” You replied. “Guess he’s got good taste.”

“S-see?” Elena wheezed from the floor. “Sh-she's probably sired to Kol. She’ll say anything to get Jeremy to turn against us!”

You snorted and rammed your knee into her side, stepping on her chest to keep her down. Vampire strength was fun.

“Alright, let’s get a few things straight, shall we?” You started, “First of all, the only one with a pathetic sire bond problem is you. Kol may have turned me, but I am not his slave. For the first time in my life, I’m actually free. Second, if I had been trying to kill you, believe me when I say that I would have succeeded. And third, don’t bring Kol into this, if anything he saved my life. You're the one who left me for dead! I don’t think that makes him or me the bad guy."

Caroline looked at her friend, horrified. "Elena? What's she talking about?"

"She's lying, Caroline," Elena assured.

"I don't know," Rebekah speculated, clearly enjoying this. “Seems like classic Elena to me.”

“Y/N, what happened?” That was something you liked about Caroline, she always sought out the truth for herself.

“Good question, Blondie. Long story short, she and Damon tried to feed me to Kol.”

“Wha- No!” Elena was losing ground and she knew it. “She’s lying.”

Examining your fingernails, you shot her a crooked grin. “Sweetheart, I don’t need to lie.”

The brunette huffed. “Y-you guys believe me, right?” Her friends looked at each other, not seeming very convinced. “Caroline?”

“Elena, I-” Caroline started. “I mean, I know Y/N would never do anything to purposely hurt Jeremy… A-and you always told me how much you wanted her gone, and Damon was scared of her too…”

“Care…”

The young blonde just shook her head.

The brunette then rounded on her former boyfriend. “Stefan,” She whined. Yeah, her voice hadn’t gotten any less annoying. “You know I’m not capable of something like this!”

“I happen to know for a fact, Elena, that you’re very capable of lying to me,” Stefan replied coolly.

“And let’s not even mention Jeremy!” Your point having been proven, you removed your foot from Elena’s chest, allowing her to breathe again. You turned back to Rebekah. “Okay, I’m done! You may pick up where you left off.”

The blond original smirked at you appraisingly. “I think I like you.”

“It’s ‘cause I’m adorable.” You winked. She laughed.

“You’re welcome to sit and wait in here if you like, I’m sure this is about to get even more fun,” She offered.

“Nah.” You waved a hand. “Feelings ain’t my thing. I think I’ll just read a book.” You picked a fallen volume from the floor demonstratively.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged. Then she went back to interrogating the three other vampires.

You didn’t actually read a book, taking the opportunity while Rebekah was distracted to search for the white oak stake instead. You didn’t have to search long. Everything in the world is run on codes, even people function in codes without even realizing it. You find the right code - you solve the problem, or in your case, find the magical original vampire-killing weapon. Naturally, you found the stake the same way one finds anything in a library - the freaking Dewey Decimal System. You plucked the stick off the shelf and silently slipped it into your bag just in time to hear Elena say:

“I didn’t sleep with Damon because of the sire bond. I slept with Damon because I’m in love with him.”

You let go of a low whistle as you strode back over to the table, clapping slowly. “And I thought I was the Ice Queen,” You remarked, smirking. “Great job, Gilbert.”

Elena glared at you venomously, opening her mouth to reply only to be cut off by the sound of the library door opening. Kol poked his head into the room, grinning wide.

“Sister?” He glanced at the assembly going on in the middle of the room. “Look at this, you’re even worse than Klaus,” He teased. Then his eyes fell on you. “Hello, darling. Having fun without me?”

You glanced at the broken bookshelves lining the back wall and back to him, grinning. “Only a little bit.”

“Kol! Finally,” Rebekah greeted. “Did you bring what I asked for?” Kol sent her a look before shoving a raven-haired man into the room ahead of him. Rebekah smirked. “You must be Shane.”

The professor swallowed thickly, glancing around the room. His gaze stopped with you so you sent him your friendliest smile, leaning forward as if to tell him a secret.

“Next part’s my favorite.”

You weren't exactly sure why Kol and Rebekah decided to interrogate the professor in one of the high school's janitorial closets. Personally, you would have picked the band or orchestra classrooms - those were soundproofed so no one would hear him scream - but you followed their lead nonetheless, slipping in behind them. Kol pushed Shane into one of the shelves, sending him stumbling, but he quickly recovered.

"Kol and Rebekah Mikaelson," He identified breathlessly, pointing to each of them in turn. "Two members of the original vampire family - this is such a trip." He focused on you next, brows furrowing. "So who does that make you?"

You let go of a soft chuckle and leaned against a different shelf. "Nobody yet, but I get the feeling you're not gonna like me all that much."

He frowned at that but was quickly distracted by Rebekah stepping closer to him. "Where's the cure?" She asked calmly, staring straight into his eyes. That wasn't very much fun, you thought.

"Compulsion won't work," Shane said, glancing between the siblings. "It's a little trick I picked up in Tibet."

Your ears perked up at that. "Really? How does that work?" You wondered.

"As if I'd tell you," He scoffed. You made a mental note to ask Kol to take you to Tibet, that was a trick you needed to learn.

"Right, well we'll just have to do this the old fashioned way," Rebekah said, slightly annoyed. "Beat him until he tells you where it is." Then she left you to it.

Kol stepped forward, looking over the professor with scrutiny, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "What do you say, darling? Shall we go slow or skip right to a good pummeling?"

You smirked and slipped your bag off your shoulder. "Hold on, I think I've got a knife somewhere in here," You said, rummaging around.

Kol shook his head, chuckling. "Women and their purses," He said, talking to Shane casually. "I think she would try to bring an elephant along if she could."

You raised a brow at him. "More than half this crap is yours," You deadpanned. He shrugged innocently and you went back to digging. Kol had gotten a witch to enchant your bag to fit anything, like a really twisted version of Mary Poppins. "Oh, uh, here's the ouch stick." You tossed him the white oak stake which he caught easily and tucked into his jacket.

Shane shook his head. "You're not gonna get anything out of me," He said.

Kol laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm afraid you're rather mistaken there, mate. The question isn't whether we'll get the information out of you - it's how long you'll live afterwards."

***

Kol drew Shane's head from the water with a jerk. The man gasped and sputtered, desperate for breath.

"The cure?" He asked calmly.

"No," Shane spat. Kol just shrugged and plunged his head into the dirty water once again before turning his gaze to you.

"What's on your mind, darling?" He asked, easily keeping a struggling Shane under.

You waved a hand. "Eh, nothing much," You lied.

Kol frowned. "Now, now, love. Let's not play that game." He yanked Shane up again. "Cure?"

"No!" And back under he went. Kol fixed his eyes on you and waited for you to speak.

"I know why Jeremy hasn't answered any of my calls," You said, biting your lip. That wasn't what had you irked but it was part of it.

"And why is that?" He asked.

"Well, I thought it was because I ran off with you, but it turns out…" You trailed off, shaking your head.

He held up a finger. "One moment." Up with the professor. "Where's the cure?"

"Narnia." Down with the professor.

"Continue," He prompted.

"Turns out, Damon and Elena told everyone that I was dead." You crossed your arms over your chest, unsure why this upset you so much. "That you killed me."

"Well, they're not exactly wrong," He pointed out, flashing you a cheeky grin.

“And that’s the problem," You said. "I told Jeremy I would never become a vampire; he's gonna think you did this to me against my will."

“So, assure him that’s not the case,” He replied. “You’re his friend, Y/N, he’ll listen to you.”

“Not if he thinks I’m under the influence of a sire bond,” You mumbled.

Kol pulled Shane out of the water again, letting him cough for a moment while he stared at you incredulously. “Why on earth would he think that?”

You raised a brow. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe ‘cause he kinda hates you?” Your gaze shifted to Shane. “Ready to be nice yet?” He spat a mouthful of water at your face. “I take it that’s a no.”

Kol shoved him back under. “You make a valid point.”

“If it wasn’t valid, then I wouldn’t have brought it up,” You muttered, dragging a hand through your hair.

“Y/N, look at me.” You glanced up to see Kol watching you with a serious expression. “Your emotions are always valid. Always. Do you understand that?” You bit your lip and nodded once shortly. Because of course, you understood it. You were still working on the believing it part, was all. “Good. Now, what’s got you all worked up?”

“Something Elena said,” You sighed, beginning to pace the floor of the tiny broom closet.

“Well, before you say anything else, make sure you consider who you’re talking about,” He smirked. He removed Shane from the water yet again. “Where’s the cure?”

“Up your ass,” The professor growled. Kol just snickered.

“That’s a new one.”

“Gotta have variety,” You hummed.

“Exactly,” The boy agreed, shoving Shane’s head back in the sink. “You were saying?”

“What if I was sired to you and I didn’t know it?” You asked, continuing to pace.

“Darling, you’re not.”

“But how would I know that?” You countered. “I mean, Elena didn't know and yeah, that could just be because she’s Elena, but what if it’s not?” Both of you could hear the words you didn’t say. You couldn’t stand to be under anyone’s control ever again - even if that person was Kol and meant you no harm. You needed your freedom, not just some illusion of it. “Kol I can’t- I can’t go back to-” You shook your head, unable to say it.

“Bash your head against that wall,” He said, abruptly.

“Excuse me?”

He pulled Shane out of the water and pointed. “That wall, slam your head against it until something breaks,” He instructed, his tone like ice.

“What? Why?” You demanded.

“Because I want you to. Now do it, right now.”

Kol did a lot of things that annoyed you, but ordering you around wasn’t one of them. Just hearing those words from his mouth was enough to make you want to knock all his teeth out. Red hot rage instantly boiled inside you and you didn’t stop to think.

You scoffed. “Uh, no thanks? I think I’m good.”

The original’s warm brown eyes grew dark as he glared at you. “I said do it right now.”

“And I said no!” Who did he think-

A radiant smile broke out across Kol’s face. “And there you have your answer!” He declared.

You blinked and your anger faded into clarity. “Oh.”

“A no from you means no sire bond,” He explained, smirking.

You glared at him. No. No, that wasn’t okay. He doesn’t get to say things like that and just turn it all around. That wasn’t fair. He knew what he was doing. He knew who he sounded like. He knew how that would hurt.

“Yeah, I got that,” You bit back sharply. You had to admit it was an effective test, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still absolutely ticked about it. That sour, commanding demeanor was how your mother had treated you. It wasn’t something you liked hearing, especially from him.

“Y/N.” You turned away from him, openly pouting. “Hey, Y/N/N, come on. Please look at me?”

“What?” You glanced up at him, glaring a little.

“I’m sorry about the attitude, darling. I was just trying to prove a point,” He apologized, softly. “I won’t do it again.”

You raised a brow. “Ever?”

He shook his head, grinning. “Never ever.” He held out his arm, his eyes filled with something soft he saved only for you. “Now get over here, otherwise, I’m likely to buy you something extraordinarily expensive and completely unnecessary.”

You rolled your eyes and tucked yourself under his arm, letting him press a sweet kiss to your hair. “You’re gonna do that anyway,” You muttered.

“Oh, indubitably.” He smirked. You giggled a little and kissed him on the cheek.

“You two are sick,” Shane rasped, interrupting your moment.

Kol’s smirk didn’t falter for a second as he turned back to the professor. “I don’t recall asking you, mate!”

“However, he did ask you about a certain magical item,” You added. “So, where is it?”

“Why don’t you try Las Vegas? You might have better luck,” Shane sneered.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” You smiled and looked up at Kol. “Can it be my turn now?”

He chuckled. “Be my guest.”

You grabbed Shane by the collar and dunked his head into the water again, this time snatching his wrist and twisting it behind his back with ease. He cried out, losing most of his air as he did. His struggling turned more desperate but you waited just a little longer before pulling him back up. “Alrighty, honeybunn. Where’s the cure?”

“Go to hell.”

You smirked. “Working on it.” Under. Hold. Up again. “Where. Is. The. Cure?”

“I am so proud of you right now,” Kol said, resting his hands on your waist.

“Thanks.” Under. Hold.

The door opened behind you.

“How goes the information hunt?” Rebekah asked, stepping into the room.

“Slow,” You responded, pulling Shane back up. “If I have to ask you one more time, I’m gonna get mad.”

“You’re a baby vamp,” Shane choked. “I’m not exactly shaking.” There was a glint in his eye you hadn’t noticed before, too focused on your own problems to see it. Those eyes held something crazed and unhinged. He didn’t need to keep his mouth shut, he just needed to keep his mouth shut long enough. Shane had a plan.

“You’re human,” Rebekah pointed out with a huff. “Why do you want it anyway?” You dropped Shane on his feet, to your surprise he managed to stay on them, gagging and coughing.

“That’s the beauty of this!” He gasped. The choked, rasping laughter that escaped his throat unsettled you and you felt Kol’s arm around you tighten. “You can have the cure! I just want Silas!”

That name was unfamiliar to you, so you glanced up to your supernatural encyclopedia of a companion for an explanation. Kol’s eyes flew wide and you finally learned what fear looked like on him.

“No!” He barked, tearing Shane from your grasp. He held the professor up to the light and that insane gleam showed through all the clearer. “What do you know of Silas?” He demanded, teeth clenched.

“He’s the world's first immortal being,” Shane rasped, meeting the fire in Kol’s eyes unflinchingly. “Who just so happens to be imprisoned with the cure.” He grinned sickeningly. “And I wanna free him.”

“NO!” Kol roared. He plunged the madman’s head into the water, this time keeping him there. He thrashed and struggled and kicked. You glanced between the siblings, feeling mostly lost. Rebekah broke out of her shocked trance and rushed forward.

“Kol, stop!” She screamed, ripping Kol away from Shane who reeled back and collapsed on the ground, hacking the water from his lungs. “He’s of no use dead!”

“Did you not hear what he said?!” Kol yelled. “Silas will kill us all, sister!”

You were many things, but a fool was not one of them. You had been around that boy long enough to know what he looked like when he was angry, and the expression he wore at that moment wasn’t it. Kol was terrified. Very few things in this world shook Kol Mikaelson and if he was terrified then you knew everyone with an ounce of reason should be as well. Because Kol didn’t scare easily, and rarely was he wrong.

“So this is the fineprint from Hell, I take it?” You asked, finding his hand and lacing your fingers together.

“No,” He responded, shaking his head. His expression and voice were grim. “Silas is the end of time.” So that’s what had him so scared.

“Silas does not exist.” Rebekah insisted. “He is a-a fairy tale made up to scare children into eating their vegetables!”

You hadn’t taken Rebekah for a fool, but ambition makes even the cleverest souls blind to the dangers lurking around them. You knew that much too well by now.

“Silas is very real,” Shane whispered, eyes piercing and bloodshot. “I know where he’s buried, and soon I’ll have the spell that wakes him.”

You shook your head, muttering. “It can’t be that easy.”

Kol glanced at you, nodding. “No. No, wait a second, you’re lying. You can’t get to him with-”

“-Without his tombstone?!” Shane finished, laughing and retching. “Dozens to die in a blood sacrifice?!” He hoisted himself upward against the sink, struggling to stay upright. “I know! Believe me, I’ve done it. Those massacres? They're a pain to engineer.”

Rebekah’s eyes widened, even she seemed unsettled. “You’re the one who got the council blown up…”

The council? Blown up? Sure, they were all morons but they had been trying to do the right thing. Even you knew they didn’t deserve that. This wasn’t right. This was wrong. You caught Kol’s eyes and flicked your gaze to a collection of copper pipes leaning against a shelf. He stepped towards them, keeping his eyes on Shane.

“It was a noble sacrifice,” He panted, climbing to his feet. What little compassion you possessed burned in your soul as you sidestepped Rebekah and grabbed the professor by the throat.

“And you call me sick,” You growled. You knew your eyes must have been black as pitch and your fangs were on full display. “How could you do that!? Those people had families!”

“Their loss is temporary.” Shane grinned, not even bothering to struggle. “Because once I raise Silas… Silas will raise the dead.” He sounded convinced, like a desperate zealot going on faith. That look in his eyes was that of a man with nothing left to lose. There are very few things more dangerous. “He will bring back every last soul who died on his behalf!”

“You’re a fool if you think that’s true,” You hissed. “Now!”

Whipping around, you pinned Shane against a shelf. Kol surged forward, pipe in hand, and drove it through the mad professor’s gut. The professor gasped, his hands wrapping around the metal protruding from his stomach. You watched that crazed light fade from his eyes as his knees gave out and he slumped to the floor. That was the first person you’d ever killed, you had thought you’d feel more from it. You didn’t feel much at all. No remorse, no thrill - just a pounding heart and a building sense of dread. This wasn’t over.

“How could you?” Rebekah whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from - what was in her mind - her last and only chance at happiness.

“Easily,” You said, crossing your arms. Maybe that was rude or inconsiderate of you but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care all that much. Staying alive was your priority and it should have been hers too. Better sad than dead. “You should be thanking us.”

“You killed my only chance at finding the cure,” She snapped, holding back tears.

“Silas on the loose would be hell on earth. And frankly, sister -” Kol said, drawing the white oak stake from his jacket. He flipped it over and over in his palm. “ - I don’t think you can handle it.”

The color drained from Rebekah’s face. “How did you get that?” She demanded.

Kol just smirked. “Way too easily.”

Her eyes snapped in your direction, she seemed betrayed. "You little rat!"

"Rules of the game, Bekah." You shrugged and opened the door. "Oh, and uh, somebody's gonna have to clean him up," You added, pointing to Shane's corpse before taking off down the hall with Kol at your side.

When the two of you got to the dark green Jeep he'd brought along, he moved to take the driver's seat but you blocked the door before he could. "I'm driving," You said, firmly.

"My car, darling," He argued.

"Yep, and I'm driving."

Kol's eyes darkened. "Please don't mess with me right now," He said lowly.

"Precisely. You're in emotional distress, thus you shouldn't be driving," You stated. "Neither of us may be able to die, but this car is way too beautiful to total."

He narrowed his eyes. "Fine."

Nodding briskly, you hopped in the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot before anyone saw a thing. The ride was silent for a while, there was plenty to talk about but you didn't know what to say. You had never seen Kol so worked up. He was usually so calm and carefree, but now his hands tugged and tore at his hair as he mumbled to himself in a language you couldn't understand.

"Are you going to be okay, or do you need to breathe into a paper bag?" You asked, keeping any emotion out of your voice.

"Bloody hell, I knew this would happen," He hissed breathlessly. His whole body was shaking.

"Kol?" You grasped his hand and his head shot up. His eyes were wild and bloodshot, and his breathing was out of control. "Hey! Hey, Kol. It's okay, you're fine, I'm fine, everything's fine."

"Nothing is fine! It's the bloody end of days!" He snapped. He tried to pull his hand away but you snatched it back and pressed his palm over your heart.

"This is not the end of days, Kol. This is a bunch of selfish teenagers and a crazy guy being stupid. There's still time for us to fix it, but I need you with me," You said assuringly.

The boy took a breath and nodded firmly.

"Good." You smiled. "Now these are your siblings, what's their next move?"

Kol thought about it for a moment. "Where would Jeremy go to train?" He asked slowly. The look you shot him was a warning and he held his hands up. "Before you say anything, killing Jeremy is already off the table."

You raised a brow. "That's not coming out of the goodness of your heart, is it?"

"Nope." He shook his head. "Hunter's Curses are nasty business. If one of us were to kill Jeremy, we'd be haunted by his ghost for the next century. If anyone is going to drive me out of my mind, it's going to be me. It will not be Jeremy Gilbert."

You laughed a bit. "Their family owns a house by the lake, they've used it as a safe house before."

He nodded. "I know exactly what my brother's planning." The corners of his lips twitched with a smile that wasn't happy. "Can you get us there?"

"What do I look like?"

"Gorgeous," He replied with a smirk. You just rolled your eyes and stepped on the gas.

A blanket of darkness enshrouded the Gilbert Lake House by the time you arrived a few hours later. Having climbed one of the trees that littered the property, you had a decent view of the upstairs loft through the second-floor window. The curtains were open, the occupants on the lookout for the dozens of brand new and bloodthirsty vampires prowling the area. Kol had informed you of Klaus' plan for them - cannon fodder seemed a more fitting description - it was an effective and efficient one, something you probably would have come up with yourself. Yet you would never desire for Jeremy to be the one to carry it out, he had too good a heart; hence why he had opted to retreat to the lake house and patch up Matt's wounds. But those newbies still had to die, and vampire or not, you knew taking those lives would be torture on his conscience. So perhaps it was a good thing you didn’t have one.

"He deserves better than this," You muttered, eyes trained on the boy in the window. Jeremy was now pacing along the length of the loft, weapon in hand and hunter's instincts raging wild.

"You're right," Kol hummed. Sitting on the pine branch beside you, he ran trailed his hands over your exposed arms. The two of you had to wait for first light to enact your counteroffensive and you had requested to come here, to see your friend even if you couldn't speak to him. "I didn't understand at first how the two of you became such good friends, only now do I see the kinship."

"And what do you see?" You asked, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Well, for one thing he's not quite as thick as he looks." Kol grinned at the sidelong glance you shot his way. Then his smile softened. "I can see him being able to keep up with you, and that's no easy feat. You're both strong willed and determined and very fair. He spoke of you in Colorado and I always thought there was something frustratingly similar about the two of you, yet I couldn't seem to put my finger on it until today."

"What happened today?"

"I saw the way the younger Salvatore and Nik's blonde look at you," He answered. "From what Jeremy described, his sister and her friends regard him the same way."

"And how's that?" You wondered, His soft brown eyes met your curious E/C.

"Like a bomb about to go off," He said. You blinked and tilted your head, waiting for him to continue. "I see in him the same fire I see in you, though his is not quite so obvious. The two of you are all or nothing people. In your eyes, if a cause is worth doing something about, then it's worth doing everything about. You know no restraint - you never have. I'm the same way."

"Probably why we get along so well," You smirked.

He nodded. "And it's exactly why so many desire to keep people like us apart. They fear what we are capable of together."

"Like gasoline only needs a spark," You smiled dryly, repeating the words so many psychiatrists had said about you. They all said you were bound to lose your mind. Kol squeezed your hand.

"Listen to me, Y/N," He said tenderly. "You are not a weapon to be wielded. You are not a tool or an object to be used at another's convenience. You deserve to make your own choices, live whatever life you want, and do whatever makes you happy." Kol reached up and cradled your face in his hands, grazing his thumbs over your cheeks. "I want that for you and I want it with you. When this disaster is delt with, we're going to do it all - just you and me against the world." He leaned down and captured your lips with his in a kiss that was warm and hungry and a promise of beautiful things to come.

"We best be off," Kol mumbled, squeezing your waist as he cut himself off with another soft kiss. "Don't want to be spotted..." His hands were perfectly warm and his hair was long enough for you to play with. "Things to do…" Each light brush of his lips was addicting. "Places to go…" Self-control had never been his strong suit but he just couldn't seem to pull himself away from you. "Apocalypses to prevent…"

That last one made you laugh. “Alright, I get it.” You nudged his shoulder. “You go on ahead, I’ll catch up.” Kol nodded and with one last kiss on your cheek, he leaped off your perch and disappeared into the night. You smiled faintly and glanced down at your wrist to where your fingers played absentmindedly with a few mismatched beads on a strand of black yarn that had been wrapped around your wrist for more years than was probably reasonable. Jeremy had given you that bracelet for your eighth birthday and you’d kept it all these years, wearing it whenever your mother wasn’t around to snatch it away from you. Even after all this time, you could still remember what he’d said when he’d tied it around your wrist as you sat beside him beneath the hot sun that beat down over the third-grade playground.

“I know your mom likes to take the stuff I give you, so I want you to hide this one.”

“Why?” You’d asked, watching him struggle to tie the string into a triple knot. “What’s special about it?”

Jeremy just grinned, displaying his six missing teeth, two of which had been knocked out just the day before by Tyler who had pushed him off the swings. “‘Cause ‘Lena helped me make it and she says it’s got magic powers! ‘Lena said as long as you wear it as much as you can, that we’ll be best friends forever and ever and ever.” He’d explained. “Maybe even ‘till we’re in college! A-and once it breaks or falls off or whatever, you getta’ make a wish!”

“My mother says magic’s not real.” You’d frowned, not enjoying that idea too much. As far as you could figure, magic was the last hope you had for getting away from your mother - foolish as it may have been, you’d needed something to believe in.

“Well my momma says it is, and ‘Lena says it is, and I say it is and your mom is stupid,” Jeremy decided. “And she smells like cheese!” You giggled and shoved a handful of the popcorn he’d brought you into your mouth. After that day, you’d never stopped believing in magic.

“What are the rules?” You asked. You had to know these things so you could figure out a way around them.

Jeremy shook his head. “No rules!” He’d said around a mouthful of chips.

“Then how does it work?”

“It’s magic, duh!”

“Oh…” You nodded. “What should I wish for then?” You wondered.

“I dunno; whatever you want, I guess.” He shrugged. “I’d wish to be a dragon! RAWRRR!” He growled, tugging at one of your pigtails. You laughed and swatted his arm away.

“Well, I’d wish to be a big-girl dragon so I could fly away from here and go live in a treehouse somewhere and hoard books and also popcorn… and ice cream… and chocolate. Oh! And my wings would be prettier than yours.” You smirked, already tugging on the bracelet lightly in hopes that it might fall off just then so you could get your wish. “And I’d have sharper claws, and sharper teeth, and harder scales, and better smell, and I’d be able to hear and see stuff super far away. I’d also be, like, super fast and strong and stuff, so if Tyler ever tries to push you off the swings again I’d push him first and make him cry!”

“But that’s all the cool stuff,” Jeremy complained. “What do I get?”

You thought about that for a bit. “You can have the hotter fire.”

“Okay!” He cheered. “I’ll have white fire! A-and whenever somebody tries to chop off yours or mine - er, wait no - our wings away or tries to make us go to bed early, I’ll roast ‘em like a chicken nugget and they’ll never be mean to us again!”

“That sounds awesome!” You grinned. Then Jeremy quieted down a bit, and his face became rather sober.

“I hope you grow up to be a dragon, Y/N/N,” He’d said. “And I hope you get to fly away and be happy somewhere but you gotta’ keep the bracelet or it won’t happen. So, just don’t let your mom take it, okay? Because you deserve to have good things.”

“Thanks, Jerrie-Berry.” You had smiled and thrown your arms around him, squeezing as tight as you could. “If I fly away, I’ll take you with me.”

“We could go to Aust- Aussie- Aussrail… The place with all the Kangaroos!”

“Australia has spiders though…”

“Don’t worry! I’ll bring my dad’s shoe!”

You sighed at the memory, twisting the frayed cord around your wrist.

“Time to fly away, Jer,” You whispered. “Just like I promised.”

You looked up to catch one last glimpse of your friend through the lake house window and maybe what happened next was merely chance but you’d always believed in magic. The second your eyes found their mark, Jeremy turned around and your eyes met for the first time in almost six months. His eyes flew wide and you sent him a tiny smile. In sheer disbelief, he blinked, rubbing his eyes, but by the time he opened them you were long gone.

***

Jeremy Gilbert could have sworn he’d seen a ghost.

Now, usually, he wouldn’t be able to say that such an occurrence was anything out of the ordinary. It just so happened that his life was now so thoroughly messed up that seeing a dead person was probably one of the most normal things that could happen to him at this point. (Though, he would’ve liked it to go on record that he took no pride whatsoever in admitting that to himself.) If he were being honest, the idea wasn’t even disturbing anymore; it was just sad more than anything, just tiring to dwell on for longer than a moment.

Come to think of it, Jeremy found himself feeling rather tired quite a lot of the time - more tired than he should, more tired than he had any right to as a seventeen-year-old boy - especially recently. It wasn’t the sort of tired he used to feel though; when he was a little boy who ran around too much and passed out on the couch. No, this was a different sort of tired. He felt it in his bones mostly, not in his muscles or in his head, but in every part of him - deeper than he’d known his soul went. He felt it in the way that living and just about everything to do with it seemed like a chore - most days he’d rather drown than keep breathing and maybe he would have been worried about that, but lately, he just couldn’t find the energy. He woke up tired and he went to sleep tired and when he woke up again he didn’t feel any better - if anything he just felt more exhausted. He was tired of being tired, he was tired of losing, being lied to, and being used. But maybe that was just his lot in life, every day he found fewer and fewer reasons to keep on fighting.

Some days it was nothing more than his burning hatred of Kol Mikaelson that kept him going. That inhuman maniac had posed as his friend for weeks only to murder the only true friend he’d ever had. Kol had killed Y/N like she was nothing - snapped her neck, according to Damon - just for the fun of it. Jeremy never should have let her take on an original all alone, but he hadn’t actually thought Kol would kill her. His best friend was dead and he hadn’t even gotten to bury her. It wasn’t long after her death that Jeremy started to feel tired.

Losing Y/N hadn’t felt like losing Viki or Anna, it felt more like losing a limb. Y/N had always been there - he’d never even entertained the thought that she might die because she was simply too stubborn to do so. Turns out, that was just wishful thinking. So maybe it was nothing more than wishful thinking that he’d seen outside the lake house window the night before. He knew it was impossible, but he couldn’t shake her countenance from his mind. Y/N hadn’t been a vampire when she’d died, she had just been human and Jeremy knew that when humans die they don’t stick around. Even if they could, Jeremy couldn’t talk to them and he was brutally sure of that considering how many hours he’d spent after her death just trying to catch a glimpse of her.

So how had he seen her? His best friend had been sitting on a tree branch, watching him through the window. How was that possible? It shouldn’t be. Everyone said it was impossible, but he wasn’t even sure if that word had meaning anymore. Impossible or not, he’d seen her.

Perhaps he was just going insane. He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. Honestly, it was about damn time.

Damon's car came to a sudden halt, lurching Jeremy from his thoughts. Glancing to his left, Damon's icy blue eyes seemed to be attempting to burn a hole through his skull.

"What did I tell you about staying focused?" The vampire griped.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Don't start," He sighed, following Damon around to the back where they'd stowed their weapons. "You really think they went back to the bar?"

"Where else are they gonna go? It's all cabins and vacation homes, they can't get in anywhere," Damon mused, passing Jeremy a semi-auto. The boy tucked it into his waistband. "Alright, there ya' go." The crossbow he took from Damon's hand weighed more than it should have.

"Let's just get this over with." He felt tired already.

If Jeremy hadn't known any better, he might have thought that the expression on Damon's face as he watched him load the crossbow was one of pity. The thing was, he did know better so it was just annoying really. "Listen, just take it one at a time, only shoot for the heart, don't hesitate, and don't miss," He said, offering a half-smile and a wooden crossbow bolt.

"Save the teaching moment, Elena's not here," Jeremy sneered, sliding the bolt into place. "You don't have to pretend like you give a damn about me."

"I'm trying to keep you alive, dumbass," Damon said. "Come on." He didn't deny it though, and that wasn't something Jeremy failed to notice.

They hadn't parked the car too far away from that dingy bar where Klaus had decided to take matters into his own hands, just far enough that any vampire without a daylight ring would burn to ashes before they could get to it. Damon's cautious expression turned suspicious the closer they came to the rundown establishment - it wasn't comforting.

"What is it?" Jeremy hissed as they stood just outside.

"It's quiet."

Before he could ask what that meant, Damon nudged the door with his foot and it swung open on creaking hinges. The resounding nothing that came next was almost more unsettling than the rush of hungry vampires he'd been expecting. Damon stepped forward and Jeremy followed, willingly advancing into what could very well be an ambush. Inside the bar, it was dark and nothing moved. It was too quiet, starving newbie vamps wouldn't be able to contain themselves this long. Was it too much for him to hope that they had all burned when the sun came up?

Who was he kidding? Of course it was.

Floorboards groaned under his feet and the stench of death hung in the air like a blanket. (Jeremy didn't know which was worse, the fact that the hunter in him could ignore it, or that he himself was just used to it by now.) It was quiet enough to hear the drop of a pin - or rather, a coin.

Ting!

Plink!

Shhlickt.

The sound of a coin being accepted into an old machine rang in Jeremy's ears, accompanied by a mechanical whirring noise a moment later. Someone was here…

There was a soft click and then…

We come from the land of the ice and snow

From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow

The hammer of the gods

Will drive our ships to new lands

To fight the horde, we sing and we cry

Valhalla, I am coming

The hard rock suddenly blasting from an old jukebox in the corner nearly startled Jeremy out of his skin. He would recognize the song anywhere, Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin had been one of Y/N's favorites.

Nope. Not that. Focus, Jeremy. He shook that thought from his head, though it didn't seem very eager to leave him. Was it just his imagination or was his lost friend appearing everywhere he looked? Was her spirit trying to tell him something?

"Something's not right." Damon was the first to notice the blood, mostly because he was a vampire, but also because he was the first to step in it. The half-dried crimson substance coated the floor in a thick, tacky, layer; a morbid trail that snaked its way to the back of the bar. Bloody handprints stood out against nearly every object now that Jeremy was looking for them. Tables, chairs, walls, windows, doors - it hadn't been like this when they'd run from the place the night before. At his feet, Jeremy caught a glimpse of five scratches carved into the floorboards, a pattern his hunter's instincts recognized as the desperate fingernails of someone being dragged by their feet.

The vampires had been trying to escape. It didn't look as though any had succeeded. What had they been trying to run from?

Jeremy kept his crossbow ready as he rounded a corner, following the grim trail of red into the back of the bar. The eerie blue light of a walk-in freezer flickered through the glass panels of heavy steel doors, illuminating the river of blood that appeared to run underneath them. Damon tossed him a look that said: 'Be ready.' Then he pushed open the freezer doors.

If Jeremy had thought that the bar itself had reeked of death, then he was in no wise prepared for the gut-twisting stench that attacked his senses when those doors parted. The appalling malodor was strong enough to make the world sway beneath his feet, and he struggled to keep himself upright. The freezer was decorated with red, red, red. Everywhere he looked, sprays of blood covered the walls, the floor, and even the ceiling. In the center of the room, stacked like slaughterhouse meat, was a pile of corpses. Human and vampire alike, they were all dead - ripped open and drained dry.

"Looks like we're gonna have to find ourselves some new vampires," Damon grimaced. "What a waste."

"What the hell happened here?" Jeremy demanded, unable to tear his eyes away from the bodies. There had to be at least thirty. No bile crept its way up his throat and he was ashamed of that more than anything.

From somewhere not far behind him, Jeremy heard a laugh and he instantly recognized who - or rather - what it belonged to. There wasn't enough human in that thing for Jeremy to refer to it as anything more than the monster it was, though it had certainly been good at pretending. The laugh was light and innocent, boisterous and happy but if one listened closely, it wasn't very hard to hear the edge. Kol Mikaelson - or Cole Michaels as Jeremy had known him - laughed like a hyena. It was a sound designed to unsettle.

Jeremy whirled around in time to see Kol stagger through the doors, hands raised above his head in guilt, one clutching a nearly empty bottle of bourbon.

"I confess!" The boy cackled gleefully. "I did it!” He swayed back and forth on his feet a little, clearly having indulged in the bar's alcohol supply since slaughtering its attendants. Jeremy wasn't sure if he'd ever seen him entirely sober, even in Denver, he'd almost always been drinking something.

"Kol?" He looked a little different; his hair was longer. But the shock was quick to wear off, leaving him with a burning hatred in his chest. That monster had killed Y/N, Jeremy wanted to tear him apart.

The original vampire grinned. "Jeremy! Good to see you mate. Sorry about the mess… " He hissed through his teeth, shrugging innocently. "It was a little crowded when I arrived, and I prefer more intimate gatherings. And we three need to have a little chat," He finished, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. His gaze slid to Damon who clenched his jaw, eyes blazing with anger and dread. A slow smirk spread across Kol's face at the sight and Damon found himself hoping against hope that the Original didn't have the trump card Elena had warned him about. Kol offered the bottle to Jeremy. "Care for a drink?"

The hunter glared at the bottle venomously. Just like old times; he thought bitterly.

"He's underage and I don't like you," Damon interceded, pushing his way in between the original and Elena's younger brother, hoping to keep the kid from doing anything stupid. "So let's just cut to it."

A disturbed smile pulled at the edges of Kol's lips. "You know, my brother bragged about his plan to complete Jeremy's hunter's mark. It was easy enough to track this lot down - they were all hiding in the shadows… as if they had something to hide." Damon stiffened but Jeremy was too focused on keeping himself from lunging at Kol to notice. "Killing young vampires is easy… or old ones, for that matter."

"Why? What's it to you either way?" The elder Salvatore asked, endeavoring to keep his expression passive. He only mostly succeeded.

Kol's expression soured. "Because, you fools, in your zeal to find the cure, you risk waking someone very dangerous."

"Oh…" Damon smirked. "You must be talking about Silas."

"What do you know of him?" Kol demanded, his mouth pressing into a firm line. Jeremy felt rather lost.

"Nothing! Don't want to. Not our problem."

"Isn't it?"

"Uh, uh."

Kol nodded, biting his lip with a huff of a laugh. "A few hundred years back, I came across a group who worshiped Silas. His followers told me that he would rise again and that when he did, he would trigger the end of all time. You know, being an immortal, you can see why I'm opposed to times ending." He tilted his head with a smile that was anything but friendly. "So, I murdered all of them. And here you are willing to risk raising him in your search for the cure. I can't exactly sit back and let that happen, can I?"

Damon scoffed, "We're not gonna back off the cure just because you were told one too many scary bedtime stories, you idiot."

Kol shoved the elder Salvatore out of the way, fixing his attention on the hunter. "Jeremy, we were mates in Colorado," He entreated. "You're a smart lad. Why don't you call off this imbecilic treasure hunt?"

"I'm not calling anything off, mate." Jeremy ground his teeth, raising his crossbow higher with fire in his eyes. "You killed my friend," He growled. "You're gonna pay for that."

Kol rocked back on his heels, ducking his head to hide the grin that spread across his face. "You must mean Y/N," He said.

"You don't get to say her name," Jeremy hissed, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Kol hummed, nodding. "And what if I told you I didn't?" He proposed. "What if I told you that your friend is perfectly alright - happy even? What if I said your sister lied to you about what happened in Kansas?"

The audacity that monster had was astounding. Jeremy wanted to strangle him with his bare hands. "I wouldn't believe you," He spat.

"Wouldn't you?" Kol smirked.

"Not even for a second."

"Are you sure?" He pressed. "It wouldn't be the first time Elena's lied to you. As far as I can tell, she's made it quite the habit."

Jeremy laughed but it was hysterical more than anything. "What and you haven't?"

Kol shrugged. "Well, comparatively, I've lied a lot less."

"You can quit with the mind games, Moriarty," Damon huffed. "Elena and I watched you kill the kid. You snapped her neck right in front of us."

A new voice joined the conversation, sounding from just outside.

"I want it to go on record that I gave you a chance, Damon. What's that Hemingway quote about death in whispers?"

Jeremy froze when he heard that voice. He hadn't heard it in six months. He hadn't expected to hear it ever again. The familiar cutting tone was more of a comfort than he'd ever thought it would be.

"Y/N/N?" Jeremy breathed, eyes wide. He lowered the crossbow in his hands.

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @railingsofsorrow @dark-night-sky-99 @fandomrulesall-blog (Thanks for being here!)

The door behind Kol swung open and Y/N poked her head into the room, smirking with a smugness only she could pull off. Her eyes scanned the room, landing on him and her smirk turned into a genuine smile. "Yeah, sorry about the dramatic entrance, but that corner back there was really dark… just couldn't help myself."

Your journey continues here...

[choijjongho]

santa, daddy - jyh | m

❄ summary - yunho wants the best gift for christmas--you.

❄ pairing - jeong yunho x reader

❄ tags - sugar daddy (sort of, you’ll see), strangers to lovers, stripper AU, rich boy au, fluff, smut, zero angst, they’ve never been unhappy in their lives tbh, all gas no brakes in the fluff department

❄ word count - 5.9k

❄ warnings - unprotected sex, oral sex: f, fingering, dirty talk, Santa role-play (im sorry...), creampie, use of princess a lot lol, body worship, sweet soft yunho, mentions of alcohol

❄ a/n - hi all! welcome back to my second fic. excited to write for yunho my bias wrecker 🥰 i hope you enjoy this tooth rotting fluff! feel free to interact, im always here to chat! thanks to my besties @uhmingi @hongism for the collab and bein my besties!

12 days of christmas collab mlist!

Rationally, Yunho knew it was foolish to fall in love with a stripper. He knew it was likely a big waste of time and more likely to end in embarrassment and heartache than in anything resembling a relationship. 

Did that stop the man?

No. Of course not. 

Jeong Yunho was not a man deterred by logic. 

What Yunho wanted, he got. And if he didn’t get it immediately, he pursued relentlessly until he did. 

This behavior was the reason behind his success as a businessman, and it would surely be the reason for finding you warming his heart and home every day and his cock every night. 

Yunho was persistent and charming to a fault. He always ensured he got what he craved. 

And he craved you. 

He still remembers the night he met you. San and Mingi had convinced him to go to the local strip club in ‘celebration’ of his top dollar merger, a deal that racked up nearly $20 million in profit. It was a reason for celebration, but it could have easily been over drinks at their favorite bar. Yunho suspected that the men were simply looking for a reason to drag him to a titty bar. San was always on Yunho’s ass about getting some action, for once. 

At first, the idea of getting action from a stripper seemed off putting. He didn’t disrespect the women or the profession, no they genuinely served as essential a purpose in the community as any job, he just didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of exploiting some woman who was paid to grind up on him who perhaps had no real desire to. Yunho preferred scenarios where the women he enticed were drawn to him because of him and his looks and personality, not for fear of not getting paid or punishment from selfish bar owners. Yunho had met enough “entrepreneurs” of the strip club scene who were really just abusive assholes, exploiting the women for their hard earned money and giving them meager percentages in return. 

But, Yunho had relented and allowed himself to be driven towards the neon club. He intended to tip well to any woman he interacted with, set on ensuring their livelihood for at least another night. 

He remembered how bored he had been at the club. The women were beautiful, definitely. San and Mingi hardly blinked the whole night, afraid to miss out on a single millisecond of action.  Yunho had just laughed at them and sipped away at his third rum and coke. 

The music had suddenly switched to something a little slower. The lights turned to only red, a neon glow cast on the stage and pole. The crowd was silent in anticipation. 

That was when Yunho saw you. 

You entered the stage on all fours, crawling along the floor slowly in time to the music.  Yunho felt his heart stop completely.  You were gorgeous, diamond encrusted bra cupping perfectly shaped breasts, black thong sliding up your core and along your ass.  Your hair fell in your face, messy with no finesse. Your makeup was lighter, simple with pink blush and wide doe eyes. You looked fucked out. Yunho wanted more. 

You crawled to the pole, allowing every patron in the bar a long glance at your lithe body, before you lifted up and began your routine. Yunho had gone the entire night without even a hint of arousal, while now he felt himself harden with every inch you moved. Yunho wanted to jump onto that stage and take you right there, right in front of every man and woman in the crowd. He wanted to be the reason for the pleasurable look on your features. 

Yunho had never felt so strongly about someone before. And he needed more. 

He attempted to meet you after your performance, to get your name or any information about you. He was turned away by security at the door backstage and Yunho was back to square one. 

San and Mingi were somewhat helpful. San provided him with your stage name, Princess, and Mingi informed him you were one of the club's top performers. You were a natural actress, able to put on a show night after night, as if you had been born to crawl on all fours on the shiny stage. 

Yunho returned every single night since then. Desperate for another glimpse of you, a chance to ask you your name, your real name. As much as he wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t speak your language anymore, he also wanted to court you and take you on a date. He was desperate. 

That’s where Yunho found himself the week before Christmas, buried in his fifth drink of the night, eyes boring into yours as you slid up and down the pole so deliciously it made his cock hurt. 

Only, this night was different. Yunho had found out that tonight you were auctioning off a private dance. The money would be going to a charity of your choosing, one to help children who didn’t have the means to have a warm and safe Christmas. Yunho loved a selfless woman. And he was determined to win. 

He emptied an eye-opening amount of money from his account, and drove straight to the club from work. This was his chance. 

You ended your dance by licking the pole, long stripe up the length. Yunho nearly came in his pants, then scolded himself. How would he make it through a private dance if this had him creaming like a teenager?

An announcer moved to the stage, a rather ugly and burly man, who began the auction at $100.  It quickly became a madhouse of hands. Yunho felt sick at the attention for you, that wasn’t him and him alone. The price skyrocketed quickly to over $10,000. It began to slow, and a man wearing a tacky cowboy hat was eager to continue raising the price.  The man looked to be nearly 50 years old, haggard and likely stinking of smoke from every pore. 

Yunho raised his hand quickly and blurted, “$75,000.” He smiled at the way your eyebrows raised in surprise. 

Cowboy hat was quick to rally back. “$80,000.”

Pathetic. 

Yunho smiled again. “$100,000.”

Murmurs in the crowd made Yunho feel even more confident.  

“$125,000.”

Yunho sighed. Old man cowboy was surely asking for it tonight, wasn’t he?

Time to pull out the big guns, he supposed. 

“$300,000.”

Gasps were now audible, including one that fell from your own gorgeous, pouty lips. 

Cowboy hat was silent for a moment, then replied. “$500,000.”

Yunho clenched his fist. God, the old man didn’t know when to stop. 

He let a few beats pass. The announcer began, “We’ve got $500,000 going once, going twi-...”

“$2 million.”

You nearly fell to the floor. Yunho smirked. 

Cowboy man signaled his surrender. Yunho had him by the balls now. 

Through his stunned surprise, the announcer continued. “$2 million, going once, going twice, SOLD to the gentleman in the suit!” 

Yunho’s heart soared. Finally. Fucking finally. He was going to have you to himself. 

You smiled at him, winking. He hoped that wasn’t just for show. 

“Meet your prize at the private door in 10 minutes for your private hour-long dance.”

Christ, an hour of you grinding up on him would surely be the death of him. But he found it hard to really give a fuck about it. You were so close to him, the fire of his loins. He would learn all about you, court you, love you, fuck you. You would be his. 

Yunho sat on the plastic leather couch and loosened his tie. He knew he would need the relief. His heart was thumping in his chest and his cock was throbbing, and you hadn’t even stepped foot in the room. 

He steadied himself with a few calming breaths and closed his eyes to get a hold of himself before he jizzed in his Calvin Klein underwear. 

The sound of a door opening and gently closing tore him from his meditation. 

There you were, in all your perfect and delicious glory. You wore a simple red, satin robe. It tied around your waist, accentuating your gorgeous frame. Yunho licked his lips in anticipation. 

“Well, if it isn’t Santa himself,” you purred. Yunho felt shivers run down his spine. 

“In the flesh,” he teased quietly, trying not to undress you with his eyes. “You can just call me Yunho, though, my darling.” 

You arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Can I, now?” 

Yunho nodded and watched silently as you stalked towards him. You were barefoot, and Yunho found that sexier than any pair of heels he’d ever seen. You looked comfortable and relaxed. Loose curls, your signature minimal makeup, and the robe. God, he wanted to devour you whole. 

“So, what made you want to donate $2 million dollars to the Children’s Aid Society?” You asked, settling down on the couch next to him. 

“It’s a great cause, but I won’t be silly and say that’s why I put up so much, as important as helping those in need is.”

“So, you threw down 2 million dollars… for a dance with me?” You were curious. You weren’t self-depreciating, you seemed to know your worth. You just weren’t suspecting anyone to come close to that number tonight. 

“I wouldn’t act so surprised. I intended to spend more, but it seems I got a bargain tonight.”  Yunho’s smile was electric, charming. 

Your laugh was gorgeous, just as all of you. “I’m glad you got yourself a deal then, Yunho.”

Yunho nearly erupted at the sound of his name leaving your lips. You scooted closer to him, fingers dancing along his thigh. 

“Why did you choose that charity?” Yunho asked curiously, while trying to fight that deep moan at the feeling of your hands on his leg. 

“I love children. This time of year is so hard to watch those without means have no holiday. I always give back–I’ve been an avid supporter of the cause.” 

Yunho swallowed hard. “That’s very noble of you.” 

You smiled at him, a true smile. “Thank you, Yunho. I appreciate it.”

“What’s your name?” He asked, fingers resting on top of your hand on his thigh. “Your real name.”

You smirked and squeezed his hand, and told him your name. His heart felt like it could burst in joy. 

“I like that name,” Yunho smiled. “I like you.” 

“I’ve seen you here before,” you admitted. “You’re quite the regular. But you’re quiet and never get rowdy like the others.” 

“Not my style,” he admitted. “I come here to watch you. You’re talented.”

You blushed, unable to hide it from the handsome man. 

“Shall I give you the talent you paid for?” 

Yunho rubbed at your hand. 

“Would it be shameful to say I’d rather you relax and enjoy yourself? You don’t have to dance for me.” 

You gawked at him. 

“You paid $2 million dollars for a dance you don’t even want?”  

Yunho was quick to assuage. “No! It’s not that I don’t want you. Quite the contrary, actually. I just want you to enjoy yourself tonight. You’ve earned it. I want to get to know you.” 

You bit your lip. This had never happened before. Most men were quick to jump at any chance of you in their lap, grinding on their erections. 

“Or I could leave, and you can tell your boss you made me cum in my pants 5 minutes in and I left in embarrassment. You get the rest of the night free.”

You were suspicious now. “What’s in it for you?” 

Yunho shrugged. “Knowing my money went to a worthy cause?” 

This was certainly strange. You didn’t know how to react. The idea of not dancing for an hour straight sounded like bliss, but you were still unsure of his motives. Yunho seemed to notice. 

“I’m sorry I just-,” he sighed. “I want to take you on a date. Paying for the dance was the only way I could think of to get you alone to ask you. Your bodyguards are quite the rule followers.”

“You spent $2 million to get me alone, to ask me on a date? You don’t even wanna see my tits or anything?”  

Yunho smirked. “Oh of course I do, but I’d rather see them at a more natural time, not here in a smoky bar.” 

“I’ll go,” you blurted. “On a date.”  

You couldn’t help yourself. The man was gorgeous and hadn’t even attempted a single move on you at your most vulnerable, nearly naked under the thin robe. He even kept his eyes on yours all night, never lingering on your body. 

“Really?” He was excited, like a puppy. 

You nodded. “Dinner. Drinks. That’s it.” You agreed. “No funny business.”

“Never!” Yunho held his palms up, as if proving his innocence. “Friday?” 

You nodded.  “Friday. Christmas Eve. Pick me up here at 4.” You stood up and leaned over to kiss the man on the cheek. It turned red where your lips were. “And I’m definitely telling my boss you came in your pants.” 

Yunho grinned at you. “Make sure you tell him I cried, too.” 

“Deal.” 

And you turned, and left. 

Yunho had never felt better in his life. 

If Yunho thought you looked beautiful in your stage outfits, curves accentuated, he was completely blindsided by how good you looked in jeans, a coat and a sweater. 

He watched as you walked towards him on Friday, exiting the dark club and walking towards his sleek sports car.

“Wow,” you breathed as you looked at him. He wanted to go all out, to impress you. He wore his tightest jeans, ones that accentuated his hard earned muscles from calf to thigh and his enormous height.

“I should be the one saying that,” he murmured as you approached. He reached for your hand, kissing it gently and innocently. “I’m honored you could join me tonight.”

“Anything for you, Santa,” you smirked. “Shall we?”

Yunho, ever the gentleman, rushed to open the shiny metal door for you to slide in. Once he was sure you were secure, he ran back to the otherside to drive. He was nervous. He wanted nothing more than to impress you.

The car started with a roar, the engine showing off in its own attempt to amaze you.

“You always pick up your dates in your most extravagant cars?” You asked with a teasing smile.

Yunho winked as he peeled out of the driveway, making you squeal and giggle in excitement. 

“Just the amazing ones who donate all their earnings to charity.”

“You… you rented out Lotte World for our first date? I thought I said dinner and drinks!” You asked, eyes widening and chest tight.

Yunho simply shrugged as he stood at the entrance with you, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“I know the CEO. And I didn’t necessarily rent it out for ourselves. Apparently they’re using the park for exclusive celebrity guests too, so we won’t be alone. We can have dinner inside?”

Your eyes widened even further, jaw dropping.

“EXCLUSIVE CELEBRITY GUESTS? Like ACTORS?” 

Yunho couldn’t help but chuckle and wrap you up in a hug.

“Promise you won’t ditch our date if you see Lee Minho,” he teased.

You grumbled into his chest, still dazed at the information presented to you before pulling away and smiling sweetly.

“No promises.”

The park was thoroughly empty. Every so often, you’d see bulky bodyguards and gawk to find out who was being catered to throughout the park. Yunho would gossip with you, using his height to lift you up and see if you could spot a glimpse of someone famous.

Yunho was the perfect date. Not just because he could obviously afford to rent an entire national theme park out for a first date, but because he was everything you wanted in a man. He was kind, funny, sensitive, caring. He wanted you to have a good time for no ulterior motive than your happiness. He listened to your stories of all your friends at work and from school, and laughed as you regaled him with tales of your best friend Yeosang and his love-hate relationship with the girl he was seeing. He fed you bites of his funnel cake and held your hand in his to keep it warm as you wandered through the empty park. He pointed out lights and scenery the park used to build a winter wonderland and the warmth in your heart radiated through your entire body.

Yunho didn’t care that you were a dancer. He didn’t care about your sordid history, didn’t pry or ask. He respected you, your career of choice, and simply wanted to be with you. It was almost too good to be true.

After a few laps of ice skating (where Yunho fell on his ass more than he actually managed to stay up), he saddled up to you with two steaming mugs of cocoa.

“This has been incredible, Yunho,” you smiled as you accepted your own mug from his hands. “I’ve never had a first date be so… easy.”

Yunho smiled into his mug.

“I was thinking the same thing. This has really been so fun.”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up as he lowered his mug and inched his face closer.

“You were worth every single penny,” he murmured. “I’d spend it all again just for five minutes of your attention and time.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, feeling thoroughly charmed by Yunho’s words. He didn’t see you as only a sex object. He liked you for you. While he may have been initially drawn in by your sex appeal, he stayed because of you. 

“You’re starting to sound like a sugar daddy,” you breathed, feeling his lips inch closer and closer to your own.

He smirked, a soft puff of air escaping his lips in a laugh. You could nearly taste him, how the chocolate of his drink would taste on your own lips.

“I think I like being called Santa daddy more.”

Before you could respond, Yunho closed the distance and pressed his warm, chocolatey lips to yours. It felt like magic, like everything you’ve ever dreamed from a first kiss. Soft, light, no intention of turning it into something raunchy or sexual. Simply an exchange, an acknowledgement of the feelings blooming in both of your chests. 

It felt like home. It felt like everything surrounding you clicked into place the second Yunho kissed you, dropping his cocoa to the ground uncaringly as he cupped your face in his hands. Time stopped, and you hated how cliche it all was, and hated how much you loved finally finding your fairy tale.

Yunho pulled away with you still chasing after his lips, making him chuckle.

“Hold on, there’s still more to this date, and I could spend the rest of my life kissing you and I don’t want to be distracted.”

His words buried deep into your heart, making a home for them inside you. He could spend the rest of his life… it was simply a dream come true.

Yunho slipped your hand back into his and pulled you away from the ice rink area.

“Where are we going?” You asked, wanting nothing more than to find a warm bench or space to continue making out with the man of your dreams.

He looked back, a knowing smile on his face. “Just you wait.”

Soon, the gorgeous and looming princess castle came into view. It was completely decked for the season with lights, fake glittering snow, holly and tinsel, gorgeous decorated trees flanking the outside. 

“Oh my god,” you sighed. “It’s so pretty.”

Yunho smiled and appreciated the view with you, then turned back.

“A princess deserves her castle.”

Yunho continued tugging you in, taking you towards the normally off-limits front entrance.

“Yunho, we can’t go in there,” you protested, unwilling to get in trouble on your first date.

He disregarded, and pulled you up to the very front door, before releasing your hand and digging through his tight jean pocket.

Spinning around to face you, Yunho smiled as he held up a golden skeleton key.

“I may have pulled some strings,” he blushed. “The view from the princess suite is unparalleled. I knew it's something that not many people get to see and I wanted you to have the chance for yourself.”

Holy fucking shit.

Yunho really pulled out all the stops for you on this date, wanting nothing more than to ensure you had the best time of your life. Your heart beat three times too fast, in overtime, and you found yourself throwing your body at him to plaster wet kisses all over his face.

“How are you real?” You asked between pecks to his cheeks and lips. “You’re not real, you’re a figment of my imagination and I’ll wake up tomorrow in my cold bed and not with the most handsome, perfect man I’ve ever met in my life.”

Yunho simply laughed, hugging you tight to his body and returning your sweet kisses.

“Stop distracting me, princess,” he spoke as he finally pulled you away. “Your suite awaits.”

The door swung open to an elaborately decorated hallway and gorgeous spiral staircase. Yunho allowed you to walk first, holding onto your hand behind you and smiling as he watched your every ooh and aah on every step up towards the suite. You were more beautiful than anything this castle could attempt to try, more precious and deserving of the finer things in life than anyone he’s ever encountered. Spoiling you, he thinks, will become his ultimate goal to see that gorgeous, megawatt smile on your face. So pure, so easy to love, and so authentic. He was obsessed.

At the top of the staircase, a golden door waited. You peered back at him, unsure of yourself and how to proceed. He simply smiled and tucked the golden key into your hands.

“Go ahead, princess.”

With one gulp of excitement, you stuck the key into the whole and twisted, smiling at the click of the lock and pushed the door open.

“Oh my god,” you nearly whimpered as you stepped inside, Yunho close behind you.

The room was unlike any room you’ve ever seen before. It was like you stepped into a Cinderella story. Creamy silk fabrics, golden walls, gleaming jewels and diamonds, a large four-poster bed covered in the most expensive bedding you’ve ever seen in your life. A huge window was just beyond you, and you stepped towards it mindlessly.

When you opened the luxe curtains, you gasped out loud. Yunho was right, the view was spectacular. All of Seoul glittered beyond your view. You could see the lights of the Namsan tower, blinking and protecting the city. Just below, bustles of famous crowds worked their way through the park. Your heart soared. You’ve never seen anything like it and you were sure you’d never see something so incredible again in your life.

“Do you like it?” He whispered into your ear. When had he gotten so close? You didn’t mind, you relished in the warmth of him behind you.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” you sighed. Yunho pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, hands sliding down to rest on your hips.

“Perfect. A beautiful room for an equally beautiful girl.”

You gulped, overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. Why was he being so kind? Why was he pulling out all the stops?

You turned in his grasp, now facing him and peering into his eyes.

“Why me?” You asked. “Why some stripper from a shitty club? Why not some equally expensive girl from your life?”

It all felt like too much, all at once. You loved it, loved everything about the day, but it scared you. Was Yunho simply woo-ing you to sleep with you, to get something out of you?

He smiled, a beautiful and authentic smile that spoke more than just desire and lust. It spoke of passion, respect, and genuine joy.

“You’re not just some dancer,” he spoke as he cupped a hand to your cheek, thumb rubbing at the soft skin. “You’re the most beautiful, thoughtful, compassionate woman I’ve ever met. I brought you because I wanted to see you smile. I wanted you to see what I can give you. I’m not much, and you’re the whole world. It would be my honor to make you light up like this every day.”

“Yunho…” you whispered, eyes glassy with emotion.

“Let me give you everything you deserve.”

With the press of your lips to his, you surrendered. 

“Merry Christmas, Santa.”

[ one year later ]

“I can’t believe you rented out the castle AGAIN!” You gasped as Yunho tugged you along the familiar steps to the princess suite.

“You think I’m gonna let my princess sleep anywhere but her castle for Christmas Eve?”

“Yunho, please,” you sighed.

It had been a year since your first date, a beautiful and incredible year with Yunho as your boyfriend and partner. A year full of love, excitement, new adventures, and so much passion. He was everything you’d ever dreamed of. Yunho didn’t mind that you still wanted to dance, still wanted to provide for yourself in your own way. Sometimes he would even attend the club again, like old times, and you’d roleplay as strangers longing for each other.

On the anniversary of your first date, Yunho brought you back to where it all happened. He spun you around the ice rink, kissed you under the mistletoe, won you stuffed animals in the carnival games and screamed his lungs out with you on the roller coasters.

Now, at the end of the night, Yunho was tugging you up the steps of the circular staircase, into the gorgeous and gleaming room you remembered so well.

“Oh!” You gasped.

The room hadn’t changed much. Some updated linens and furniture. But now there was a crackling fire in the fireplace, a gorgeous tree trimmed with gleaming golden ornaments and lights with wrapped gifts below, and a catered meal at a fine dining table next to the window with the view. A suitcase that looked eerily like your own sat tucked in a corner next to another.

“Yunho?”

He smiled and pulled you into his arms, lifting you up and spinning you around.

“I rented this for a week. It’s all ours. We can spend Christmas Eve and New Years here–where it started... where we started.”

That was Yunho, always so romantic and thoughtful. He cherished his alone time with you in the midst of his own busy schedule, and always made it a priority to continue to woo you even after you were solidly his.

“Santa has been so good to me this year,” you smirked, recalling the nickname you gave him after he dropped 2 million dollars just for a chance to talk to you.

Yunho pressed soft kisses to your neck and carried you to the soft, plush bed where he dropped you as gently as he could.

“Santa’s got a few more treats in his sack,” he grinned.

You stuck out your tongue in fake disgust. “Ewww, Yun, don’t say sack.”

He laughed, lips pressed against your skin as he layered kisses on every inch he could reach. His hands, his large beautiful hands, rubbed and tugged at your clothing, desperate to make you anxious and pliant for him.

“Yunnieeee,” you sighed, feeling the fiery burn in your care roar to life. “Stop teasing.”

Yunho pulled away in faux thought, tapping his chin lightly. “I don’t know. Have you been a good girl this year? Do I need to check my list to make sure you made the nice list?”

You pouted, missing his lips and hands on your body now heated with desire.

“I’m literally always good,” you sighed. “Can Santa give me his big North Pole now?”

Yunho broke character to laugh, dropping back down to kiss at your lips and giggle with you at your joke.

Easily, his hands tugged off your top and he laved kisses and licks at your skin while he pried apart your bra with finesse. 

“You’re right, princess,” he smiled as he finally pulled your breasts free from captivity. “You’ve been such a good girl for Santa.”

You opened your mouth to reply but lost all capability of speaking as Yunho wrapped his lips around a pert nipple, sucking it and nibbling on it gently. He used his free hands to tug at the button of your jeans, mouth still firmly attached to your breast.

“Fuck,” you whined. “Please, Yunho, more.”

He grunted, displeased with your impatience, and popped his mouth off your breast.

“Good girls don’t tell Santa what to do, right?”

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly agreed.

“Can good girls encourage Santa to go faster before they ruin their panties?”

Yunho’s smile turned devilish, hands working even faster on the jeans. He tugged them down without struggle, using his impressive strength to get you stripped down to just your lace underwear in seconds.

“Santa is easily persuaded, it seems,” you smirked.

Yunho didn’t respond, instead he simply kissed down your stomach until he reached your soaked core, licking a fat stripe up the fabric and effectively wiping the smirk off your face as you groaned in pleasure.

“So mouthy,” he whispered, tugging gently at the panties to pull them to the side. “Santa better bring you a gag next time.”

His tongue dove in deep, licking up into your drenched channel and swirling to your swollen and needy clit. Your body was overwhelmed with pleasure, soft gasps and moans leaving your mouth instead of any bratty remarks. Yunho always had a way of shutting you up with his tongue in your pussy.

“God,” he groaned as he suckled your clit into his mouth. “Tastes so good, baby, you’re always so fucking good for me.”

Your core clenched around nothing, feeling the vibrations of Yunho’s tongue and words on you, making your body shake and throb. 

“Please, fuck me,” you begged. It was almost shameless how easy it was for Yunho to reduce you to a begging, squirming mess. “Need you.”

“Ask properly,” he grinned as he inserted two fingers into your cunt. “You know how, princess. Use your words.”

Arching your back, you whined at the intrusion and the delightful stretch his big fingers provided. 

“P-please! I need you, Yunnie!”

He tsked, scissoring his fingers wide and kitten licking at your clit.

“My name isn’t Yunho,” he reminded you. “Come on, angel, I know you want to come on my cock. Won’t you be a good girl and address me properly?”

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks, but your overwhelming desire to get railed by your boyfriend overtook any lingering anxiousness.

“Santa, please give me your cock,” you nearly cried, tears welling up from the sheer pleasure of Yunho’s fingers. You needed more, desperately, and could feel your body anxious for Yunho’s impressively large length.

“That’s my good girl,” he smiled as he kissed your clit farewell and pulled his fingers out from within you. He shushed your whines at being empty with a gentle kiss to your lips. “Always asking so sweetly to be filled with cock.”

Yunho rubbed the tip of his cock at your leaking and desperate entrance and you pleaded with him to give it to you. 

“I love hearing you beg for me, princess,” he sighs. “Makes me want to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

Yunho again rendered you speechless by plunging deep within you, his thick length spearing you open and filling you so well you didn’t know where he began and you ended.

“Holy fuck,” you whined. Yunho stayed still, allowing you to adjust to his size as he watched you intently, watched your body loosen and open up for him like the delicate flower he thought you to be,

“You feel so fucking good, princess,” he spoke as he kissed you deeply, tongue plunging into your mouth. You could still taste yourself on his lips, making you whimper for more. “You always take such good care of Santa’s cock.”

As if on cue, Yunho slowly pulled his length out, inch by inch, watching the way it came out covered in your slick, before plowing back in and setting a slow, but brutal pace.

Gasps of pleasure and need escaped you, and you bounced with each push forward from your lover. Yunho was always so thorough, so deep. You pressed your hand to your stomach and whined as you could feel the defined imprint of his thick cock deep inside you.

“Mm, fuck, look at you Princess, all fucked out,” he moaned as he picked up the pace. He was enamored with the way your body bounced and jolted with each thrust, the way your perky tits would jiggle and entice him to wrap his lips around them.

You were already dangerously close, thanks to Yunho’s skilled tongue and fingers taking you closer and closer, and now being filled by him and surrounded by him was sending you quickly closer to the edge.

“Yunho, I’m–,” you cried. “Please, so fucking close!”

Yunho grunted in reply, eager to see you fall apart, eager to feel you clench around his length. He hissed in desperation, already so quickly coming to his own end. Something about you, everything about you, had Yunho always so desperate to finish.

“Fuck, good girl, Princess. Come for me, baby. Let me see you come on my cock.”

His words were always such a ripple effect for you. His voice, his hands grasping at your hips, his cock stuffed so deep inside you, the love he wears for you on his sleeve so evident in the way he holds you. It always sends you spiraling and this time is no exception.

Grasping at his biceps, you cried and arched your back, feeling the string in your stomach tighten further and further, coiling hotly inside you as he chased after both of your climaxes. Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. He’s all you could think about, all you wanted to think about. Time stopped with Yunho, buried deep inside you. 

His encouragement continued, coaxing you closer to your end until one final thrust inside sent you reeling over the edge. You’re sure you screamed, but the blood rushing in your ears was all you could hear, and all you could feel was the sweet pulses of your climax clench around his length.

Yunho cried with you, watched with dazed and opened eyes as you slipped off the edge towards your bliss. It felt so fucking good, the way your channel milked him and begged for him to reach his own end. 

“That’s my good fucking girl,” he breathed as he quickened his thrusts, relishing in the tight and wet squeeze of your core. “So fucking good for me. Where do you want me to come, princess?”

It was hard to catch your breath, hard to think about anything other than the way your lover felt inside you, on top of you.

“I-inside, please! Come inside me, Yun!”

Yunho didn’t have the heart to correct you, no longer caring for the silly roleplay he established, but instead pounded into you faster, faster. You egged him on, tightening your core and clenching with each thrust in, making him babble incoherently as he finally tumbled into his own blissful orgasm.

It was like magic, feeling Yunho’s warmth spread inside you and holding him close as he slowed his thrusts and rested on top of you to catch his breath. His length stayed firmly lodged within your walls, making you feel warm and safe.

“Merry Christmas, princess,” he smiled as he finally lifted his tired and sweaty head to kiss you sweetly. 

“Merry Christmas to you, Santa.”

[mariacallous]

Robert Redford was the pretty one, James Dean the tragic one, Steve McQueen the rugged one and Marlon Brando was the wild one. But Paul Newman was the perfect one; beautiful but also masculine, with such a pretty surface that had obvious depths beneath. He was as good playing the tough guy (Hud, Cool Hand Luke, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof) as he was at emotional vulnerability (The Verdict, Road to Perdition), and no one had more instant, can’t-look-away screen charisma (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Sting, The Color of Money).

On top of all that, his 50-year marriage to Joanne Woodward was famously happy and his philanthropy was so extraordinary that when he died, the Economist wrote that he was “the most generous individual, relative to his income, in the 20th-century history of the United States”. As I said, perfect.

So when news emerged that an unpublished memoir, once thought lost, had been discovered by Newman’s family and would be “revealing and surprising”, fans braced themselves for the worst. Were we to be subjected to tales of Paul Newman, abuser of small animals? Paul Newman the devil-worshipper? Must every hero fall?

But Paul Newman: The Extraordinary Life of an Ordinary Man, which was published last week, only burnishes his reputation. Not because he bangs on about his glorious deeds – in fact, he barely mentions them at all – but because this once very private man reveals so much of his fascinating, never disappointing self. He was constantly questioning himself, riddled with guilt about the past, deeply in love with his wife and trying to learn from his mistakes. Human, in other words, but better.

One of my favourite passages, typical in its self-awareness, is when he describes how badly he handled his children from his first marriage, Scott, Susan and Stephanie, when he left their mother, Jackie Witte, for Woodward: “What I did just didn’t have any class. I didn’t take them aside and give them comfort by explanation, certainly not in a way that they would understand. Not because I wouldn’t do it, but because I didn’t really get it.”

Clea Newman Soderlund is the youngest of Newman and Woodward’s three daughters and, like her older sisters Nell and Lissy, she has her father’s bright blue eyes – a gift of an inheritance. “One of the biggest surprises for me when we found the transcripts was how hard he was on himself. That’s difficult for any child to read and it’s not the way I saw him,” Soderlund tells me from her home in Connecticut.

She remembers clearly the long conversations her father had in the mid-1980s with his close friend Stewart Stern, the screenwriter for Rebel Without a Cause, which they intended to turn into a memoir. Newman also asked Stern to interview those who knew him best, including both his wives and many people he worked with, such as Elia Kazan, Sidney Lumet, Tom Cruise and George Roy Hill, so the book would give the whole, true picture of him.

“That process was really like therapy for him, and I got the benefit of it in the years afterwards, because, while nobody’s perfect, he really was wonderful to be around. Just so present, showing up for everything. He knew this work was important, and he used the lessons he learned from it,” Soderlund says. The transcripts of the interviews, however, were misplaced and when Newman died in 2008, followed by Stern in 2015, the project seemed lost for ever – until the pages were found carefully filed in a cabinet in Newman and Woodward’s house. Newman had stipulated in his will that his children had permission to publish a biography of him, so putting out the lost memoir, they felt, was following his wishes. “He wanted to get everything out there,” Soderlund says.

To his children, Newman was “like Superman”. But in his book he contrasts the godlike image people had with who he was inside, “unexplored, uncomfortable and unknown”. He describes his problems with alcohol and the pain he experienced from antisemitism, because his father was Jewish. When his acting career was taking off, it was suggested that he make his name sound less Jewish, as many other actors have done, from Kirk Douglas (Issur Danielovitch) to Tony Curtis (Bernie Schwartz). But Newman refused: “It seemed more of a challenge to me to keep my real name, to insist upon it as a badge,” he writes. “That was typical of Dad, to go for the harder option and then work to overcome it,” Soderlund says.

After serving in the US Navy in the second world war, Newman made his way to the famed Actors Studio in New York, where he was taught alongside James Dean, Ben Gazzara and Julie Harris. “I was IN their world but definitely not a part of it,” he writes. Dean teased him when Newman’s first film, The Silver Chalice, flopped and Dean’s debut, East of Eden, was a triumph. After Dean died, Newman was given Dean’s part in Somebody Up There Likes Me, which became his big break. “I know there are some people who attribute my career breakthroughs to Jimmy’s death. Yes, there were elements of luck,” he writes, although he adds that “half of him” believes he’d have made it anyway. But only half.

Newman married Witte in 1949 but in 1953 he met Woodward. The attraction was instant, and he credits Woodward with giving him onscreen sex appeal. “Joanne gave birth to a sexual creature. I’m simply a creature of her invention,” he writes, and describes how they left “a trail of lust” everywhere they went. Eventually he left Witte and married Woodward in 1958. In one of the most memorable parts of the book, Newman describes coming home to find Woodward standing in a freshly painted room with a double bed. “‘I call it the Fuck Hut,’ she said proudly,” Newman writes with palpable delight.

Did their children know about the Fuck Hut? “Ummm, no,” Soderlund says with a pause and then a smile. “But when I read it, I was like, ‘Go Mom!’” Their passion for one another was never hidden, she says. “To get into their bedroom, they had one ordinary wooden door and then also a really thick door, and both locked on the inside,” she says and laughs. “It was a very sexy relationship. It wasn’t a fairytale, but he was really, really in love with Mom.”

Not long before Newman died, when he was having chemotherapy for lung cancer, Soderlund went out for dinner with her parents. Afterwards, she offered to walk them to their car in the rain. “But my dad waved his hand, like, ‘I got it.’ I watched them walk to the car, him with his arm around Mom’s back and holding the umbrella above her head, then opening the car for her. And yet, he was so sick. It was such a juxtaposition between the horrors of getting old but also the wonders of being old and having a relationship like that,” she says. He was 83 when he died.

Woodward, 92, still lives in their house in Connecticut, but has had Alzheimer’s for several years. “Losing Dad just floored her. The world stopped for her then. I remember going to an event with her in New York soon after my father passed away, and people crowded around her, caring about her, but she became fearful. I was there, my husband was there, but it wasn’t the same, because he wasn’t there,” Soderlund says.

Newman had, by any measure, a good life, but one that also bore a deep scar. In 1978, his son Scott, who had struggled with drugs for years, died from an overdose aged 28. “I want to embrace the responsibility for that. What would it have taken to avert that? I don’t think I could have gone into films and been a movie star. I couldn’t have drunk. I couldn’t have been a risk taker. I think that’s enough for me to say right now,” he writes.

Newman is far from the only movie star to have lost a son to an overdose or suicide. From his era alone, there were also Clint Eastwood, Gregory Peck, Louis Jourdan and Kirk Douglas. “Dad was right that growing up with parents who are artists and are really well known isn’t the easiest of things in the world. There are some great benefits, and also some very not great ones. Also LA in the 60s and 70s was kind of a reckless place. There were all these drugs that were readily available, and the parents were from a generation that had no understanding of them at all,” Soderlund says.

Did Newman ever talk about Scott? “Not very much. I think it was too raw for him until the day he died.”

Newman channelled his grief into founding the Scott Newman Center, dedicated to preventing drug abuse. To list all his philanthropic endeavours – not least the famous spaghetti sauces and salad dressings – would take a whole newspaper. Soderlund is still the ambassador for SeriousFun, Newman’s network of summer camps for seriously ill kids. Because of the efficacy of his endeavours, plus the amount of money he donated, he changed the way many people perceived celebrity philanthropy, although he plays it down in his memoir: “The easiest thing I can do, frankly, is to give away money,” he writes. One of Newman’s only regrets when he realised his cancer was terminal was that he still wanted to do so much to improve the world. “He just wasn’t ready to go,” Soderlund says, crying now.

Newman embarked on philanthropy for the same reason he embarked on this memoir project. To everyone else, he seemed perfect, but Newman felt he knew the truth. “I think what’s really amazing about him is that he kept growing and working to be a better person as life went on,” says Soderlund. “He used to say, ‘We Newmans are late bloomers’, and he kept trying to be the best him. Isn’t that what we’re all striving for?”